Animal Behavior and Other Tales of Lycanthropy (21 page)

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Jesse Barnes awoke to darkness, his body racked with pain.

Where am I? Why am I tied up?

His body trembled with vibrations from the music that thundered in his ears. The soft glow of an emergency pull cord told him all he needed.

I’m in a trunk. But who . . .

He remembered a strange man approaching him and asking for a light.

Then nothing.

Someone must’ve hit me from behind while I was at the grocery store. But why? And where are they taking me? I haven’t done anything . . . except . . . the bank robbery.
He looked at the pull cord.
They’ve come for me.

At the time, he didn’t know that the bank he worked at for seven years was owned by the Mafia.

All I wanted was a little payback. How did things get this bad?

Life had been great for Jesse; he was on the fast track to becoming
the
financial consultant to Chicago’s elite at one of the city’s most prestigious banks. The majority of the bank’s customers loved and requested him, no matter how many were in line before them. At his peak he averaged a twelve percent return on investment on the funds he recommended to his clients. No one was better.

Then the economy took a turn, all stocks plummeted and everyone lost. Corners were cut, jobs were downsized, companies restructured and there was no longer room for a fallen hotshot at Iniquity Bank of Chicago. He pleaded for at least a teller job, but job competition was fierce and he was overqualified, so they sent him packing.

When his daughter was born, his wife quit her job to be a stay-at-home mom. At the time, they were financially secure, but without steady income, their savings dwindled to nothing. Her job search was no better than his; a four-year absence from the workforce was not what companies were looking for.

With one of their cars already repossessed, the foreclosure notice on their suburban home was the final straw. He was the man of the house, the sole breadwinner, it was his responsibility to clothe, feed, and protect his family. So he devised a plan, and his former employer inadvertently made it easy for him by not changing any of the security codes upon his dismissal.

Had I known then what I know now, I would’ve understood why they felt it was not necessary. Who in their right mind would steal from Victor Bianchi?

During the most successful times people smoked, drank and gambled, and during the most trying times, people smoked, drank, and gambled. Victor Bianchi understood this and found a way to turn a profit in these industries.

The man was untouchable, the only crime boss left in Chicago. He and his crew seemed to be the only ones thriving in this economy. He shared his good fortune with the right people: police officers, whose hours had increased while their pay decreased; judges that ruled against overzealous District Attorneys that thought they could bring down the notorious Bianchi; and Building Commissioners that approved the plans and permits to build his empire—all of whom wanted to give their wives, children, and mistresses the things they wouldn’t normally be able to, but were able to with a supplemental income.

How did I not know he owned the bank? How did it slip by me?

It wasn’t until during the heist that his former boss revealed the secret, but it was too late by then, the job was already in progress and going smoothly.

Jesse had recruited a couple of the other bank employees that had lost their jobs as well. He knew the risk he was taking by asking them, as they could have easily turned him over to the authorities, but he couldn’t do it alone and they were all too eager to help. Mitch Almeida had been one of three janitors employed by the bank, and on his paltry salary he was quickly put on the streets after termination. Rounding out the trio was Jake Holden, a rookie teller who lost out to his female supervisor when she agreed to take a demotion when her position was eliminated.

Without a flaw in the plan, Jesse had questioned the ease of the robbery, but having all that money in his hands distracted him.

I should have been prepared for this. Did they take Michelle and Lisa?

The thought of his wife and daughter suffering for his mistake was too much. Jesse didn’t care about himself, but for his family he would fight. He struggled against the ropes binding his wrists behind his back, bit at the duct tape on his lips in the hopes of grabbing the pull cord with his teeth and disengaging the lock and jumping out, but nothing budged. Added to that, his breathing was becoming increasingly difficult as a soft haze of cigar smoke encompassed him.

I’ve got to get out of here!

When the car finally stopped, Jesse’s fidgeting did, too.

Wonder where we are? Did they bring me to Victor so he could be the one to dish out my punishment? What will he do to me? Boil me in oil. Give me a pair of concrete shoes. Carve my hide and feed me to his dogs. Oh God, don’t let him hurt my family. He can do anything to me, but let them live.

The trunk opened and two of the largest men Jesse had ever seen stood before him. Behind them, the full moon stood prominently in the dark sky.

“Let’s go,” one of them said as he grabbed Jesse under the arms.

The other grabbed his legs. They hoisted him up and he was draped over one of their shoulders and carried away from the car.

Jesse looked around, trying to figure out his bearings, but he didn’t recognize the wooded area around them. The men said nothing as they carried him deeper into the woods.

Once they were in a clearing he was tossed to the ground. The two men took turns kicking him. His hands were still behind his back leaving his midsection exposed. Most of the kicks landed there, breaking several of his ribs, but a couple landed against his face and skull. Darkness engrossed his vision, but the removal of the duct tape snapped him back to consciousness.

“What do you want?” he asked, barely able to get the words out through the pain and the fire now lit inside his chest.

“Our boss wants his money back. Where is it?” one man said.

“We’ve got your whole crew. If you don’t talk, one of them will,” said the other

Jesse swallowed. His mouth was dry. “We divided it up. I don’t have—” A low growl followed by a tug on the ropes behind him stopped him in mid-sentence.

“What’s that doing here?” one of the big boys said.

“I don’t know. Grab it!” the other said.

“I’m not touching it. It could be rabid.”

“Do I have to do everything?” The man grabbed the wolf pup by the scruff and lifted it toward his face. “It’s cute. Think I could keep it?”

“What for?”

“Could be intimidating?”

“Believe me,” Jesse said, “you’re intimidating enough. Let it go. It was just playing.”

“Thank you, but flattery isn’t going to help you. And don’t tell me what to—Ow!” The man dropped the pup. As the pup scurried away, he aimed his gun and fired. The pup yelped and toppled over. The man walked over to it and finished the job with his massive boot. Jesse heard bone crunch beneath the heel.

Two more growls, this time coming from the right.

“Look what you did,” the other man said as two adult wolves walked out from the underbrush.

Before the wolves could pounce, two shots rang in Jesse’s ears. Without a sound, the wolves fell.

The big man towered over Jesse. “Let’s get this over with. You were going to tell us where the money is.”

Jesse prepared himself to speak. Taking a breath with his ribs broken felt like his lungs were expanding against iron bars. “I want to know if my family’s safe first.”

“Our boss sent us and our buddies out to get you and your crew. They’re being interrogated elsewhere and if none of you tell us what we want to know, then our orders are to ask your loved ones.” The man grinned then raised his eyebrows up and down a couple times like some kind of hotshot.

Michelle, Lisa.
“I’ll tell you where my share is,” Jesse said. “It’s buried in my backyard under the birdbath, but I don’t know where the others stashed theirs.”

“That’s not your concern. Frankie, I’m callin’ it in. Keep an eye on him.”

“A’right.” Frankie’s gun was trained on the center of Jesse’s forehead.

The other goon dialed as he walked away.

What is he talking about that he can’t say in front of me? I’ve got to get out of here. My family needs me.
He tested his bindings.
That pup, I think he loosened the rope.
Jesse fidgeted a moment more.
Yes!
He wiggled his hands free.

“I think that wolf is still alive,” Jesse said.

Frankie turned to look and squinted against the dark. “I don’t think so.”

As he turned back, Jesse grabbed a handful of dirt and tossed it in Frankie’s eyes.

“Son of a—”

Jesse stood, aiming the top of his skull at the goon’s head. The blow landed, knocking both of them to the ground. The world around him spun and he was forced to close his eyes. An image of Michelle and Lisa being terrorized by the two goons that kidnapped him flashed before him. Rage burst within.

He stood.

A gun fired.

Jesse fell to the ground, heat radiating at the center of his chest.

The big guy who had been talking on the phone came up to them. “Frankie, what are you doing? You let this runt overpower you?”

“I’m sorry, Moe.”

“Get to the car, we’ve got orders.”

“What about him?”

“I’m taking care of it.” As Frankie walked away, Moe knelt down beside him. “Nice try. I understand why you fought. I’d fight, too, so I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to let you bleed to death here while we go meet up with some friends to go dig up Mr. Bianchi’s money and have a little fun with your girls. Orders are to leave no witnesses.”

“No . . . please . . .” Breathing was near impossible, making talking difficult. Blood spilled from the corners of his mouth. A chill swept over him as his warm blood pumped out of the hole in his chest.
No. It can’t end like this.

“You think about all the nasty things we’re going to do to those precious to you,” Moe said.

Jesse reached out to try and grab Moe by the ankle, but his arm fell limp before he could latch on. Moe just laughed and walked away.

This is it. I’m going to die alone and my family is going to be tortured.

There was a rustle in the nearby bush; he strained to turn his head in order to see what it was. He feared it was another wolf, hungry and intent on feasting on an easy meal.

It’s still alive. It’s going to finish me off
, he thought as the wounded wolf crawled toward him.

He tried to speak to scare it off, but only a gurgling sound came out. The wolf crawled on top of his chest; excruciating pain shot through his body from the weight.

Warmth spread through his body like wild fire as their blood mixed together.

What’s happening?

The wolf’s flesh melted into his.

Where’s he going? Why’s he falling into me? What—We’re becoming one.

Hair sprouted from every pore. Jesse’s fingers lengthened and tapered off into vicious claws. The sound of bones cracking and reforming echoed in his ear. The pain in his chest faded. He stood on his haunches.

Finally whole, the beast slowly approached its fallen pup. Jesse lifted it up and cradled it against his chest, feeling the loss of a child, then carried it over to his mother and laid him beside her. He looked to the moon high in the sky and let loose a bloodcurdling howl before chasing after the two men. The wolf inside him had a new family that needed protecting. Jesse could sense its rage, both man and beast united with the same goal—revenge.

With the heightened senses of the wolf, Jesse tracked the Italian thugs through the woods with ease, guided by the aroma of the cigar smoke. Frankie stood by the car and Moe traversed the hill toward the road. Jesse jumped onto a nearby tree and catapulted off it.

“Lookout!”

Moe turned around. A clawed hand arc downward. The razor sharp nails of the beast sliced through skin and muscle, decapitating his head. It plopped into a pile of fallen leaves and the body rolled down the hill.

Frankie ran to the body; Jesse assumed he needed the keys. He dropped to all fours and charged, running at him headlong.

“Stay away!” Frankie drew his gun and fired a barrage of bullets.

The beast zigzagged, dodging most of the bullets. Jesse pushed through the pain, staying the course. He leaped into the air and drove his body into the goon’s. As they fell to the ground, he clawed at his midsection, disemboweling him.

Frankie rummaged with his small intestine, trying to shove them back inside. When he spoke, blood spurted from his mouth in thick glops. “What have you . . . done? . . . . What are . . . you?”

Jesse lowered his muzzle toward Frankie. The goon’s scream turned into a gurgle as his throat was ripped apart with a single bite. Blood geysered as the body convulsed, then all functions ceased.

Blood dripping from his mouth, Jesse sniffed the air. He approached the car, took in the scent of the tires, and followed the road. He kept to the shadows as he made his way back.

At such a late hour, few cars appeared on the road and Jesse struggled to keep the beast in line. Each passerby teased the creature. The wolf wanted to hunt, to feed, to answer the call of the wild and show its dominance, but Jesse’s will overpowered the animalistic urges and kept the beast on course.

Please let me be in time
, he thought as he turned down his street and his house came into sight.

From this distance he couldn’t hear any screaming but he could see three men: two in the living room and one in the kitchen. The beast approached the ranch-style house with stealth, hopped over the picket fence and stared into an adjacent window.