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2016 Story Request #3 - Aftermath, Part 1

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Ryan wiped the perspiration from his forehead. He reached over for one of the rags hanging on the nearby rack, squirted a dab of orange hand cleaner on his palm and turned the water on. As he washed the grime from his calloused hands he glanced up at the mirror hanging above the rusty metal sink. To his satisfaction there was still no sign of a scar along his stubbly neck. He splashed some water on his face, running his fingers through his crew-cut brown hair and along his craggy yet handsome face. Finished, he scanned the interior of the shop for his boss. Seeing no sign of Albert, Ryan shut off the water, tossed the rag into the laundry and called one his fellow mechanics.

"Hey, Camilo?" he yelled over the whirr of a power screwdriver.

A dark-haired Latino looked down from the raised undercarriage.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Is Albert around? He in his office or out to lunch or something?"

"Dunno, man. Last I saw he was talking with that customer about ordering those fan belts."

"Alright, I'll look around for him. The Toyota Fortuner's ready to go but the tires are getting bald. The owner should replace them soon."

"Okay, man."

Nodding, Ryan maneuvered around the hydraulic lifts and tool cabinets and stepped outside, squinting under the glare of the midday sun.

The auto repair shop was situated at the end of a side-street flanked by a pair of vacant lots. It featured a large vehicle bay with four bay doors, a small side office/lounge and a tiny employee break room. There was no parking lot per say. Instead, customers left their vehicles on the wide concrete driveway leading to the bay doors. There were nine cars sitting in wait and three within the building itself.

Ryan gazed around. There was no sign of Albert. There was, however, an auburn-haired mechanic with a clipboard standing next to a silver Ford Bronco.

"Hey, Jennet," called Ryan, waving.

"Hey Ryan," said Jennet, smiling.

Ryan walked up alongside her and gave her a little hug. Jennet chuckled and gave him a peck on the cheek.

Though a bit on the short side, she was lean, athletic and certainly not lacking in curves. Her skin was tanned and weathered without being outright wrinkled. She had a pleasant face and an easy smile. "You about ready to call it quits for lunch?" she asked.

"You know it," said Ryan. "I need to check with Albert before we head out. Have you seen him?"

"He left a couple minutes ago for lunch."

"Ah, well," said Ryan. "Screw it. I'll leave a note for him. Let's go."

"So, where you thinking for lunch?" she inquired, patting his broad, muscular shoulders.

"Ah...maybe Sonic?" he suggested.

"Nah, we went there two days ago," said Jennet.

"How about Compadres?"

"Eh, it's a bit of a drive," said Jennet. "Let's just pick up sandwiches at the deli downtown."

"Sounds good," said Ryan. "Lemme just leave a note for Albert and I'll meet you at the car."

Ryan made his way back to the garage while Jennet remained behind in the driveway. A few seconds later, a red pickup pulled up along the sidewalk and screeched to a halt. Jennet glanced up at the automobile. Most of the trucks she and Ryan dealt with were working vehicles - worn, bruised, speckled with dried mud, cargo beds littered with dust, dirt, straw and broken machinery. This pickup looked as clean and unmarred as the day it had driven off the dealer's lot. Hardly a scratch on it. The driver's door opened and a young woman emerged. Jennet shrugged and got back to filling out the form.

A minute or so passed.

"'Scuse me."

Jennet looked up. The pickup driver was standing a couple feet away. The first thing Jennet noticed about her, apart from her long blonde hair, was the fact she was holding a greasy bucket of fried chicken and munching on a drumstick. This contrasted sharply with her dress and demeanor. She was wearing a crisp black blazer over a white blouse, long black dress pants and glossy black high heels. Though she had already eaten her way through half the bucket there wasn't a single stain or spot on her - not even around her lips. She had a skinny yet toned body, round, smooth face with well-proportioned ears and nose and striking blue eyes.

Though never terribly concerned with conventions of femininity, Jennet could not help but feel a bit underdressed in front of the woman. She quickly shook it off.

"Yes, can I help you?" said Jennet.

The woman peered down at Jennet's chest, reading the nametag sewn into her uniform. She smiled and took another bite.

"Actually, I'm -urp- here to help you," said the woman, still chewing.

"Uh...what?" said Jennet, nonplussed.

"You're Jennet, right?" said the woman, gesturing at her nametag with her drumstick.

"...Yeah?"

"The name's -gulp- Teresa," said the woman, who finally put the chicken back in the bucket. She looked around. "Is there a Ryan working here?"

Jennet raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah," she said.

"Great! Um, do you know where he is?"

"Why are you looking for him? Come to think of it, why were you looking for me?" asked Jennet.

Teresa didn't response. Instead, she looked at something behind Jennet.

"Ah, perfect timing," said Teresa as Ryan approached the pair.

"Oh, sorry," said Ryan, nonplussed, looking at Teresa and then Jennet. "You with a customer?"

"No, it's fine, Ryan," said Jennet. She turned to Teresa. "Look, we're about to go on lunch break. If your vehicle needs service you can talk to Camilo inside."

"My car's fine," said Teresa. "The name's Teresa," she said, addressing Ryan. "I'm looking for a Ryan and Jennet employed at Steel Auto Repair on Pomelo Avenue and it looks like I found them. I'm here about the incident at Daytona Beach two weeks ago," continued Teresa. "Specifically, an altercation between the two of you and an assailant during the 24 Hours of Daytona."

Ryan and Jennet exchanged glances.

"You a cop?" asked Jennet.

"A cop? Ah, nope," said Teresa, shaking her head.

"Then you're a lawyer." said Ryan. "Look, the police down there cleared us. It was self-defense. That psycho came at Jennet and I was just-"

"I'm not a lawyer," said Teresa, raising her free hand. "I am affiliated with an organization that, in light of what happened down in Daytona, has...taken an interest in you two. Geez, that came off kind of ominous, didn't it?" she chuckled.

"Uh, yeah, it did," said Ryan slowly.

There was an awkward silence.

"Look," said Teresa eventually. "We need to talk, and I'd much rather talk somewhere a bit more private. If you're going on lunch break why don't I join the pair of you so I can explain things?"

Jennet shook her head.

"No offense, but uh, we don't know you from Adam. So unless you got a warrant or subpoena or something we're not going anywhere with you."

"You're not in trouble," sighed Teresa. "Well, not the legal kind, at least. If you don't want to meet today can we please meet up sometime soon? Before the seventeenth?"

"Why the seventeenth?"

"Uh, because I have to be somewhere else then."

"For the love of...just tell us what this is all about," said Ryan, growing impatient.

"Five minutes," said Teresa, raising five fingers. "All I'm asking for is five minutes of your time. How about this: I'll pay for lunch. Any restaurant in town."

Ryan hesitated. He turned to Jennet.

"What do you think?" he asked.

Jennet frowned. She cocked her head from side to side, thinking.

"As long as we don't have to sign anything, I'm down," she said at last.

"Great, great!" said Teresa enthusiastically. "So, where were you going to go for lunch?"

"The Bridge Grill off 9th street," said Jennet immediately.

"Huh?" said Ryan. "I thought you-" Jennet elbowed him before he could finish.

"Great! I'll see you there," said Teresa, hurrying back to her pickup. She opened the front door and climbed inside.

"That place is kinda pricy," said Ryan over the roar of Teresa's engine.

"Yeah," said Jennet. "I've always wanted to check it out."

"Heh, nice one," said Ryan, grinning. "What do you suppose she wants?"

"I don't know," said Jennet, shrugging. "That was one weird gal. How the hell did she know about that guy who attacked us? And why would she come up all the way from Florida? I don't care what she said. She's probably a lawyer or a cop and wants to bust us on some bullshit charges. God, we finally manage to save up to go down for Daytona and now all I want to do is forget it ever happened."

"Yeah," said Ryan, rubbing his neck. "I'm just glad I managed to put him down before...you know."

"Before he raped me," supplied Jennet grimly.

The two were silent.

"If she is a lawyer or a cop then we'll have to deal with her sooner or later," said Ryan eventually. "If she isn't, well, I don't think there's any harm in hearing her out. And we'll get a free lunch."

"There's no such thing as a free lunch," said Jennet wryly.

"Let's test that theory."

* * *

Twenty minutes later Ryan, Jennet and Teresa were seated at a plush corner booth overlooking a quiet two lane road. The waitstaff had provided the trio with glasses of ice-cold water and a basket of country bread. Three baskets, to be precise, as Teresa had already eaten through the first two mostly on her own.

"So, what looks good to you, Ryan?" said Jennet uneasily. The two mechanics had exchanged their boiler suits for blue jeans and collared shirts but they still looked (and felt) slightly underdressed.

"I dunno...the house cheeseburger sounds alright," murmured Ryan, scanning the menu. He looked up. "What're you going to get...Teresa?"

"I'm going to go...with the...Surf and Turf," said Teresa between bites. "With a chicken...Caesar salad and a bowl of...clam chowder." She swallowed and reached for another bun.

"O-kay," said Jennet.

"Didn't you just have a big bucket of fried chicken?" inquired Ryan.

"That was my breakfast," said Teresa. She waived at a passing waiter. "Can we get another basket?"

The two mechanics stared at her. Teresa smiled apologetically.

"Sorry," she said. She cleared her throat and laced her fingers together. "Alright, let's start by answering some questions you were probably going to ask anyways. The assailant from Daytona, Benjamin Carten, has been on our radar for a while. He had a criminal record when he joined our organization - couple of petty thefts, one or two DUIs but nothing too egregious - so he was put on the watch list. When his name came up on the police report we looked into the incident and your names popped up too."

"Yeah, but, how the hell do you have access to police records?" asked Jennet. "And when you said 'we,' who or what were you talking about?"

"It's frighteningly easy to get a hold of criminal records if you know how," said Teresa smugly. "And as far as who 'we' are, well, that would be...NALA."

"NALA?" said Jennet, puzzled.

"Yep."

"NALA."

"Mmm-hmm."

"Is that an acronym? What does it stand for?"

"Uh...well..."

"I think I've heard of them," said Ryan. "Some kind of charity, right?"

"...Not entirely," said Teresa, waggling her fingers in the air. "And I'd be very surprised if you've heard of us. We try to stay out of the limelight."

"So, what the heck is NALA?" asked Jennet.

"I'm getting to that," said Jennet. "The thing is..." she hesitated and then sighed. "Benjamin bit both of you. You on the neck," she pointed at Ryan "And you on the left shoulder, according to the medical report," she said, pointing at Jennet. "Before you sent him in the hospital."

"Did it mention what he was trying to do to Jennet?" said Ryan slowly. "Or how he gut-punched me and tried to strangle me after he bit me?"

"After you kneed him in the groin, uppercut him and tossed him over the railing onto the raceway," said Jennet flatly.

Jennet and Ryan were silent. A waitress walked over and placed another basket of bread on the table.

"Here you go," she said, smiling.

"Uh, thanks," said Ryan, still eying Jennet.

The waitress glanced at Ryan and Jennet and then at Teresa.

"So, uh, do you need a little more time?" inquired the waitress carefully.

Teresa took deep breath, exhaled looked down at the menu and up at the waitress.

"Actually, I think I'm ready," she said brightly. "You two?"

"Uh, I guess," said Jennet. She turned to Ryan, who shrugged.

The three placed their orders. The waitress thanked them, collected the empty bread basket and made her way to the kitchen. Teresa reached for another piece of bread.

"You may be interested to know that Benjamin is quite alive but under...indefinite house arrest," she said.

"Indefinite house arrest?" said Jennet, narrowing her eyes. "Don't you mean prison? Or the hospital?"

"No, not prison. Too dangerous for the inmates. And he's more or less completely recovered. We pulled him out of the hospital the same night he arrived." She paused. "We were surprised and a little impressed you managed to fend him off on your own. He was - is - a dangerous individual."

Jennet gave Ryan a look. He reached down and held her hand.

"Just who the hell is this guy?" he asked slowly.

Teresa bit her lower lip, took a deep breath, then flopped back in her seat with a sigh.

"Aw, screw it," she muttered, more or less to herself. "I've been dancing around the main issue long enough. Might as well get it out of the way. Question is, how to convinc-" she trailed off, her gaze seemingly magically drawn to a steak knife sitting on the table to her right. "Damn it," she hissed.

"What's wrong?" said Ryan.

"I guess I'm going to have to do the party trick," she groaned. "It's the only way you'll believe me. Sorry in advance, but once I do this things will make a lot more sens...I can stop being so vague."

Teresa took the knife, grabbed a napkin and brought them under the table. She sat perfectly still for a moment, then she winced in pain. Ryan and Jennet watched on in confusion.

"Hope the restaurant won't mind if I take this napkin with me," murmured Teresa. "Okay," she said, raising her voice slightly. "Don't freak out," she said.

"Um, okay," said Jennet, puzzled.

"I mean it; don't freak out."

"What exactly did you do under there?"

"I'll show you in a second. Again, don't freak out. I'm fine."

Teresa looked around. Seeing no sign of the waitstaff or any other patrons she slowly lifted her hands from under the table. She had wrapped her left hand with the napkin, which had a small, dark wet mark on it. Teresa put the knife down. She glanced around the restaurant one more time and then slowly slid the napkin off her hand.

"Jesus!" exclaimed Ryan, nearly jumping in his seat.

"Shit! Shit!" cried Jennet, cupping her mouth.

"What part of 'don't freak out' didn't you understand?" said Teresa. "And keep it down."

The cut ran across the entire length of her palm and was bleeding profusely. Her hand was smeared with bright red blood that glistened unnervingly in the light.

"Alright," said Teresa calmly as the couple stared at her in shock. "Let me take care of that..." she wiped her hand with the napkin. "Watch," she said, extending her hand and splaying her fingers.

Ryan and Jennet reluctantly gazed down at the injured hand. Though most of the blood had been cleaned from her palm the cut was still hemorrhaging pretty badly. Then, something curious happened. Blood stopped flowing. The ruptured skin along the cut smoothed. Her inflamed palm slowly paled.

"Now you see it," said Teresa, wiping her injured hand a second time. "Now you don't," she said, showing Ryan and Jennet her palm.

Apart from a slight red discoloration owing to residual blood there was no sign of the self-inflicted wound whatsoever. No cut, no scab, not even a scar.

"Yes, it's real," said Teresa, stuffing the bloodstained napkin in her pocket. "I'll do it again outside if you want. Hell, I'll cut off a fingertip and let you keep it. Just ask."

"How...how..." breathed Ryan, flabbergasted.

"NALA is an acronym for the Northern American Lycanthrope Association," said Teresa, reaching for another roll of bread. With her now uninjured hand. She took a bite. "Lycanthrope, in case you didn't -urp - know, is another word for werewolf," she explained, chewing. "I'm a werewolf, Benjamin Carten is a werewolf, and..." she leveled a finger at Ryan and Jennet, smiling slightly.

It took a few seconds for it to sink in.

"So, what you're saying here is, that since Benjamin bit me and Jennet, we're werewolves too?" said Ryan slowly.

"Bingo," said Teresa almost gleefully, taking another bite.

Ryan and Jennet sat there in silence.

"And as it so happens the next full moon is the seventeenth," she continued. "You might want to call the auto repair shop and cash in a sick day or three, because we have a lot to talk about..."
Third and probably last of the 2016 Story Requests. This one was submitted by Gowcaizer

The story ended up being longer than I planned so I'm splitting it into two parts. A young couple living in Ohio is paid a visit by an unusual woman a few weeks after returning from the 24 Hours of Daytona race in Florida. 
© 2016 - 2024 Heliotroph
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Man I love these werewolf reveals and NALA short stories. As much as I enjoyed the major series, some of these short ones are probably the most fun. That one with the...cryptozoologist? was excellent too.