My plan, although not thought through and probably asinine, was simple. Stay in the parking lot of the place the werewolves worked. At some point or another, the alpha would come for me. That much I felt certain of.
Scarily enough, you didn’t need a license to purchase a gun in Wisconsin. To my dismay, all that was required was a background check. My ultra-liberal parents would have gone nuts had they known what I drove forty-five minutes to purchase this afternoon. Then they would have probably died of shock knowing I walked out of the store with a loaded weapon after spending barely a half hour there. The background check had been an easy enough process to pass. I had lived a vastly uninteresting life and had never gotten even a speeding ticket before. The gun now sat in my pocket, prepared and ready to go. The funny thing about this minor preparation was that I wasn’t really sure it would work. My phone buzzed as Simon started calling me. I hesitantly answered.
“Yeah?”
I didn’t bother with simple pleasantries.
“Why aren’t you home yet?” he demanded. He soon launched into a long-winded explanation of how we were running out of time. Now was the time to tell him. I had managed to evade his questioning for the last few hours, saying that I had things to do before we cornered the alpha.
“Because I’m not going home,” I finally admitted. My voice sounded as I felt: beyond tired, utterly exhausted.
“What do you mean you’re not going home?” Simon exploded in protest. “We spent all day revamping the house in preparation!”
“And then what?” I quietly rebutted. “Cross your fingers and hope that a net and a rusty old bear trap succeed in catching him?”
I was met with silence on the other end of the phone. I just mocked my little brother’s entire plan. I couldn’t find myself feeling too bad; not only was the plan very flawed, it was almost childish even. There was no guarantee it would work. My plan, although not entirely thought through, was simple enough. When I come across the alpha, shoot him in the head. Maybe I would get lucky and he would die. I was talented at shooting targets after being friends with two girls whose father had been in the army. Our sunny California Saturdays had been spent firing at cans at a shooting range. I was still friends with those girls on social media, so I made a mental reminder to thank them for the practice if I somehow managed to live through this night.
“Everly, just come home. We’ll think of something else.”
My brother sounded worried.
“If this doesn’t work, then we’ll do that.” My voice was dull.
“If what doesn’t work? Everly! What are you planning?”
“I’ll talk to you later, Simon…you’re the b-best little brother anyone could ever have.” I hung up the phone and then placed it on silent. Immediately, Simon began calling back. There was no point in picking up the phone; there was no guarantee I would be coming home tonight. As the harsh realization caused a few stray tears to fall from my eyes, a loud knock sounded on my window, startling me.
There shouldn’t be anyone here. The hotel was barely at five percent capacity. All major parking lots were cleared out. There was such a small percentage of hotel guests it would actually make more sense to shut down certain attractions rather than keep them open in the dead fall season.
As I looked out my window, surprise overtook me. There wasn’t a hotel guest, security guard, or member of the boy band outside by my window. Instead, Erik stood under the intense beam of the parking lot light, watching me with a glare. I gaped at my brother’s teenage friend, unable to understand why he was here of all places.
I was so startled by his sudden arrival I motioned him to move as I quickly exited my truck. His beat-up green Sentra idled just a few feet away. “What are you doing here?” I hissed in a whisper, my eyes darting to the employee parking lot across the vastly empty lot of the conference center.
“Looking for you,” said Erik unkindly, his beady eyes unblinking as he watched me.
“I don’t understand, how did you find me?”
“It really wasn’t hard trying to piece together where you would go,” said Erik dryly, still watching me strangely. “You’re becoming predictable.”
It was then that I noticed a very large crowbar was in his hands.
I didn’t know what to make of this sudden exchange. “You really need to go home, okay? I got this.” In one pocket, I had the revolver. In the other, I had a small squirt gun filled with holy water. It was filled and ready to go when I took it from Simon’s bedroom hours earlier. What was once a typical bedroom of a teenage boy with nothing but a bed, TV, gaming consoles, and bean bag chairs perched around it changed into a warrior’s den. Battle plans coated Simon’s desks and walls; he possessed bear traps, hooks, knives, and plenty of holy water. I couldn’t be sure whether holy water would work against werewolves, but it was worth a try.
“Is that so?” Erik challenged, sounding very unlike his usual self. I was so used to my brother’s best friend being shy and gawky in all the time I had known him. When he wasn’t showcasing these traits, one could typically find him snacking at our breakfast bar on leftovers or eating a random bag of chips. This sudden snark was unnerving and uncharacteristic. There was an edge to Erik, almost as if he silently knew something I didn’t.
Then it dawned on me. “You’re him,” I breathed, not figuring it out until just that moment. That was when the pieces started shifting together. That was how the alpha was always one step ahead of us, why he always seemed to be around even though we never saw him; he was right beside us all along. I fumbled to remove the gun from my pocket, but Erik was too quick for me.
When I went to grab it, he lunged forward to strike me with the crowbar. The harsh blow to my left side caused me to lose my breath and fall against my truck. All too easily, Erik stole my gun as I then fell to the hard ground, struggling to catch my breath. Removing my squirt gun from my pocket, I weakly started to squirt Erik’s face with it.
Any other situation, this would have been laughable. The holy water was useless against him.
Before I could even pull myself up, Erik gave me a harsh kick to the ribs. The impact caused me to crumple with pain on the hard ground. My head bounced off the pavement roughly. The side of my temple was now scraped and beyond bruised. It felt like there was blood.
“Life would be easier for you if I was dead, wouldn’t it?” demanded Erik before another harsh kick was delivered to my ribs. I spluttered a cough, agonizing pain ripping through my body. I didn’t know what to do. I knew I needed to fight, but I was outmatched. Overpowered. Erik was taller and stronger than me; there was no way I was going to win this. Mine and Simon’s only ally had in actuality never been an ally at all.
It seemed as though a small act of fate knew my thoughts, for a familiar sound occurred. A menacing snarl ripped through the dead silence of the empty parking lot.
I knew that sound; I knew that familiar growling. I knew the owner. Hope filled me. I lifted my head up to see Matt’s black truck idling a few feet behind Erik’s Sentra. He wasn’t dressed in his uniform; he wore jeans, a cream pullover, and ratty ball cap.
“What the hell are you doing?” he shouted at Erik before moving toward me.
That was the wrong thing to do. My revolver was used against me. Erik too easily undid the safety and fired at Matt. His having a background in hunting made this all too easy for him.