Hairwolf
Chapter Forty Six

Meanwhile.

In the dark wet night, Ominous drags the Creature-Stef across a field. He appears to have a

destination in mind and is making his way straight for it. Stef, too weak to fight back, reaches out for something to latch on to but there’s little available. It’s mostly ferns and grass. Finally, her hand sweeps across a dead branch. She takes a good hold of it and swings it at his head. He stumbles and she escapes from his grip and runs into the dark forest.

Ominous is slow to get up. He notices blood on his hands. He searches his head but it’s not

coming from there, it’s coming from his side. His sharp hearing picks up on the distant sound of

twigs snapping and he’s after her again.

Brizzbee, standing at the tailgate addresses Lillian with, “I want you to put this on.”

He’s holding a gun belt and holster containing a 357 revolver. “Ever shoot a hand gun?”

“Yeah. I dated a cop a while back.”

“Open your rain coat … just in case. Point and shoot. You have five bullets, not darts,” he says, removing a bullet from the cylinder. “Now you have four bullets. I’m taking this one out so if you need to shoot you’ll have to pull the trigger twice. There won’t be a bullet in this chamber.

It’s a safety feature. Got it? Pull the trigger twice.”

“Got it!”

Foster steps up to her. “You only use this if he’s already killed me, Brizz and Stef. There’s a lot we don’t know about Ominous, or even Ralf for that matter. So whatever you do, don’t do it, unless it’s the only thing left to do.”

She holds the gun up and looks at it.

“Lillian. There’s nothing to worry about,” Brizzbee says. “It’s just a precaution. We like to have all our bases covered.” Brizzbee sweeps away the white powder from her chin with, “We probably shouldn’t have had the jelly donuts.”

“Well, at least we know if we can’t find them, they’ll find us,” Foster says.

Lillian crosses to Stef’s truck and grabs her bandanna from the dashboard and ties it around her neck.

Foster retrieves the dart gun and hands it to Brizzbee. They’re armed, ready for the night and start

their insertion into the forest. It’s dark, wet and raining. They follow single file with Foster in the

lead. Brizzbee trails behind Lillian.

Well under way, Brizzbee cautions Lillian, “don’t step there! It’s a snare.”

“A snare. For what, rabbits?” Lillian asks.

“Bigfoot,” he says, feeling somewhat foolish.

“You set traps for her. Did you tell her?” She can see it on their faces they did not. Perhaps an over-sight on their part. “How many?” she asks.

Brizzbee lights her up with his flashlight. “Several,” he says, holding the light on her. She has the bandana slung low around her neck. The raincoat is opened halfway and she’s moved the gun holster to the outside of the coat. Stef’s bowie knife sits on the other side. She looks good. Real good.

“They’re scattered all throughout here,” Brizzbee says. “You know, Lillian, I have to say, you look hot.”

After a moment she questions, “now you bring it up? In the middle of a thunderstorm, surrounded by lightning and werewolves, I’m turning you on?”

“Yeah!” He marches up to her and dips her in his arms for a dramatic kiss. Thunder claps, lightning strikes, and rain pelts the rain-gear as they lose themselves in each other’s embrace.

Foster watches in disbelief. “Just walk right up and kiss her without asking. At least I asked.”

Brizzbee pulls away from Lillian, spinning her back onto her feet. He fixes her hood, adjusts the zipper on her rain-coat with, “yeah! Hot! Stay close.” He steps aside, ushering her to move along. She’s a little taken aback but it’s nice. “Okay. Okay. I’m good,” she says pulling herself together.

The Creature-Stef pauses in a grove of mid-growth saplings, thirty feet in height. Up above, tiny animals scurry in the trees, alerting to her presence. She watches as they race across the branches

and on to adjoining ones. This gives her an idea. She searches the upper trees looking for

something. She centers herself between several trees and leaps high into the canopy. She starts leaning forward and back, causing the tree to bend closer and closer to the adjoining tree and crosses on to it. She repeats this over and over leaving the area without leaving a scent.

Ominous enters the grove, sniffing feverishly but comes up with little. He looks into the trees, but see’s nothing. He’s lost her. He’s upset over this. How did she disappear? He stands staring into the darkness, defeated, at least for the moment.

Creature-Stef has tree-hopped as far as she can. The trees have become older and thicker, much too rigid to bend. She drops to the ground and listens for signs of Ominous. But there’s another sound very close by. The sound of a rope snapping from a trap triggered that she landed on. Within seconds she’s hoisted up from the snare and engulfed in a large, thick mesh netting, ten feet above the ground. An old coffee can rings from an engine bolt tied within, alerting to the catch. She struggles to get free, chewing and clawing at the mesh but it’s tightly woven. She’s trapped and now the entire forest knows it.

Ominous, alerted by the sound of the bolt hitting the can, races to the area. He’s found her scent but not her. Hanging directly overhead, the Creature-Stef swings slowly in the breeze. The rope creaks and cracks to her weight. Ominous notices a rope secured to a tree. He trails the rope with his eyes, up the tree and down to the net. The Creature-Stef has the coffee can in her hands but it’s too late. He’s spotted her. He slashes the rope with his claw, sending her to the ground. He’s got her now. She goes ballistic within the netting but this only exhausts her. He drags her off.

Foster, Lillian and Brizzbee slip and struggle through the forest as wet leaves and pine needles conceal rocks and branches. Brizzbee pauses, listening to something behind him. But it stopped.

“You heard it too?” Foster asks.

“Yeah. Not anymore, though,” he replies.

“Heard what?” Lillian, asks.

“It sounded like we were being followed,” Brizzbee says.

“And you were going to tell me this, when?”

“It could be a deer. We don’t know,” says, Foster.

“You have deer that track humans? Jesus, Werewolves, man-eating-deer. Come to Maine, see the wildlife – we dare you. What else you got?”

Lillian pulls out her flashlight to search the area, but then - “Damn it! I broke my last nail. I’m out.”

“I know it’s not as lethal as a nail,” Brizzbee says, “but you still have that 357 magnum on your hip. It should hold em off until you grow another nail. Just sayin’.”

The cold, blank stare on Lillian’s face leaves Brizzbee to wonder if he went too far with the comment. Maybe she’s lost her sense of humor hunting werewolves in the rain.

She looks at him standing there as strikes of lightning, highlight his tall frame. He’s firm and unmoved by any threat, weather or otherwise. The man is the wilderness. She walks towards him, every step finding secure ground and comes to rest at his pause. She stares deep into his eyes. She reaches up, taking him in her arms and kisses him passionately.

Foster rolls his eyes, “Good grief.”

Lillian peels away from Brizzbee. This time she fixes his collar and pushes his hair back with, “I don’t need a 357 or nails.” “I got you. Move out.”

Foster, Brizz and Lillian come upon slices of rope laying on the ground. The area is familiar to Brizzbee. He checks a tree and finds a rope hanging limp across it.

“Oh, boy. I put a snare here. It’s gone.”

“What’s gone?” asks, Lillian.

“Everything.”

Foster inspects the rope. “The threads are still dry.”

Brizzbee inspects the pieces of snare on the ground. “Looks like we trapped something and something dragged it away.”

Lillian, asks, “is that Maine speak for, we trapped Stef and Ominous got her?”

“Or vice-versa,” Foster says.

The Creature-Ralf comes upon a small swath cutting through the woods. He smells the trail. It’s what he’s been looking for.

Ominous pulls the Creature-Stef up to the edge of a large pond and gives a quick visual search of the area. The rain has stopped. It’s quiet except for the pond creatures chirping in the night. He scoops a handful of water and drinks it. He looks into the mesh netting at the Creature-Stef. She’s looking at the water, petrified of what may come. Ominous grabs the net in both hands and drags it behind him into the pond. She watches as he submerges out of her sight.

She struggles to get free as well as keep her head above the water line, which she does, barely.

Her feet have found something to stand on. Maybe a branch or a submerged log. Whatever it is, it’s helping her stay above the water line. Then, suddenly, the net is yanked from below. She

resists, keeping her foot on the log but then a second yank pulls the entire net and her under water.

Bubbles of escaping air mark her descent as she’s dragged into the dark, mirky waters.

The surface settles to a mild calm, revealing no sign of disturbance.

Within minutes, Ominous emerges from the pond, walking determinedly towards the shore. His gate, strong and powerful, leaving a wake trailing behind him. He walks out of the water and heads straight into the woods without so much as a look back. Whatever his reason, he’s completed his mission, his goal. He reveals neither success nor remorse.

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