Werewolf Biker

Chapter Six: Afternoon, May 10th

About four thirty, Marcus sauntered out to the old shed, and grabbed a reciprocating saw from a large tool box. He put in a new blade, and stuck an extension cord out the window. Walking out
behind the shed, he said, "OK pal, time for you to disappear." He threw back the tarp, "What the hell?"
The body was gone. He looked around in a panic. Who would of moved the body, and where would
they have taken it? Looking down, he felt his heart stop. "Boot prints! He recognized the large
vibram markings and knew that they belonged to the man he had murdered! "Oh man, the guy wasn't
dead? How could he not have been dead, I put a .45 caliber bullet right into his brain!" Marcus started
to panic, he was looking frantically around, expecting to see the guy lying somewhere close by. "He
couldn't have gotten very far." He was staring at the spot where the body had lain, when a small object
caught his attention. He bent down and picked it up. It was a .45 cal slug, covered in blood.
He jerked around startled as he heard the roar of a motorcycle. Completely confused, and
dumbfounded, he ran to the gate, and looked out. "He's on the bike? How can he be on the bike?"
With his brain spinning furiously, Marcus convinced himself that he must be going insane. As he
stared in horror, the face covered in blood, turned and looked straight at him. Then it spoke to him!
"Catch you later Marcus."
Just as his head spun into blackness, he heard laughter, and saw Weylin flip him the bird, as he
roared out of the driveway.
Danny was relaxing in the bar, after the ride back. They had stashed all the drugs in the back
room, and would be cutting everything up soon. Danny heard the phone ring out front. Queeny
answered it, and was asking who it was, and having a difficult time making sense of the person on the
other end. Annoyed, Danny got up and went out front. "Who's on the phone?" he barked."
"I can't make heads or tails out this guy. But he wants to talk to you." She shrugged her
shoulders, and handed the phone to Danny.
He took the phone. "What?" He demanded. "Wh... Who the hell is this? Marcus? What?
Marcus! Calm down, and tell me what the hell is going on?" Hearing Marcus blubbering on the phone,
was disturbing to Danny, to say the least. Marcus was a guy who could shoot someone in the head, and then go out for pancakes. Here he was crying, and blubbering like a school boy.
"Danny! He just rode off! Bloody face... Just got on the bike and rode off! Not in the ditch, I
went out back, wasn't in the ditch! Not dead! How can he not be dead, Danny?" He was screaming
now, and had dropped the phone, Danny could hear him wandering the room ranting and raving."
Danny hung up the phone. He had a sick feeling in his gut. Turning to Nick, and Rob, he shook
his head. "Talk about loose ends, not only do I have a dead guy, now I've got a trigger man who's gone
off the deep end. Man, if somehow the cops get a hold of him like this, he will talk for sure. Once they
get him talking, he will never quit. He could bring down the whole business, and get our asses thrown
in prison for the rest of out worthless lives!"
"So, what do we do, Danny?" Nick asked.
"First off we gotta get these drugs cut up and out of here. If somehow the cops do lay their
hands on Marcus, they'll be here soon after. We gotta make sure they find nothing but a nice quiet
little pub. I'll go find Marcus tomorrow, and see what the Sam hell's going on with him."
It had been six hours since Danny had spoken to Marcus. He had no idea what he was ranting
about, but it had him worried. He had tried several times in vain to call him back, but no luck. What
did he mean the guy wasn't dead. He must have gotten a hold of some LSD or PCP or something.
Danny decided he would have to go back there tomorrow, and hope Marcus had come down off his bad
trip, or deal with it himself. If he had to clean up this thing, he wanted his money back.
Ten of the club members had arrived to help cut up the drugs, and get them ready to distribute to
their street dealers. Danny had closed the bar so they could work without interruption. They were
carefully checking the weights of the cocaine, and heroin when they heard a bike roll in. Danny
looked at the clock, it was 10:30. Everyone he had asked to come and help was already here. "Nick,
look outside and see who that is. If you don't know him, tell him the bar is closed." Nick got up, and went out to look. About a minute later, he came back inside, looking white as a sheet.
"Danny looked at him. "Well?"
Nick looked at him, and with his voice quivering, he said. "It's that dead guy's bike.... But no
one's out there."
"What?" Danny was pissed off. "I gave that bike to Marcus! Why would he come over here,
all the way from Santee? Nick, you and Robert come and help me get him inside before he attracts too
much attention. Damn! How'd he even ride a bike in his condition?"
They went outside, and walked over to the motorcycle. It was Weylin's bike alright. They
fanned out, and started to look for Marcus. Walking around the building, they were calling his name,
and looking out into the darkness outside the perimeter of the lights.
Suddenly, Nick shouted, "Hey, I found something." They all ran over there, and stood staring
dumbly at a pair of dark brown harness boots, size twelve and a half, triple E, with vibram soles, lying
on the ground next to a pair of jeans, and a bloody T-shirt.
As they were staring at the pile of clothes, Danny looked at the other two. "What the hell is
this!" he demanded. He was pissed off, and scared. Mostly scared.
"This is some weird twisted joke." Choked Rob. There was a movement in the brush outside of
the light. They all jumped and stared out into the darkness.
"No joke assholes. You boys owe a debt to a little girl." A deep voice almost a growl, came
from the darkness. "Now there's hell to pay...and I'm here to collect." A shadowed figure stepped out
from behind a tree. It was dark, but with the full moon, they could make out the figure of a naked man,
tall, and muscular.
Danny's eyes bulged out of his head, his mouth was dry and his knees were like water. The
other two felt the same. "W...Weylin? " He choked on his own words. His brain could not believe
what his eyes were telling him.
"Yes, Danny," the voice was even deeper now. "It's me. Since you pukes love violence,
murder, and bloodshed, I'll introduce you to a friend of mine."
As the three men stood petrified, they saw the shadowed figure jerk violently, they heard the popping and cracking of bones and joints. They stood horrified as the man began to grow larger,
heavier. They could see hair covering him, and the face. The face became elongated, and they could
see the massive set of teeth in the moon light, and the yellow eyes. The entire transformation only took
seconds. The beast that was just moments ago a man, was now four hundred pounds, and just over
seven feet tall. The sound that came from the massive head was a mixture of a wolf, and the scream of
a madman. The noise startled the men into motion. Danny ran for the back door, with Rob on his
heels. They turned and saw that Nick was still standing there like he was stupefied.
"NICK!" Danny yelled as the monster pounced. It covered the distance in one leap, and
landed directly on Nick. His screams were high pitched, and soul wrenching. The thing was tearing
him to pieces, gorging itself on his organs. Actually eating him alive. The creature shook his head
violently, growling, and ripping with both teeth, and claws. Blood, intestines, bits of ribs, and flesh
flew everywhere. What was left of Nick, still screamed, and struggled in vain to free himself. Then the
beast bit into the neck of the struggling man. It pulled it's head back, ripping out Nicks throat. There
was a spray of blood, as the screaming turned to a gurgling noise. Nick ceased struggling, his arms fell
still. The twitching of his fingers signaled the final efforts of his dying nervous system.
The werewolf turned, and looked at the men in the doorway. Its face now even more horrific,
covered in bloody gore, and stringy bits of flesh. Only the yellow eyes, and great white fangs were
visible beneath .
Danny, and Robert jumped inside the door, and locked it just as the werewolf slammed into it.
It's roar was so horrifying that the two men just fell to the floor, and began to half crawl, and half
scramble in a blind panic. They were screaming like mad men, when the others ran out of the back
room.
"Danny!" Chico yelled, "What in the living hell is going on out there?"
Mac, and Marty ran to help the two men, while the rest pulled their weapons and began looking about, not even knowing what they were looking for.
Danny was the first to speak. "Werewolf." He stammered,. "Weylin's alive, and we saw him
turn into a damned Werewolf! He killed Nick!" he covered his face with his hands. "Tore him to
pieces!"
No sooner had he spoke, when the lights went out, and plunged the whole place into darkness.
Everyone in the room fell silent, holding their breath, listening for any sound, and hearing only their
pounding hearts. The silence was shattered when the werewolf crashed through the door, and burst
into the room. The thing roared so loud, they couldn't tell where it was! It was moving so fast, that the
monster seemed to be everywhere, and the only light was the flash of the handguns as men fired
blindly in the dark. The sounds in the ensuing chaos were hideous. The air was filled with a demonic
chorus of screaming, running, guns firing, and smashing furniture, all mixed with the sickening sound
of ripping flesh and bones snapping, and above all that were the sounds of the werewolf in all his fury...
Hell had come to breakfast.
Then as quickly as it began, all was still. The stench of blood, and death hung heavy in the air
like a filthy haze. The monster, catching a new scent, walked over to the bar. Queeny had hidden
behind it, and was curled into a ball. The werewolf looked around the corner of the bar, and a low
growl rumbled from its throat. It moved slowly towards her. Her eyes were wide open staring at the
shape in the darkness, she didn't scream, she couldn't. Her eyes were open, but her mind was gone.
The werewolf sniffed her, then licked her face as if tasting her salty tears. Then it hopped over the bar,
and was gone.
At 22:57 a call came into the 911 dispatch center. The caller said that he heard shots being fired
at the Snake Pit bar. Roma, Mark, and members of the drug task force, and S.W.A.T. Team members
were just completing their plans for a raid on the bar, when Captain Neeley stuck his head in the door.
"Shots fired at the Snake Pit, get over there now!" The officers grabbed their gear, and
scrambled. No other information had been given, so they had no idea what to expect. When they got close, they set up a perimeter and began watching the place for any activity. The bar looked deserted,
except for some motorcycles in front. Away from those, stood one motorcycle parked separately from
the others.
"Well, I don't see any movement. They must be here somewhere, their bikes are still here."
Mark said. An officer with a hand held radio called in, "I can hear someone crying inside, sounds like
a woman." After determining the area was safe enough to proceed, the officers cautiously moved in to
contain the scene. Members of S.W.A.T. Went first, to make sure it was clear. They moved to the
back, and immediately found what was left of Nick. Mark, and Roma were called over. When Roma
saw the mangled remains, she turned and began puking. Mark just stood dumbfounded. "What in the
hell?"
Noticing the main power switch had been shut off, one of the officers reached up and turned on
the lights. Then with guns drawn, they entered through the smashed door.
No one, not even the combat veterans on the S.W.A.T. Team were prepared for the carnage that
lay before them. Steam was still rising off of the dead bodies. Some had limbs torn off, some were
decapitated. All the bodies were viciously mutilated. One of the younger officers slipped and fell on
the blood covered floor landing directly into the opened ribcage of some unidentifiable person. He
totally lost control of his emotions, and began screaming. Some one helped him up.
"Get him the hell out of here!" Mark yelled. Some of the policemen were vomiting, others
simply left the building. Roma looked inside, then turned and ran a few steps, before collapsing on the
ground weeping uncontrollably.
The ambulances began to arrive, but there was nothing for them to do, except begin treating
police officers for shock. No one had ever experienced anything like this slaughter. Mark had
somehow been able to keep his wits about him enough to call for the Captain. He then set up a five
hundred foot perimeter, with orders to keep any curious onlookers out, and especially the press, who
had started to arrive like vultures. "That's all we need, this getting out on the morning news." Mark thought, though he knew it was inevitable. "It's going to be a long night," he sighed.
Someone had found Queeny, still hunched up behind the bar, and had somehow gotten her
outside. One of the paramedics was checking her over. He could find no injuries, but she was
completely unresponsive to any questions. They loaded her into an ambulance, and Mark told Roma to
go with her to the hospital, and wait there until she was able to become coherent enough to shed some
light on this nightmare. Roma had regained most of her composure, and was glad for the opportunity
to get away from the scene from hell that was once the Snake pit bar.
Photographing, and collecting evidence was going to be a long and drawn out process. The
Captain had ordered all available Detectives to the scene, and they worked quickly to get the bodies
bagged and removed as quickly as possible. There were thirteen bodies in all, a back room full of
drugs, and a comatose female witness. There was none of the light joking conversation between the
officers that they usually use to defuse stressful situations. Everyone worked in almost complete
silence. Suddenly the roar of an animal cut through the early dawn like a knife. Everyone nearly
jumped out of their skin, then ran toward the sound, flash lights shining into the dark in vain. Nothing
was there. After a search of the area, they nervously returned to their prior activities. Now along with
being exhausted, they were all scared shitless.
Shortly after dawn, the last of the forensic people were finishing up, and loading their
equipment, when Mark, who by now was beyond exhausted, noticed that the motorcycle that had been
parked out away from the others was gone.
"Hey, who took that bike that was parked over there?" He yelled. People just shrugged their
shoulders, no one had seen anyone come for it, and no one heard it start up. "Well, I suppose it just
rode off by itself! What's the matter with you guys, the damn thing didn't just evaporate!" Mark had a
hunch that motorcycle would be a key piece of the puzzle to solving this chaotic mess. He rubbed his throbbing head, and swore. "And get those news people back behind the barrier!"
Roma had followed the ambulance to the Presbyterian Hospital. They arrived at around 23:40
hrs. She was surprised that she was even able to drive. Her head felt like it was about to explode, and
no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get the ghastly images of the dead men out of her head. She
had fought a constant urge to just stop the car and run away. There was something so unnatural about
these murders, that Roma felt as though an unspeakable evil had been responsible. She thought of the
woman lying in the ambulance she had followed, and knew that what ever she had witnessed, it was
more than any person should ever have to see. Judy Bench was working the night shift, and was at the
emergency room when Roma followed the paramedics as they wheeled the gurney through the door
with Queeny on board. An emergency room physician immediately began checking Queeny's vital
signs, and was asking Roma what had happened. She didn't even hear him.
"Detective Duffin?" The Doctor asked. Startled, Roma looked up at him. "Can you tell me
what has happened here?" Roma Duffin, an eleven year veteran Police officer, and a hardened
homicide Detective, looked up at the Doctor, and began sobbing. The Doctor asked Roma if she was
hurt, she shook her head no, but she could not talk.
He reached over, and felt her forehead. Her skin was cold and clammy, but sweating.
"Nurse Bench! The Doctor called out, "This Detective is in shock. Let's get her to room number two, and start treatment at once."
"Yes Doctor." Judy was in action immediately, getting Roma into a wheelchair, and rushing her
into the examination room.
them."
"What the hell happened here?" The Doctor asked one of the Paramedics.
"Some kind of massacre at some biker bar out on Lakeside." The Paramedic said.
"So, where are the other victims? Do we need to prepare for more patients? The Doctor asked.
"No Doc, the other victims are all at the morgue. All thirteen of them, at least whats left of them."
---------------------------------
Roma awoke with a start. She looked at her watch, it was 06:30. Cursing under her breath, she
looked for her jacket. She had to admit, she was feeling a little better. She was embarrassed about her
emotional breakdown in front of the Doctor, and the Paramedics, "Oh well, we all have our moments I
suppose." Judy walked in just as Roma was getting up.
doing."
"Hey, you're supposed to let me help you, it is my job you know." She said smiling.
"Yeah, I know, but I feel much better now, thanks. I wanted to go see how the woman is
"She's sleeping. But she keeps saying a name in her sleep over and over." Judy said.
"Really, what?"
She says Weylin, over and over. Then once in a while she'll add Hemming. Weylin Hemming.
Does that sound familiar? I don't think it's her boyfriend, because when they came into the Hospital a
few days ago, she was obviously with the guy named Danny."
"No, the name doesn't sound familiar to me. Could be anyone, a brother, or whatever." Roma
was still shaky, but didn't want to let on to Judy, she grabbed her jacket and turned to leave. "Hey,
thanks for everything Judy, and let me know the minute she's awake ok?"
"Sure thing Roma, and you really should go home and rest." Judy said, knowing full well she
wouldn't do it.
"I need to go back out to the scene, they've really got their hands full over there." She turned
and left the room.
About half way back to the Snake Pit, She radioed in to dispatch to inform them that she was headed over to be of assistance to the Detectives there.
"212, 213," it was Mark calling on the radio. "212 she said.
"I need you to meet me at the morgue."
"Roger, I'll be in route."
When Roma arrived at the City Morgue, Mark's car was already out front. She walked in with
a knot in her stomach. She didn't want to see the mangled bodies again, but maybe it would be better
with them cleaned up, and in a sterile environment. When she got downstairs to the autopsy room, and
saw what was inside, she realized it wouldn't be any easier. "Get a grip on yourself! You've seen
plenty of dead people before. Now knock it off!" She scolded herself. She took a deep breath, and
walked over to where Mark and the Doctor were examining one of the gruesome corpses.
"Well, what do you think he died of?" She joked, trying to bolster her own courage, and maybe
lighten the mood. Both Mark, and the Doctor turned and stared at her. After a couple of seconds, she
said, "Sorry, just trying to keep from going out of my head."
"Are you telling me that these men were killed by animals?" Mark asked the Coroner.
"Not Animals, I've examined all the bodies, and the wounds are all clearly made by one animal.
A very large creature by the measurement of these teeth marks, and the spread of the claw marks. The
depth of the wounds are unusually deep, and vicious. Animals kill for a reason. For food, or to defend
themselves. This animal was not killing for something to eat, or out of fear. It was killing in a frenzy,
like in a rage or, if you can say this about an animal, it was just murdering these people for the pure joy
of it."
"What kind of animal does that Doctor," Asked Roma.
"The only animal that kills for those reasons is a human being, but this was no human."
"Maybe," said Mark, It was a person acting like an animal. You know, blades attached to his
hands, and ..."
"No, that is impossible. The power it takes to rip a limb from a body is beyond human strength,
and the heads were simply bitten off. Not something a person could do no matter how demented he
was."
"So, what's going to happen when the media finds out that some man eating tiger, or lion or some other animal is loose and running wild in Los Angeles?" Roma gasped.
"What we have to do, is get that woman to tell us what the hell happened last night, and why
she's the only one who survived without a scratch! She had to have seen what happened. And above
all else, we give absolutely no comments to the press." Mark rubbed his eyes, and yawned. "Did you
get anything out of that woman?"
"No, she was out, Judy said she would call the minute she woke up. Wow, you look like shit,
why don't we both get some rest, then attack this thing in a few hours?" Roma suggested.
sleep."
"Yeah, good idea. Go home, have a drink, and get some shuteye. I'll call you in a few hours."
"Ok...Oh, I almost forgot, Judy said the girl kept saying the name Weylin Hemming, in her
"Aright, we'll check it out later." Mark mumbled, then turned and left.
At about 14:00 hrs., Roma got a call from the hospital. One of the nurses was calling to say that
the young lady they had brought in was awake. Roma called Mark, and woke him up. When she told
him the news, he wanted to get to the hospital at once.
"Mark," Roma said, "I think we should call Carter to go with us to interview her." Carter
Merkley was the Departments on call psychiatrist. His expertise was interviewing traumatized victims
of violent crime. He would be invaluable help. Mark agreed. They picked up Carter at his office, and
drove to the hospital.
Once in the room, they looked at Queeny. She had that frightened look on her face that they
had all seen before. Only this one was deeper. The Detectives stood at the end of the room, to give
Carter as much access as possible. He pulled up a chair beside her, and in his easy, soothing voice,
introduced himself, and asked her what her name was. Very timidly, she said,"They call me Queeny,
but my name is.. Alice, Alice Dixon."
"Do you know why you are here?" Asked Carter.
"No, I," She struggled to think. "don't know how I got here. Where's Danny? I need to see
him! She was beginning to panic. Dr. Carter handled her perfectly. He put his hand gently on hers,
and said, "Queeny, It's alright. I need you to focus on me right now, can you do that? Look here at me
and try to focus. It worked, she looked at him, and began to calm down. "Do you know where you
are?" He said.
"I'm in a hospital, but I don't know why. What's happened, is Danny alright?" Her stress level
began to rise again. "Where's Nick, and Rob?" They should be here!"
"Queeny." Carters voice was soothing yet commanding. "Listen to me, look at me!" She
calmed down and looked at him. "You have suffered a very traumatic event. Your mind is withholding
the events from you. You must try to think about last night. And try to remember anything you can.
"Last night?" I, Don't... Remember... I."
"You were at the Snake Pit, do you remember that?"
"The Snake Pit, Yes, we were at the Snake Pit..."
"Queeny, who is Weylin Hemming?" Mark asked. Carter shot him a death stare.
Queeny squinted like trying to remember. Then her eyes shot wide open in absolute terror.
"WHEYLIN HEMMING!" She was screaming hysterically. "WEYLIN HEMMING! HE
KILLED THEM! HE KILLED THEM ALL! Then she just began to wail and scream for Danny, and
scream and scream until a sedative finally put her to sleep.
Once outside the room, Carter turned to Mark, and shouted, "What the hell is the matter with
you? That woman has been through something her mind cannot even comprehend! She is fragile
enough without you stabbing your knife in, and slashing open the wound all over again!"
Mark looked Carter in the eye, and said, "I don't have time for lengthy therapy sessions, she was a witness, she knows what happened, and I guess I don't pussyfoot very well, when I'm investigating
the slaughter of thirteen people."
"Well, because she is so traumatized, I doubt she'll be of anymore use to you." Dr. Carter
Merkley turned and stormed down the hall.
Mark turned to Roma, "I don't think he understands how tough some of these biker chicks are.
Most have seen and experienced violence most of their lives. She'll talk, she'll have to. She's got no
where else to go. Those poor bastards were probably all the family she has."
Roma was pissed at Marks hard handed approach. "Well, getting anymore information out of
her is a done deal thanks to your lack of patience." Mark just smirked and shook his head, "Whatever,
if I wanted patients , I would have been a Doctor". Roma rolled her eyes at his dumb joke. "I'll try to
be more understanding when we talk to her later. Mark stated flatly. "In the meantime why don't you
find out what you can about this Weylin Hemming guy."
Back at the Police station, Roma had pretty much checked every possible angle on Weylin
Hemming. Both as actual names, and A.K.A.'s. No active warrants, no registered vehicles, no
address , no military record, nothing. She even took a wild shot on facebook There wasn't even anyone
with that name in that vast wasteland of cyberspace.
"You're not going to find the fellow you're looking for Detective." Roma looked up. Standing
in the doorway to the squad room stood a man, he looked maybe mid forties, about six foot two,
graying hair, he was handsome, very fit in his appearance, and had the look of a hunter or military type.
"Who said I was looking for someone? And, who are you anyway." She tried to look annoyed,
but found that she was just staring. "Wow, he's good looking for an older guy." She thought, then she
got up from her desk, and walked toward him. He met her about midway, and they shook hands.
"Hi, I'm Detective Duffin. What can I help you with?"
"My name is James Douglas Garrett, F.B.I.. He showed her his Identification People call me J.D. I know you are incredibly busy, so I'll just side step the pleasantries, and get right to it. There
were a number of men killed at a place called the Snake Pit last night correct?
"Roma frowned, she didn't know this guy, and didn't really feel like playing twenty questions
with him. "You must have heard the press conference earlier. So, like I said, what can I help you
with?"
"Can you tell me the name of the man you're trying to find?" He asked.
"Look," Roma said exasperated. She was tired, and feeling less than patient for any
unnecessary conversation, even if the guy was handsome. "We're in the middle of a homicide
investigation, and unless you have some pertinent information, I suggest you..." He interrupted her.
"I know the guy you're looking for."
"Oh you do?" At least this was something possibly useful. "Why do you need me to tell you his
name then?"
"I know the man, but his name changes like the seasons, I don't know what he calls himself
right now."
"You had better not be some sleazy reporter, or I'll arrest you for interfering with a homicide
investigation, do you understand that?
"I'm not a reporter." He said flatly. "Detective, did the victims appear to have been slaughtered
by an animal?"
Roma's jaw actually dropped open. She was stunned. "How did you know that, we haven't
released any of the details to anyone."
"Like I said, I know him, what does he call himself now, and I'll tell you how I know him."
Roma felt she was going out on a limb, giving information to someone she didn't know, But, she
decided to take a chance, and his I.D. looked real enough. "The name we have is Weylin Hemming.
Now tell me how the F.B.I. knew details about this case, that no one outside of our Department knew?."
An ironic smile crept across his face, and he chuckled slightly. He said, "Of course! That is the type of name he chooses lately. He knows I'm hunting him, and it gives him some sick pleasure to
taunt me with clues like that."
"Clues like what?" Roma asked. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Garrett's demeanor became deadly serious. "Hemming is a Scandinavian name derived from old Norse
Hemr, meaning "Shape." The name may have originated as a by-name for a shape shifter, or Werewolf.
Weylin means "Son of the Wolf." You're not looking for a man, Detective, you're looking for a
werewolf."
Roma suddenly felt nauseated, "Look Mr. Garrett, I don't know what your game is, but you
need to get the hell out of here, before I lock you up for a mental health evaluation" She turned her
back on him, and went back to her desk.
"You know what I'm saying is true, don't you. You saw what was left of those men. The moon
is full again tonight Detective Duffin, If I can find him in the daytime, I might be able to stop him.
After dark, there will be more killings, and there will be no stopping him."
"Mr. Garrett, you need to get back to Washington. You need medical attention. You must be off
your medication if you think I'm giving that bull shit any kind of credibility. What am I supposed to do
now, have the department issue everyone silver bullets?"
Garrett could see that his effort was wasted here, and he didn't have time to stand here and
debate with another stupid cop who wouldn't believe him unless they saw the beast themselves. He
gave it one more shot. "Consider this Detective Duffin, this creature is smart. The brain retains almost
all of the man's intelligence doubled with the cunning instinct of the animal. Did you notice anything
strangely intelligent about the attack? There is usually some evidence of it, at least from what I've
seen."
Roma closed her eyes tightly to try and force the images of the mangled bodies out of her mind.
"Listen, Mr Garrett, there was nothing that showed any human intelligence. Just lots of Blood, and
guts... suddenly a thought flashed through her mind, something she had totally forgotten about. A jolt of adrenaline shot through her body. She put her hand to her mouth.
"What? What did you remember?" Garrett asked. "
Catching her breath, she spoke with some excitement. "One of the officers told me he thought it was
strange that someone had pulled the switch on the main power box, turning off the lights inside the
building" . As belief suddenly flooded her brain, her voice dropped to a whisper. "An animal would
not have been able to do that." Roma felt sick, she was having trouble controlling her breathing. She
felt like she was about to have a full blown panic attack. The horrific images of mangled and bloodied
corpses flooded her head, "I... have... to tell.. Mar...." The room spun in a violent vortex and J.D.
Garrett caught her just before she hit the floor.
Shortly before dawn, Weylin had become himself again. He had hidden a couple of miles out
into the dessert, and after walking a short distance, he located a strip mall just outside of town. He
broke into the back of a clothing store, cleaned the gore off in the rest room, and got dressed. Then
crept up to the Snake Pit, and after creating a diversion with a loud roar, he kept in the shadows, and
crept past the police, quietly pushed his bike down the road for a quarter mile before starting it up, and
riding away.
He had an appointment with Marcus in Santee.
Agent Garrett, and some of the other Detectives in the squad room had gotten Roma to a small couch in
their break room, and she was just sitting up and getting her bearings when a call came in from Carter
Merkley, he was at the hospital. Roma took the phone, trying not to seem too rattled, she said, "This is
Duffin."
"Roma, are you alright? You sound pretty shaky."
"Well Carter, it's been a helluva day. What's up?"
"It's the girl in the hospital, Alice Dixon, you know, Queenie? Well, she's awake, and talkative.
But, I don't think she is rational. You need to get down here asap, and bring Detective Roberts with you, you'll both want to hear this." At that, he hung up the phone. Roma turned to some of the others,
"Anyone know where Mark is?" The question came out more like a demand, than a question, and
Roma felt a little of her strength, and usual confidence returning. It felt good.
Roma, J.D. Garrett, and Mark Roberts all arrived at the hospital at the same time. As they
hurried to meet Carter, Roma introduced Mark to Agent Garrett, but she didn't have time to tell him
what she had learned from him. Merkley met them in the hall, he was pacing, and very agitated.
"Detectives!" He looked questioningly at Garrett, who immediately stuck out his hand. "J.D. Garrett,
F.B.I." Carter shook his hand, and said, "Ms. Dixon has been telling me quite a story about this
Weylen Hemming fellow, I'm not sure what to make of it."
"Does she know that all the others are dead?" Mark asked.
"Yes, she knows, but I didn't tell her. She told me." Carter motioned for them to enter the room.
Queenie looked small, and thin, and childlike lying there in bed, she had been crying, and didn't try to
hide it from the Detectives.
"Hello Alice," said Carter, "can you tell these officers what you told me?" She looked at the
Detectives, and the brief look of the tough biker crossed her face. Then a sigh of resignation. She
squinted and said, "yes, I can tell them. For what it's worth." She paused, trying to collect her
thoughts. "I didn't see it." She said flatly, "The lights went out just before it broke down the door."
Mark interjected, "You said "it", don't you mean "him," Weylin Hemming?" Roma shot him a
warning glance, but Queenie just looked at him and said, "Yeah, whatever. It might have been him,
but it was no human." She paused, took a deep breath and continued. "Danny's dead, so I guess there's
no harm in telling you everything. First time any of us ever saw him, he came into the bar, and
completely kicked the shit out of seven or eight bikers. We all knew then that he was bad news. I just
thought Danny could handle it, nobody gets the best of Danny Bardo. Well anyways, The very next
day, the guy walks into the bar, like no big deal, and orders a beer. Danny goes out and talks to him, and invites the guy to ride with the club. I guess to try and get to know him a little. She paused, and
looked at the officers. "Am I going to go to jail for telling you anymore of this?"
"Were you directly involved with any criminal activities?" Roma asked.
"I don't know." She shook her head. "Maybe, look I just do what Danny tells me to do. I just drove the
van with the guns in it."
Roma looked at Mark. He shuffled his feet a little, then said. "If you tell us everything you know, I
can promise you immunity. We don't want you Alice, it's Weylin were looking for now."
"Now that Danny and the others are all dead you mean." She choked back a sob and then swallowed
hard. After composing herself, she continued. "Danny and some of the others who were at the bar,
killed a young girl, who was going to rat on him for some guns he was going to sell. He found out that
Weylin had seen them, so he had one of the Angels in Santee take him out." Mark held up his hand.
"Wait a minute, Danny had Weylin killed in Santee? He must of missed."
"I don't know, but I know that Danny took Weylin out back, and Marcus shot him in the head with a
.45. I didn't see it, but he told me. He always tells me.
Garrett interrupted her. "Who is Marcus?"
"Marcus is...She stopped, the last thing she wanted was for the Hells Angels to be on her ass for ratting
out one of their members. "Nobody." She said quietly, she wasn't going to go out on that limb."All I
know, is that later in the evening, a bike rolled up to the bar. Danny sent Nick out to check it out, he
comes back in and said it was Weylin's bike. So, Rob, and Danny, and Nick go to check it out. Next
thing I know, Danny and Rob run back in lock the door, and they're screaming about how Weylin tore
Nick to pieces. Then the lights go out, and all hell breaks loose." She pauses as her tortured mind
plays it all again. With tears rolling down her face, and her expression twisted with the pain of the
images, she sobs, "What came through the door was huge. It was dark, but I could smell it, feel it. It
moved so fast, the guys were shooting, and screaming! There was so much screaming!" She was
almost upright now, her hands in her hair frantically beating her head with her fists to drive the images out. Dr. Carter Merkley and the others took her by the arms, and as they held her, Carter gave her a
sedative. In a couple of minutes she was unconscious.
After they had all left the room, Mark turned to Roma, "We need to find someplace to talk." He looked
at Garrett, "I'm not sure why you're here. What's the F.B.I's interest in this?"
"I know your man." Garrett said. "Look, let's find a room we can talk in." They located an empty
conference room down the hall, and after they had all sat down, Mark turns to J.D., "O.K. Let's have
it." Roma sitting across from them suddenly realized she was biting her nails. "Shit." She thought, "I
haven't done that since Jr. High." She put her hands on her lap, and started biting her lip instead.
J.D. Put his briefcase on the table. Inside were some files which he removed. As he opened them, he
spoke. "These files date back to 1954. They are a collective of all deaths by large predators from then
until now, in the United States. Some are confirmed bear attacks, and a few cougars. More than you
would think are hunters getting trampled to death by moose, and other type animals, I have narrowed
the list to include only deaths involving devoured and mutilated remains. However, most of the
information here is listed as "Unknown animal" because no predators capable of causing this type of
mutilation exist anywhere near the location of the deaths. They are not classified as homicide, and so
they eventually get swept under the rug by local law enforcement. It has taken me six months to
compile the information that I am about to share with you. I was able to convince my superiors that
there was enough of a pattern, to justify our involvement." He handed photos of mutilated bodies, and
photographs taken at various locations to the two detectives.
Mark looked at them, and shrugged his shoulders. "What the hell does any of this have to do
with Weylin Hemming?"
Garrett was unruffled. "If you look at the photos, you will see that they date from 2006, to 1954. Also,
look at the notations, and the notes on the various pictures. You will see that an in depth analysis of the
wounds, bite marks, and claw marks, shows that the wounds on each person were caused by the same
animal." Mark looked up,
"You mean the same species of animal?"
"No, Detective Roberts, the same individual animal." The two men stared in silence for a
moment, then Garrett continued.
"Look at this photograph taken in 1959, it is a very clear picture of a paw print. No experts
could conclusively classify it. Only that is was very large, most likely some type of canine subspecies.
This, is a photograph of a paw print taken at a scene one year ago. Not only the same species, it is the
same animal." He laid the two next to each other. They were a perfect match. "I had this confirmed
by an expert, who compared the two prints, and certified them to be from the same animal. When I
told him the dates of the photos, he told me that was impossible. No canine lives fifty years.
"I don't think any predatory animal lives that long. Especially in the wild." Mark stated, then
looking at the pictures again, he shook his head. "Damn, these photos do look like the bodies we
recovered from the scene, don't they Roma?" Roma looked at them and cleared her throat.
"Yes, almost exactly."
"One more thing Detective," Garrett stated, "I confirmed the dates on the photographs. Each
and every one of them from 1954 to last night, all happened at night, and on a full moon."
Suddenly Mark pushed his chair back, and stood up.
"I can see where this is headed, You're trying to convince me that Weylin Hemming, is some
kind of a..a... werewolf! Right? That's it isn't it?" J.D. Garrett looked up,
"That's exactly what I'm telling you Detective, and more people will die tonight if we don't find
him, and stop him before dark." Mark threw his arms in the air,
"This is absolutely insane!" He looked at Roma, "Did you know about this? She shook her
head affirmative. "Do you believe this crap? What the hell it this, the freaking X-files?"
"Answer me this Mark," she said, "How would an animal think to reach up and shut off the
power to the building before entering." He stopped dead, and stared at the floor for several moments,
"I don't know," he said finally. "I've been tying to figure that one out all day." Garrett interrupted,
"Whether you believe me or not, we know for sure that Weylin Hemming is responsible for the
deaths at the Snake Pit bar last night. So, it seems to me that werewolf or not, we need to find him as
fast as possible."
"Well then, first thing we need to do, is go find this Marcus." Mark said. "We know that he
lives in Santee, and that he is a Hells Angel. Shouldn't be too difficult to locate. Probably on a first
name basis with the local Police."
"I'll get a hold of the Santee Police, see it they have any information on him." Roma said, as
they all got up to leave.
Weylin was taking his time traveling the one hundred and twenty five miles to Santee. He was
in no hurry, It was only noon, and he thought he might as well enjoy the scenery. He knew that he was
taking a risk staying in the same vicinity, but he felt safe enough, and his blood lust was satiated at least
for the moment. He wouldn't feel a strong urge to kill again, until closer to dark. He was staying off
the freeways, and just cruising south on the back streets.
Word had spread quickly to the other members of the Kings of Chaos. The surviving dozen or
so members had also heard that Danny and the others were dead. Todd, "Needle dick" Pincock, and a
couple of others had also been to see Queenie at the hospital. She had told them that Weylin had killed
the others, and stolen the drugs. She told them if they were men at all, they would find Weylin, before
the cops did, and kill him. They were a determined group when they left the hospital. Queenie didn't
tell them how the others were killed, she didn't mention the monster, and the bloody slaughter, or how
easy it was for the thing to rip thirteen people to shreds. She wanted a determined mob, not a group of
scared school boys. She closed her eyes, and hoped she wasn't sending them all to hell.
Weylin had just started to pass through Norwalk, when two bikers went by going the other way.
He looked in his mirror, saw the Kings of Chaos patch on the backs of the two men, and they saw him.
As they slowed to make the turn around, Weylin hit the throttle, and disappeared around a bend in the
road, a quick right up an alley, and into a small driveway between two buildings where he shut off the
motor, and listened. A few seconds went by before he heard the two bikes roar by. They would chase
the wind for a while, then by the time they figured out he had duped them, he would be long gone.
Weylin frowned. He was surprised that these bikers were already looking for him. He would have to
be careful not to get into a situation that could create a complication for him. But, he had been hunted
by professional hunters, these guys would be no problem. He decided the freeway was going to be the
best and most direct route, so he cruised east on Bloomfield Ave, then hung a left at Firestone Blvd. In
a few seconds he was on the I-5 southbound. This way, he could avoid bikers going the opposite
direction, and see anyone coming up behind him, or ahead of him. Traffic was moving well, should be
no problem.
Robby Jackson pulled over into the parking lot of the Methodist Church on the corner of San
Antonio, and Olive st. The other biker with him pulled up behind, and shut off his bike.
"Shit!" Robbie yelled. "Where the hell did he go?" Robbie was a big guy, six foot two, and
two hundred and forty pounds. He had a beer belly, and long greyish hair, with a full beard. His voice
was like gravel from years of smoking, and he had a slight limp from a bad accident years earlier. But
he also had arms like tree trunks, and the shoulders of a bull ox. "You see anything?"
"Had to have turned off back there, could be anywhere by now Rob." Dave was Robby's
younger brother by three years. He was smaller than his brother, but still at six foot, and two hundred
pounds, he wasn't afraid to mix it up, and he had a long scar on his face to prove it. "Better give
Needle a call, tell him it looks like the guy might be headed south. Tell him to call some of the guys
down there to keep their eyes peeled."
After they made the call, they pulled out onto San Antonio, and as they were passing the
Church, Rob suddenly pointed towards the freeway. Dave looked up, as a yellow heritage soft tail with
ape hangers, went by southbound. Rob, and Dave made a right hand turn right onto the freeway entrance. Weylin had seen them at the same moment they had spotted him, so he lit it up to try and put
some distance between them. He checked his mirror, they were behind him about a quarter mile, but
they were trying to close the gap. Weylin looked down. He was doing about 85 mph. much more, and
he would chance getting pulled over. He was almost certain there would be an A.T.L. (attempt to
locate) statewide by now, so he decided to just let these guys tail him. "What the hell," he smiled. A
little shiver of anticipation went up his spine. His beast was growing hungry. One would not be enough
anyway.
Roma, Mark, and F.B.I. Special Agent Garrett were headed to Santee. Roma had gotten some
good information from the detectives there. They knew that Marcus usually hung out at the residence
of Edward Tanner. Aka E Dawg. Both were members of the San Diego chapter of the Hells angels.
They kept their noses clean in Santee, no warrants, not even a traffic ticket. She got the address, and
thanked them for their time. "A couple of real boy scouts," she thought.
It was six o clock when Weylin rolled into Santee. He wasted no time heading out to the
residence of E-Dawg Tanner. About as far north on Magnolia ave as possible. The two other bikers
had followed him, and when he stopped, they hung back long enough to make a phone call. Weylin
shut off his bike, and pushed it the last hundred yards to the house. There he parked it just out of sight
of the driveway, and ducked behind the fence, following a small ditch to the back of the property. He
looked for any sign of his quarry. He could not see Marcus, but he could smell him. He was in the
house, but there was the scent of another man also. His muscles quivered with the excitement of the
upcoming hunt. The other two bikers had seen Weylen push the bike, and leave it behind the bush.
They rode up to the house, and parked in the driveway. As they were approaching the house, a car
pulled in behind them. Two men exited the house, one of them was armed. The officers exited the
vehicle with badges held high, and stood by the car.
"What do you want?" E-Dawg demanded.
"We're not here for anyone of you." Mark stated palms out.
"Do you have a warrant?"
"No, we ju..."
"Then you are trespassing, get off my property." E-Dawg snarled. He hated the cops, and knew
his rights.
"Please listen," Agent Garrett pleaded. "You're all in grave danger. Each of you, your lives are
in danger." The bikers looked at each other, expressions of concern and confusion on their faces.
"What the hell are you talking about? From who?"
"Have any of you seen this bike before?" Roma had backed out of the driveway, and pointed at
the bike parked behind the bush.
The bikers walked to the road where they could see, and Robby said,
"Yeah, we followed him here from Norwalk. We have business with the guy." Marcus looked
at the bike, and a look of horror crossed his face.
"That's him! That's his bike E-Dawg!" E-Dawg turned, and grabbed Marcus by the face.
"You shut up Marcus you hear me? Shut the hell up." Marcus turned white, but he shut his
mouth. Detective Roberts spoke.
"Look, the man on this bike, is responsible for the deaths of thirteen men in Torrence last night.
We are here to try and stop him before anyone else gets killed." E-Dawg puffed out his chest,
"We can take care of ourselves man, that guy shows his face, and he'll get a bullet in the head."
"Really?" J.D. Garrett asked. "Tell me Marcus, just how did that work out for you yesterday?"
Marcus looked as though he was going to puke. He put his hands over his face, and began mumbling.
"Not dead. How could he not be d.." E-Dawg punched Marcus hard on the jaw,
"I told you to shut the hell up!" Then he turned to the officers. "Look, you don't have a
warrant, get your asses off my property, NOW! Then he turned and stormed into the house, dragging
Marcus with him. The other bikers followed him. The officers looked grimly at each other, then got
into the car, and backed out onto the road way. Mark drove a short distance, then stopped the car. "What now?" he said. J.D. Shook his head,
"Those men will all die, if we can't find and stop Hemming before dark."
"Yeah," Mark said, looking at his watch. "18:40, we got about three hours till sundown." He
paused for a moment, then said, I'm going to call Captain Neeley, and get him to contact Santee P.D.
and the Sheriffs office. See if we can't get some men up here to sweep these hills behind the house.
He's got to be holed up back there, waiting for dark." Then he looked at Garrett, "Can they stop him?"
J.D. Shrugged his shoulders,
"If he's shot, like in the head, or heart, he will be incapacitated for a short time. But I doubt he
can be killed with a lead bullet." Garrett stated. Mark rubbed his hands through his hair, and shook his
head.
"This is too much. Don't tell me, silver bullets?"
"I'm no expert on werewolves Detective, the only thing I know to do, is follow the legends.
This is as close as I've gotten to this guy since I started chasing him. To be honest with you, I don't
know much more about the truth of it all than you do. Then he grinned. "But, I do have silver bullets."
Garrett took out a clip from his .45, and removed a couple of bullets. He handed one to each detective.
"Where the hell do you buy silver bullets?" Roma asked incredulously.
"Made em." Garrett said, "I reload ammo for my own use, so it wasn't too hard to get some pure
silver, melt it, and pour it into a mold to make my own bullets." Mark handed J.D. Garrett his bullet,
and got on the phone with Capt. Neeley. After explaining the plan, and the situation, (he left out the
small detail about the werewolf,) Neeley said he would make the arraignments. About a half hour later,
the San Diego County Sheriffs S.W.A.T. arrived, along with officers from the Santee City P.D. Special
response unit. Together with Mark, Roma, and Garrett, they set up a command post about a quarter
mile up the road from the house. Then they gathered around the S.W.A.T. Van where Garrett began to
lay out the plan. He looked at the group of police officers, dressed more like military special forces.
They were all younger than thirty five he guessed. And all of them looked muscular and fit. They carried specialized equipment, and arms, and moved with the smooth efficiency of a well trained team.
After they had settled around the small table, he stood, and addressed them.
"I want to be absolutely clear about this." He looked at the faces of the young men. "The man
we're looking for, is without a doubt the most dangerous individual, you will ever encounter, and I
know you all have encountered very dangerous people." He looked for a reaction from the group, there
was no chuckling, or rolling of eyes, just focused, attentive faces looking back at him. He was
impressed. "No prejudging, or overconfidence." He thought, then he continued. "His name is Waylin
Hemming. He gave them the vague description Queenie had given them. Six foot two, two hundred
twenty pounds, blond hair, blue eyes. "We will start behind the house, and work our way back toward
the foot hills. Be alert, and ready. Make no mistake gentlemen, If this man gets the slightest chance,
he will kill you. Any Questions?" An officer close to the front of the group spoke,
"What makes you think that he's not already five miles from here."
"Because his target is in the house. I believe that he will not leave without trying to accomplish
his objective." Garrett replied. A young officer with the look of a battle proven soldier spoke up.
"What's the background on this individual, what's his M.O., I mean, you make it sound like he's
a one man killing machine. Does he even have any weapons?"
"We don't know much about him, other than he has been killing people for a long time." Garrett
sighed, and shook his head. He didn't know how to make these brave men realize what they were
going up against. Then Mark spoke up,
"Last night, this man killed thirteen armed members of a motorcycle club in a bar in Torrence.
They weren't shot," he looked down, and his lip quivered, "they were..." he shifted his feet, and tried to
find the words. "They were torn limb from limb. They were ripped apart like they were attacked by
ferocious animals. Somehow, this Hemming is responsible for the massacre of those men." A voice in
the middle of the group said,
"Hell, sounds like we aught to just call in an airstrike, and nuke the whole area." The remark broke the tension, and the men all chuckled. One of them looked at Roma,
"You okay. Detective?" She was pale, and trying to clear her mind of the horror of last night,
she looked at him and smiled,
"No, I'm scared shitless, how about you?" As the group began to get up, a voice yelled,
"Let's go get this asshole!" Mark gave out one last order.
"One more thing. Meet back here before dark, I want this entire party back here before twenty
one hundred." He looked at the S.W.A.T. Commander and nodded. The Commander barked,
"MOVE OUT!"
Crouched behind a cluster of small trees, and tall grass, Weylin watched the group of policemen
as they fanned out behind E-Dawgs house. It was getting more difficult for him to keep his focus on
the man he was here for. He did not want to kill these men, but the monster inside him would not
discriminate between the man he wanted, and the police officers. If they were between him and his
prey, he would kill them, and tear their bodies to shreds for the sheer ecstasy of it. A low growl
rumbled deep in his chest. It was late afternoon, the beast was straining to get free. He had always
been careful when he hunted, he knew that certain kinds of prey were missed less by society, and thus
interest waned before investigations were completed, and soon thoughts of him passed into the
nightmares of those who had seen his work. If he killed these policemen, they would never stop
hunting him. He noticed that he had gone color blind. First stage. The change would come early
tonight.
Weylin moved easily in the overgrowth, and moved back further towards the foot hills. He
would try and lead the cops far enough away, that he could circle around, and kill his prey before they
could return. The group of policemen were about four hundred yards from the house, when Weylin
stood out into the open. One of the officers saw him, and hollered out to the others. Weylin waited
until they were closing the gap, then he ducked and moved back. When the cops got to where he had
been, they immediately picked up his trail, and moving in a tactical fashion they fanned out. They moved quietly, but swiftly. Many of these men had come from military backgrounds, and were battle
proven. They communicated with hand signals, and moved as one. Weylin watched, and was
impressed at their efficiency. His mouth watered. "Too early for this." He thought, then he looked
instinctively to the east, and saw the orange glow of the full moon rising. He knew that the full moon
rises as the sun sets. Often, when facing his quarry, or being hunted, the beast within him would strain
to be unleashed. That would explain why he was feeling the effects while it was still light. He also
knew that he would change as soon as the sun went down. He again showed himself to the men. They
altered their course to intercept him.
J.D. Garrett looked at his watch. 8:15. He had gone with the others to hunt Weylin. The
commander had objected, but didn't try and stop him. J.D. knew that if one of the team shot Hemming,
he would go to the spot, and put a load of silver bullets in him. He knew that he would never be able to
prove why he did it, and it would most likely be the end of his career, maybe even jail. But, more
people would die if he didn't, and he had decided that if he could, he would stop him at all cost.
J.D. Had fallen behind slightly, he wasn't in the condition that these younger officers were, but
he was holding his own pretty good.
"How ya doin Agent Garrett?" One of the officers grinned at him. "Lookin a little red faced."
"Don't worry about me mister," Garrett said, "just stay focused."
"Like a laser." The officer said smiling.
Off to the right of the group, someone shouted. "OVER HERE!" Garrett, and several others ran over to
the sound of the voice. When they arrived, most of the group had joined them. The man who had
hollered pointed at a pile of clothing on the ground. "Guess were looking for a naked guy now." They
looked at each other. "What the hell is this guy thinking?" Said another. The team leader, Lieutenant
Sanders, relayed the information to the base, via two way radio, and advised them of the current
situation. Just as he finished his communication, one of the team members pointed. "There!" They
crouched down, and looked into the lengthening shadows. About fifty yards away, stood Weylin. Stark naked, and staring back at them.
"DON'T MOVE!" Sanders yelled. Weylin disappeared. Sanders rapidly motioned right and
left, for his men to flank the suspect on both sides, then they moved quickly forward.
J.D. Looked up, and saw the moon full in the evening sky. Then he turned and looked at the sun
sinking into the horizon to the west. In an instant, he realized what was going to happen. He ran as
fast as he could to catch up to the L.T. He quickly caught up to Lieutenant Sanders.
"Lieutenant," he said, breathing heavily from the exertion. "We need to call off this search, and
focus our manpower on the house."
"What?" Sanders looked at him sternly. "Why?"
"Your men are in grave danger out here." He knew he sounded crazy, but he had to warn them.
"They will be killed if we stay out here after dark."
"Bullshit." The lieutenant stopped and stared straight into J.D.'s eyes. "My men are fully
trained for night searches, and we have the suspect boxed in, we've had eyes on him twice. He will be
in our custody within minutes. Do you really think I would call them off now?" He turned to move
out, when Garrett grabbed him by the shoulder.
"Lieutenant..." Sanders spun on him, and instantly had him pinned against a tree.
"Listen you son of a bitch," he growled. "I am ordering you to go back to the base, and wait for
us there." His eyes narrowed, "Now get out of here and let us do our job."
At that moment, they heard it, a mixture of man, and beast, madness, and rage. It was the
howling that always followed the transformation. There was nothing like it anywhere in nature, and it
turned the blood of all who heard into ice water. It was followed by a rifle shot, and a scream.
Lieutenant Sanders stopped dead dead in his tracks, his hair standing on the back of his head.
"What in hell fire?"
Weylin had realized that he would not be able to circle around these men. They were faster than he had anticipated, and had gotten him boxed in. They didn't know his exact location, but they were
closing in. They would be on him in a few minutes, and it was getting darker by the second. The
transformation that would free him, and destroy them was upon him. The sun had just set, and like he
had done over a thousand times before, his body began it's hideous bone snapping transformation into
the magnificent, maleficent beast that was the werewolf.
The first officer to catch sight of Weylin, had instinctively crouched into a defensive shooting
position. He had just established a clear shot, and was about to shout a command, when he saw the
man jerk violently. At first he thought someone had shot him, but he heard no rifle report. Then as he
looked through the night vision scope of his rifle, he witnessed something no man has seen before, and
lived to tell it. Before he could draw a breath, the monster looked directly at him, his eyes bright
glowing embers in the night scope. He pulled the trigger, but the howl startled him enough, that his
shot went wide. Before he could reestablish his view in the scope, the thing was on him. Other
officers had seen the attack, and opened fire. The beast was gone in the blink of an eye, only to appear
again out of nowhere, and knock another deputy off his feet, slamming his body into a tree. He fell to
the ground, several bones obviously broken, he did not move. As the remaining officers scrambled to
assist those that were down, more were attacked, and discipline disappeared, replaced by
pandemonium. Shots were fired at shadows, and men were shouting, some were screaming, and the
hideous roaring of the werewolf filled the air and froze the blood of all who heard it. Lieutenant
Sanders, and Agent Garrett ran into the fray. Sanders bellowed like a bull.
"HOLD YOUR FIRE! CEASE FIRE!" The firing stopped, and as the gunshots echoed away
into the night, the darkness became deathly still. One of the officers called out,
"It broke through our line, and headed down the hill toward the house like a streak of
lightning." Garrett turned white,
"Roma, and Mark are down there." Then he took off on a dead run. Sanders yelled,
"You four go with him!"
E-Dawg Tanner, and the others in the house, had been watching the group of officers until they
disappeared in the distance. His property ended a few feet behind the back fence of the house, so they
drank beer, and cursed the cops, and told stories of how mistreated they had been at the hands of law
enforcement, and the court system. With pistols tucked inside their pants, they felt confident they
could handle things just fine, just like they always did, after all, they had been in scrapes including
gunfights. They had seen plenty of blood and trouble. No one messed with them.
Just after dark, they heard shots fired off in the distance towards the foothills. They went out
into the backyard, and looked out over the fence towards the sound
"Well, sounds like they got him." Robby stated. "Too bad, should have been ours to deal with."
"What the hell," Dave said, "dead is dead." Marcus looked up at Dave.
"Not necessarily." He looked down, and ran his fingers through his hair. A shudder ran through
him, as he remembered the bloodied face and horrible grin on Weylin's face as he rode out of the
driveway.
"What's that supposed to mean Marcus?" Dave scowled. E-Dawg spoke,
"Marcus says he shot the guy point blank in the head, and couple of hours later, the dead guy
got on his bike and left." E-Dawg was grinning, "Doesn't want to admit that he missed." Marcus, still
looking down, said in a voice barely above a whisper,
"I didn't miss."
E-Dawg just shook his head, and was about to make a remark, when to everyone's surprise they
heard a loud snarl and E-Dawg was jerked off his feet, and disappeared behind a large bush next to the
fence. The bush shook so violently that the leaves were flying everywhere. The roaring and snarling
mixed hideously with the sounds of ripping flesh, and breaking bones. There was the attempt of a
human scream which turned to a gurgling sound. Then all was silent. The men stood dumbfounded.
Dave freaked out, "What was that?" He screamed. "What the living hell was that!?" Rob fired six rounds from
his pistol at the bush, then waved his hand,
"Shut up, all of you! Then he approached the bush cautiously, with his gun aimed towards it.
The others stood back staring, guns ready to fire at the unknown assailant. Rob leaned forward to peer
into the bush, "E-Dawg?" They heard a low growl followed by a roar, and a savage movement too
quick to see, struck out. Rob jerked violently. The others jumped back startled, "What is it Rob?"
Dave said. Rob backed away a couple of steps, then turned around slowly. His face was nearly
completely missing. He was ripped open from his forehead to his belt buckle by four parallel
lacerations. He attempted to speak, but he had no mouth. His tongue, and lower jaw were mostly
down near his chest. Several teeth were visible in the gore. As his intestines belched forth onto the
ground, he sagged to his knees, and a soul wrenching cry of anguish erupted with a spray of blood from
where his mouth had been, then he fell on his face, and was dead. Dave screamed in fear, and rage.
"ROBBIE!!" He ran towards his brother firing his pistol into the bush as he ran. The werewolf
charged out of hiding, and landed on the rushing man with all four feet, slamming him hard to the
ground. With a vicious growl, he simply took Dave's head in his mouth, and crushed it like a grape.
Then it turned and looked at Marcus.
A werewolf knows only hate, and rage. All of it's power is based on these two emotions, and
Marcus, the man who had shot him from ambush, had earned the full fury. All of the hatred that drives
a monster like this, was focused on this one sniveling man. Just because Marcus could kill in cold
blood did not mean that he was brave, and so, he met his death just like the coward that he was. On his
knees, and screaming like a girl. When the bodies of the four were processed, there would be one so
mangled, so mutilated, that the only form of identification possible, would be DNA samples from what
tissue was left... That would be Marcus.
From the base, Roma, and Mark, had heard the gunshots from the house.
"Stay here by the radio," he told the base commander. "C'mon Roma, let's go check this out."
They jumped into their car, and took off for the house. Mark had taken a portable two way with the
S.W.A.T. Frequency, and as he sped towards the house, the radio crackled.
"Team to base, we have multiple men down. Repeat, multiple men down." The two detectives
looked at each other. Roma gasped, "Not again."
Lieutenant Sanders assembled what was left of his men, and radioed the base to dispatch the life
flight, and some ambulances to his location. He informed the base commander, that he had six men
down, all of them had serious injuries, but they were still alive.
"Thank God for that," Roma whispered, as they listened on the radio.
J.D. Garrett, and the officers with him heard the pistol shots, and the yelling and screaming
from the house. They were about a hundred yards away, and J.D. knew that they would not get there
before Mark and Roma. Although his lungs were bursting, he cursed, and pressed harder.
"Go!" he yelled to the men with him. "Hurry, the detectives are in danger!" The younger men
quickened their pace, and passed him.
Mark slid the car to a stop, and they jumped out. They both stood for a moment, and listened.
Nothing. They began a cautious approach toward the entrance of the drive way, when the fence
surrounding the back of the property exploded in a shower of smashed lumber. The werewolf had just
crashed through the fence, and was running directly towards them. Mark was amazed at the sheer size,
and incredible speed of the creature. In less than a second the beast was upon them, then instead of
tearing them to pieces it stopped, and in the light of the street lamp, stood and stared at their horrified
faces. They saw what could only be described as hell itself. The yellow eyes, and three inch fangs
were all that were visible beneath the matted fur of the beast, dripping with the blood, and gore of it's
victims. On all fours, it was nearly as tall as Roma. What fur they could see was thick, and black as
coal, and the huge quivering muscles spoke of inexhaustible strength and energy. Then, lowering it's massive head towards them, sniffed the air taking in their scent. It looked at them without blinking,
and they, frozen with fear, looked down, afraid to look it in the eyes. They did not dare even draw a
breath, much less draw their weapons. Suddenly it's eyes narrowed, and it's pointed ears laid back
tight to it's head. It looked up toward the back of the house, and a low menacing growl rolled from it's
throat, standing up onto its back feet, the monster stretched to it's full height, and howled! Roma and
Mark both jumped at the sound. The terrifying noise was still ringing in Roma's ears, even after the
beast had disappeared into the night. It was only then, that she realized that it was her own hysterical
screaming that she heard.
Just before dawn the next day, Weylin stole back to the wooded area of the attack, and found his
clothes right where he had left them. He figured that in the confusion, the clothes would be forgotten.
Then as stealthy as well, as a werewolf, he crept up to the house. His bike was still parked where he
left it, and the forensic officers at the scene were still busy in the backyard. Mark, Roma, and J.D. Had
left shortly after the murders. They drove back to Torrence in absolute silence. As if not speaking about
what they had wittnessed, would allow them to stay in a state of denial a little longer. Santee Police
had informed them that they had it under control, and would contact them the next day for statements.
The S.W.A.T. team was long gone, and the cops at the scene were too preoccupied to notice a guy
pushing a bike down the road in the wee early morning hours.
Weylin grinned from ear to ear, "Man, what a great hunt!"