The Pack

The brakes of the truck squealed as it pulled into the rest stop. The enormous engine was shut down instantly rendering the night a few notches quieter. Pete opened the door and slid down and out of the cab his hefty belly shaking when his feet hit the ground. Waddling over towards the washrooms Pete had no clue that he was being watched by a predator more cunning and vicious than anything he could imagine. As Pete entered the washroom Matt Riley stepped out from the shadows to follow him. He wore a pair of extremely worn camouflage pants with a dark brown t-shirt and combat boots. As Matt moved in behind the oblivious trucker another creature in the shadow moved. This one remained hidden from sight and when it saw what Matt was doing it bolted off in the opposite direction of the rest stop towards a small park area behind it.



Matt entered the dimly lit washroom and sniffed. Among the sea of horrid scents Matt found the scent of the trucker and walked towards it. His combat boots made a clipped sound upon the dirty tile and when they stopped in front of the stall that Pete was in Matt heard the slight inhalation of air that indicated surprise. A wicked grin crept across Matt's thin lips. The scent of fear and sweat and adrenaline, the scent of the hunt. It was intoxicating to him so that he stood and relished it for a moment. In an explosion of motion Matt kicked the door open so hard that it came off it's hinges and hit Pete in the face. Blood splattered out from his nose as he cried out, "What the fuck man?!" Matt stared at the bleeding man with his pants around his ankles. He wasn't intimidating off hand, he was thin and wiry. His face was covered in lines and several days growth. His hair was long and dirty blond falling in a dirty mess of a ponytail behind his head. When the thick claws slid out from his fingers it was another story completely. Pete began to scream incoherently, he scrambled for some way to get away from this thing that stood in front of him. Matt simply snarled and lashed out with the claws, slicing deep into Pete's face.



The blow caused Pete to fall awkwardly onto the floor of the stall. Still scrambling to get up and away his hands slipped in the growing puddle of his own blood. From behind him, Matt grabbed the back of his shirt and tossed him like a rag doll into the opposite wall. The wall crumbled slightly from the impact and Pete fell to the ground in a lump. Focusing on his hearing Matt could hear the fat man's heartbeat telling him he wasn't dead. Not yet anyway. He was disappointed, this was no hunt. This was nothing more than play to him. Taking a moment to recover himself the thick claws slid back into his fingers. The night was completely silent once again until he started to walk back to the door with the clipping of his boots echoing in the washroom. He opened the door and let out a loud whistle then waited.



Moments later shadows began to shift as Matt's pack arrived. Alerted by Sully of their impending feast they were waiting just out of sight from the rest stop. Three figures emerged apparently from nowhere. Sully, the one who was watching Matt earlier, was tall and lean. He had the build of someone who had worked hard all of his life. He wore a simple pair of black jeans with riding boots along with a layered long sleeve t-shirt. A pair of black riding glasses hid his eyes. The next to emerge was a young looking man who was built like a wall. His blue jeans more readily showed the wear and tear they had seen and a tank top accentuated the well developed muscle of his upper body. Finally a Mexican or Native American looking man emerged. His jet black hair hung to the middle of his back and he wore simple jeans with a plaid flannel shirt. They would appear to be an odd combination of individuals but they were a pack and were bound to each other in a way none could understand.



They stood in front of the doorway where Matt stood. "He's a plump one, plenty to go around." His voice sounded like he had eaten hot coals and permanently damaged his throat. He looked into Sully's eyes first then nodded. Then to Earl and Robert the same thing before he stepped aside. Matt's dominance of the pack was unquestioned. The only reason they were allowed to eat first was that he had allowed it with his nod. The leader of the pack had the right to demand first pick of anything; food, clothes, women or sleeping quarters. By deferring to his packmates Matt showed his strength in not needing to hurry to feed. The others filed into the washroom and surrounded the lump that was Pete. Sully had first choice in where to feed from, he was Matt's second. Technically Sully was older but Matt was stronger and a more capable leader. Sully kicked Pete's shoulder so that his body rolled over onto his back. Crouching down he grabbed hold of Pete's collar and pulled him up to his face. Sully sniffed once to take in the scent but it was not something he cared for. Like Matt he preferred the hunt and a worthy hunt moreso. He let his sharp fangs slip down and leaned in even closer to Pete's neck. The long needle sharp fangs sunk easily into Pete's flesh opening the big vein in his neck. Once Sully began to feed from him Earl and Robert tore into Pete's wrists.



Within moments Pete was dead, drained completely of blood. When the three rose from their feast Matt stepped back into the washroom. "Bobby, take this out into the woods. Make it look natural. Earl, check the truck. Sully," Matt simply nodded to Sully, "Keep an eye out." They needed no ceremony or clarifications, they each went to their respective tasks without a word. Robert would take Pete's body out deep into the woods and slash at it wildly with his claws so it would look like an animal attack. Odds were good that the rest of Pete would in fact be devoured by wild animals before anyone would miss him. Earl had been a truck driver before his change so it was his task to check the manifest for the truck and see where it was supposed to go and what it was carrying. Sometimes they lucked out and happened upon a truck loaded with something valuable. Sully had his own transportation, an old Harley that he had rebuilt himself with Robert's help. He would go swiftly back into town to retrieve it and meet back up with the pack before dawn. Both he and Matt would patrol the area looking for anyone that might question the scene.