Life With A Werewolf

Unwelcomed Neighbors Part 4

         The collar was large enough that I could use it as a belt. The leash was thick and had this elastic tensity to it, as if designed for dogs large enough to wear saddles. Wasn't sure what it would do with a werewolf who could throw me over his shoulder and carry me around. It didn't take long for him to come back, and when he returned there was a grin on his face, as if he was looking forward to seeing it.
         All of this to find one group of humans who had kidnapped Elouise. All of this to try and connect them with Garrett to give us at least something to go on; to let Crash give Garrett and the rest of his Rougarou clan what was coming to them. Crash was as eager as he ever was to get things going.
         "This is fucking embarrassing," Crash grumbled as he pulled me along. He kept tucking his tail since technically, he had to walk through town nude in broad daylight.
         "Oh, come on," I said. "This isn't that bad! I'm not recording anything at least."
          "Only cause Andy confiscated your phone," he snarled.
         "Don't be like that. We'll find Elouise, you'll get dressed, and we can have a good laugh about it later as I tell the guys back home, Mitch and just about everyone else who'll listen."
          He looked up at me, his ears folded down in annoyance. "I'm still pissing in your bed."
          "Bad dog! No treat for you!"
          He put his nose back to the asphalt. "I'm definitely pissing in your bed."
          I gave him a snarl of my own, though it was watered down with humor. "Oh, come on, lighten up."
          "Okay, you get naked and walk through town on a leash."
          I laughed. "You couple that with my Easter egg theory, and I'll be rode out of town on a rail."
          He gave a short gruff of laughter of his own. "You should be rode out of town on a rail for that Easter egg theory. And telling it to children, no less."
          "Hey, I was drunk, okay?"
          We pulled down main street. The few people that were out and about didn't give us a second look. After all, it was just a guy walking his dog, and possibly talking to his pet. Who cares if the animal is humongous when there's so much commotion going on the other side of town?
          Andy had the idea to have his deputy race through the stop signs on the opposite end while he chased him for a few blocks. With the roars of the engines, the flashing lights, sirens, everyone's attention was in the other direction. So there hopefully wouldn't be any calls about a man walking his crazy pet bear dog thing down the street.
          The trail had led down Main half a block. Then it turned and toured through a neighborhood, peppered with old houses and new, the type of neighborhood you'd find in a slowly developing small town. It cut down a side street that led towards a highway on the outskirts. Occasionally a car would pull up behind us and pass. Everyone was too polite to honk their horn, but we got a lot of stares. Crash tried to pretend to be a dog, but I could tell he was a little embarrassed by the four cars that pulled up to us. The looks we got from the locals told me that if they weren't so polite, they'd have cussed me out. So, I did the only thing I could: I waved at them and gave each car a nice, large goofy smile.
          The trail turned down a gravel road for about a half mile. The road was trees on one side and farm fields on the other, with drives jutting into it every once in a blue from the trees themselves. Eventually, we came to a drive where Crash had stopped.
          The house was unassuming. A single story ranch type house, with both a front porch and what looked like a back. A half acre of lawn in the front. There was a vehicle there, an old pickup of some kind, but not much of anything else. Certainly not a VW, Passat or otherwise. A skinny man wearing a sleeveless T-shirt was out on the porch. He had a mullet that strangely reminded me of an old MacGyver rerun. The snarl on his face matched the hairdo. For some reason, I briefly wondered if he was going to challenge me to a dance off and start singing Hall and Oats tunes.
          I jerked back on the leash, pulling Crash back. "Okay, okay, let's turn around." He watched us closely as we walked part way down the street, out of his sight. There wasn't much for us to go on still. The car ended there, but there wasn't any signs of non-humans on the property. So, I called Andy.
          Two sentences into the phone call, Crash began to dry heave. It looked like a cat coughing up a hairball at first. Then, it got worse, turning into a full body wretch, complete with claws in the ground, snarl on his face, and ears pinned. There was a pained look upon his expression as he pulled back further. "Something..." Crash grumbled. "...wrong..." he stammered as he drew back further from the property.
          "Yeah, that was Crash. Hurry." I hung up the phone.
          Joe Dirt's uglier cousin walked towards the mailbox with a shit eating grin. He took an old paintbrush, dipped it into an old Home Depot bucket and coated the bristles. Pulling it out, the brush was covered in a thick viscous, blackish brown fluid that smelled like what I imagine the inside of a dead horse's ass crack would smell like. It made me gag and was making Crash worse. Giving the post the mailbox was nailed to a good three or for swipes with the brush, he walked back towards his home, laughing.
          Crash had turned a sickly shade of green and had to move back even further. "Shit."
          "Yeah," I agreed. "That wasn't in the manual. Guess I'm doing more than paperwork, huh?"
          Didn't get a response to that question. Andy showed up a few moments after that, a sneer of disgust and concern on his face. "Will he be alright?"
          "I don't know," I said truthfully. "Some punk painted something horrible on the mailbox and now Crash is turning colors."
          Reaching down, I stroked Crash's ear. Normally, he wouldn't let my hand near his head in that manner, which makes sense. But, it was instinctual. A human comforting his beloved canine, not a man and his werewolf friend. He could only give me a pained groan back. The groan felt like it stabbed me in the heart. I looked at the cop, a cold anger in my voice. "Can I go kill that bastard?"
          "No," he said. "Neither can I. But, I can get him for something else."
          The police department and Crash's department it seemed worked in tandem. When something fell out of the jurisdiction of us, like it had, it fell directly into Andy's department. It didn't take him long to walk up and touch the mysterious substance on the post. He collected some and saved it in an evidence bag. Afterward, he made a call on his radio and walked up the drive.
          Another police cruiser roared down the road a few moments later, it's siren blaring, lights flashing. They skid to a stop in front of the house, sliding almost sideways. Two more cops jumped out, pistols drawn. Down the drive they ran, running headlong into death and danger, while I sat with sickness.
          "Jason."
          "Yeah?"
          Crash looked up at me. "Are you petting me?"
          I stopped. He chuckled weakly. "You keep that up, and people will think we're dating."
          "People think you're my dog," I told him.
          "Humans think I'm your dog..." he started retching again, and spewed up green bile. Then he panted. "I got to get away from that stuff."
          I didn't know what to do. I'd lifted him up, threw his arm over my shoulder and started limping with him towards the highway. Ignoring Crash's incredulous look, I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. With each step was a cleaner breath. With each step he grew stronger. As we stopped on the shoulder of the highway, he swayed for a moment, but he stayed upright on his own. At least for a while. Then he collapsed back to the asphalt. I nearly followed him, but managed to stay upright through nothing else than pure rage and adrenaline.
          Bosses number was dialed before I knew I'd done it. Only, for the first time, Boss didn't answer. He had always answered. I dialed again and again. Nothing. I called the office next. No answer. Things were going from wrong to worse. Crash was just starting to get color back in his lips and ears. Just barely getting the strength to stand. From the road I could hear gunshots. Our only lead was going out in a blaze of glory.
          Then, my phone rang. It was Charles. I hung up. It rang again and again. Finally, after the fifth time hanging up on him, I answered.
          "Little busy Charles, this better be important," I snarled.
          "All sorts of folk are collapsing around town."
          "What?"
          Panic rose in his voice. With panic his grammar got worse. "Yes. Minotaur couple dropped. Outside dropped. Unicorn guy. And...I feel..." then the connection dropped.
          Rage boiled in my veins. My fist shook as I clenched it tight. I snarled a single word. "Garrett." Somewhere, I could feel him laughing.