Grant gagged, his eyes rolling back. He dropped the gun, clutching his neck. I swept his legs and he hit the concrete hard. I leaned over him. That’s two, I whispered. Four to go. I didn’t break their bones this time. I wanted them mobile enough to run back to Daddy. Fear works better when the victims can tell the story.
I melted back into the shadows just as Victor and the others came running toward the noise. Grant. Ian. Dominic shouted. They found them. Ian was groaning in the oil drums and Grant was gasping for air on the floor. He’s here. Grant rasped. He’s too fast. Victor looked around, his face pale in the beam of his flashlight.
Everybody out. Get to the cars. Forget the crates. We leave now. They scrambled. It was pathetic. The wolf pack ran like frightened children. They dragged Kyle and supported Grant, stumbling toward the exit. I let them go. I could have stopped them. I could have slashed their tires. But I wanted them to leave. I wanted them to feel safe for a moment, only to realize the nightmare followed them home.
