Chapter Forty-Five

9.2K 20 1
                                    

Chapter Forty-Five

Monday

Lake City, LA

“Wake his ass up,” Red Wolf commanded Anvil Head. “We’re almost there.”

Their captive couldn’t take the tasering. He’d been unconscious in the backseat for over five minutes. Now he was convulsing.

“He don’t look so good.”

Red Wolf looked at Amir in the rearview mirror and cursed under his breath. He pulled the car into the yard of a one-story red brick home.

“Go straighten him out,” Red Wolf ordered.

Anvil Head got out and opened the back door. Not taking any chances, he trained the taser on Amir while ducking into the backseat.

Red Wolf got out on the other side. They were wasting valuable time here. “Hurry up,” he barked.

As traffic flowed past him, he heard a strange guttural noise. Drawing his gun, he bent down to get a better look inside the car. His eyes widened as he witnessed the scene in the backseat.

Blood spurted from Anvil Head’s ruptured jugular, painting the window red. Then the driver’s side door burst open, catching Red Wolf in the forehead. He rocked on his haunches and fell backwards into the busy avenue, dropping the gun in the process. Immediately aware of the danger of being run over, Red Wolf rolled until he was safely out of the road. As soon as he made it onto the grass, someone grabbed his neck. Expert fingers pressed and squeezed his windpipe as if it were an accordion

Red Wolf tossed his head around until he was staring into the face of an adolescent white girl with jet black hair. She had a pretty face and creamy unblemished skin but wore a distressed expression.

Anvil Head’s blood dripped into Red Wolf’s eyes from the girl’s clenched ruby red lips. He bucked in an attempt to knock the girl off him. She rolled with him but maintained her death grip.

As the life drained from Red Wolf’s body, the girl smiled sweetly at him. He heard her voice in his head.

“It will all be over soon. It’s better on the other side. Follow the sound of the drums.”

Drums? What drums?

Then he heard them—soft pounding beckoning in a slow rhythm that matched his declining heartbeat.

Who are you?

Her name came.

Melinda.

His phone chirped. He barely heard his men advising him that they had arrived at the hospital. He was too busy staring into Melinda’s angelic face. He felt no pain; she had taken his pain away. Until the girl’s face morphed back into the face of Amir.

A crushing sensation collapsed his lungs.

Amir stood up, got into the Crown Victoria, and drove away.

With no breath left, Red Wolf’s eyes lost focus and glazed over as he expired.

One BloodWhere stories live. Discover now