George knew that Lou wasn't going to simply drive off and
leave him, despite the overwhelming temptation to do so.
"Does he do this a lot?" Michele asked.
"Foolishly chase werewolves?"
"You know what I mean."
Lou shook his head. "Nah. Things usually go
pretty smooth."
That was true. It wasn't as if their
lives were a series of disasters. Even excluding the supernatural
element, the path this job had taken was unlike anything they'd
ever experienced. They'd exchanged some gunfire with gangsters,
just barely dodged the cops a few times, and once, when he'd been
carving a scarlet "A" on a cheating husband's arm, the man had
somehow gotten a hold of his switchblade. A quick punch to the nose
corrected the situation, but it had been a pretty scary
moment.
Overall, most jobs, even the most distasteful
ones, went reasonably well.
Lou had decided that he
might give this lifestyle another five years, keep building up his
nest egg, and then retire. Enjoy life. Travel to places that he wanted to go. Find a
girlfriend, and then propose to her. Let his beard grow down to his
navel.
If he had to die before that, so be it, but
he didn't want to die chasing a werewolf. Werewolves should be left
alone. He and George should've told Ricky to suck it and made him
find somebody else.
"C'mon, George," he said under his breath,
still watching the front door. "We shouldn't be here."
"Should you go in there after him?" Michele
asked.
"I'll give him a couple more minutes."
"I can wait here. I'll honk if somebody's
coming."
"What you mean is, you'll drive away as soon
as I get out."
"No, I won't."
"Of course you will. I would."
"You saved my life."
"Right. Which means you probably have a
newfound appreciation for not being dead. And I hate to say this,
but your ten percent has pretty much been flushed down the
can."
"I figured that."
"Do you think there's some
kind of reasonable explanation for this? I mean, it's hard to stay
a skeptic when a man changes into a wolf-thing right in front of
you, but do you think there's some way he could've faked it? Penn and Teller, they
could probably pull that off, don't you think?"
"Not unless they've turned to sorcery instead
of illusion."
"Crap."
"Yeah."
Lou shifted in his seat. "I'm surprised the
cops haven't shown up yet. That damn wolf was running down the
street in broad daylight. What about those people on the
porch?"
"They're probably throwing out all of their
weed."
"Could be."
"Or maybe the police don't rush out to
respond to werewolf reports."
"Well, the people who called
in wouldn't have to say it was a werewolf. They could just say it was a big
dog."
"But if they did use the word 'werewolf,'
that could explain why the police haven't given this a top
priority."
Lou nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Also the
people who live around here might have day jobs."
There was a crash from inside the house. Lou
sat up straight.
Did that noise relate to
damage inflicted by George, or to him?
"Crap," he said.
Michele said nothing. She looked as if she
might be back to considering making a run for it. If she did, Lou
probably wouldn't try to stop her, though he had no plans to tell
her this.
He sighed.
More crashes.
He had to go in there. No matter how dumb or
bordering on suicidal it was, he had to go in there to try to help
his partner.
"He's gonna get me killed," Lou muttered,
unfastening his seat belt. "Or maimed. It's official: you're seeing
me alive for the very last time because of him. Son of a bitch.
Excuse my language."
"No problem."
Lou looked over at Michele, took the keys out
of the ignition, and pocketed them.
"So you're leaving me with no way to escape
if the wolf comes back out?" she asked.
"I'm leaving you with no way to ditch us,
correct."
A gunshot rang out from inside the house. Lou
hurriedly opened the door and got out of the van. More gunshots
went off as he ran toward the front door. Oh, how this sucked. This
sucked so thoroughly. It was hard to even quantify
leave him, despite the overwhelming temptation to do so.
"Does he do this a lot?" Michele asked.
"Foolishly chase werewolves?"
"You know what I mean."
Lou shook his head. "Nah. Things usually go
pretty smooth."
That was true. It wasn't as if their
lives were a series of disasters. Even excluding the supernatural
element, the path this job had taken was unlike anything they'd
ever experienced. They'd exchanged some gunfire with gangsters,
just barely dodged the cops a few times, and once, when he'd been
carving a scarlet "A" on a cheating husband's arm, the man had
somehow gotten a hold of his switchblade. A quick punch to the nose
corrected the situation, but it had been a pretty scary
moment.
Overall, most jobs, even the most distasteful
ones, went reasonably well.
Lou had decided that he
might give this lifestyle another five years, keep building up his
nest egg, and then retire. Enjoy life. Travel to places that he wanted to go. Find a
girlfriend, and then propose to her. Let his beard grow down to his
navel.
If he had to die before that, so be it, but
he didn't want to die chasing a werewolf. Werewolves should be left
alone. He and George should've told Ricky to suck it and made him
find somebody else.
"C'mon, George," he said under his breath,
still watching the front door. "We shouldn't be here."
"Should you go in there after him?" Michele
asked.
"I'll give him a couple more minutes."
"I can wait here. I'll honk if somebody's
coming."
"What you mean is, you'll drive away as soon
as I get out."
"No, I won't."
"Of course you will. I would."
"You saved my life."
"Right. Which means you probably have a
newfound appreciation for not being dead. And I hate to say this,
but your ten percent has pretty much been flushed down the
can."
"I figured that."
"Do you think there's some
kind of reasonable explanation for this? I mean, it's hard to stay
a skeptic when a man changes into a wolf-thing right in front of
you, but do you think there's some way he could've faked it? Penn and Teller, they
could probably pull that off, don't you think?"
"Not unless they've turned to sorcery instead
of illusion."
"Crap."
"Yeah."
Lou shifted in his seat. "I'm surprised the
cops haven't shown up yet. That damn wolf was running down the
street in broad daylight. What about those people on the
porch?"
"They're probably throwing out all of their
weed."
"Could be."
"Or maybe the police don't rush out to
respond to werewolf reports."
"Well, the people who called
in wouldn't have to say it was a werewolf. They could just say it was a big
dog."
"But if they did use the word 'werewolf,'
that could explain why the police haven't given this a top
priority."
Lou nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Also the
people who live around here might have day jobs."
There was a crash from inside the house. Lou
sat up straight.
Did that noise relate to
damage inflicted by George, or to him?
"Crap," he said.
Michele said nothing. She looked as if she
might be back to considering making a run for it. If she did, Lou
probably wouldn't try to stop her, though he had no plans to tell
her this.
He sighed.
More crashes.
He had to go in there. No matter how dumb or
bordering on suicidal it was, he had to go in there to try to help
his partner.
"He's gonna get me killed," Lou muttered,
unfastening his seat belt. "Or maimed. It's official: you're seeing
me alive for the very last time because of him. Son of a bitch.
Excuse my language."
"No problem."
Lou looked over at Michele, took the keys out
of the ignition, and pocketed them.
"So you're leaving me with no way to escape
if the wolf comes back out?" she asked.
"I'm leaving you with no way to ditch us,
correct."
A gunshot rang out from inside the house. Lou
hurriedly opened the door and got out of the van. More gunshots
went off as he ran toward the front door. Oh, how this sucked. This
sucked so thoroughly. It was hard to even quantify
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