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Last Girls, Chapter Sixteen

11/20/16

  03:34:00 pm, by Nic Wilson   , 806 words  
Categories: Last Girls

Last Girls, Chapter Sixteen

Denny shot to his feet, and the detective whirled, planting a fist in his stomach. The fight went out of him immediately, and the other man helped him back onto the log. ?That was pathetic, even for you,? the detective said. ?But look on the bright side. With them dead, your secret's safe.?
Denny's legs coiled, preparing him to make another move. Only he heard a familiar sound that filled him with dread. Breathing, heavy, building to a howl. He looked over each shoulder, trying to see if the wolf was back. But the sound wasn't coming from behind him, it was coming their campsite.
Angel was awake, struggling against his bonds. ?They don't hear him,? the detective said, hiding his glee. ?Makes it all feel like a nature special, where we see the jaguar stalking through the grass, but the gazelle is blissfully unaware, just waiting for its death to give the channel a momentary ratings boost.?
Denny leapt at the detective, driving his shoulder into his back. ?Angel!? he yelled. He managed to get both of his knees onto the detective's back, pinning him to the ground.
?Off me you fat gay fuck,? the detective grumbled into the dirt, spitting to try to get leaves out of his mouth his invective had invited in.
Denny watched Betsy turned towards the tree they tied her boyfriend to in time to see the rope snap in his jaws. He remembered they were careful to keep his mouth and his remaining hand isolated, so it would be harder for him to break free. But his other hand had grown back, and Denny could already see spiny hairs pushing through Angel's skin, and his face contorting to make room for all of his newly sharpened fangs.
Betsy delivered a knee to Angel's face, smashing his teeth into the tree he was braced against. Lark ran to the other side of the tree, and grabbed the ropes and pulled, pinning Angel in place against it. He managed to bark pitifully. And the noise was returned from beside her. The other wolf was back, howling just at the edge of their clearing.
Betsy spun, silencing it with a kick to the throat.
?Makes you wish you had a steak, right?? the detective laughed from beneath Denny. ?Dinner and a show??
?Shut up,? Denny said, rearing up to give him room to bring his knee back down on the detective's cheek. It made a satisfying pop, but it also put him off balance, and the next second the detective arched his back, knocking Denny back painfully onto his cuffed hands.
?Fucking sloppy,? the detective said, brushing mud off his tie as he stood. He walked slowly towards Denny, with each step flicking another polaroid of him and Alan into the dirt between them. ?For a man as cripplingly afraid of everyone in his life finding the truth about him is... you don't fight very well to keep your secret under wraps.?
Denny rolled onto his knees. ?I prefer belly-up, for submissive poses. For one, I got no designs on penetrating you. But for two, if I did, I'd want to see the hate and fear in your eyes while I did.?
Alan hit him from behind, knocking his foot into Denny's side and sending him sprawling forward. An instant later both men were on him, wrestling his limbs to the ground. ?A handcuffed homo and a gut-gashed fuckboy? Wonder how long you two can keep this up before,? Kelly stomped him in the stomache, and he stopped talking. ?You kids are making a mistake.?
Kelly retrieved the gun from the detective's holster, and slid it in her waistband. Then she slid out the Colt Walkers. She aimed one at the detective, and the other in the direction of the wolf Betsy was fighting ?Where are the keys?? she asked.
?You're spread too thin,? the detective said, wrapping his legs around one of hers, and using his leverage to pull her into the mud. ?Distracted.? She pulled the trigger, and the ancient Colt bucked against him, loosing a bullet into his belly. The detective went limp, and Denny's grip slackened. Then the detective jerked again, slipping loose. Alan managed to wrestle him back onto the ground, a bloody smile appearing through his shirt as the action tore loose his fragile scabbing. Kelly pushed the Colt hard into the detective's stomach.
?This one goes through the spine,? she said, ?unless you stop moving right the fuck now, and stay limp.?
?Okay,? he said, his body slapping against the dirt. ?Okay.?
Kelly handed Alan one of the Colts. ?Get the cuffs off Denny, and onto this prick.?
Alan nodded. ?He breathes heavy and I shoot him.? He put the pistol to the detective's temple.
Kelly nodded, and ran back towards the sounds of dogs.

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Nicolas Wilson is a writer and journalist. An archive featuring hundreds of short stories, comics and essays can be found here.

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