Werewolf Chronicles Chapter 3

Werewolf Chronicles

Chapter 3

         The factory complex sat on the edge of a small clearing, surrounded by a high chain link fence, topped with lethal looking razor wire.  The factory was large, with a three story parking garage attached to one side and high towers looming over the complex.  Its front gate had been knocked down, crumpled on the charred asphalt; the small guard house beside the entrance had been reduced to splinters, the remains burning violently.  A mix of warning sirens echoed across the factory, blending together and creating an assault of sound.
         A second floor window exploded as James dove through, Elisa clutched tightly between his arms.  The razor sharp glass pieces tore into his skin, leaving deep gashes through his coarse fur.  He landed hard, the impact vibrating through his legs as he rolled to ease the landing.  Elisa flew from his arms as he landed, sprawling across the ground painfully.  James’ fur was covered in blood, and more was quickly draining out onto the ground around him.
         Elisa rushed back over to him, grabbing his fur and shaking.  “James, you need to get up, James?”
- - - -
Two Nights Ago
         
         Elisa groaned, consciousness slowly returning to her, her aching body proof of that.  Every muscle in her body was sore, the spots on her arms and hand where the doctors had forcibly withdrawn blood and the bruises across her wrists and ankles where the restrains were.  She was in a pitch black room, the only light a small sliver at ground level, near her feet.  Though she couldn’t see, she could feel the metal chair beneath her, the Velcro straps around her limbs grinding into her tender skin.
         The last few days were a complete blur in her memory, events mixing together and making little sense.  She could remember armed men bursting into the apartment, firing at her as she ran back to the bedroom.  After that she wasn’t completely sure.  There were vague images of men in white coats asking her questions, and sticking painful needles into her skin.  The questions had ranged from weird, their diet, and all the way into offensive, they had wanted details about their sex life.
         “Fuck this, I’m out of here.”  Elisa twisted her wrists around, groping at the Velcro straps with her long fingernails.  Her nails kept slipping from the fabric, and around the tenth try, her nails caught the fabric strap and began to pull it free.  The tearing sound was frighteningly loud to her ears in the quiet room, but she pulled it open, quickly yanking the others away too.  Her legs felt like jelly as she walked unsteadily towards the sliver of light, her hands out in front of her, groping through the dark.
         When her hands found the wall, she began to slide them up and down, hoping to find a doorknob, and that it was unlocked.  She found the door handle, pushing it down with a surprising click and it swung open.  A hallway was on the other side, its walls bare concrete with pipes running in all directions and bare light bulbs hanging from the ceiling.  She waited a long time, her ears listening for any sign of people running towards the escaped woman.  When she didn’t hear anything, she crept out into the hallway, slowly at first, but her walk quickly turned into a jog.  The corridors twisted around one another, and she soon realized that she had no idea where she was going.
         She stopped running by a small office, a large window looking out into the hallway and another facing outside, looking down on a half filled parking lot; both windows had steel mesh over them, preventing entrance.  “Hey, my jacket!” through the window she could see her brown jacket, lying across a metal chair.  On the desk was her purse, beneath which was a file folder with her name across it.  “Bastards,” she pushed the door open, locking it behind her as she sat down at the desk and opened her file.
         Most of the paperwork inside the file was her medical records, looking like they had been copied in a hurry.  A brief psyche profile was inside, mostly referring to her attitude, and relationship to James.  The last few pages were made up of complicated blood tests that made little sense to her, except that they had been done on her recently.  The door rattled against its frame, and she jumped, knocking her purse over and spilling its contents.
         Outside the door were several of the black clad commandos, each of them in different states of undress.  It looked like she had caught them surprise by escaping.  One of the large men pounded his fist against the door again.  “Get out of there!”
         “Come get me asshole,” Elisa screamed back, looking hurried around the room for some sort of escape.  Not seeing a way out, she grabbed one of the tall filing cabinets, tipping it over in front of the door.  The cabinet was heavy, and it took her bracing against the wall to get it to fall over, losing her balance in the process and landing hard on the floor.  Lying in front of her face was her bright pink phone, its screen looking back at her.
         Snatching the phone and her purse, she dove beneath the desk, dialing James’ phone number quickly.  Please be there.
         “Elisa is that you?” James answered.
         “James, they took me, I need your help . . .”
         “Where are you?”
         How would I know? she thought as the door rattled again.  “They’re going to break down the door.”
         “Elisa, where are you?”
         “Damn it James, I don’t know.”
         There was a pause before James responded.  “Can you leave your phone on, hide it or something?”
         Why is he asking me that?  “Yeah, but why . . .”
         “Just do it, I’ll find you.” 
         The door exploded inward in a loud shotgun boom, wood splinters showering the office.  Elisa screamed as another blast threw pellets into the desk beside her head.  The men were rushing into the room as she threw the cell phone into the vent grate.  One of the commandos grabbed her shoulders and she threw her heel into his groin, eliciting a loud curse as he grabbed the injured area and fell to the floor.  “Fucker.”
         She heard movement on the top of the desk, looking up in time to see a rifle butt hitting her face, then everything went black.
- - - -
         The red Dodge flew around the sharp bend, its rear tires sliding off the roadway and throwing dirt high into the air.  James struggled against the steering wheel, trying to stay on the road with one hand, operating his phone with the other.  Several months ago he had turned on a GPS tracking service with his phone provider, and he was glad now that it was still activated.  The rising sun was glaring off his windshield, nearly blinding him as he drove down the narrow highway.  Thick trees whipped by on either side, occasionally broken up by distant homes of logging trails.
         His phone beeped, losing service again and he swore loudly.  The closer he got to Elisa’s phone, the worse his cellular signal seemed to be getting.  He was ready to pull over and hunt for a better service area, when a side road popped into view.  A large factory was visible beyond the trees, a tall fence ringing its perimeter.  Employees were steadily passing through the gate, all of them showing identification badges before they were allowed entry.  He let the truck roll slowly past the factory, not wanting the security guard to become suspicious.
         Need to find a way inside.
- - - -
         The white Ford Explorer rolled over the rough terrain.  ‘Aperture Science Security,’ was written in big bold lettering on the side, with cheap blue lights on the roof.  The security guards inside scanned the roadway, shining their flashlights into the dark night around them.
         “I can handle another quiet night,” the driver commented.
         “Yeah, but it’d be nice for something to happen, this gets old,” the passenger said.
         “Not me.  Oh shit!”
         James burst out of the woods, already in werewolf form, his claw smashing through the driver’s window, grabbing the guard and throwing the man over his shoulder.  The man crashed against a tree with a thud as James dove through the shattered window, knocking the passenger out the far door.
         James growled at the unconscious man.  “My truck now.”
- - - -
         The SUV rolled slowly towards the guardhouse, the driver slumped unconscious over the steering wheel.  The gate guard watched as the truck continued to roll, knocking against the closed security gate.  He ran out of the guardhouse, pulling open the shattered driver’s door and pulling the unconscious guard from his seat.  There was a light plink of metal popping; that’s when he spotted the string running from the driver’s belt and beneath the seat.  The guard caught a glimpse of grenades beneath the seat, their spoons flying through the air, as the explosion engulfed them both.  The fireball shattered the guardhouse, bending the gate inward.
         The Dodge exploded down the road, slamming the burning SUV out of the way in a shower of broken plastic and headlight.  James kept his foot pressed against the accelerator, crashing into the damaged gate and throwing it open.  It was hard to control the truck in his werewolf form and he bumped into several cars in the parking lot.  His phone sat on the seat next to him, a dot on the screen representing Elisa’s phone.  The truck jumped over the curb, leaving deep ruts in the grass as it sped towards one of the side entrances.  He slammed the truck to a stop, grabbing his phone and running towards the brick wall.  Elisa’s phone was somewhere in front of him, but he wasn’t sure which of the floors it was; the tracking system hadn’t been that specific.
         James looked through the two windows near him, but there were only empty offices on the other side.  Bunching his feet beneath him, he leapt up to the second floor windows, digging three of his claws into the brick to keep him there.  The left window looked in on a hallway, but the right was a trashed office.  The door had been broken down, the desk was askew and one of the cabinets was on the floor.  That’s the one.  He ripped the mesh covering away, punching through the glass and working his way inside.
         A quick search of the room and he didn’t find anything.  Using one of his claws to carefully dial his phone, James began to search for Elisa’s.  He found it behind one of the grates, shutting it off and stuffing it into his tattered jeans along with his own.  “Now, where the hell is Elisa?”
- - - -
         The sound of an explosion rocked Elisa awake with a groan, holding one hand against the bump across her forehead.  The guards had thrown her into a small storage room, the only thing inside were thin metal shelves.  It looked like the room had been a janitor’s closet; there was still a dingy looking plastic washbasin in one of the corners.  She stood up slowly, holding one of the shelves as the world twisted around her; it took her four more unsteady steps until she was leaning against the basin.
“Oh . . .” Elisa moaned as thick, brown water coughed out of the sink.  She waited to see if the water would turn clear, but it only got slightly less brown.  Despite the color she took several handfuls of water, sipping it slowly; she was thirsty, and had no idea how long she had been unconscious.  There was loud shouting outside her door, followed a moment later by a high pitched alarm.
         “My poor head, what is going on out there?” she asked herself, walking more steadily now towards the door, pounding on it angrily.  “Hey, what’s going on out there?”
         “Shut up!” the man on the other side responded.
         “Who do you think you are?  Telling me to shut up.  Come in here and I’ll show you!” Elisa screamed back, her voice straining in her throat.
         “Stupid bitch,” the guard cursed.
         There was a key turning in the lock, and Elisa stepped back, looking for anything to use as a weapon, but not finding anything.  She turned to face the door as it opened, balling her fists tightly.
         An angry looking guard stepped through the door, swinging a large fist at her.  Elisa ducked the punch, but caught the guard’s knee as it slammed into her chin, bloodying her lip and tossing her into one of the shelves.  She dove forward, her long fingernails searching for the man’s vulnerable face.  The guard knocked away one of her hands, the other finding soft flesh in his left cheek and tearing.  “Take that, fucker.”
- - - -
         James jumped up onto the beams above the catwalks that crossed the massive center area of the warehouse.  It looked to James as if the building had been used to process chemicals, but he wasn’t sure what kind.  The alarm had started several minutes ago, and he figured that he was safer in the dark above the catwalk than on it.  A group of commandos ran by beneath him, none of them looking up and James turned his path towards the door the men had come out of.  He dropped down onto the catwalk with a thud, pushing through the door at a near run.
Two commandos were in the small room, one of them watching a bank of monitors the other looking at the door.  The other had been near the door, and started to shout as James drove his claws through the guard’s chest.  The commando near the monitor twisted, firing a combat shotgun at James.  The shot burned through his shoulder, splattering his blood on the wall behind.  Growling, James threw himself at the guard, smashing his body against the monitors.  He shoved the barrel against the commando’s chest as he fired again, the pellets throwing the man’s brains across the screens.
         James let the man slide to the floor, wiping the blood and brains from the screens.  He scanned the images quickly, hoping to find some sign of his wife.  Ready to give up, he found Elisa on one of the lower monitors.  She was in a fight with one of the commandos; she was on his back, her nails deep in the man’s face.  James smiled, God I love her.  Beside the monitors was a small map of the facility, each of the camera’s numbers stenciled on it.  He ripped the map from the wall, using his claw to scratch a circle around Elisa’s camera.  “I’m on my way babe.”
- - - -
         With a swift kick against his back, Elisa pushed the guard back into the storage room and slammed the door shut.  The man had hit her several times, and she could already feel her face starting to puff up.  She felt like crying, but she was too angry to stop now and stomped off down the hallway.  This time she was luckier, a bright red exit sign came into view after the first corner.  “Thank god,” she mumbled, starting to trot after the exit signs.  This time she was more hesitant, peaking around each of the corners she arrived at; waiting first to make sure there weren’t any approaching guards.
         Between the wailing alarm and the punches she had received to her face, the ache in her head was becoming severe.  She stopped to lean against one of the walls, staring down at the ground and taking several long, deep breaths.  The pain in her head was just starting to lessen when she heard the voices.  Elisa crouched down, slowly peaking her eyes around the corner.  At the end of the hallway, standing beneath a bright red exit sign were two guards.  They were talking loudly to one another, one gesturing down the hallway towards her, the other pointing their gun towards the door.
         “How am I going to get around them?” she muttered.
         As she watched the outside door flew inward, breaking from its hinges and slamming into the nearest guard.  On the outside of the door was a seven foot tall beast, with stained brown fur and ravenous looking jaws.  It wrapped a large claw around the nearest man’s throat, lifting him up and tossing him against the wall with a sickening crack.  The other guard, still beneath the door, pulled out his sidearm, firing several bullets through the beast’s body.  The bullets just passed through its stomach and chest, crashing against the far wall in a spray of blood.  It put its full weight on the door, rearing one leg back and throwing its massive foot claws into his face.  The guard’s face was instantly turned into a bloody mess.
         “Don’t come down here,” she muttered.  Elisa wanted to run, but she was afraid that the movement would attract its attention.
         The beast took several steps and stopped, pointing its nose into the air and taking several short, quick breaths.  It sniffed a few more times, now deeper and slower than before.  The beast’s eyes snapped down the hallway, locking onto Elisa’s.  It let out a short yip, running towards her, its feet pounding the floor hard enough to shake her body.  Elisa stood up as the beast reached her; she wasn’t sure whether to run or stay, afraid that it was too late to do anything.
         Without warning, the beast wrapped its arms around her, pulling them into a tight embrace.  Filled with panic, Elisa start to yell and kick, trying to push the thing away.  “Get off of me!”
         “Elisa, its me, stop!” the beast growled.
         “What?’ the voice sounded familiar, but it was heavily distorted by his altered vocal cords.  “James?”
         “Yeah.”  He started to kiss her, but decided against it, instead setting Elisa back on the ground.
         “How . . . what . . ?”
         “Look, it’d take too long to explain it or change back, but you’ve got to trust me right now okay?”
         “I do, but . . .”
         Three short gunshots rang out, bullets driving into James’ back and knocking him forward.  Three commandos stood in the ruined doorway, one of them talking hurriedly on his radio.  Howling, James ran down the hallway, more bullets slamming into his body, but doing nothing to slow his charge.  He crashed into two of the guards, his claws driving through their body armor and into the wall on the other side.  Yanking his claws out, he turned towards the remaining man.
         Pain lanced through his body, and he collapsed to the floor.  James rolled onto his back, looking up at the remaining guard.  The guard held what looked like a cattle prod, smiling as he shocked James again.  A painful howl escaped his mouth, nearly deafening Elisa as she watched helplessly.  She wanted to help her husband, but she didn’t know how to stop the man hurting James.  James struck out with one of his claws, the guard easily dodging it and shocking him again.  “Elisa, get the hell out of here!” he yelled, the next shock turning everything black.
- - - -
         “Have we found his wife yet?” the voice was gruff and sounded irritated.
         James was vaguely aware of the pain ebbing through his body, and the fog that still covered his mind.
         “No sir, he tore Williams and Smith to pieces.  In the confusion, she managed to escape.”
         “Well, what can she do?  We have Ross, that’s what matters.”
         Why do I matter so much? he thought, trying to remain as still as possible.  The wolf form had left him, he could feel his weaker body now enclosing him, and wasn’t sure he could call on it again.
         “Why is this one werewolf so important, aren’t they all the same?”
         James heard footsteps approaching him, and felt the presence of a person standing over him.
         “For a creature so young, he is very powerful.  He destroyed our retrieval team sent after him and attacked a hospital.”
         “He was looking for his wife, sir.”
         “Yes . . . double the patrols around the perimeter, I want her found, but don’t kill her.  I don’t intend on dealing with this man without a bargaining chip.”
         He listened as the men’s footsteps moved away from him and a steel door clanged shut before opening his eyes.  The only source of light was from beneath the door the men had left through, and it took him a long moment before his eyes adjusted.  He was on an examination table, in the center of what looked like an operating theatre.  The ceiling had windows looking out onto rows of chairs outside and bright lights were on the ceiling.  Several rows of morgue coolers were on one wall, and stainless steel drainage sinks were sitting beside him.
         “Fuck, I need to get out of here.”  He began to examine the table he was on, stretching his arms and feet.  As his skin came into contact with the restraints, pain lanced through his body, and he had to bite down hard on his lip to keep from screaming.  Above each restraint was a thick loop of silver, bolted to the top of the table.  “Shit.”
         Change, rip out those stupid restraints, his inner voice urged him.
         No, it’ll hurt.
         Only for a moment, you like the power, give in.
         I do, but . . .
         Do it, change, give in, then rip out all their throats.
         Hell . . .
         James closed his eyes, searching for the inner beast, but when he found it something was wrong.  He couldn’t change, the urge was there, but when he tried to force it through his body, nothing happened.  James swore quietly, he knew that it wouldn’t be long before someone returned here to dissect him, and he wanted to be free by then.  Twisting his arms around, he lifted up on the arm restraints; the silver sizzled against his skin, digging into the flesh.  He bit his lip hard to fight against the pain, warm blood flowing over his tongue as his teeth ripped through the lip.  The pain was nearly blinding as the left restraint snapped away, clattering across the floor.  His left hand flew across the table, helping to tear away the other restraint then unlatch his legs.
         “Shit, that fucking hurt!” James groaned, standing on shaky feet, examining his wrists.  There were black marks across his skin, the flesh around it a bright red.  He scanned the room, looking at the drugs around him, and taking the ones he didn’t recognize.  His medical knowledge wasn’t great, but he knew enough to take the stranger looking ones.
         “Mr. Ross,” the voice that had been over him before said from behind him.
         James spun on his heel, wishing he could transform again.  In the doorway was a tall man, nearly six foot tall with neatly cropped jet black hair and sharp features.  The man moved with a deadly confidence across the room, their eyes staying locked the entire time.  He was wearing a charcoal gray suit, with a finely tailored white shirt beneath.
         “Who the fuck are you?”
- - - -
         Elisa watched another group of commandos run through the parking garage and out towards the fence line.  It was at least the fourth group she had seen in the past thirty minutes, all of them running with a purpose.  All for me, she thought from her hiding place.  She had managed to worm her way on top of an SUV, pulling several pieces of luggage to keep her hidden.  Sleep kept threatening to overtake her as she rested there, her mind not wanting to think about where James was.
         Rough hands wrapped around her ankles, pulling her out of her hiding place.  She threw her arms out, trying to latch around the luggage rack, but only succeeding in spilling the bags across herself and her attacker.  The windshield cracked against her shoulder, sending pain through her body a moment before her back thudded against the concrete, knocking the wind out of her lungs.  Standing above her was an older man, with graying hair and a rough looking face; he was wearing the commandos’ uniform, lifting a radio to talk into it.  Elisa knew that if he made the call, she didn’t have any chance of escaping.
         With all her strength she threw her toe into his groin; he crumpled forward, clutching his groin as he fell to the floor.  Elisa rolled onto her hands and knees, driving her left knee into his face with a satisfying crack.  She snatched his radio and his pistol from the holster; she had never fired it before, but if she managed to find her husband, she wanted him to be ready.
         Elisa jogged through the parking garage, keeping the radio close to her ear and listening to the radio chatter back and forth between the commandos.  Most of it was senseless military jargon to her, but she understood enough of it to know most of them were away.  She was reaching to turn it off when one of the commanders got on the radio.
         “Roger that, Ross is secure in the center room; he’s sedated enough for an elephant.”
         “Good, get you ass out here, we need the help.”
         She snapped the radio off, running back into the complex, her ears aware for anything.  Even though she didn’t know where she was going, she just continued to back track her path from earlier, stopping where she had last seen James.  The walls were splattered with streaks of blood, and deep holes where his claws had ripped through the men.  There were more claw marks down the wall and along the floor, where he had been dragged.  She followed the tracks at a light jog, unsure what was ahead, but knowing that she wanted to find her husband.
         The complex around her slowly began to take shape as she ran deeper into it.  The rough machinery gave way to sleek looking medical equipment, and she passed by several of what looked like nurse stations.  What is this place?  The tracks abruptly stopped in the middle of the hall near one of the stations, amid a large pile of blood and fur.  Elisa stopped, ducking behind one of the counters to catch her breath and hide, unsure where to go.
         “Who the fuck are you?”
         She perked up as she heard James’ voice, standing and running through a pair of swinging double doors.  On the far side of the room the man’s hands were wrapped around James’ neck, holding him several inches off the floor.  James was trying to pry the man’s hands away, but he was having no effect on the tall man.  “Get the hell of my husband!” she screamed, firing the pistol.  The rounds went in all directions, crashing into medical equipment and shattering glass; one of the bullets tore into the man, the other striking James’ shoulder and knocking him down.
         The man shot across the room in blur, grabbing Elisa and lifting her off the ground before she even realized he had moved.  She yelled, firing the entire magazine into his stomach, the bullets driving through and spraying blood across the medical table.  He looked up at her smiling, revealing the sharp teeth inside his mouth.
         “You’re a vampire?” Elisa asked in disbelief.
         There was an ear splitting howl from across the room.  “Get your god damn hands off my wife!” James screamed.
         Elisa was dropped onto the floor as the man turned back towards James.  She was frozen in place, her eyes locked on her husband as he changed.  It looked painful, James grinding his claws into the floor as his body took on a lethal build and a deep growl escaped his snout.  He sprinted across the room, crashing into the man and throwing both of them into a bank of equipment.  The man drove his fist several times into James’ ribs, the crack audible even to Elisa across the room.  James roared in pain, grabbing the man and throwing him through the observation windows.  Broken glass rained down on him as he jumped up, aiming with both his feet at the man.  The man grabbed his feet in midair, throwing him into the far wall.  He hit the wall with enough force that he was halfway through when he came to a stop.  James twisted his body around, using one claw to try and pull himself out.
         He never saw the next attack; all he knew was that he exploded through the remains of the wall.  On he other side of the wall was a long observation window, looking down on the decrepit machinery inside the factory.  James stood up as the man leapt through the newly formed hole, arms crashing into James’ already damaged ribs.  The impact threw him through the observation window, more glass ripping into his skin as he was tossed into open air.
         His head cracked into a beam, flipping him end over end through the air.  A catwalk smashed into his side, the thin metal bending beneath his heavy weight.  James wrapped his claw around the railing, but he was too weak to hold on and slipped away.  A large tank was beneath him, his legs bouncing off it and rolling him onto the floor.  He looked up as the concrete floor rushed up to meet him, stars flashing through his vision as he rolled onto his back.  “Ow . . .”
         “That looked painful.”
         James looked up, into the face of his attacked; he was holding a large piece of machinery over his head.
         “Silver isn’t the only way to kill a werewolf.”
         Bright lights flashed over both of them, a roaring engine echoing through the dank factory.  One of the security SUV’s exploded through a stack of crates, crashing into the man, his improvised weapon clattering loudly to the floor.  Elisa kept her foot planted on the SUV’s accelerator, slamming through the smaller machines and debris as the man desperately tried to claw over the top of the truck.  She was rocked forward as the truck crashed into a large tank, its rear tires squealing against the pavement.  The man was pinned between the raging truck and the tank, his hands ripping into the thin hood.  Elisa clicked on the cruise control, kicking the door open and running back to where James was.
         “James, are you okay?” she skidded to a stop, dropping to her knees beside him.
         “Fuck, I feel tenderized,” he groaned.
         “You look pretty bad too,” Elisa smiled, reaching down to help him up.
         “Look out!” James screamed, pushing her aside.
         She looked up in time to see the SUV flying through the air towards her, its rear tires still spinning uselessly through the air.  Trying uselessly to defend herself against the truck, she turned her back towards it, sinking to the floor.  There was a horrendous sound of ripping metal and a thick metal crash, and it took her a long moment to realize she was still alive.  Behind her, James was holding the truck over his head, his muscles bulging against the massive strain.  He roared, throwing the vehicle back at the man.
         The look of surprise on his face was the last thing Elisa caught before the SUV’s front bumper collided with his head.  The truck ripped through the tank, its contents spilling out across the factory floor in a wild torrent.  Alarms began to blare across the complex as the fluid collided with other equipment and flames appeared.
         “We’ve got to get out of here,” James said, and without waiting for a response, he picked Elisa up and starter running.
         He crashed through a set of steel doors, his massive legs pumping fast as he sped down the corridor beyond.  Several of the commando squads had returned to the complex at the sound of fighting, and a pair of them appeared in front of James.  His stride never broke, turning his body away from the men as they opened fire, the bullets tearing into his sides and back.  Elisa screamed as he kicked open a stairwell and leapt up them, grabbing the railing above him and swinging up.  More gunshots rained around them, as the fires below started to find other chemicals to add to the growing toxic soup.
A large window at the far end of the floor was visible, the parking lot on the other side of the glass.  James pushed as hard as he could, every breath burning against his broken ribs and the bullets rubbing his damaged muscles painfully.  The commandos arrived at the top of the steps when he was nearly there, their gunfire tearing into his back as he threw his body through the window.
         James wrapped his arms tightly around Elisa as the glass shattered around them, the pieces ripping into his flesh.  He rolled through the air, aiming with his feet for the landing.  The impact jarred his entire body and he rolled with the momentum, crashing painfully onto his side.  Elisa flew from his arms, both of the tumbling to a rough stop among the debris littered grass.
         Elisa rushed back over to him, grabbing his fur and shaking.  “James, you need to get up, James?”
         All he could do was whine up at her.  He could already feel the light headedness from his loss of blood.
         She fished through his pocket, pulling out his keychain.  Elisa grabbed his head with both hands, staring at him.  “Where’s the truck?”
         He pointed across the parking lot, his truck barely visible around the corner of the building.
         “C’mon, let’s go.”  Elisa struggled to pick him up, straining beneath his heavy werewolf body.  “You’ve got to help me James.”
         Though he muttered angrily beneath his breath, he managed to walk with her slowly over to the truck.  It was even harder to get him into the passenger seat, but she managed it on the third try, running over to the driver’s seat.  The Dodge roared to life, its thick tires ripping deep ruts in the grass as she sped out of the parking lot.
         “Shit James, I need to get you to a hospital,” she moaned.  His blood was quickly soaking into the fabric of the truck, streaks of it across the windshield.
         He groaned, shaking his head.  “No . . .”
         “Damn it James, where then?”
         Reaching across her, he pointed at the dash mounted GPS.  “Saved . . . it in . . .there.”