Treasure
Catch Her

“REVERSE,” Wolfman shouted at the Prospect. He put the van in gear and hit the gas. The tinted windows didn’t show much as he sped back, and the men in front of them were still closing fast.

“Shit, there’s more,” Nuke said as he looked out the back. “RAM IT,” he said as an SUV moved to block their retreat. They heard the engine race before there was another crash, then grinding of metal and burning of tires as the van tried to push the SUV aside.

“Does anyone have a gun,” Wolfman asked. Coming straight from the airport, they weren’t carrying.

“They do,” Rori said. A man had moved up next to the driver, yelling at him to stop the engine. Two more were in front of the van, guns raised, and more were coming. “Fuck this,” she said as she pulled the door open and jumped out.

“FREEZE,” a big man yelled, but Rori wasn’t listening. Instead of stopping, she ran forward at full speed. He hesitated a moment, as she was wanted alive. Rori used this to her advantage. He dropped the gun to grab her, but she ducked under his arms, then crashed her right foot into the side of his left knee. He screamed in pain as he dropped to the ground, and Rori was past him in a heartbeat.

The attackers ran after her, leaving the van and its occupants behind as they took off after the girl. “FOLLOW HER,” Elk said as she slid the door closed again.

The prospect put it in drive and maneuvered around the abandoned vehicles while Wolfman got out his phone. “GET ANYONE AVAILABLE, STRAP UP AND GET OUT HERE, THEY’VE TAKEN RORI,” he yelled to someone. “BENSON DRIVE NEAR TWENTY-THIRD.” Rori had taken off to the west, into the residential neighborhoods. It took a minute to go loop back around to get to where they thought she had gone. The headlights pierced the darkness, illuminating the suburban street, but they saw nothing. “SHIT!” Wolfman pounded the dashboard. “Drive, maybe we’ll get lucky.”

They moved through the streets while the President directed the Club members his way. He told the prospect to head back to Teasdale Park, where he waited until all the motorcycles had arrived. Wolfman waved to them to cut their engines and gather around. “Rori’s gone, she was here when they attacked,” he said. “She headed west. I want men down each of these roads, push forward together, and keep your eyes open. You two, drive back and forth on Talbot Road and don’t let her past you. You four, head back to the vehicles, one guy was injured, take him and any vehicles they left behind back to the Clubhouse.” The men nodded and ran off. “If you see her, get her on your ride and get the fuck out of there. I WANT HER BACK,” he yelled as two dozen Harleys started up.

--

Rori didn’t look back. She could hear them following her, and she ran as fast as she could into the shadows of the neighborhood. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she was leaping fences and running through yards like a gazelle. The changes of direction should have fooled them, but they stayed on her trail. She kept heading west, towards the traffic noises. “Trust me,” the voice said in her head.

”I can’t,” she said back as her head started to ache.

“I have to save us,” the voice said, and with that, she blacked out again.

--

Coral cursed to herself as she ran through the streets. Beta Carlson had arrived two days earlier with a team of five Council Enforcers, and this time he was leaving nothing to chance. Thanks to the intelligence she had obtained in the clubhouse, they had her team doing surveillance on the Steel Brotherhood chapter in Renton. The Council tech guys were monitoring cellphone traffic in the area, which gave the flight number. They knew only one van with a prospect was going to pick them up. It was the best opportunity the Beta had to get her, and he wasn’t going to let some human bikers stop him.

Coral was inside the airport, where she had seen the group of four leaving the terminal area. It was her first time seeing Rori in person, and she didn’t look like much of a threat. She was small and in shape, carrying herself with confidence. The two men in the group were typical bikers. The older one held hands with his wife while the other in his twenties stayed back. They weren’t easy targets, but at least the show of force they planned would convince them to stay out of it.

Other Enforcers were waiting by the curb in an SUV or watching for the Club van to arrive. The bikers never noticed them. The plan was simple- stop them, overwhelm them with force, and take Rori before they could react.

Plans were great until the first thing went wrong, and it always did. In this case, the driver of her chase vehicle didn’t stay close enough to keep the van from backing up. Coral bailed out just before the biker van backed into them, drawing her pistol, and moving around towards the driver’s side. It was then that the side door opened. Rori jumped out and turned to run.

“FREEZE,” she heard, but Rori didn’t. The guns were for show; they were under strict orders not to use them. They didn’t need to involve human authorities, and they didn’t want to shoot Rori while trying to capture her. Rori must have known this too because she charged Roberts, taking out his knee before running past them.

“Disengage and pursue,” Beta Carlson ordered as he got into his vehicle. The men surrounding the car lowered their pistols and ran after Rori.

The van driver put the biker’s vehicle in gear and drove away from Coral and the remaining others. “What about the van,” Coral asked.

“Let it go. Take the vehicles to these blocking points. James, head south, then turn right on South 35th. Coral, you two go north, get off on 23rd and head west until you hit Talbot Road. Contain and close in.” The maps on his laptop were essential, as the hilly terrain made roads a mess to understand. The two drivers got in their SUV’s and pulled out.

“Shit she changed to her wolf,” one of the pursuers sent. “Red wolf, damn fast. We’re running through backyards on the west side of Morris Avenue.”

“Pair up. One person shift, and the other takes the clothes. There are only a few more blocks before she runs out of houses. We can trap her on the hill leading down to Highway 167. Coral, you shift. Go to the utility break leading down the hill to the fence by the road.”

They had just made their first turn to the west, and she pulled off her clothes as he headed to the point closest to the hill. She shifted and waited in the back seat for him to stop. Her driver found a dark location near some trees and pulled over, then jumped out and ran around to open her door. She took off for the woods, moving through them until she reached the cleared strip where the utility lines headed up the side of the hill. Coral went most of the way down, finding a good observation point a short distance from the fence.

“Still in pursuit, she’s crossed into the trees and is heading down the hill,” one of the Enforcers sent. “Spread out, push her north. She can’t cross the highway, and Coral is waiting for her.”

--

Rori’s wolf crashed through the trees and shrubs behind the last house and ran down the steep hill as fast as she could. She could hear at least four men chasing her, and the closest ones were in wolf form. She got to the bottom, only to find an eight-foot-tall chain-link fence that separated her from the four-lane highway that also blocked her path.

Taking a glance behind her, she saw two wolves starting to follow her trail. Turning right, she started running along the fence line, looking for an opening. She was running full out when she came to a spot where a boulder was only six feet from the fence. Making up her mind quickly, she swerved uphill and pushed off the rock at full speed. Leaping from the top, she barely cleared the top of the fence. She hit hard and rolled in the rocky soil, yelping as she face-planted. Getting up quickly, she continued running. Her wolf stopped short when she got to the edge of the retaining wall.

The highway cut into the hill, and it was a fifteen-foot drop to the narrow shoulder below. Traffic was flying by, and she ran north while looking for a way out. She could hear the pursuers behind her. One pursuer yelped as he tried to leap the fence and didn’t get the height. She heard him crash into the chain link and fall back to the ground.

Rori’s wolf was so engaged in looking for a way across the highway she didn’t see the silver-grey she-wolf heading her way until it was too late. She jumped right, but the wolf smashed into her left shoulder and sent her flying. She yipped in pain as she rolled, and the wolf was on her in moments. Sharp teeth dug into her neck as she fought to get free.

She managed to get her back paws under the wolf’s belly and raked her claws down her stomach. The flesh tore in shreds, and it was enough for her to be released. She got up and ran again, the injured wolf in pursuit. She was faster, but her shoulder hurt, and she could feel blood leaking down her neck from the bite. With the other pursuers even closer than before, she knew she had to do something now.

Looking back at the traffic, she saw a line of eighteen-wheelers coming. The second was a grain carrier. It had a canvas cover, and she made her decision.

They wouldn’t take her alive.

Changing course towards the wall, she gathered all her speed and jumped well before the truck was even with her. She flew through the air as the trailer moved under her; her front feet hit, and she dug her nails into the canvas as she got jerked forward. Her momentum started to roll her off, but she spread her legs and stopped the roll just a foot from the edge. She crawled back to the center of the canvas, looking back at the wolves standing at the wall or the fence.

She put her head down and waited. The wind ruffled her fur as she sped north into Seattle.

By the time the truck backed into the terminal by the piers, Rori was shivering and sore. Her wolf knew she needed food and rest to heal up. Rori waited until the driver went inside, then slowly got up. She jumped from the top of the trailer to some boxes. A few minutes later, she was trotting out the gate in the light of the quarter moon.

The urban landscape wasn’t a suitable place to hide, and the scents were overpowering. Rori moved through the city, trying to find a park, but only finding concrete. She went into an alley, sniffing at the garbage bins from the seafood house. There was something else there. Stalking quietly, she peeked around the corner of the dumpster and saw a big raccoon with his head in a container.

Gathering herself, she made her leap. Her teeth bit hard into the fur of the animal’s neck. The raccoon squealed before one head shake snapped its neck. She gorged on the warm meat until she had her fill. Finding a cardboard box nearby, she lay down and closed her eyes.

“Miss, get up,” she heard as her someone grabbed her right shoulder. Her eyes shot open, and her left hand shot across to grab the offending hand. Another hand grabbed it instead. “You’re all right, girl. We’re going to help you.”

The policeman stood over her as she looked around, confused. They covered her naked body with a blanket. Another cop and an Asian man stood nearby. “Where am I?”

“Seattle. Do you know what your name is?”

“Rori. Rori King.” He helped her sit up; her whole body hurt, especially her shoulder. She could see blood on her arms.

“Don’t move too much, the ambulance will be here soon.” The policeman tucked the blanket around her as she shivered. It had happened again. She’d blacked out, and this time, she was miles from where she was before. “What do you remember?”

She searched her memories, but it was a blank. She remembered the attack, her running, and the pain, but she couldn’t involve the police. The last thing the Club needed was for the cops to come down on them. “I don’t know.”

The ambulance arrived and loaded her onto a gurney. “Make sure the ER pumps her stomach, it looks like she was eating a fucking raccoon,” the cop said to the driver as the doors closed.

“Probably needs rabies shots, too,” the driver replied. “Just another Monday morning, right?”

Rori spent a few hours in the ER. Her stomach got pumped, her neck stitched up, her shoulder X-rayed, and she got a tetanus booster and rabies shot. She still didn’t remember what had happened, but she gave them her Mom’s cellphone number. Mom gave them access to her medical history. The blackout, combined with her medical history was damning. “We’re transferring you to a facility that can care for you better,” the Doctor said as orderlies bound her hands to the rails of the gurney. “Have you been taking your medication?”

“Every day,” she said.

“It may be that the drugs are losing effectiveness. Extended blackouts are bad, but you’re injuring yourself and placing yourself in danger. We are placing you on a 72-hour psychiatric hold so the Doctors can evaluate a new treatment plan for you.”

“I don’t want to go back to an institution!” She struggled against the leather straps, but the orderlies were already attaching her ankles in the same way.

“You don’t have a choice, Ms. King. You need to get better, and the doctors at Fairfax Behavioral Health are the best in the region. You just get better,” he said as they wheeled her out to the waiting ambulance.

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