Rusty Nail
Dirty Martini
Fuzzy Navel
Cherry Bomb
Shaken
Stirred
Shot of Tequila
Banana Hammock
Jack Daniels Stories (collected stories)
Serial Killers Uncut (with Blake Crouch)
Suckers (with Jeff Strand)
Planter’s Punch (with Tom Schreck)
Floaters (with Henry Perez)
Truck Stop (short)
Flee (with Ann Voss Peterson)
Spree (with Ann Voss Peterson)
Three (with Ann Voss Peterson)
Babe on Board (short with Ann Voss Peterson)
With a Twist (short)
Street Music (short)
Other Books
Symbios (short,writing as Joe Kimball)
Timecaster (writing as Joe Kimball)
Timecaster Supersymettry (writing as Joe Kimball)
Wild Night is Calling (short with Ann Voss Peterson)
Shapeshifters Anonymous (short)
The Screaming (short)
Afraid (writing as Jack Kilborn)
Endurance (writing as Jack Kilborn)
Trapped (writing as Jack Kilborn)
Draculas (with Blake Crouch, Jeff Strand, and F. Paul Wilson)
Origin
The List
Disturb
65 Proof (short story omnibus)
Crime Stories (collected stories)
Horror Stories (collected stories)
Dumb Jokes & Vulgar Poems
A Newbie’s Guide to Publishing
Be the Monkey (with Barry Eisler)
WOLF HUNT
By Jeff Strand
Wolf Hunt copyright 2010 by Jeff Strand
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author.
For more information about the author, visit www.JeffStrand.com
CHAPTER ONE
Meet George and Lou
“Okay, it says here that you stole...” George Orton glanced down at his notebook, then flipped through a few pages. “Where did I write that down? Bear with me for a second...yeah, here it is. Sixty-three thousand dollars.” He whistled. “Wow. That’s a lot of skimming off the top.”
The old man’s eyes glistened. “I have a family. I have five grandkids. Please don’t hurt me.”
“Hurt you? For sixty-three thousand you should be begging me not to kill you, right?”
“Please don’t kill me,” said the old man, Douglas, in a whisper. “I’ll double whatever he’s paying you.”
“Hmmmm. Let me check my notes.” George glanced down at his notebook again. “Ah, here we go. ‘If he tries to bribe you, break an extra finger.’ Look at that, you just created more work for me.”
“Please--”
“Not to mention that you probably intended to pay that bribe out of the money you stole, so in a few hours I’d have men at my house wanting to break my thumbs. Don’t get me wrong, I like the idea of getting double pay for this job, but you’re asking me to put future earning potential at risk. That’s an unfair thing to ask of somebody you’ve just met.”
Douglas’ voice cracked. “There has to be a way we can work this out.”
“There’s really nothing to work out. Were we sent here to break your thumbs? Yes. Will your thumbs be broken when we leave? Yes indeed. Does it have to be the worst experience of your life? Not necessarily.”
“I’m sure that--”
“Discussion over. I want you to understand, Doug, that I’m no sadist. I’m here to do a job like any other working man. If it were up to me, there would be no snapping of bones in the next few minutes. But it’s not up to me. So now that we’ve established what is most definitely going to happen, let’s see if we can work together to make it go as smoothly as possible.”
Douglas looked over at George’s partner, Lou Flynn, as if for help. Lou shrugged and leaned back in the recliner, the briefcase of recovered cash resting in his lap. The old man had been skimming for the past few months but hadn’t spent a cent, which made things a lot easier for everybody.
Really, the old man should’ve felt lucky that it was George’s turn to handle the uncomfortable part of the business. Lou was pretty good with knives, but he cringed at the act of breaking bones, which meant that he didn’t always get it done on the first try. Yeah, Lou was doing an excellent job of presenting a casual front, pretending to be sitting there all cold and emotionless, but George knew that he was feeling sick to his stomach.
Apparently realizing that no help was forthcoming, Douglas looked back at George. A tear trickled down his cheek. “Yes, sir.”
“Good to hear. Do you have a cover story?”
“Excuse me?”
“For your family. You’re not going to tell them that a couple of hired thugs came over and broke your thumbs for stealing from a drug lord, are you?”
“I guess not.”
“Are you clumsy?”
“I...I can be.”
“So, theoretically, you could have tripped, put out your hands to break your fall, hit the floor, and snapped your thumbs, correct?”
“I’m not sure.”
George sighed. “Work with me, Doug. This is for your benefit. I’m trying to protect your marriage. You want your grandkids to know that you’re a scumbag sleazeball criminal? You’re way too old to start your life from scratch, so you need to commit to the story, make it believable. Let’s practice.”
“I fell...and, uh, hit the floor...”
“That’s total crap. You need conviction, and you also need a sheepish demeanor. Look me in the eye and start it off with something like ‘You’ll never believe this,’ and then hold up your thumbs. That’ll make it seem like you aren’t trying to hide anything. It’s kind of a ridiculous story, so your performance needs to be spot-on.”
Douglas cleared his throat. “You’ll never believe this...but I was walking through the living room...”
“Hold up your thumbs.”
Douglas held up his thumbs. “I was walking through the living room, and I tripped on a dog bone--”
“Chew toy sounds better.”
“A chew toy. I fell and tried to break my fall, and I hurt my thumbs.”
“Nobody’s going to punish the dog for making you trip, right?”
“No.”
“Good.” The Yorkshire terrier had been shut in the bedroom after George and Lou arrived. “Let’s hear it a few more times.”
The old man recited his story five more times, refining it upon George’s suggestions. “You’d buy that, wouldn’t you?” George asked Lou.
Lou shrugged. “I suppose so.”
“That’ll have to do.” Douglas seemed like a decent enough guy, and he’d clearly learned his lesson, so George didn’t want to see him lose his family over this whole mess. “So, Doug, are you ready?”
“Isn’t there a way out of this?”
“Oh, come on now, we were doing so well. Why would you want to backtrack like that? Give me your hand.”
Douglas hesitated for several seconds. “Which one?”
“Doesn’t matter. We’re doing them both.”
After a few more seconds of hesitation, Douglas held out his left hand. George took it gently in his own, then wrapped his right fist around Douglas’ thumb.
“Just close your eyes and breathe deeply. Think about something else. Do you like skiing?”
“No, sir.”
“Fishing?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Imagine that you’re fishing. Picture yourself on the bank of a calm lake, sitting in your favorite lawn chair, watching a bobber float. You’ve got a cold beer in your hand. It tastes good, doesn’t it? Ahhhh, nothing better than a nice cold frosty beer. Do you taste it?”
Douglas’ shoulders trembled and he was on the verge of sobbing.
“Nod if you taste it.”
Douglas nodded. In one sudden motion, George jerked his thumb backwards until there was a loud snap.