Free Werewolf Suspense (Book 3): Outage 3 (Vengeance) by T.W. Piperbrook Page A

sick of it."
    "Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do?" Frederick spat.
    "I'm going to pound your ugly head in," Sven said.
    Their eyes widened with rage. Sven's lips curled into a sneer.
    "Knock it off! Both of you!" Paul said.
    Sven spun to face the hall owner. "Mind your business, Paul! I've been listening to you order us around all night. I don't need your shit, either!"
    Paul's face grew stern. He turned the pistol in his hand, making sure the men saw it. "If you don't like it, leave my hall," he said. Without blinking, he pointed toward the barricade. "I'll open the door for you, if you'd like."
    Sven and Frederick grew silent. They stared at Paul for several seconds, seething. Then they backed away from each other. The creatures pounded on one of the vehicles outside, howling. The scream of another car alarm pierced the air, startling the group.  
    "I'm going to hold the other pistol until everyone cools off," Tom said.
    "Agreed," Paul concurred.  
    Sven and Frederick stalked to another corner of the room, shaking their heads.  
    Once they were out of earshot, Tom sighed. "I appreciate your help, Paul."
    "My pleasure. I've wanted to put them in their place all night. I understand the situation isn't ideal, but I'm sick of their attitude. They've spent more time fighting than trying to help."
    "It certainly seems like it," Tom said.
    "We're not going to survive by arguing."
    "Very true."
    Across the room, Sven and Frederick shook their heads angrily, but neither said a word.

Chapter Fourteen

    Listening to the beasts was like awaiting one's own funeral. The things growled and roared, smashing and breaking everything in the parking lot. Car alarms blared, windshields shattered, tires deflated. Even if Tom and the others could get outside, Tom had no doubt the beasts had destroyed every vehicle, every last chance at escape. Tom envisioned the station wagon in pieces, buried and scattered. As exaggerated as the image might be, he knew they were trapped.
    When he couldn't stand the racket, Tom crept over to check on Rosemary. She was huddled next to the counter by herself, keeping her distance from the angered Sven and Frederick. Her hands shook as she held her gun.
    "How're you holding up?" Tom asked.
    Rosemary looked at him with woeful, depressed eyes. "I can't believe what happened in the other room," she moaned. "I want to believe they made it out of here…"
    "There's a chance they did. It was hard to tell who was what out there, Rosemary. Just because you found Jeffrey's truck—"
    Rosemary lowered her eyes. "I should've listened to my intuition…"
    "We'll keep looking in the morning," Tom offered. "We'll find them."
    "If we make it to morning," Rosemary whispered, listening to the beasts outside. She clutched her stomach with grief. Tom squeezed her shoulder reassuringly and got to his feet.
    Tom strode to the back door to resume his watch.  
    On the way, he passed Sherry, who was still holed up underneath the counter. She bowed her head. She didn't meet his eyes. Without wanting to, Tom envisioned her face contorting and stretching, turning into one of the creatures. Her fried, frizzy hair could just as easily become a clump of fur. He shook off the image and blew an anxious breath. Sherry wouldn't be much help to anyone. If and when they got through this, she'd need psychiatric help.  
    We all will.
    He'd keep an eye on all of them.
    Outside, the beasts razed.
    Sven and Frederick eyed him warily. They'd each grabbed tools from the toolbox and were standing in the center of the room. Frederick clutched a claw hammer; Sven held a screwdriver in his meaty fist. Neither looked happy. Tom took a spot at the back door. He stared at the opposite end of the room, meeting Paul's gaze. The older man had agreed to guard the interior door. In the pale glow of the kitchen lights, his face looked ashen and weathered.
    The crashing from the parking lot continued. Tom pictured the creatures bathing in the entrails of those