most painful places to get shot?"
"We both know that you're not going to shoot
me."
"Oh, trust me, I know no such thing. I hope
it doesn't come to that, but if it does, I'll take my scolding like
a man. If there was ever a time in your life when you should be
cooperative, it's now."
"Do you really think that threatening me with
a gun is going to get you accurate information?"
George nodded. "I'm a good judge of when
somebody is telling me the truth."
"I saw how you flinched when I said I
had a bomb strapped to my leg."
George chose to ignore that. "When somebody
is scared, it's easy to tell if they're lying. And I don't care how
cocky you are, having a gun pointed at you is a scary thing."
"And what are you going to say when they ask
why you shot me?"
"I'll say that you told me you had a
bomb strapped to your leg, and that you wouldn't show me, and that
I felt I had no other way to keep their precious werewolf from
blowing himself up."
Ivan's smile vanished.
George pointed the gun at him and gave Ivan
his coldest stare. "What do you know about those dogs?"
"I didn't do anything to them."
"That's not what I asked."
"Point the gun someplace else and I'll tell
you."
"Do I need to start counting?"
"Okay, fine. Fine." Ivan looked a bit
flustered, though he was clearly struggling to maintain a calm
demeanor. "When I get stressed out, it has a weird effect on dogs.
I don't know why. It's been like that since I was a teenager."
"This bad?"
"No, never this bad, but I've never
been this stressed before! I don't know what it is; maybe I've got
some..." He trailed off. "I don't even know. That's how this whole
werewolf thing started, but I swear there's nothing to it beyond
that."
"That doesn't seem like enough to create a
werewolf theory."
"I told people that I was a werewolf, all
right? I used it to impress some chicks in a club. You know, those
ones who are all wet over Team Jacob. You tell them you're a
werewolf, you watch a dog flip out, and you're in their panties. I
don't think any of them really believed it, it was all just
role-playing, but word got back to Bateman and he sure as hell
believed it."
"So you're officially saying that you're not
a werewolf?"
"Why do I even need to
officially deny something like that? How am I supposed to prove it?
What should I do, not transform into a wolf? The full moon is two weeks away; I
couldn't change if I wanted to. You've got me in a no-win situation
here, George."
"If you've got dog blood in you or something,
how could that work from so far away, inside a van?"
"I don't know! If I understood it, I'd be
doing a lot more with the power than just trying to get laid. It's
just some weird effect I have on dogs that I can't control. Nothing
more."
"You're stressed now. Why aren't any dogs
coming after us?"
"How the hell should I know? Maybe the
residents of this town are cat people! I'm not a werewolf, for
Christ's sake!" He scooted over to the end of the cage and held up
his palm. "Like your partner said, no pentagram. If I was a
werewolf, I wouldn't care that you've got a gun on me, because I'm
sure you don't have silver bullets in there. What are the other
signs?"
"I'm not sure," George admitted.
Ivan extended his arm all the way out of the
cage. The barrel of George's pistol was still a couple of feet out
of his grasp. "I don't have hairy palms. I don't have an unusually
long middle finger. It's all a huge misunderstanding."
"Put your arm back in the cage," said
George.
"I don't know what you want from me! Do you
need me to break my arm to show that there aren't werewolf bones
underneath? Is that what I need to do?" Ivan bashed his arm against
the cage, hard enough to make George wince.
Ivan bashed his arm again. His eyes were
crazed, like he'd totally lost it.
George lowered his gun. "Hey, knock that
off."
"I'll split my arm open! Then you'll see!"
Ivan struck the bars again, right on the elbow, and George was
surprised that the bone didn't break through the
"We both know that you're not going to shoot
me."
"Oh, trust me, I know no such thing. I hope
it doesn't come to that, but if it does, I'll take my scolding like
a man. If there was ever a time in your life when you should be
cooperative, it's now."
"Do you really think that threatening me with
a gun is going to get you accurate information?"
George nodded. "I'm a good judge of when
somebody is telling me the truth."
"I saw how you flinched when I said I
had a bomb strapped to my leg."
George chose to ignore that. "When somebody
is scared, it's easy to tell if they're lying. And I don't care how
cocky you are, having a gun pointed at you is a scary thing."
"And what are you going to say when they ask
why you shot me?"
"I'll say that you told me you had a
bomb strapped to your leg, and that you wouldn't show me, and that
I felt I had no other way to keep their precious werewolf from
blowing himself up."
Ivan's smile vanished.
George pointed the gun at him and gave Ivan
his coldest stare. "What do you know about those dogs?"
"I didn't do anything to them."
"That's not what I asked."
"Point the gun someplace else and I'll tell
you."
"Do I need to start counting?"
"Okay, fine. Fine." Ivan looked a bit
flustered, though he was clearly struggling to maintain a calm
demeanor. "When I get stressed out, it has a weird effect on dogs.
I don't know why. It's been like that since I was a teenager."
"This bad?"
"No, never this bad, but I've never
been this stressed before! I don't know what it is; maybe I've got
some..." He trailed off. "I don't even know. That's how this whole
werewolf thing started, but I swear there's nothing to it beyond
that."
"That doesn't seem like enough to create a
werewolf theory."
"I told people that I was a werewolf, all
right? I used it to impress some chicks in a club. You know, those
ones who are all wet over Team Jacob. You tell them you're a
werewolf, you watch a dog flip out, and you're in their panties. I
don't think any of them really believed it, it was all just
role-playing, but word got back to Bateman and he sure as hell
believed it."
"So you're officially saying that you're not
a werewolf?"
"Why do I even need to
officially deny something like that? How am I supposed to prove it?
What should I do, not transform into a wolf? The full moon is two weeks away; I
couldn't change if I wanted to. You've got me in a no-win situation
here, George."
"If you've got dog blood in you or something,
how could that work from so far away, inside a van?"
"I don't know! If I understood it, I'd be
doing a lot more with the power than just trying to get laid. It's
just some weird effect I have on dogs that I can't control. Nothing
more."
"You're stressed now. Why aren't any dogs
coming after us?"
"How the hell should I know? Maybe the
residents of this town are cat people! I'm not a werewolf, for
Christ's sake!" He scooted over to the end of the cage and held up
his palm. "Like your partner said, no pentagram. If I was a
werewolf, I wouldn't care that you've got a gun on me, because I'm
sure you don't have silver bullets in there. What are the other
signs?"
"I'm not sure," George admitted.
Ivan extended his arm all the way out of the
cage. The barrel of George's pistol was still a couple of feet out
of his grasp. "I don't have hairy palms. I don't have an unusually
long middle finger. It's all a huge misunderstanding."
"Put your arm back in the cage," said
George.
"I don't know what you want from me! Do you
need me to break my arm to show that there aren't werewolf bones
underneath? Is that what I need to do?" Ivan bashed his arm against
the cage, hard enough to make George wince.
Ivan bashed his arm again. His eyes were
crazed, like he'd totally lost it.
George lowered his gun. "Hey, knock that
off."
"I'll split my arm open! Then you'll see!"
Ivan struck the bars again, right on the elbow, and George was
surprised that the bone didn't break through the
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