Tobin
The GPS put the address about fifteen minutes away. I spun the car around on the interstate, and headed back toward the town we just left.
“I swear, if this GPS leads us back to that goddamn motel…” I muttered as I drove. I turned off from the highway, a couple miles before reaching the city limits. The unkempt road took us further into the outskirts until we came to a secluded area overgrown with trees. An old farmhouse stood abandoned at the end of the road, weatherbeaten and faded with age.
“You’ve gotta be fucking shitting me!” I stared out the windshield in disbelief. All the place needed was a flashing neon sign that read “Bad Guy’s Hideout.”
The derelict house was a bad cliche, straight out of every B-list horror movie ever made. It was that stupidly obvious. I looked around expecting to hear fiddle music or see a guy with a chainsaw wearing a leather mask. Didn’t expect a backwoods banjo haven from Felix. He’s more of a downtown kinda guy. A warehouse loft area with industrial furnishings was more his style. This place was an amateur move. It was out of the way, isolated, and out of earshot of nosy neighbors, unless those neighbors were Billy Bob and Uncle Jim making moonshine in the back forty. At least, the distance from town would be a boon when interrogating prisoners. And we would be interrogating them, first.
“We are interrogating them, Rage.” I reminded him one last time before getting out of the car.
You’re interrogating. I’m killing.
With the car obscured by trees, I scanned the exterior of the house from the brushline.
Two trucks. Not that many inside, judging by the lack of vehicles.
“There could be more in the back.” I reasoned, thinking the obvious was a little too obvious. However, my attention was drawn to a window by the front door. “Look over there.” I pointed at a light blue curtain floating on the breeze.
Time to party.
“I got this.” I walked softly, being careful not to snap any twigs or make a sound. Falling back on my training, I scanned the area while zig-zagging from tree trunk to truck fender to the side of the house, all while bent over to shrink my target zone. No use giving them an easy shot.
I stopped by the open window, listening for voices. The garbled sound of a CB radio caught my attention. It crackled and buzzed before a man’s voice droned over the line, sounding distorted, then cut off abruptly.
Luke, it’s your father.
“Shut up.” I hissed. “This could be important.”
I had a hard time understanding the muffled gibberish coming from the CB in my human form. “It’s too far away. I’m gonna have to shift. “Get out here, you stupid gargoyle, and be useful.” I quickly undressed, and crossed my arms while waiting on Rage, my manhood swinging in the breeze. “Hurry up asshole. It’s cold.”
No, it’s not. You’re just small.
“No, I’m not! I’ve never had any complaints about—”
Yeah, yeah. Hold on to your panties. Oh, wait. You don’t wear underwear.
Bzzt! The radio crackled to life, again. “Green target acquired… en route to drop off.”
“Green target?” Rage muttered. “What’s that mean?”
Let me do the thinking. You do the driving. We’ll get in there, and go all gargoyle on them.
“Agreed.” Finally working together as one, we stalked around to the front, squared up to the door, and kicked it in while yelling, “Buenos dias, mothafuckas!” It was an obnoxious, but effective, technique. The element of “Oh Shit” was on our side, and a scrawny teenager jumped up from the couch in surprise.
“No sleeping on the job!” We grabbed him by the neck, and swung him around, ramming the kid’s shoulder into the wall.
“I’m u-uh-buh-l’b-uh… I’m u-ffu-ck…” The kid blabbered while we held him aloft. He was clearly scared out of his mind. At least, he hasn’t peed yet.
“Judd? You fall through the floor again?” An older version of the kid walked through the doorway staring down at his phone. He removed an earbud before looking up to see a monster holding his friend by the scruff. We slammed Judd’s head into the wall, knocking him out before bigger Judd could pull out the pistol he had been reaching for.
“Don’t shoot, and I won’t kill your brother.” I took a guess, figuring the resemblance was too close to be coincidence. Surely, they had to be related. All the inbreds looked alike. I’m not sure if it paid off, though, because the fucker took one look at Judd lying motionless on the floor, and ran back the way he entered.
Fucking coward. Rage and I hated cowards.
We ran through the house, dodging furniture as the yellowbelly threw it. I almost laughed and reminded him that he had a fucking gun. He must’ve realized the clunky bit of iron in his hand wasn’t his phone right about when he entered the dining room, because that’s when he turned around to shoot.
We were mid-stride, crashing through a toppled chair he had thrown in our path, when the first bullet hit our chest and ricocheted off. He squeezed off several more shots before turning to run. We sneered when the bullets bounced back, hitting the guy in the back and calf, knocking him to the ground. I felt his bones crumble beneath our feet when we walked over him.
Two more hillbillies ran in from the backdoor, summoned by the sound of gunfire. The first one stood in the kitchen, quaking in his boots. By the smell of smoke on them, I figured they were either barbecuing or burning garbage outside when they heard the ruckus.
“W-w-wha… w-what…”
“Shoot it, Sam!” The second guy screamed before shooting wildly in a panic, and was quickly joined by his friend. They were both aiming for the head and chest. Bullets ricocheted off stone, peppering the cabinetry, and eliciting curses from the foolhardy duo.
“Pew, pew.” We taunted, returning fire with a finger gun.
After allowing them a last stand, we bellowed and lunged for them both. Rage’s immense size and large, gargoyle claws made it easy for us to grab a man in each hand, and slam them together like a pair of cymbals. Their heads cracked with an audible sound, much less impressive than crashing brass. Blood and grey matter oozed from their skulls, and their bodies went limp. It was too easy, and Rage was disappointed.
“Humph! Thought they’d have more fight in ‘em.” Rage gruffed. I thought so too.
These guys weren’t trained by The Guard. They were ordinary. Human. Kinda dumb too, to shoot at stone. And definitely not what we were expecting.
We trudged through the house, flipping over furniture, looking for more humans to crush. Content that no souls were left alive, except the knocked out teenager in the living room, Rage retreated inside, shifting back to my human form. A little bloody and sans clothing, I walked into the room where we left Judd and tied up the unconscious kid.
“Wake up, you little shit!” I shook him by the shoulders, rattling his brain in his skull. His eyes were as round as saucers when he came to. Terrified of the blood covered naked man in front of him, Judd screamed. I backhanded him with enough force to shut him up.
“Who do you work for? What are you doing here?” I demanded, my face inches from his.
He cowered in the chair, stammering. “I-I-I d-don’t know.”
I reached back to hit him again, when he found reason and started talking.
“M-my brother, we signed up with these guys… S-s-said we’d make money… easy money… All we had to do was wait here for a drop-off. W-w-we were gonna barbecue, drink beer, and get p-p-paid.”
“What kind of drop-off?” I yelled as I shook his shoulders.
“I-I dunno. S-s-some girl. I only know the codename: Green Target.”
I unsheathed my knife, and stabbed him in the thigh. “Who! Tell me who!”
“I swear I don’t know! A-a-a pretty girl.” He screamed as I twisted the knife in his leg. “H-her pictures there.” He pointed to a table by the wall.
I stalked across the room to where he pointed. Staring up at me from the worn tabletop was a picture of Jade. Rage roared in my head. His anger and mine combined into a hurricane of emotion that almost consumed me. I clamped my hands down on the edge of the table crushing the wood between my fingers, desperate to control the storm.
We need intel, Rage! We have to protect Jade.
We have to kill this motherfucker! Rage bellowed, and I agreed.
“Who pays you?” I growled at the kid while staring at Jade’s picture.
“Dunno… was our first job. S-s-sam s-said we’d split the money.” The kid blubbered, and begged. “D-d-don’t kill me. Pleease.”
I gingerly picked up the picture, and stalked into the kitchen, carefully coddling it as if it were Jade. My Jade. My sweet innocent Jade.
The kid wailed, desperately pleading from the living room.
Oblivious to his pleas, I turned on all the burners and blew out the flames, releasing the propane and letting it fill the kitchen before walking out the backdoor. Smoke and the smell of charred meat poured from the barbecue pit only a couple feet from the door. I grabbed a drumstick off the grill, and kicked it over, scattering the flames and coals towards the wooden building.
The gas ignited in a fiery explosion that consumed most of the structure. The rest caught fire quickly, no doubt from the dry, brittle wood. Judd wailed and screamed in pain as the house burnt around him until, finally, he too was consumed. I walked towards the car, munching on the charred chicken leg, the burning farmhouse a fitting backdrop to our rage.
I didn’t care about the filth covering me, or the car’s damn upholstery. I slid into the seat, muttering over and over. “Jade is safe. The safe house is secure.” I said it out loud as a declaration, a prayer. Like saying it outloud would somehow make it true.
Anxious for proof that she was safe, I grabbed my cell phone from the console to call Owen. A flashing SOS on the screen confirmed my worst fear. Jade’s been taken.
“JAAAAADDEE!” We roared as the shift ripped through me, displacing bone and blood with rage and rock. Enraged, we demolished everything within reach, including the car. My only regrets were that I left Jade’s side, and that we killed the hillbillies too fast.
“I’m coming for you, Felix.” We growled.