Before too much longer Gerald slowed to a walk, then turned back into his human form. He began unbuckling the backpack, something made a bit more awkward by the strap on the back. Cody remained shifted, so Rick followed suit. After another moment Gerald had fully removed the pack, which he stored between a dense bush and a tree.

“Good for bringin’ stuff out in the wild, probably not so good to be wearing in a fight,” he said, once more dropping into his bear form. The cracking of bones was a sound that Rick was accustomed to, although his time away from his clan had meant that he rarely heard it from other shifters these days.

Rick could see what he meant. Those straps would provide an easy way for a wolf to get a grip on Gerald, and in a situation where there were likely to be more wolves than bears that would be a problem.

They loped off again. The scent of wolves was all over this area of the forest, so Rick was sure they were getting close. He had let Gerald lead, knowing that he had been in the area for longer. Rick himself had never been in this section of the forest, having wanted to steer well clear of the wolf pack.

They should have done the same and steered clear of me.

Soon Rick could make out the outlines of a building just past the tree line ahead. The building itself looked rundown, at least from what he could see at this distance.

How to get in? They couldn’t just charge in through the front door, unless they shifted back to human form then back to bear again after entering. That would be dangerous, though. Their bear forms afforded much more protection against small caliber weapons, something he figured the wolves might have at least a few of.

Gerald, apparently sensing what he was thinking, nudged him and motioned with his head to the left side of the building. He set off, slower now, and Rick followed. If he knew how to do this then Rick wasn’t going to argue with him. Cody brought up the rear, head swiveling from side to side.

They left the trees just behind the building itself. Rick could hear loud music from inside the building, but something about it sounded off. After a moments thought, he realized that it sounded like there was a large door open on the front of the building.

A big garage, maybe? It made sense, as the pack advertised itself to the world as a biker club. Where else would they work on their bikes?

Rick took the lead now, peaking around the edge of the building before setting off around the side. The building was fairly large, and he picked up speed as he neared the front of the building. The music was getting louder now, and he could hear the sound of men talking inside. If they had been paying attention at all their shifter senses would have alerted them to the presence of the three bears, but Rick didn’t hear anything from inside to indicate they had been found out.

He took the corner wide and was in front of the building now. As he had suspected, there was a large three bay garage on that side of the building. All the doors were currently open, and shifters of various description, though all with the same rangy look, occupied large parts of the garage drinking beer and talking jovially.

They didn’t remain jovial for long once Rick turned the corner. The garage was instantly filled with shouts and the sound of breaking glass as a few of the wolves dropped the bottles they had been holding, shards and sprays of beer flying around wildly. Rick charged at the closest group of men, not wanting to give them any time to recover from their shock.

The group scattered at his approach, a swipe from one of Rick’s big paws sending one sprawling with a large gash on his arm. Gerald and Cody were also in the garage now, sending another small pack of shifters scrambling away from them. Cody let out a roar as they ran, not the typical roar a bear would give to intimidate something else, but a full throated expression of fury.

The garage itself was huge, at least fifty feet wide and eighty feet deep, although it seemed a lot smaller when crowded by three angry bears. Everything was chaos at this moment, but Rick could already see resistance beginning to organize. A door on the far wall opened and three wolves poured out, already shifted and much larger than any natural wolf would be. They headed straight at Gerald and Cody who met them head on, fangs and claws leading.

Rick saw a man stand up from behind a counter at the back with a pistol in his hand, pointing it straight at him. He reared up on his hind legs in challenge, as if daring him to shoot. These shifters had spent too long pushing humans around and had forgotten what it was like to fight those of their own kind. A small pistol like that had no chance of getting through his hide, let alone doing any damage. The man shot anyways, the bullet slamming into Rick’s chest. He could feel it stuck there in his hide, having done precisely nothing.

He bolted towards the open door from which the wolves had come, trusting that his two allies could handle the fight out there. He used a trick he had learned from his father to get through, beginning the shift to human form just as he reached the door, then back to bear before the transformation had finished, after he had cleared the door.

Inside was every stereotype of a biker bar he could think of, with a dingy pool table in one corner and a scattered assortment of small tables. The lighting was low and yellowish, and the air smelled of cigarette smoke and alcohol. A bar filled the wall to his left, half empty bottles of booze lining the shelves behind. He entered just as three men finished stripping down and dropped into their animal forms. One of the men was Dillon.

He let out a roar and charged, bowling tables out of the way as he came. Normally he would be in trouble in a fight with three wolves, but the bar was small and cramped enough to limit their movement some. They would have trouble surrounding him here.

The three spread as much as they could in the cramped space, but he was on them before they had much chance to react. A swipe of one claw sent one of the wolves careening back, knocking over yet another table. One of the other wolves darted in, looking to use the opening to get a hold on Rick’s other leg. The wolf’s fangs sank themselves into his arm, but Rick’s fangs came down on his neck. The wolf released his grip with a bellow of pain, allowing Rick to lift and throw him over the bar. The booze rack exploded as the wolf hit it, filling the room with the stench of alcohol.

Dillon had used the distraction to get behind him, something Rick realized when the huge wolf landed on his back. The weight staggered Rick, knocking one of his front legs out from under him and causing him to half collapse. He felt Dillon’s jaws close on the back of his neck, seeking to snap it with a powerful twist of his neck.

That would have worked with another wolf, or a deer maybe, but Rick’s massive neck was too thick for that. With a roar of rage, he stood straight up on his hind legs then threw his body back forward. Dillon went flying over his head, but his grip was strong enough that he brought a chunk of flesh from Rick’s neck with him. The wolf slammed into the wall with enough force to leave a crack, then landed in a heap on the floor.

A quick glance showed Rick that the two other wolves were out of the fight. The one he had slashed had regained his feet, but was huddled back in a corner, blood dripping down his side. He could hear stirring from the bar, but that wolf had yet to get up.

He advanced on Dillon slowly as the battered shifter pulled himself back up. He tried to dart past Rick at the last second, but Rick was ready for that, his thick paws slamming Dillon back into the wall and holding him there. The enraged wolf howled and tried to claw and bite at Rick, but he was held too tightly and could do nothing. Rick flexed his paws, pushing his claws into Dillon’s chest, causing the howls of anger to change to howls of pain.

Apparently having had enough, Dillon shifted back to his human form. “Alright, uncle, uncle,” he wheezed. His tone was defeated, but his eyes stared into Rick’s defiantly.

Rick did his best to croak out “Laura,” through his bear throat, not trusting the other wolf not to pounce should he drop his guard.

“Vascenti’s guys took her, they left about twenty minutes ago. Said they were taking her back to New York,” he gasped. One of Rick’s claws was still embedded in Dillon’s side, and a quick flex sent it a bit deeper. “Damn it, they took one of our cars, a blue Toyota. That’s all I have!”

Unable to hold his rage in any longer, Rick roared in Dillon’s face, venting all the fear, anger and frustration of the day into one long, primal scream. He released him then, letting the man fall to his knees. He wasn’t here to kill, not if he didn’t have to, though he had known going in that he may not have a choice.

He turned and started back for the door to the garage. He could hear that the fighting outside had stopped, though there were plenty of sounds of pain echoing through the doorway. He once again dropped into human form to fit through the door, this time holding it.

The garage looked like a tornado had blown through it. Motorcycles were scattered around, all but one lying on their sides, and the floor was covered in bits of broken wood and glass, most areas spattered with blood. The wolves, those still standing, were against the way with the door in it, hackles raised, but unwilling to fight further from the look of things. His two companions stood in the center of the room. Deep gashes marked each of them, though Cody seemed much more wounded than Gerald. To have ended up like that he must have fought with no thought of defense at all, and looking at the bodies strewn across the floor it wasn’t hard to see it as true.

Most of the bodies were still in wolf form, chests heaving with the strain of breathing, clearly too wounded to walk. He saw one who had shifted back to a man and pulled himself to a sitting position against a wall. And there was one body, still a wolf, not moving at all. One of them had been killed.

Rick felt a pang of regret, but forced it down ruthlessly. He hadn’t asked for this, hadn’t wanted to fight these men. They should have known better than to do what they had done. That pang still nagged at the back of his mind, however. No circumstance could make Rick feel comfortable with killing another person.

He spoke quickly to the two bears. “They handed her over to some men who are leaving the state with her. I know what kind of car they’re driving. I’m going to get back to my truck as fast as I can and go after them.”

Gerald’s gaze shifted from his face, eyes looking just a bit lower. He could see the question in the man’s eyes, and understood immediately what he meant.

“I’ll be alright, it’s not as bad as it looks,” he said, hand coming up to check if what he was saying was even true. He tentatively explored the wound on his neck. There was a deep gouge on the muscle that connected the neck to the shoulder. It was already clotting, however, and he had no time to waste regardless.

Gerald gave the bear version of a shrug, and turned to examine Cody.

“I owe you two more than I can say, so if you ever need anything, anything from me, just call and I’ll be there.”

He met each of their eyes, Cody meeting his gaze for what seemed like the first time today. Both nodded at him, understanding his need to leave. He shifted once again, letting the still furious bear within him back out.

Could he catch them? What would he do if he did? He couldn’t very well run their car off the road, Laura could get hurt. Thoughts racing, he ran out of the garage and into the trees full tilt back towards the parking lot at Ernie’s.

 

If nothing else, at least riding on the highway was more comfortable for Laura than the local roads had been. No constant turning, no stopping and starting. She hardly had to brace herself at all.

Her plan was a simple one, and she figured it had a reasonable chance of success. Force the goons to stop the car. She was willing to bet that if she started giving it her all trying to kick the trunk open they would stop. They would have to, since if she actually was able to kick it open and there happened to be cars behind them she could signal for help. After they stopped, tell them she had to use the bathroom. Say whatever she had to in order to get them to open the trunk and let her out for a minute. Then come out swinging with the tire iron.

If the vague sounds of conversation from the front of the car were any indication, there were only two men bringing her back to New York. If she could surprise them she could make a dash for any buildings nearby, or straight into the forest if the area was deserted.

It was far from a perfect plan, but it was still a hell of a lot better than being satisfied just to hurt one of them like she had been planning before. The men buying this car off Dillon had turned out to be a stroke of luck for her.

She waited a few more minutes, then figured it was time. She shifted so her back was pressed against the floor of the trunk, then pulled her knees to her chest and began to kick at the trunk above her. There wasn’t much space, so her kicks were short, but they still made a solid impact on the metal encasing her.

It didn’t take long before they noticed. She heard the voices in the front of the car raising, shouting something back at her, but she couldn’t make out what it was. That was mostly because of the thump thump thump her feet were making on the trunk, of course.

Before too much longer she felt the car begin to slow down. It pulled onto the shoulder and slowed to a stop. This was it. Her one and probably only chance.

She heard the passenger’s door open, but the driver stayed in the car. Perfect.

She could hear footsteps coming around to the trunk, then the voice. “Better stop kicking that god damn trunk if you want to live to see New York again!”

“I need to pee! I’ve been holding it all day but I can’t anymore,” she shouted back, hands busy placing the tire iron where it wouldn’t be seen when the trunk was opened. “I’ll go in a bush or something!”

“…call you back babe. Yeah.”

Did he have a phone out? She couldn’t have planned this better in any way.

The sound of a key being pushed into the trunks lock came through, then she was blinded as sunlight flooded the cramped space she had occupied for the last hour.

She raised her left arm to shadow her face, but the thug immediately grabbed it and started pulling her out of the trunk. “Any funny business at all and I’ll leave your body in the woods,” he said, the lack of emotion in his tone practically shouting that he didn’t care one way or the other.

Laura climbed out of the trunk slowly. Her muscles had tightened up while locked in that little box, and it was an effort to step out with first one leg then the other. As planned, she placed her right on the floor of the trunk to balance herself.

This was it. Both her feet were on the ground, and her hand closed around the hidden tire iron. The sunlight was still blinding her, but the man still had his hand around her wrist. She made a guess based on where his arm was, turning her body as she brought the length of metal out of the trunk and swung it in a tight arc.

It connected dead on with the side of the man’s head, the sound a lot more muffled than she had been expecting. The effect was instant, however, as the man collapsed immediately, sinking to his knees then falling sideways. She heard the clatter as the phone he had been holding in his other hand hit the pavement.

Dropping to her knees, she ran her hands across the ground for the phone. She could still see hardly anything, her eyes taking their sweet time adjusting to the outdoors again. But within seconds she had it in her hands. She stood up and tried to get her bearings.

The driver’s side door opened then, a voice calling back. “Jim you dipshit, hurry up! We’re on a schedule here.”

Her vision was starting to come back now. They were on a long, deserted stretch of highway, no buildings in sight. Just down the slope leading away from the road was a forest. It would have to do.

Gathering herself and praying that her sore legs could do this without collapsing, she ran down the embankment and sprinted for the trees. She tried to sprint anyways, but it came out as more of a stumbling jog.

She had gotten luckier than she had any right to be. If both men had gotten out, or if her swing had been wide of the mark, she might very well be dead right now. As it was, that was still very possible.

She made it into the trees just as she heard the exclamation behind her. “You idiot! Get up, she’s getting away!”

The forest was blessedly shady after the glaring afternoon sunshine outside, allowing her eyes to finally get back to normal, more or less. There were still a few spots swimming in her vision, but she could see clearly at least. A quick glace back showed the driver jogging down the embankment, a chubby but still athletic looking man wearing jeans and a black jacket. He was holding a pistol in one hand. She could see the man she had struck staggering to his feet, still unsteady but coming to more quickly than she would have liked.

Laura turned away and began running as fast as she dared, the undergrowth of the forest making the footing uncertain. She had to create a little distance so she could call Rick. If she could find somewhere to hide in the forest, she knew he could find her.