Black Marks by Pete Aldin

Author:Pete Aldin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, werewolf, hunted, homeless, gritty, drifter, monster hunter, action horror, detroit novels, shifter wolf
Publisher: Pete Aldin

“That him?”

Carter jolted awake, glued to the seat by his sweaty shirt, his mind clinging to the remnants of a meaningless dream. He moved a swollen tongue about his mouth, trying to prompt some moisture. The sun had moved a long way across the sky; he’d been out for a while. He felt nauseous and…

Beside him, Tim had said something.

“What?” he asked and sat up straighter.

“There,” Tim said and pointed.

Seventy yards away and jogging closer was a well-proportioned runner. Square-shouldered. Narrow hips. Long legs. His mismatched sweat suit incongruous in the August heat, the runner had his hood up, bearing down fast on the mission.

“Whatcha think, dude? That your theryon?”

Vision fuzzy with sleep, Carter caught a glimpse of dreadlocks beneath the hood before the runner turned into the mission. Carter had only seen Jake Brennan once in the flesh, and he’d shaved and changed his clothes since he’d been filmed in the street brawl. But…

“The hair’s the same,” he said and reached for the door.

Tim stopped him. “Let’s not spook him. And let’s be sure too, huh?”

Carter’s blood pressure rose a little. His diner breakfast churned in his gut. He was sure. The moment was here. The guy was here. The murdering thing who’d taken Beth, destroyed his life.

The people milling outside the mission had parted to let Brennan through, as if they sensed what he was. Or did they know? Was there some pact amongst them? Were some of them theryons too? And how would anyone know until they’d turned into monsters?

He dropped the glove box open and slid the Glock out, its handle warm against his palm.

Tim waved at him to put it away. “Not yet, man.”

“It’s him!”

“You wanna march in there and shoot the place up, gangster-style? Huh? Didn’t seem so keen on that at the Family Day yesterday. Look, we don’t do collateral damage. Not our M.O. Just chill. He has to come out sometime.” Tim settled back in his chair, pushed his sunglasses higher. “We’re in the home strait now.”

The last thing Carter wanted to do now was wait. This search - this hunt - had cost him almost everything and now the end was in sight - right over there inside that building. He imagined it: a crowded soup kitchen, a man with dreadlocks bent low over a plastic picnic table and slurping from a bowl, Carter pulling the handgun out of his jeans and firing again and again and again, Brennan tossed onto his face with blood spurting from his back.

The fantasy turned belly-up then: a woman beside Brennan at the table falling sideways with a hole in her hip, another bullet passing straight through Brennan and into the child seated opposite him, arterial blood arcing from its neck…

Jaw grinding, Carter pressed the metal slide of the Glock against his cheek for a moment.

Patience is a virtue, he thought, then slid the gun back in the glove box. Patience is a pain in the ass.

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