This story is a collaboration between myself and author, HarryHill. This is just the beginning. I hope you enjoy it. Chapter two will be written, but please be patient. Thank you for reading.
Werewolves and Indians
Ja'Mal gave up counting cactus after the first thousand. The twisted countryside was so much different than the green hills of Tennessee; they were gone forever after being banished to this bleak countryside. He touched the bandage on his forehead. Damn Thaddeus, damn Susan, and damn the rest of the pack; and God bless mother, he thought, then looked across the seat at her.
"I'm sorry mom." Betty smiled at the apology that had been repeated for the last 2500 miles, reaching across to push back the dreads that had fallen over his face.
"It's alright, sweetie. You were tricked into an impossible situation. Bitches and sons of a bitches," she muttered under her breath. She moved uncomfortably in her seat, returning hand and face back to the business of driving and asked, "Do you want to drive awhile? My back is getting tired."
"Sure mom, it beats counting cactus. I need to go anyway." Betty pulled off the two lanes at a wide spot, got out and stretched while Jamal checked the straps holding his bike in the back of the pickup. Satisfied that it was secure, he walked out into the dark night to piss. He was just tucking in again when the battered pick up pulled behind their truck.
He did not see the man that got out, staggering drunkenly to where his mom waited for him inside the large truck. He was big, way over 6 feet, long greasy hair hung around the craggy profile that moved toward her, leaned in the window, and began to slur.
"Hello there, pretty lady, broke down? I haven't seen you in these parts before. What's a fine looking woman like you doing out here alone?" Betty fanned her face. The man reeked of bodily fluids and booze.
"Sir, I'm heading home with my son. Please leave before he comes back. I don't want any trouble." Betty explained politely to the gentleman as she fought to control her gag reflex. As a wolf, she was used to the smell of a natural male. She loved the strong masculine smell of a man, but his man was disgusting.
"Look, Bitch. I'm here to help you. Now be a good bitch, and get out of the car." He growled.
Betty looked around, Ja'Mal was nowhere to be seen, Where is he? she wondered. Looking at this big man in his inebriated states she knew she could defend herself. She was a wolf and he was human. She'd humor him for now.
"No, sir, I am not getting out of this car," Betty refused. He became even more aggressive, and demanding.
"Sweetheart, listen. I'm not leaving you stranded, so be a good girl and get out of the car." He demanded finally before snatching the door open and yanking her from the seat. Pulling her to the hood, he covered her body with his.
Betty fought, not using her true Were strength; she just wanted to stop him, not hurt him. Then, the strange man reached into a pocket on his shirt and took out a strange powder.
