Wolver

The Wolver





I peered out the doors at the figures coming in. My fingers closing around the grip of the high capacity automatic in the pocket of my grimy military surplus field jacket. I was dirty and unshaved, to blend in better. The old Hindu Indian manning the bus station coffee shop looked up at them too. He had been giving me the evil eye for hours. But I kept buying and he wasn't going to run off his only paying customer. Even if the customer appeared to be a filthy, black wino. He must have figured I had a good day panhandling. I watched the two late night visitors enter. They were not what I had been expecting. They were young, one male, one female.



They stayed back in the shadows of the doorway, checking out the nearly deserted terminal. My only company most of the evening was "evil eyes", the snoozing ticket agent, and the occasionally homeless beggars that the agent and Indian took turns chasing out.





After looking the place over, the two in the doorway moved toward the ticket counter. I wasn't worried about robbery. Not if these two were the ones I was waiting for. If they were who I suspected they were they only wanted to get on a bus; for now. Any bus and it didn't matter where it was going. They were getting out of town because a noose was tightening on them. I figured out their method of operation from the reports I read. So I staked out the bus station.



I also knew that the bus wasn't going to make it to the scheduled destination if those two got on board. Once they got close to the next big town, they'd take over the bus and kill anyone on it and slip into the new town and start to hunt new victims. They weren't on the ten most wanted list, hell if they cracked the top one hundred I'd have been shocked, but they had prices on their scalps, and I aimed to collect. I'm a bounty hunter of sorts, I was passing thru this burg heading west on the tail of a top ten member. I thought I did a good job of hiding my stalk, but I lost him, or maybe he threw me off by crossing trails with these two dregs.



I picked up on some clues reading the morning paper, while searching for my primary target. I read an article reporting the city's homeless complaints regarding missing people. The police were canvassing groups of youths squatting in the river front and downtown districts at night. I recalled the same story in several other towns over the past year, so I took a gamble; while waiting for my primary to show me a sign. No bodies had been found yet, nor would they, these creatures know how to dispose of their victim's bodies.



After buying tickets they sat on one of the hard benches and snuggled up. They looked like so many other young couples, just some punk kids running away to be on their own. I knew better; they could be killers and I was going to end their roving ways tonight. I didn't want to cause a commotion in the station, but I could see they weren't going outside anytime soon when they lit up.





"Hey...You kids no smoking in here," the sleepy eyed ticket agent yelled.



"Fuck off baldy!" The female hollered back.



"I'll call the cops!" the agent shouted back; while his fingers raked his comb over back into place, an instinctively reaction to biting remarks of the girl.



She looked all of sixteen or seventeen, the boy looked about the same age , but they could be age of the agent, or his Indian sides kick. I didn't like the look in her eyes when the authorities were mentioned, so I decided to step in.



"That won't be necessary Sir," I yelled, to draw all attention to myself.



I held up my badge, it read "Bail Enforcement Agent"; not that any of them could read it anyway. I was playing a bluff, but it wasn't going to happen tonight.



"He ain't no cop" the girl screamed, "That's a fucking wolver!"



How she knew I don't know, she was more then likely just paranoid and called everyone she didn't know a wolver. I was pulling my gun out as I watched the transformation. I'd seen it before and yet it never ceased to amaze me. I heard the agent screaming and the old Indian yelled something in his native tongue.





My pistol snagged coming out my pocket and both young whelps were up and moving before I could get the drop on them. The female was heading for the back doors, her mate for the front, or so I thought.



I looked up just in time to see him lunge at me. I threw myself backwards and landed hard on my back with my arms extended up and out. I snapped off an unaimed shot from my Para-Ord P-14.  I was please to here a howl of pain from the youngster, but I didn't have an idea where he was hit so I rolled quickly to see where he landed. I heard a heavy thud, as he hit the floor and slid into the long counter that separated the ticket window and coffee shop from the public.



The female should have been long gone but she must have heard her wounded partner. My head snapped back in the direction of the rear doors as they crashed open as she charged back in. Straight at the agent who made the mistake of running for the doors fumbling with a ring of keys. Poor dumb bastard was looking for the door key and didn't even see her until she was on him.



"Oh god please!" He screamed as she raked him with tooth and claw.





He had heart, I'll give him that. He was battling her the whole time she savaged him. His fist slammed into her face several time before it disappeared into her big mouth. He pulled back his limb and continue beating on her as the ribboned flesh fell from the bone. He was already badly mauled as I ran up on them.



She looked up as I fired. Twice; one at the raging blur and one at her victim. I didn't hit exactly where I wanted, although I didn't miss either. I saw hair and blood puff off her neck, but the side of his head exploded in a pink mist full of brain and bone.



The male growled behind me, so I turned to check him. He was gut shot, the hollow point .45 caliber silver tip passed clean through him. He leaned on the counter bent over favoring his right side. He was hurt so badly that he was starting to look human again. I put him down with a shot thru his howling mouth.



I knew his mate was still alive and I had to get her before she ran outside. Slowly spinning, I listened for her, while watching for movement. She's a clever one I thought to myself, no noise, no wild charges. In my mind I saw her, slowly stalking me as she moved behind the counter using it for cover.



I crouched down low and crabbed my way around the corner of the counter. I stayed far enough away so I could see around the corner of the counter without getting a nasty surprise. I came upon a blood trail. I like the look of it; bright red blood in large splattered splotches. She was bleeding out quickly from an artery.



She might have been weakened, but she was still a killer.  If she got away she'd heal fast enough to do serious damage in a few days. I suddenly remembered the old Indian man when he cried out.



I was up and running in a big hurry, hoping at least save one person tonight from a horrible death or worst. The next sound I heard was a totally inhuman wailing of pain. I leap over the counter and landed in the coffee shop.



I saw the old Indian pressing himself up into a corner, an empty glass coffee carafe in his right hand. At his feet yelping and thrashing wildly was the hell hound bitch. Steam rising from her head and shoulders her clothes were wet; trapping the hot liquid she tried to shake off.



I emptied the remaining ten rounds into her flopping form. The over kill was not so much for her, but to use a little shock and awe, to terrorize and befuddle the Indian gent.



As I changed magazines I hurried over and pulled the survivor away from the kill zone. I walked him over to one of the benches in the corner of the terminal and told him not to move.



If I was lucky the police hadn't been called, after all this part of town was deserted at this time of night. Maybe the big building muffed the shot's reports enough to have not attracted any attention.

As I worked quickly picking up spent brass I noticed the panic button under the ticket agent's counter. I swore to myself as I saw the tell tale flashing lights reflecting off the walls. A peek over the counter told me it was too late to run away, and collect my bounty later. The two cops walked in not knowing what they had happened upon. They were still holding a private conversation as they came through the door.



Their disposition changed real quick when they saw my dirty black ass behind the counter. Then they saw the first body; the kid was laying out in front the counter looking very much like an innocent young victim. They had guns drawn and a scary look in their eyes as they slowly approached me.



"You behind the counter ...show me your hands!" The older looking one screamed.



If he was really paying attention, he would have noticed they were up already. I was in for a long evening and getting shot by a jumpy police officer wasn't going to help. I was quickly put on the floor and frisked, I told them about the .45 in my pocket before they asked if I was armed. Of course finding the big automatic got them all twisted up. Then they saw the ticket agent; dead!



"Aww geez, Mick he killed Barney...you, you rotten black sonof'ahbitch," The baby faced cop whined as he surveyed the carnage checking for survivors. "Oh my gawd he fuckin butchered a girl in here too."



These remarks magically made his partner's foot seem heavier. The fact that the foot in question was between my shoulders blades made it a mutual problem. Of course there was a survivor sitting in the corner. Had they not panicked, they just might have had a leg up on the situation. Besides puking all over the crime scene I couldn't figure out what else the younger cop was doing.



"Hey would one of you two fuckers like to talk to the Indian dude in the corner...owww." I got that much out before "big foot" stomped me.



"Shut the fuck up, Mutt" Big foot snarled. "Danny check the Indian."



For ten minutes the old Indian dude tried to make the cops, and their back up, understand what had transpired. Without much success. I guess my shock and awe plan, and a slight language barrier worked better then expected. The patrol supervisor arrived about then and that got me off the floor and shoved into the backseat of a car, then I was whisked to the closest precinct house.



I sat in the interviewing/interrogation room for twenty minutes before they came in. The two detectives looked tired and worn out. Their crumpled clothes, need of a shave, and shower told the story of long hours in the trenches. I knew they weren't gonna be happy with me.



The big one sat down across from me looking at the file he was using as a prop. I knew it wasn't on me because, they could not possibly access any files on me. I'm an enigma to society at large. Sure there's a dossier on me but these two didn't have it. Even the ID in my wallet was useless to them, all of it manufactured for me.



Before he could open his mouth I held up my hand, well I held it up as far as the restraints let me.



"I want my phone call...now!"



"You shut your fucking mouth...we'll tell you when you can make a phone call." The skinny one screamed running across the room and coming across the table at me. The big guy grabbed him and pulled him back across to the other side. As he held his partner back he looked at me.



"Now look buddy, he's a little worked up, I can't hold him back all night..."





"Then take these cuffs off me and I'll make him be still," I said with a smile.



Skinny jumped again and the big guy gave me a hard look. I'm sure he would have loved to beat a story out of me, but if I told them the truth it would be to much for the both of them, and who ever was behind the mirrored window watching us.



"Look your second rate good cop, bad cop, routine won't work on me Detective. Just give me my phone call and we can put all of this behind us.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? I want answers and I want them now! Big boy yelled.



"Lookie here, If you want to dance all night then go for it, but I'm not talking without counsel...Got it!"





They looked at each other, for a couple seconds they huddled to whisper. Then they left. I sat another forty minutes before a uniformed officer plugged a phone into the wall outlet next to the table I was shackled to.



When he walked out I punched in the 1-888 number I knew I would need to call tonight. I got one of those god awful automated talking switchboards. I just started hitting the number before the operator voice finished my options. After several more help menus I got a live female voice.

"Operations control, may I have your pass code please."



"My pass code is Carolina Anvil."



"One moment please."



The next voice I heard was the very gruff growl of Holman Witt, the duty officer, and all around stick in the mud.



"What kind of mess have you got yourself into now?"



"Oh just three bodies...in a bus terminal."



"And how many of them bodies am I concerned wit'?"



"Two, the cops have them...and me."



"What! How long have they had them? Who are they? Damn it, why'd you take so long to call me?"





I answered each question in order as briefly as possible. Then I waited in a holding cell for the cleaners to arrive. I walked out of the station house as the sun was coming up. My counsel was an Assistant United States Attorney; his name was Gibson.



He was still inside cleaning up my mess, but that's what he was paid for anyway.  The Federal government taking over this case, on account of the two "dangerous felons" involved. Truth be told, nobody knew who they were and only a few knew what they were. The locals pissed and moaned, but they really didn't need any more on their plates then they already had. So all of this was going to be swept under the carpet and forgot; in due time.



I looked around the parking lot for my ride. I spotted it pretty quick, a big black van with a satellite dish and a huge whip antenna. I walked over and banged on the side door. I slid it open and the debriefer told me to get in. It was Bishop Sanders; just great now I was going to get a sermon too.

II



I sat in the van looking at the old Wolver as he read his Bible. I was starting to go into slow burn mode, lack of sleep can do that to a man. I'd been up all night on stake out, got three kills.  Okay one wasn't a true tally, but he might have in a few days; if he would have survived. I just saved someone the trouble of coming back to finish the job. Hell that ole boy may have ripped that town up good before anyone would have responded to the incident reports; if they even got any.



The Bishop finally closed his bible. He took off his glasses and rubbed the twin dents on the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath then blew it out slowly. Here it comes; I thought to myself.



"Jones, Jones, Jones...Where do I begin. Young man when I was your age we did things different in the field,"...



I bit my tongue to keep from commenting, when he was my age he was driving a desk. The good Bishop had a short field career. Brief and bloody, he was a good wolver, but he grabbed a desk post as soon as he could. Some say he was burnt out, others say he was just an ass kissing lackey. The truth was somewhere in the middle, and I didn't give two shits because right now he was tap dancing on my last nerve.



"We followed procedures to insure public safety, that little escapade last night isn't good for what we're trying to do. Innocent people died and that poor Indian I heard he's been committed. You know that just isn't right Jones."



"Yeah I hear you, it ain't right.  If these two got on that bus more people would have died the way I see it."



"Jones they would have been the only ones on that bus the way I read it!"



He had a point, they were the only people at the terminal, but the bus would have other stops to make and there was the driver to think about also.



"Look that bus was going somewhere and people were going to die there, period!!" I slammed my hand on the radio console next to me.



The Bishop jumped up.



"Now look here..." he began.



Just then the van's sliding door noisily opened.



We both snapped around quick to see Gibson stepping up inside the van.



"Okay gentleman, we're good to go here. I smoothed it up as best we can from here, and took charge of the case. That should buy us some time to spin this the way we want to."



Gibson threw a heavy package on my lap. Inside was my wallet, gun, and the empty shell casings.



"The local don't think very highly of your methods Mr. Smith. The next time you’re in town they would appreciate your checking in with them before pursuing any felons in their town."



"No problem chief. " I winked at him as I got up to leave. Hell I had my heater back and was ready to get back after my primary.



"Whoa there, where you going...we aren’t done yet." The Bishop yelled. He kept me there another forty five minutes, he also gave me a plane ticket, and ordered me home for two weeks.



III





Sol White stood in a cluttered alley; choked with empty pallets, crates and over flowing trash dumpsters. He was there to lock up his club, the "White Rabbit"; a blatant rip off of a far more up scale Gentle Man's club famous for a rabbit.



He fumbled with the keys in the darkness; under his breath he cursed the prankster who broke the light over the door. The anticipation of what awaited him didn't steady his hands either; he lived for these times. Standing by his two door Benz was his date for the night Tootie watched him; but her eyes were not the only eyes that watched him.



Tootie didn't relish her task but she'd do it with the same faux enthusiasm she gave the club members, as she skillfully separated them from their money while wiggling on their laps. As she waited for Sol her phone began vibrating in her purse.



A quick check of the caller's number revealed that her live-in boyfriend was trying to get a hold of her; she turned off her phone. He'd understand, and if he didn't she'd boot his ass out of her place. She needed more hours and she knew how to get them from Sol.



In the brief moment she looked down at her phone, she heard a rapid scratching sound like a dog running on the blacktop. She looked up toward the sound and tried to scream.



The scream was trapped in her larynx as a powerful set of jaws crushed her throat as they clamped into her flesh. She was lifted off the ground effortlessly, and dangled by her neck in the slathering mouth while being carried off by the big dark figure that enveloped her.



Her hands pumped wildly hitting and clawing at her attacker. As she started to pass out from the lack of oxygen getting to her brain her last panicked thoughts were why was this guy wearing a fur coat under his clothes.



Once the final lock was secure Sol turn around talking to Tootie, as he expected her to still be standing by his car. "Okay doll let's get outta...Hey! Hey! Where'd you go? Tootie?



He looked up and down the length of the cluttered alley, scratching his head.



"Damn it she must have gotten scared." he told himself.



He could all but taste her young flesh. Oh he knew she was trying to get more days on the clock from him; he hadn't been in the exotic dance business for twenty years without knowing the mercenary ways of the performers.



His head snapped around quickly to look across the alley at the chain link fence that rattled as if being shook. He looked both ways quickly, to his right at the end of the alley he caught the glimpse of a large shape going over the top of the fence.



For several seconds he stared at the area where the shape had been.  He tried figure out what the shape was,  then he turned his attention back to finding the young women.  After walking up and down the Alley several times he gave up.



"Teasing little bitch." he mumbled to himself as he checked the lot the girls parked in and didn't see her car.



Of course how would he have known she had rode to work with one of the other dancers since she planned on getting a ride from Sol.



As he put the car in gear and drove out the alley; he punched a number on his speed dial. He started to whistle as he listened to the ringing on the other end of the connection.



"No sense wasting that Viagra I took." he told himself.



He never noticed the eyes on the other side of the fence that glowed from the reflected headlights of the car.



Briefly illuminated in the light the blood covered creature, bristled as it hunched protectively over its meal. When the intrusive light quickly left; it went back to the bone crunching and gnawing as it finished devouring Tootie...



The End