George had no response. He was still trying to process the fact that not only might he be moments away from death, but there was a living, breathing goddamn werewolf right in front of him. There were countless ways for a guy like him to die, but like this? What could they even put on his tombstone?
Lou hurried around to the back of the van, breathing heavily in panic. He held up the key to show Ivan.
“Don’t show it to me! Use it!”
Lou didn’t hesitate. He shoved the key into the lock and turned it sideways.
Ivan immediately released his grip on George’s neck and shoved the cage door wide open. It smashed into George and knocked him to the ground. Ivan jumped out of the cage, landing on his feet and transforming as soon as he hit the dirt.
His pants and shirt split apart, exposing a newly muscular and fur-covered body. He grew at least two feet in height, and claws burst through his shoes.
Ivan’s face took longer to change completely--several seconds rather than almost instantly. Along with the sprouting brown fur, his jaws extended, his nose transformed into a snout, and his ears changed into the pointed ears of a wolf.
Ivan stood before them, still humanoid, but a very definite wolfman. Then he put back his head and howled, even though it was broad daylight and there was no moon to howl at.
He jerked back as a bullet punched into his chest. Michele fired again, hitting him in the stomach. Though she was a surprisingly good shot, the overall effect seemed to simply be to piss him off. He took a menacing step forward, and her third shot missed completely. She pulled the trigger several more times, but the gun just clicked.
Lou said “shit.” George just thought it.
The werewolf smiled, revealing plenty of sharp teeth, and let out a low growl. He looked as if he wanted to make some sort of taunting comment, yet said nothing. Maybe he couldn’t talk in this form.
He howled again, then--moving on two legs instead of all fours--ran down the path in the direction they’d come.
George, Lou, and Michele all watched him go, staring in horror and amazement.
“Get in the van!” George shouted, slamming the rear doors of the van shut. “Get in the van now!” He ran around to the driver’s side door, which Lou had left open. Lou and Michele didn’t seem to be moving. “Did you hear me? Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!”
“Where are we going?” Lou asked.
“Get in!”
Lou nodded. He and Michele ran over to the passenger’s side. Michele got in first.
“You don’t have to go,” George told her. “We’re setting you free.”
“I’m not staying out there with that thing on the loose!”
“Fair enough.”
She scooted over as Lou joined her on the seat. It was an even tighter fit than when she and George had shared it, but comfort was not a huge priority right now. George started the engine.
“What are we doing?” Lou asked.
“What the hell do you think we’re doing? We’re getting that werewolf back!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Chase
“Why the hell would we go after him?” Lou asked, sounding more than a little unhinged.
“Because we’ve got a job to do! And if we fail at that, we’re at least going to run that fucker over! He may be able to withstand bullets but he’ll sure crunch under our tires!”
Lou shut his door. “We can’t follow a werewolf in a van! He’ll just run off into the woods!”
“He might.”
“And he’ll kill us!”
George drove forward and began to make a three-point turn. “If he wanted to kill us, he would’ve done it while we were standing there with our jaws hanging open. He could’ve killed all three of us, shredded us on the spot, but he didn’t.” George didn’t actually know this, but it sounded reasonable.
“Good! I’m glad he didn’t! When a werewolf like that doesn’t kill you, you count your blessings; you don’t give it another chance! We shouldn’t be following him, we should be driving to the nearest bar, or finding a church to join or something!”
“I agree with Lou,” Michele said.
George got the van turned around and floored the accelerator. “I said you could get out.”
“Do you have any more bullets?” Michele asked, as they drove off the dirt road and back onto the paved one.
“We’ve got a couple of spare clips. Lou, reload her.”
Lou reached for the gun. Michele hesitated, as if unsure whether she should give up the weapon.
“It’s empty,” Lou said. “You might as well hand it over.”
Michele gave him the gun.
“Don’t give it back to her,” George said.
Lou reached under the seat, then snapped in a new clip. “I know.”
“There he is!” George shouted, pointing through the windshield.
Ivan was a long way ahead, at least five or six blocks. Bastard was fast. It looked like he was still in his wolfman form. George wondered if he could change from wolf to human as quickly as he could change from human to wolf.
How could Ivan do that? Werewolves were supposed to scream in pain and thrash around and slowly transform by the light of the full moon. George couldn’t conceive of a biological process that allowed somebody to change immediately, at will, with such control that he could transform a single appendage. It was completely freaky. It was wrong, damn it!
The van was closing the distance pretty quickly.
There were a few houses along the road, but they hadn’t passed any cars yet in either direction and nobody seemed to be hanging out in their front yard.
“Watch out!” Lou shouted.
George swerved out of the way of the garbage can that lay on its side in the middle of the road. Goddamn garbage collectors.
“He wants us to follow him,” said Lou. “He wouldn’t be running alongside the road otherwise. We should let him go.”
George wondered if his partner was right. Ivan was clearly leading them on a fun little chase for his own amusement. They didn’t have to put themselves at risk like this. They could take the hit to their reputation. They’d still get work.
But he shook his head. “No. We’re not letting that prick outsmart us again.”
“He didn’t outsmart us. You outdumbed him.”
“Fine, I got overconfident and it bit me in the ass.”
“Yes. It did.” Lou nodded. “It certainly did.”
“Well, it’s his turn to get overconfident. Now we know exactly what we’re dealing with. No more is-he-or-isn’t-he questions. He won’t trick us again.”
An overweight couple sat on a porch swing. The man stood up in surprise as Ivan ran past him. Fortunately for the couple, Ivan didn’t veer from his course. The woman stood up as well as the van sped past.
Ivan glanced back over his shoulder, then immediately picked up his pace, at least doubling his speed. George ground his foot against the already-floored accelerator.
Lou cleared his throat. “I just wanna make it very clear--”
“Your objection’s noted. We won’t get ourselves killed over this, I promise.”
“I don’t think you can promise that.”
George knew he was being reckless, but he didn’t care. Well, that wasn’t true--he cared, but not enough to give up the hunt. He couldn’t stand the idea of that smirking creep thinking that he’d made George look like an idiot. The bastard was having himself a big hearty werewolf chuckle as they chased him, thinking how goddamn clever he’d been. He’d regret it. Ivan the Werewolf was going to be delivered to Mr. Dewey, even if it was in bite-sized pieces.
The werewolf rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.
“Slow down!” said Lou. “Don’t topple the van!”
George wanted to ask his partner to please shut up because he did indeed realize that he needed to slow down before making this very sharp right turn, but decided to just remain silent. Let Lou bark out orders. It would keep him distracted.
He made the turn without toppling over the van and sped down the new street. Ivan was a couple of blocks ahead. He turned to the right and again vanished from their view.
“He’s just going in circles!” said Lou.