Chương 43: Lover's necklace

Outside his classroom windows, the sky fades into night as Mr. Smosh wraps up the task of tidying away the chemical supplies. With the weary sigh of a man whose day has clearly gone badly, he closes the supply cabinet. He lifts his notebook from the desk, ready to slip it into his briefcase, when a crinkled scrap of paper snags his attention. He stares at it, his head cocking to one side in puzzlement. Names and addresses are scrawled across the paper. The first reads David M.

Smosh, its name and address struck through. Next comes Lionel B. Smosh. Struck through as well. Grant S. Smosh, Thomas M. Smosh, and so the list runs on, until near the bottom his eyes come to rest on a name left untouched: Adrian R. Smosh. Slowly he lowers the paper, and there before him is the name plate on his desk: Prof. Adrian R. Smosh. He casts a glance toward the open door and the hallway beyond. Not a single sound in the darkened school. Hurriedly folding the paper, Smosh jams it into his briefcase.

He has just started for the door when he stops. Holding his breath, he stands perfectly still.

"Please, don't kill me." Behind him, a silhouetted figure shifts ever so slightly in the dark. It speaks in an old, whispery voice.

"Do you know who wrote that list?" Smosh says nothing. The figure lurches ahead.

"Give me an answer."

"Laura, Laura Tale." At last, he spoke.

"Do you have any idea why she came looking for you?" He gives his head a shake. Frozen in dread, he hardly dares to breathe.

"I know the reason. Spin around, Adrian. Turn around, and I'll prove it to you." Yet Smosh stays rooted, locked in terror. eerie noises start rising from behind him as the silhouette swells, towering upward, shifting its form.

"Turn around. Face me. See what you've brought about." He shuts his eyes, shaking his head over and over. A table hurtles up past him, crashing into the wall"Oh, God..." Then a second voice snaps his eyes wide open.

"Get down!" Smosh blinks, and suddenly Autzee is right there in front of him, seizing his jacket and hauling him clear as yet another table crashes down. Both of them glance up to find the rear exit floor of the Chemistry room slamming against the wall, the Alpha nowhere in sight. Sprawled half on the ground, he grabs at Autzee as brilliant light pours in through the windows. A voice thunders out from a bullhorn. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Hands up! This is the Sheriff's Department. Do not move!" Autzee shoves Smosh off him and takes off. Fast. His feet hit the pavement, and he runs for it. He races down one dimly lit alleyway, whipping around the corner as two deputy sheriff cars roar out of the darkness into the street. Sirens wail as their tires shred the pavement. Stilinski spins the wheel with practiced ease using one hand, while raising his CB radio to his lips with the other.

"Repeat, suspect is on foot. We're in pursuit headed northwest..." Autzee sprints as hard as he can, stopping only briefly when headlights burst out from around a corner. But this time it isn't a Deputy Sheriff's car, it was Ash. He drives while a cell phone was pressed to his ear.

"Lily, He's on foot. Just ran into the iron works..." He gave the explanation over the phone.

"Hold on, hold on. Are you telling me he's on foot? Sprinting?"

"That's right, running. He's traveling on foot." Lily is behind the wheel, with Ulrich riding beside her.

"If he's traveling on foot... Then who on earth is behind the wheel of his car?" She and Ulrich peer out through the windshield, where a pair of red taillights glows directly ahead. That's Autzee's Camaro. And behind the wheel, Crimson has her hands wrapped around it. Beside her, Churro gazes out the back windshield.

"Step on it" Down the alleyway, two Deputies set their search dogs loose, letting them bolt into the shadowed passages. Swinging hard around the corner, the dogs bear down on an Autzee who is already pulling away. Then he halts, whirling back around, growling with a jaw bristling with fangs. The Deputies halt their chase the moment the search dogs come tearing back in panic, darting straight past them while the man's Camaro rockets down the road with Lily still tailing him.

Churro keeps shooting anxious looks over his shoulder as Crimson clamps both hands on the wheel at ten and two, cruising along like an elderly grandmother.

"I don't think you're grasping the concept of the car chase." Churro taunted him; his hopeless driving was a source of amusement. So Crimson stomps the gas, flinging them wildly toward a turn. But Churro peers through the rear windshield, baffled.

"They're gone." He looks down at the police scanner resting in his lap and turns the volume up.

"All units, suspect is on foot headed north, last seen on Hancock."

Apparently having shaken the police, Autzee retreats backward into yet another pitch-black alley. Yet the instant he pivots, a bolt slices through the air. He flings up his hand against the blinding burst. Not fast enough. His eyelids flutter wildly as his sight dissolves. The flash sears his eyes, pitching him backward with lids blinking against the agony. Squinting upward, he makes out a hazy shape of Ash, swiftly and skillfully slotting a fresh bolt into a crossbow. Another shot rings out.

Autzee hurls himself aside, squeezing his eyes into darkness as the second bolt detonates. His hands grope outward, raking through empty air for anything to hold. Instead he slams into a wall, staggering blindly while a dazzling white glare surges toward him, the shriek of tires trailing behind it. The white glare splits apart into a pair of headlights. His own Camaro, careening straight at him. The passenger door flies open, with Crimson and Churro peering out.

"Get in!" Autzee shoves himself off the ground and lunges forward. Tires scream over the asphalt, flinging up dust as Ash charges ahead, crossbow gripped at his side. Catching the wail of sirens and the barking of police dogs, he melts back into the shadows. Crimson snaps her gaze back to Autzee.

"What part of laying low don't you understand?"

"I had him in my grasp. He was standing right there before me. Then those clueless cops had to barge in. All because somebody chose to turn me into the state's most hunted fugitive, I never got to finish him." Autzee goes quiet.

"Could you maybe try trusting us, just for a moment?" Autzee shoots Churro a look that could kill.

"The last conversation I had with my sister, she was on the verge of cracking something. She uncovered two things. The first was a man by the name of Smosh." Churro gasps, that name clearly the last thing he expected to hear.

"Our chemistry teacher? Him, of all people?" Autzee draws out a creased sheet of paper, unfolding it to reveal a plain photocopy. One glance is all Crimson needs before a defeated sigh escapes him.

"What? You recognize this?" he asked.

"I have seen it before. On a necklace." Easing off the Camaro's speed, Crimson fixes her eyes on a sketch depicting the emblem of the Beast of Gévaudan.

"The necklace belonging to Willow."