A Volunteer
Ihold the thin cylindrical object over the center console between us. “Don’t accidentally jab yourself with this.”
“No shit.” Jones huffs out a breath as he takes the device. “How do we know it’ll actually work and won’t just kill them?”
I lift a shoulder. “I mean, either way they’ll be incapacitated, so who cares?”
“And if it doesn’t work? Didn’t the lab say this was still in trials?”
“The lab also said it’s worked in under two seconds every time. And they filled each of these bad boys with enough paralytic to freeze an elephant.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jones tucks the cylinder up his sleeve. “If I get bit and need a damn rabies shot after this, you’re holding my hand.”
I snort. “Uh-huh.”
“I’m the one going first,” he complains.
“Because I’m the one they’re gonna be looking at.”
My phone rings.
“Showtime.” I wiggle my eyebrows at Jones, then answer the call.
Ten seconds later, I hang up and slide my phone into my pocket. “They’re six cars back. Red sedan. But since we don’t know how good their hearing might be, we’ll talk to every car. Set the stage.”
“Whatever you say.” Jones pulls his hat onto his head.
I leave the car running as I open my door and climb out into the night.
Red and blue lights strobe through the dark. And the drizzle of rain adds to the overall scene.
Perfect for confusion.
Jones meets me at the back of the cruiser, and we walk down the center dotted line of the country highway.
“I’ll stay on the driver’s side.”
Jones nods and cuts between the back of the ambulance and the front of the first car in line, waiting for the accident to clear.
I tap on the driver’s window.
It rolls down. “Evening, officers.” The forty-something guy smiles at me. “You here to tell us what’s going on?”
I lean down to rest my elbow on the windowsill, and when I look through the vehicle, I see the passenger roll their window down for Jones. It’s unnecessary, but we’re setting the precedent. So by the time we reach the sixth car, the drivers will be expecting us to go to both windows.
“We are.” I sigh. “Unfortunately, there’s a pretty bad injury up ahead.”
“Oh no.” His smile drops.
Internally, I roll my eyes.
There is no injured person. And if there was, he wouldn’t know them. So why the fuck is he pretending to care?
Externally, I shake my head. “Deer jumped into the road and caused a head-on collision.”
“Damn.”
“Paramedics are confident everyone will survive. But it will be just a little bit longer before the road is cleared for traffic to pass.”
The man holds his hands up. “You tell everyone to take their time. We can wait.”
“Will do. Appreciate the understanding.” I smile, then rap twice on the roof of the car as I step back from the window.
Jones matches my pace, and when we’re passing the rear bumper of the car, he snorts. “What a pussy.”
“Seriously,” I agree. Then we approach the second car, and it goes about the same.
So does the third car. And the fourth. And fifth.
We pause before heading to the red sedan. I take my phone out of my pocket and hit send on a text, but make it look like I’m reading an update. Then we start toward the sixth car.
I reach up and brush rain off the brim of my hat, and while I’m lowering my arms, I shift the thin spring-loaded drug administrator so it’s tucked into my palm.
The driver’s window is already down when I reach it. And from Jones’s body language, I can tell the passenger window must be down too.
I put on my best sympathetic smile as I bend down and lean against the car door, same as I’ve done for all the other cars. “Evening.” I bend a little more, so I can see the wife in the passenger seat and nod.
They look normal.
Like a normal couple with a six-year-old kid in the back seat, sitting behind his mom.
But I know what they really are.
Freaks of fucking nature.
“Sorry about the delay.” I keep the smile on my face. And I keep my eyes on the adults.
Not on Jones.
“We had a deer—”
“Mom!” the boy shouts from the back seat.
But Jones is already jabbing his arm forward.
I don’t look. I keep my focus on my target. And when he jerks his attention over to the man attacking his wife, I dart my hand forward.
The end of the plastic tube presses against his neck. The pressure forces the needle out. And the toxin shoots into his body.
Jones and I both jump back from the car.
The kid is screaming bloody murder.
And… the parents slump in their seats.
Jones yanks the rear door open and grabs for the kid.
He’s dragging him out of the car by the time I round to his side, but the kid is fighting.
“Shut the fuck up!” Jones yells at the boy.
The boy twists in Jones’s hold. Something cracks. Jones tries to hold him at arm’s length. But the kid lets out an inhuman sound. And suddenly, Jones is holding a dog.
A wolf.
“Gods—”
The wolf kid snaps his teeth around Jones’s arm.
But the following shout is drowned out by a low rhythmic whomp.