Werewolf single dad 2, p.19
Werewolf Single Dad 2, page 19
I so badly wanted to shift and show this guy who the fuck he was messing with, but there was no way my van would take my size if I shifted fully. So, I shifted only my jaws so I could snarl and bare my teeth at this monster Hummer driver, maybe as a warning, or maybe as an act of intimidation, I hadn’t decided yet.
“You’re fucking in for it now, buddy,” I spat. “I’m the Alpha in this area and all the areas surrounding it, and I can smell you’re a Beta. You do anything to me, and AWOO is going to send you to The Pound for pack mutiny. Who the fuck are you?”
The Beta just stared coldly at me without saying a single word, and that really pissed me off.
“I said who the fu--”
There was a metallic clicking sound as I sensed a sudden spike of adrenaline in the air, and my survival instincts told me to duck down and get the fuck out of this guy’s eyeline.
And wasn’t I glad I did, because there was a sudden blast from a gun. Then a bullet busted a hole through my passenger side window, and the impact ripped a million cracks through the glass.
There was a new smell in the air that made my blood run cold.
Among the gas, the gunpowder, and the Beta stench, there was a hot metallic sort of smell all shifters grew up learning to be very afraid of.
This motherfucker had just fired a silver bullet at me.
Chapter 10
Among all the works of fantasy shoehorned into werewolf lore, like shifting under the full moon and whatever other crap, silver bullets were the one thing that could actually hurt us.
Silver was unavoidable in the man-made world, and as a shifter, you could get away with coming into contact with it in small amounts like touching it, but you didn’t want a lump of it boring through your flesh.
Up until very recently, Trent used to serve his food on silver-plated platters at his restaurant to add a little theatricality to his were-diners’ meals, but on a recent shifter health inspection, he learned silver plating can be dangerous for shifters because it can chip away in time, leading to all sorts of organ trouble if ingested.
He was let off with a warning and moved to serving his meals on stainless steel platters.
I could probably survive being made to eat lead, but if this motherfucker in the Hummer had successfully fired a silver bullet into any part of me, my prognosis looked grim.
I kept my head low, and I used the next couple of seconds to figure out what I was going to do next.
Then I heard the clicking sound again as this asshole readied another silver bullet in the chamber, and I sank myself even lower into my seat.
Fuck.
I settled my foot back on the accelerator with plans just to floor it away from this ass and hope for the best, but just as I went to put my foot down, I saw the corner of my phone as it slid into the footwell, and I had an idea.
Just like wolves, werewolves had certain cones and rods in their eyes that provided them with fantastic night vision, and we were extremely sensitive to bright lights being shone directly at us.
I knew my phone wouldn’t be able to provide a bright enough beam to give this fucker the ol’ razzle-dazzle, but I had something in the glove box that would do the trick:
A cheapass flashlight Katherine and I kept in the van for emergencies that had no business being as bright as it was for twenty dollars.
Seriously. This thing could give a redhead sunburn.
The scent of anxiety was thick in the air while my Beta assailant waited for me to raise my head back up so he could blast it clean off my shoulders, but he wouldn’t have to wait for much longer
I heard confused grunting and rustling as I quickly snapped my seatbelt off and laid down across the passenger seat, and in one fell swoop, I pulled the glove box open and yanked the super-charged flashlight out from inside it.
In the two seconds it took me to sit back upright and shine this handheld floodlight into the Beta’s face, he was already leaning across his own passenger seat to get a look at what I was doing, and I was able to send a strong beam of divine light burning through his tapetum lucidum.
This was the reflective layer wolves and werewolves had behind our retinas that helped us see in the dark, but it also stung like a bitch if we ever got bright lights shone into them.
In fact, with the new LED headlights lighting up the roads like Christmas every night, a lot of shifters were now opting to drive with sunglasses at night, which led to some strange looks to say the least.
“Graaghhh, fuck!” the Beta bounty hunter-- who I’d decided I was going to call Beta Fett-- shouted as he recoiled from the flashlight’s blast, and he threw his arms up to shield his burning eyes.
“Fuck you, asshole!” I yelled as I slammed my foot on the accelerator and squealed down the asphalt.
This guy had obviously followed my scent from somewhere, and now I couldn’t let him stay alive because he’d obviously track me to Trent’s or Whitney’s.
But he had a gun, silver bullets, and a Hummer that could flatten me like a pancake. I could try and engage him in a high-speed chase, but honestly, I didn’t want to put myself in any more of a dangerous position than I’d already found myself in.
What the fuck was I going to do?
As I sped down the road in the opposite direction from where I lived, I thought about how I could immobilize this asshole without getting out of my car.
I had no doubt he’d be coming after me when his temporary blindness wore off, and I needed to be ready for him.
If only I could throw some sort of Molotov projectile through the window to blow this fucker up, or at least get him out of his car.
I had an array of flammable car-related aerosols in the back, like some interior spray and odor killer, and the gas from my van’s fuel tank was super flammable-- that would light his Hummer up like an effigy.
But getting to any of those would mean getting out of my car, and I didn’t want to take the risk of being mowed down like a matador by that big black bull, or shot like a deer caught in his headlights if he recovered quicker than I was anticipating.
Fortunately, as I wracked my brain on how I was going to get myself out of this shitty situation, inspiration landed in another form.
Diaper bomb, anyone?
Diapers had petroleum in them, right? So when they were dry, they were super flammable.
And this guy probably didn’t know it, but he was messing with a daddy who had learned the hard way to always keep a stash of diapers in the car.
If someone had told me last year during poonami season in the back of the van with Charlie that I’d be thankful for the lessons afforded to me that day, I’d have told them to go fuck themselves, but here I was, thankful that I knew to always keep a stash of clean diapers on hand.
I skidded the car to a halt, and I leaned back and stretched my arm beneath the driver’s seat where I kept a cloth bag stuffed with diapers. Then I slammed the whole bag onto the passenger seat while I fished around in the car door for the lighter I’d had floating around there for over a year.
It was a yellow plastic lighter, and it was there from when I picked Ike up from a party one time. He’d drunkenly spilled the entire contents from his pockets in my car like Sonic the Hedgehog’s rings, so I shoved everything in the car door and told him he could have it all back when he was of sound mind.
Ike had grinned and said “You might as well keep it all then,” and stumbled back into his house.
God, I’d loved that idiot.
I dragged my hand through the nickels, snack wrappers, and gum packets, and I finally came upon the smooth plastic of the lighter.
“Gotcha,” I said with a smile as I nestled the lighter underneath my right thigh. “Good old Ike coming through for me once again.”
I wasn’t going to wait for Beta Fett to come to me this time, so I pulled off the neatest three-point turn a clumsy old minivan could make, clipped my seat belt back on, and charged back up the road to where I’d left the maniac who had come for me with stars in his eyes.
The Hummer was in the same place as I’d left it, and though I couldn’t decide if I thought the fucker inside it was still reeling from the flashlight or staying still to get me with another quick attack, I’d already decided I was just going to charge right into battle in the hopes of catching him off guard.
Though, who would ever be ready to have a fiery diaper land on their lap while they sat behind the wheel of their car?
As I approached Beta Fett’s car, I grabbed the drawstring bag from the driver’s seat, and I pulled a diaper out and set it on my lap. Then, when I got just a little closer, I grabbed the lighter from underneath my leg, and I brought the two together while manning the steering wheel with my knees.
I was like two feet away from being parallel with Beta Fett’s window, and I wanted to throw the burning diaper in and fucking skedaddle. He would either catch on fire and die inside his vehicle-- which would probably go up in flames, too-- or he’d get out and stop, drop, and roll.
And I was hoping for the latter, so I could at least have the satisfaction of kicking this guy’s ass before he went to meet his maker.
I was almost up to the bumper of the Hummer now. I had to time this just right.
With one strong push of the striker wheel, the flint clicked, and a huge flame leaped from the lighter--way bigger than the average cheap lighter’s flame should be.
“Fucking HELL!”
Ike had clearly tampered with this thing at some point, and I jumped in my seat as the elongated flame lashed at my fingers.
I quickly shifted my hands to minimize scorching my fleshy human palms and pushed the long flame into the diaper, and it caught onto the plastic outer coating as soon as it made contact.
As I watched the plastic peel and curl away, I knew I wouldn’t have much time before this whole thing went up like a tinderbox in my hands, and I sped up to be parallel to Beta Fett’s window while playing hot potato with the diaper.
Then, when I was lined up with the Hummer’s open window, I pushed the flint down one more time and introduced the exposed dry cotton inside directly to the giant flame, and a big section of the diaper went up like a tiny bonfire in my hands.
I held on tightly to the part that hadn’t caught alight yet and readied myself to swing it out the window, and a last-second stroke of inspiration hit me.
In a bid to really make this thing kick out, I tore a small hole in the cotton and stuffed Ike’s lighter inside.
Then, with seconds to spare as the flames traveled across the dry cotton, I leaned across the passenger’s seat and launched the flaming rag through Beta Fett’s open window.
Fett was in the process of sending a hurried text to someone as I launched my attack-- probably his boss to tell him I’d been a little bit more slippery than anticipated-- and there was a split second look of confused horror on his face as the volatile projectile crash-landed on his lap. Then there was a shriek as he threw his phone down and quickly unclipped his seat belt as the flames caught onto his clothing.
I wish I could have stayed close to watch the fireworks, but I knew the enclosed lighter was going to blow, and I needed to be well out of the way, so I’d already floored it down the road fifty yards away.
Consider this a drive-by diaper bombing.
I stopped in the road and kept my eyes on the Hummer in my windshield, and I could see the bright orange flames dancing and Beta Fett inside scrambling as he threw himself out the door.
Then FWOOOSH.
Beta Fett’s feet had just about hit the ground when a magnificent kicking, spitting fireball exploded in the driver’s side of his car.
What the fuck had Ike done to that lighter?
There was an almighty bright light and a series of panicked screeches as the flames latched onto the hairs on the side of Fett’s shifted face, and soon enough, he was running around on the grassy median looking like Ghost Rider.
The Beta shrieked as he tried to knock the flames from his head and body by slapping them back, and he tried his damnedest, but the fire was climbing his hairy form like a ladder.
I watched Fett launch himself into the ditch he’d tried to send me down so he could presumably roll in the mud and get the fire out, and I knew it was my chance to finish this.
I spun my steering wheel and absolutely slammed my foot down on the accelerator as I skidded my van back down the median and onto the grass, and I teetered it back on the lip of the ditch for just one second to evaluate the situation.
And when I saw Fett had successfully rolled in enough shit to put the fire out, I knew it was time for me to pin him under my wheels.
My battered old van and I took a leap of faith as we flew to the bottom of the ditch, and Fett didn’t even have enough time to stand up before I heard that almighty crunch and felt my van jump as it trampled his body.
Got him.
I leaned out my window and saw the Beta twitching and floundering in the dirt underneath my van wheel. He was grunting and gasping in pain, so I knew he wasn’t dead, which was good, because I wanted to ask him some questions first about who the fuck sent him after me.
Though, if he pulled that gun on me again, the interrogation would be over. I would show no hesitation in killing this guy.
I turned the engine off and jumped out of the van, but I made sure to shift my feet first and land on his outstretched hand with force, just before shifting into my full Alpha form to really show this guy who really was the big bad wolf here.
“Graaaahhh!” the Beta howled as his fingers cracked beneath my feet.
I took a quick glance at where exactly my wheel was pinning the Beta’s body down, and I saw I’d got that sweet spot of his pelvis and upper legs, and there would be no sudden death through exploded organs during our little talk.
He did look significantly fucked up, but the melted skin and patchy fur on his head was nothing that his regenerative healing abilities couldn’t handle.
“So you’re still alive,” I spat. “Good. Lucky for you. And lucky for me, too. I want to ask you a few questions.”
“I-I ain’t sayin’ s-shit,” the Beta stammered through pained breaths.
“That’s okay, I can wait,” I said. “It looks like you’re not going anywhere. Though I wouldn’t like to guess how your broken hips are going to heal while caught underneath the wheel like that…”
There was a flash of panic in the Beta’s eyes, and he suddenly began grunting and writhing as he desperately tried to roll out from underneath the van wheels, though to what end, I don’t know.
“Graagghhhh… Fuck. W-What do you wanna know?” Fett asked as he laid his head back on the dirt.
“Ah, now that didn’t take long,” I said with a smirk. “Obviously, I want to know who the fuck you are and why the fuck you tried to blast my brains out with a silver fucking bullet.”
“I… I ain’t s-sayin’ s-shit.” The Beta repeated his shitty catchphrase.
“I believe I said this earlier, but you do understand attacking your Alpha is pack mutiny, right?” I leaned over so he couldn’t help but look back at me. “As far as AWOO is concerned, that’s a federal offense. Shows danger and unrest among packs when Betas turn on their Alphas. Goes against the natural order of things in a way that AWOO is not too fond of.”
“I-I ain’t one of your B-Betas.” The Beta of mysterious origins took a deep, shaky breath in. “So you can… you can f-fucking t-tell AWOO w-what you like.”
This guy was starting to sound like goddamn Foghorn Leghorn.
There was definitely a play on his legs being stuck underneath the wheels of my van, I just couldn’t think of it yet.
Foghorn Fett wasn’t being as cooperative as I’d have liked, but at least he’d let slip to me that he wasn’t one of my Betas, and I still wasn’t buying that this was some random lone wolf with a vendetta against me.
“So you’re not one of my Betas, but you’ve come here on a mission to kill me,” I surmised. “That means someone’s sent you after me, because you’ve had to come a long way if you’re not one of mine, and you’re not some lone wolf with a grudge, are you? So. I’ll ask again. Who the fuck sent you?”
“Fuck you,” Fett snarled as he stared up at me from the dirt.
“Alright, have it your way.” I walked calmly back to the driver’s side of my van, and I perched on the edge of the seat so there’d be just enough downward pressure for the Beta to feel the weight he was under.
Ooh, that was a nasty crack.
“Fuuuuuck! C-Call AWOOGA, man!” Panic lit up Foghorn Fett’s face as he bolted upright at the waist and tried in vain to slash at my tires. “My fucking legs are going to heal like this!”
“Pfft,” I scoffed. “And what did you think that silver bullet was going to do to my head? Pop out? Were you just going to deliver a warning shot and then call AWOOGA for me?”
The Betta groaned in pained exasperation as he slung his head back to the ground, and he began taking deep breaths in and exhaling loudly to cope with the pain of having his legs crushed underneath the wheel of my van.
It looked like I wasn’t getting as far with negotiations as I’d have liked, and although I had absolutely no intention of calling AWOO to come help this guy, his Hummer was fully up in flames at this point, and although AWOO had a pretty lenient policy on grievous bodily harm and the like, fire was the one thing they were pretty hot on.
Letting a fire rage without reporting it never ended well, but if AWOO got to the scene first, at least they could do the necessary paperwork that put the incident down to territorial disputes rather than the arson charge and the full investigation that would come with it if the human emergency services found a car on fire first.
Sure, I’d have some questions to answer as to why I hurled a flaming diaper at a Beta with intent to kill, but once I explained it was in retaliation to a silver bullet being fired at me, I knew they’d see my actions as justified.
I groaned as I leaned into the footwell and picked my phone up, and Beta Fett groaned as my wheel rocked on his pelvis.
“You have the power to end this,” I called down to him while I pulled my AWOO portal up and sent my location as an urgent message to the fire response unit of AWOOGA.
