The Werewolf Chasers (Book 3): Wolf Hunt 3 Page 5

  A dart swished past George, but also past Ivan. It struck the wall.

  Ivan ran for the doorway, shoving George and Lou out of the way. George's feet hit Tina, while Lou's hit the other corpse. Neither of them fell, but they both wobbled. Ivan made it out into the corridor. George and Lou followed. George was proud of himself for taking the "gotta stop this werewolf before it hurts somebody" route over self-preservation. He could have quite easily shut the door and just hid in this room until somebody else stopped Ivan, but George had very gradually become the kind of guy who would put his own life at risk to try to save others.

  J.P. was loading another tranquilizer dart into his gun. It was good that he had a spare, but he wasn't going to complete the task in time.

  "Hey!" George shouted, to distract Ivan.

  Ivan, not so easily distracted, didn't turn around.

  J.P. kicked him in the chest. George knew the guy worked out a lot, but he'd never witnessed him in action. Though he couldn't actually see J.P.'s foot land, it was clear even seeing the werewolf from behind that it had been one doozy of a kick.

  That didn't mean it stopped Ivan or even slowed him down.

  George and Lou ran toward him. It was a narrow corridor so their arms bumped into each other. George wished he'd thought to pick up something heavy to use as a bashing tool.

  They both leapt at Ivan.

  Their combined weight was enough to bring him down.

  Ivan struck the floor. A very large sharp front tooth slid across the tile.

  J.P. resumed trying to reload the tranquilizer gun.

  George and Lou tried to position themselves so they could pin Ivan down. But the werewolf was violently struggling and was too strong for them, and quickly managed to get back to his feet. He lashed out with his claw, smacking the tranquilizer gun out of J.P.'s hands. It slid across the floor, knocking Ivan's tooth out of the way.

  Ivan slashed again at J.P. but missed. Then missed again. J.P. was pretty damn good at dodging werewolf attacks, but eventually Ivan would get in a good swipe and then J.P. could kiss a few ounces of his chest meat goodbye.

  Fortunately, though Ivan was a big scary werewolf, this fight was still three against one. George was pretty sure they could subdue him as long as they stayed clear of his claws and jaws.

  George's mind often went to inappropriate places during moments of intensity, and it occurred to him that Claws & Jaws would be a cool name for a werewolf rock band. A split-second later, his mind returned to the task at hand.

  George and Lou tried to subdue Ivan, being careful to avoid his claws and/or jaws, while J.P. went for the tranquilizer gun. Ivan struck him in the middle of the back. George hoped that the sound of impact was a "thunk" of paw against flesh and not the snap of J.P.'s spine. Though J.P. fell to the floor, landing hard, he didn't let out a shriek and he immediately scrambled forward on his hands and knees. Ivan crouched down, grabbed him by the ankle, and squeezed. Now J.P. let out a shriek.

  George and Lou rained punches upon Ivan's furry flesh.

  J.P. kicked Ivan in the face. As far as George could tell from his vantage point, no additional teeth came free.

  Ivan tried to pounce upon his prey, but he couldn't quite do it with George and Lou making every effort to hold him down. They were not small guys.

  J.P. yanked his bloody ankle, but it didn't come free of Ivan's claw.

  George grabbed a handful of fur on the back of Ivan's neck, hoping this might lead to a scenario where he could bash Ivan's face into the tile over and over and over until Ivan ceased to cause trouble for them. Ivan violently shook his head back and forth, and George lost his grip.

  J.P. screamed again as Ivan dug his talons deeper into his foot.

  But then he yanked his foot free. Maybe the blood provided the necessary lubricant to facilitate his escape. He scrambled once again toward the gun.

  Everybody else got up.

  Ivan smashed Lou into George, who in turn smashed into the wall. George spun around and was hit by Lou's body again. Lou, unhappy to be used as a battering tool, grabbed Ivan's arm and tried to swing him into the wall. Lou was strong enough to do it yet not strong enough to make it have a serious impact, so Ivan tapped into the wall gently and with no ill effect. Ivan returned the favor, smashing Lou into the wall so hard that it dislodged a framed certificate that was six feet away.

  J.P. picked up the gun.

  The alarm continued to blare. The sound was really starting to get on George's nerves.

  Ivan snarled and went after J.P.

  George and a very shaky Lou resumed their efforts to tackle him. George was starting to feel the exhaustion—he'd really let himself get soft during these past few weeks of leisure.

  A man whose name George didn't remember stepped into the corridor at the other end. He quickly stepped back out of it, apparently deciding that this was not where he wanted to be at this particular moment.

  George and Lou, working together, smashed Ivan into the wall. Ivan smashed George into the opposite wall. J.P. turned around and tried to aim the gun properly, but Lou was in front of the werewolf.

  Somebody else came into the corridor.

  Something else. A werewolf.

  Ally.

  She was quite a bit smaller than Ivan. She wasn't even as big as George or Lou. Still, she could definitely tilt the battle in their favor.

  She let out a howl.

  J.P. glanced over his shoulder. He immediately scooted the hell out of the way and pressed himself against the wall, as Ally charged forward, jaws open, hairy arms extended, eyes yellow and crazy.

  George wasn't sure if he should also get the hell out of the way, or if perhaps he and Lou could hold Ivan in place well enough for Ally to bite his neck wide open. That would be lovely.

  Ivan made the decision for him, shoving George against the wall yet again. This time he hit his shoulder so hard that it went numb. Ivan shoved Lou against the opposite wall, just as Ally leapt into the air, snarling.

  Werewolf struck werewolf.

  Ally may have been smaller, but it was one hell of a leap. Her momentum knocked Ivan backwards and carried both of them back into the room. Ivan smashed into what George assumed was an extremely pricey piece of equipment, knocking it to the floor with an expensive sounding crash.

  Ivan pounced at Ally. More equipment hit the floor. Ally let out a wolfish yelp of pain.

  George and Lou rushed to the doorway.

  "Get out of the way!" J.P. shouted at them. He was back on his feet and hurrying forward with his gun.

  George and Lou obliged. Ivan picked up a monitor and hoisted it over his head, clearly intending to bring it down upon Ally and crush her werewolf head.

  J.P. fired the dart. It struck Ivan in the side.

  He dropped the monitor, but instead of a wacky slapstick moment where it landed on Ivan's own head instead of the head he'd intended for it to crush, it smashed onto the floor.

  Ivan plucked out the dart and tossed it aside.

  Ally dove at him.

  The werewolves smashed through more equipment. Ally raked her claws across Ivan's chest, but it looked like she removed more fur than flesh. Ivan snapped at her face with his jaws but she pulled back in time.

  Ivan and Ally continued to fight. Ivan definitely had the size advantage, and the additional advantages that came from being a homicidal maniac, but Ally was more than holding her own. George couldn't help but wince as Ivan slashed her arm. That was going to be a really nasty wound when she reverted back to her human state.

  George felt like he should go in there and assist, but he wasn't sure what value he and Lou could bring to the battle right now.

  "Do you have any more darts?" he asked J.P.

  "Plenty! Right past where they're fighting!"

  "How long is it gonna take?"

  "I don't know! I haven't tranqued many werewolves!"

  It did look like Ivan was slowing down. He grabbed another piece of equipment, something large and metal
that George couldn't identify, but let it drop. Ally bit him on the shoulder.

  George decided that the "use large pieces of equipment in an offensive manner" strategy was a good one, and a nice way for him to pitch in. He hurried into the room as Ivan knocked Ally away. George was disappointed that a generous chunk of Ivan's shoulder didn't tear off in the process.

  What to use? What to use?

  The closest thing was Ivan's pillow, which did not seem to be the best choice. George grabbed a large metal box with red, yellow, and blue lights, and realized that he couldn't lift it. He tried to pick up another piece of equipment from the floor and found it to be surprisingly heavy as well. This was becoming a joke.

  Ivan clenched his paw into a fist and punched Ally in the jaw. Her head flew back and she crashed into a file drawer. Ivan shook his head back and forth, kind of like a dog drying itself after a bath, but this seemed to be more of an effort to keep himself awake.

  "I'll help," said Lou, reaching for the box with the lights. George grabbed the other side and they hoisted it up.

  Ivan turned toward them. The werewolf was not grinning.

  If Ivan would be considerate enough to keel over, they could drop the metal box on his head and end this. But though Ivan was clearly feeling the impact of the dart, he wasn't quite at the passing out stage yet.

  So they threw the box at him.

  It was an okay throw. Not a great one. It didn't hit him in the face, which would've been awesome, or the stomach, which would've doubled him over, or the groin, which would have signaled the conclusion of this battle. It hit him just below the groin, bashing into his upper legs.

  But the box was damn heavy, and Ivan was weakening, and it definitely hurt.

  Ivan fell onto his back. He did not make any immediate attempt to get back up.

  George and Lou hurried over to pick up the box again. Pick it up, drop it on Ivan's smug face, repeat if necessary, problem solved. George was not one to take pleasure in the sight of somebody's head splattering into chunks of bone, brain, and assorted moist extras, but in this case he thought it would provide a pleasing visual.

  "No!" J.P. shouted.

  George ignored him. Ivan just killed two people and tried to kill four more. It was time for him to go.

  "Leave him alone! We still need him!"

  George told J.P. to suck his dick.

  Ivan sat up, then flopped back down.

  Ally snarled.

  "Did she learn to control her werewolf nature while I was dead?" asked Lou.

  "She's better at it," said George. "But no."

  "So we should..."

  "Yeah."

  George and Lou sprinted for the doorway.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  A Difference of Opinion

  The doorway was not big enough for both of them to pass through at the same time. George hesitated for a moment, allowing Lou to exit the room first. This moment of politeness allowed Ally to pounce upon him.

  "Ally!" he shouted. "Knock it off!" It was worth a shot. She might be able to understand him.

  She did not appear to understand him.

  Lou kicked her, for which he would certainly feel guilty afterward. She yelped. Lou grabbed George's wrist and quickly led him out of the room like a damsel in distress. They slammed the door, eliciting another yelp as it bashed into Ally's face. Then they breathed a sigh of relief. Wolves couldn't work door handles.

  The alarm shut off.

  George looked over at J.P. "This is exactly why you shouldn't have brought that asshole back to life."

  "Open the door," said J.P.

  "Are you kidding me?"

  "What if she's eating him?"

  "Then I'm disappointed that we don't get to watch," said George. "Maybe we can put a glass to the door and listen."

  "I understand your perspective," said J.P. "I really do. But I'm looking at the global view of things. We need Ivan."

  "How can you say that? He killed two of your people!"

  "Right. He did. And the fact that I'm not happy about the idea of Ally killing him shows just how desperately I need him. Open the door."

  "Not a chance. I can't trust you to manage him. Not to be judgmental, but I think it's pretty clear that your safety precautions weren't up to snuff."

  "I'm not going to ask you again," said J.P. He kicked Ivan's tooth, which slid across the tile and came to a stop a couple of feet in front of George.

  "Was that meant to be intimidating, or did you just feel like kicking the tooth?" asked George.

  "I just felt like kicking the tooth."

  "Good. Because as an intimidation tactic it was really lame."

  "It wasn't an intimidation tactic."

  "Just saying."

  J.P. sighed. "You're trying to run out the clock."

  "Am I?"

  "What if Ally doesn't have the upper hand? How will you feel if by the time we do go back in the room, Ivan has torn her apart?"

  "Well, I think it's safe to assume that you packed a pretty strong dose into that tranquilizer dart, so I'm going to say that right now Ivan is sound asleep dreaming of torturing kittens. I'm not real concerned about Ally's safety."

  "It must be nice to live in such blissful ignorance," said J.P. "You get to view the world like a child. No layers of complexity to any situation."

  "I'll even take it a step further," said George. He spoke in a caveman voice: "Bad werewolf. Let die."

  J.P cracked his knuckles.

  "Whoa, hold on there, Steven Seagal. Do you really think you're going to fight your way through both of us?"

  J.P. frowned. "Is Steven Seagal really your go-to reference for this sort of thing?"

  "No. I'm not thinking straight right now. Still a little upset about Ivan. But you're not going to kick both of our asses. Look at your foot."

  "I can walk on it."

  George raised his fists. Lou did the same.

  "C'mon, J.P. This is dumb. Let's just go have a beer and let nature take its course. Lou hasn't had a beer since he died."

  "I'm dead serious about this," said J.P. "If I have to get an ass-kicking by a couple of thugs in my effort to save countless lives, I'll take the ass-kicking."

  "Is that an Abraham Lincoln quote?"

  Diane stepped around the corner, carrying a pair of tranquilizer guns. She looked confused by the standoff. J.P. quickly extended his hand, and she gave him one of the guns, which he pointed at George.

  "Should I point this one at Lou?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  She did so.

  "I'm not threatening to kill you," J.P. told George. "I'm threatening to shoot a dart into you that will knock you out. But it stings to get shot by a dart, and if you move I could accidentally shoot you in the eye. It would be much easier if you two would just step out of the way."

  Though George hated to simply give up, he didn't think he could close the gap between them without getting shot. He wasn't afraid of it hurting a little, but he'd be more productive conscious than unconscious.

  "Fine," said George. "You win. I'll step out of the way." He leaned against the wall. Lou leaned against the opposite wall.

  "Both of you on the same side," said J.P.

  Lou moved over to George's side.

  "Don't try anything," said J.P.

  "If I took you by surprise and knocked the dart gun out of your hand, Diane would shoot me with the one she's got," said George. "It's possible that I could make it work out, but it's a long shot, and though I'm rooting for Ally to munch on Ivan's jugular vain, I'm not invested enough in the outcome to take the risk."

  "You keep trying to waste time."

  "Perhaps."

  J.P. walked past them, his body language making it clear that he'd squeeze the trigger if he got the slightest hint that they were planning to jump him. Lou raised an eyebrow at George to ask if they should jump him, and George shook his head.

  After listening at the door for a moment to make sure there wasn't an angry werewolf right
there waiting to strike, J.P. opened it. Ally was still in her werewolf form, while Ivan, eyes closed and unmoving, had reverted to human. Ally had climbed up onto the bed and was busy shredding the mattress, so it was simple for J.P. to take aim and shoot the dart at her. It struck her in the face. He closed the door.

  "You didn't have to shoot her in the face," said Lou.

  "I wasn't aiming for her face."

  "I thought you were a good shot."

  "I never said that. I even said that I might accidentally hit you in the eye."

  "You said you might hit us in the eye if we moved. She wasn't moving."

  "She'll be fine," said J.P.

  "Still, you didn't have to shoot her in the face."

  There was a loud thump on the other side of the door, followed by a crash.

  "Sounds like she fell off the bed," said George. "Even if you don't care about the human lives that were lost, you have to admit that a hell of a lot of stuff got broken."

  "I care about the goddamn lives," said J.P. "Again, we look at the world through very different lenses. I wish I had the luxury of being so myopic."

  "I know what myopic means," said George.

  "I assumed that you did. That's why I used it in our conversation."

  "I thought maybe you were trying to make me feel dumb."

  "No, George. But I'm surprised you think it was such a big word that it should call attention to itself. We've got time now, so tell me what word you would've used in its place."

  J.P. honestly looked like he was ready to throw a punch. George didn't want the humans to fight amongst themselves, so he said nothing else.

  "I don't think you used the word completely right," said Lou. "You were close, just not one hundred percent there."

  "I'm going to open the door to check on them," said J.P. "Don't try anything."

  He opened the door. Ally, human again, was lying on her back on the floor. The dart was no longer in her face. George had been concerned that when she fell off the bed she might have landed face-first on the floor and driven the dart deep into her skull, so he was relieved to see that this had not happened.

  Diane hurried into the room and crouched down next to Ally. "I think she's fine," she said, a few moments later. "To be safe I'm not going to move her until she wakes up, but she seems to be okay. Werewolves are pretty durable."