Free Wolf Hunt by Jeff Strand Page B

swagger."
    "Shouldn't you be less pissed and more
grateful to be alive?" Lou asked.
    "I will never stop being pissed. He has now
created a 'lifetime of seeking vengeance' scenario."
    Ivan stopped at a small brown home. An
affordable, practical car was in the driveway, and the front yard
was littered with toys. Ivan shrugged--an exaggerated shrug,
obviously meant for them to see--and then walked up to the front
door.
    George's stomach sunk. "Aw, crap. He's really
going to do something." He hurriedly got out of the van.
    "You're going after him?" Lou asked.
    "Of course I'm going after him! Be
ready to drive away fast. If you hear sirens, get out of here and
don't worry about me. If I don't come out in a few minutes...I
don't know, you work it out."
    George ran toward the house as Ivan opened
the front door and stepped inside.

 
     
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER NINE
     
    Home Invasion
     
     
    George had always been prone to extreme
perspiration, but he couldn't remember ever having been this
drenched in sweat. He felt hot and sticky and miserable, he reeked
of gasoline, and lots of glass chunks were still stuck to his
clothes. The dog bite on his chest stung, and his wrist hurt even
worse, and overall this had been one spectacularly crappy day.
    He didn't anticipate that it
was going to get better in the next few minutes. Revenge or not, he
most definitely was not looking forward to going after Ivan without even the safety of
being in the van. But he'd be forever haunted if Ivan killed the
little kid who owned those toys because of his mistake.
    And he did have his gun. Not that bullets had
done any good thus far, but it still felt slightly reassuring to
have a weapon, even a useless one.
    Ivan had left the front door ajar.
George pulled it open and stepped inside. The house was messy but
not dirty. More toys, mostly action figures, were all over the
floor, and a television in the living room blared one of those
daytime courtroom shows that George hated in concept but that were
surprisingly addictive. The place smelled like air
freshener.
    A muffled scream.
    Gun raised, George ran through the dining
room into the kitchen. Ivan had his arm around a blonde in her
early thirties, his hand over her mouth and Lou's pistol pressed
against the side of her head. Ivan remained fully human, and looked
amused by her efforts to struggle.
    "Hey, George, look what I caught!" he said
with a smile.
    George pointed the gun at him. "Let her
go."
    "Sorry, doesn't scare me at all." Ivan
pulled Lou's gun away from the woman's head, removed his hand from
her mouth, then bashed her against the counter, hard. He yanked her
back to a standing position and put the gun to her head again.
"Stop squirming," he told her.
    She let out a sob.
" Don't hurt me ..."
    "Stop squirming or I'll smash you
against the counter until I break out every tooth in your
head."
    "C'mon, Ivan, let her go." George tried to
keep his voice calm and polite, like a hostage negotiator. "She had
nothing to do with this."
    "Well, that's part of the fun, isn't it?
Innocent people harmed? Collateral damage?" He backed up a few
steps, toward the refrigerator and another counter, dragging the
woman with him. "I hate guns. Guns are for thugs and cowards." He
tossed the gun onto the counter, slid a butcher knife out of a
wooden rack, and immediately pressed it against the woman's throat.
"Oh, yeah. Much better."
    "The cops are on their way," George said.
    "Excellent. Maybe I'll kill her and let them
find you here with her corpse."
    "So what do I need to do to get you to let
her go? Just tell me."
    "Hmmmmmm." Ivan pretended to consider
that. "I'm not sure. This is an interesting new side of you,
George. All concerned about innocent women and stuff. If I had time
I could probably come up with something, but at the moment, nah,
nothing springs to mind. I think I'm going to kill her."
    The woman's entire body shook as she
sobbed.
    "What's your name, sweetie?"
    "Diane."
    "Diane, huh? I don't see a