Peter opened the swinging door slightly and called out to the girl behind the counter to call 911 while he slowly got back to his Fortune and called someone on his mobile. By that time I had twirled the 3 pieces of silver topped stakes into my hair into a bun and made a surprising look at what had happened.
"Damn those werewolves...! Don't they know when to stop causing trouble in our town...!" Peter sighed after he had chatted a while on his phone and asked for someone else to pick me up to their lodge.
"How do you know they were, werewolves?" my heart raced and it simply made a lump in my throat and was wondering how he could smell them when I could not detect anything on him? Is he a Shapeshifter like me?
"They were wearing those cursed jackets that stated their gang. That's how I knew they were from the werewolves gang and here to cause mischief and trouble. I had my bat here once I knew trouble starts brewing in Orleans."
He replied nonchalantly as he patted his bat behind his seat. He explained that he needs to give a formal report to the troopers and a pickup was driven by his other brother would be here to pick me up and head to the lodge.
Just then, a slight knock on the side door of mine gave me a jump and I thought it was a were but it was just the girl who was delivering my poboys. She looked kind of distraught as she had to walk and step over those 6 troublesome gang members that had either fainted due to their massive injuries brought about by the effect of a wooden baseball bat.
I took the package from her and stood outside in the fresh air. The smell was filled with Weres and these were emitted from the newly afflicted ones who had not turned or formed into sub wolves during a full moon. I grabbed my camera and gave a few squeezes to take photos of them and zoomed on their jackets that had the logo emblazed across their backs.
Luckily I brought along spare memory cards as the first one with the 128GB memory was tucked away in a secret place in my duffel bag and now I'm using a 32GB ones and had spares of them with me which I could swap anytime.
"How did you learn to fight like that?" I asked Peter after replacing my camera before I changed the memory chip for an empty one.
"I was in Fort Benning before I was I went to 2 tours in Iraq. One was on Desert Shield and the other was a longer tour in Desert Storm. I was a Marine and always be a Marine. He showed his ankle and it bore a burnt mark that resembles MC that was probably made by heating a metal hanger before prodding it deep into it.
"Before that, I was part of SWAT Blue Team where I was the Guardian and Negotiator in HRT and CRT situations. These are the abbreviations for the Hostage Rescue Team and Crisis Response Team."
"No wonder you could bane those guys single-handedly, in kinda proud of you have served the country and all. So you decided to quit your profession?"
"No, ma'am. I'm a COP now. Citizens on Patrol. It is like being a Vigilante without a badge and warrant but I'm able to stop these perpetrators without using a gun. Just my trusty bat here. Otherwise, I'd be armed with an ice hockey stick instead and a face mask over me and 4 little ninja turtles as my mates. Hahahha."
I laughed with him as I thought he was joking though, but if he is a side character for the TMNT, the other novel would love to have him on board. Who doesn't know about QLMT? A novel that was split into many part series that bring about the twisted storyline as it progressed.
Spon, an ambulance and 2 state patrol cars swung by with its lights a-flashing and its siren a-blaring as it turned and stopped within the front of PP Boys Depot and barricaded the whole place up.
My next ride came and it was a Hilux 4x4 with a carry boy installed behind it. Peter walked out and introduced me to his little brother Quentin Griffin or just 'Q' for short. He wanted to haul my bag but I refused flatly and said that I'd prefer to handle my things my own way and decided to have him hold my poboys instead.
I waved at Peter and he told me that he would be back at the lodge after submitting his report. Taking out 4 perpetrators would definitely earn him a backlash, especially if those 6 idiots were to file a high court claims against him.
I rode with Q who was silent all the way and so I took out my P900 and began to shoot a few pictures from behind the glass window.
"Wind the window down to get more beautiful shots, but lady...there's nothing but darkness out here," Q said as he looked in straight without even breaking into a smile. Maybe his elder brother disrupted his evening while humping his wife halfway. That's why he got the sour face... Hahahahaha.
Soon we reached the lodge and I carried my poboys in one arm and my duffel bag on my shoulders. He gave me a key to my room and told me it's 2D, indicating a room on the 2nd floor and 4th one near the staircase.
So damn unfriendly and unmovable like a rock...! I huffed and lugged my stuff upstairs and inserted the key when I got to the room. There's no smell of Weres here before and it seemed safe. I walked in, threw the switch light On and then closed the door with my foot that ended up with loud slam...!
To hell with the rest of the occupants. I'm going to play my part as a stone-faced bitch for the rest of this trip. Since Peter knew I came by the airport on a plane, he must have thought I was a rich fat lady that sits on greenbacks all day and sleeps on them all night long too.
I picked up the phone on the small desk next to the wooden bunk beds and dialled for the reception and asked for half a gallon of coke and some ice in a bucket and a few glasses as well. Men can be smart sometimes, but dumb most of the time and have to tell them what we wanted. No one is a mind reader, right?
I swiped my memory card off the P900 and changed to the former ones and looked through the LCD viewer and deletes most of the pictures that weren't needed.
A light knock came and called out that the drinks were ready. "Just leave them at the door. I'm changing..." I replied and watched the person behind the door places the tray of drinks on the floor and the shadow slowly slipped away.
I waited for a few more seconds before I opened up my door and slid the tray inside with my bare foot and closed the door. I pressed the bottle of coke and found no puncture wound that denotes a syringed substance had been forced in and twisted open the cap and it was tight and a sizzling burst of carbonated gas escaped.
I looked at the rim of the glasses and found no lips stains or any foreign object in it and dropped a few cubes of ice after I had cleaned them under a running tap in the sink. Has to be wary of anything, since I'm in a no-man's-land out here alone and people might take advantage when the least was suspected.