Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Full Wolf Moon

"You know the rules! No weapons in the bar!  Leave 'em up front!"

Pryor slowly made his way back up towards the front of the building, depositing a shot gun, a pistol and two knifes on the counter.  There was still a stiletto tucked away in his boot, he didn't want to feel naked.

He returned to the bar and surveyed the room.  Where was she?  She always picked the most miserable places to meet.  The scum of the earth was in attendance tonight.  Pryor felt a slight tingle on the back of his neck.  Gazing down to his left he realized she was right below him.  She motioned her head to a lone table at the back of the room.  He followed without a word.

She sat silently for a minute, then leaned forward, whispering in his ear.


A scowl slowly covered his face.  Disengage?  Not now, it was too soon.  If he became detached from his unit now, his superiors would realize they'd been compromised.  They would come looking for him.  And  the others.

Pryor lowered his head until his mouth was gently touching her ear.  She was so young, so small.  She wouldn't last a week.

"Disengaging now will set off a chain of events that will have disastrous results.  Not just for us.  I need more time.  The powers will just have to be patient.  They need to trust me."

He caught sight of a commotion out of the corner of his eye.  Soldiers.  He reached forward towards the knife in his boot, wrapping his fingers firmly around its handle.  His body tensed as he felt a hand slap across his back.  He looked up to his commander, Edwards, standing next to him.

" Pryor!  There you are!  Thought we'd lost you."  Edwards eyed the girl, licking his lips.  "Who's your friend?  Hope you're in a sharing mood."

She looked down at her hands, then tried to make a brisk retreat towards the door.  Edwards grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto his lap. 

"You have a name, sweetie?  Not that it matters."

He turned towards Pryor and started to laugh, then cried out in pain as the stiletto plunged deep into his thigh.  The girl pushed out of his arms and ran, Pryor fast on her heels.  He grabbed his weapons and ran into the cold, black night.  He would have to disengage now.  There was no going back.


  1. Let's hope the wound to the thigh is enough but I think not. You have certainly whetted my appetite but with your writing my guess that is it! The scene was beautifully described.

  2. there are many ways to disengage..i never saw much use for stiletto shoes..until now..jae