Wolf of the Tesseract

Chapter 9

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod..." Claire's face sank into her hands while Jackie spun a sharp corner around the freeway exit.

"This is crazy!" Jackie yelled, agreeing with her. "I believe everything you've ever said after this. Fire demons and unicorns? I'm drinking the Kool-Aid, too! I'm seeing whatever you're seeing."

"Did you see the way that Vivian just started shooting at that thing?" Jackie paused as she mentally connected the dots. "Wait! Was the thing Rob?"

Claire nodded.

"I didn't even know Vivian had a gun!"

"Rob saved me the last time. He's the only one who's been trying to save me, all along."

"But hasn't he been terrorizing the wilderness and killing people and animals? Isn't lycanthropy some kind of occult curse?"

Claire shrugged. "I only know that he's saved me twice now from whatever that thing is, and Vivian tried to murder him for it... I think she and James might be trying to kill me. Or at the very least make everyone else think I'm a lunatic."

"But why?"

Shrugging, Claire barely managed, "I don't know." She caught sight of the amulet that hung from her neck. "It might have something to do with this? Rob said to never take it off. He said it helped protect me."

Jackie glanced at it. "Girl, you're involved in some weird juju." She cocked her head at something on the radio and turned up the volume. The signal crackled and a news report repeated itself.

An announcer read the emergency bulletin. "Claire Jones, local fiancée of Hollywood golden boy James Shianan is nowhere to be found. Witnesses report a violent, psychotic break with reality that sent her on a violent rampage which included arson and property damage. Any persons with knowledge of her whereabouts are urged to contact the authorities. She was last seen in a—"

Jackie flipped it off and pulled a hard U-turn. "I guess we're not going to my parents. Somebody, whoever is behind this, really has it in for you."

"Where can we go?" Claire shuddered, holding her head again, trying to blink back hot tears of anxiety. "God, I wish my father was here."

Jackie pulled into an alley behind a decaying building where she braked hard. "I just saw a patrol car. Let's wait here for a couple minutes."

Claire sobbed for a few quiet moments. The tension wore on her and she searched her brain for anywhere else she could go. "I think I know someone who can help."

. . .

James paced the floor of the old basement. Lavishly appointed, yet spacious, it used to be a raucous speak-easy owned by Al Capone in the prohibition era. A negative energy lingered in the place and so it served his purposes perfectly.

His phone vibrated insistently and he turned the screen over. A wicked smile crept across his face. The sounds of a skirmish echoed within the old subterranean access tunnel.

The distinct thudding sound of fists against flesh confirmed that his hit squad had returned with a struggling prisoner. James slid the heavy, steel door open and granted them access.

Dressed in black and heavily armed, the human mercenaries dragged into James's lair a noncompliant, hooded, bound, and gagged prisoner. The burly, mustachioed mercenary walked up to James; James handed him a sealed manila envelope stuffed with cash.

The man nodded with a grin and gave him the keys to the manacles which bound the skinny, writhing man. "Watch out for that one," he warned. He whistled to his crew of five and they slipped out the door.