MV: Escape

The house in Frisco was just another two-story suburban dwelling in a quiet neighborhood. Andy had spent the latest portion of the journey half-turned in the seat, covering the werewolf with the pistol Veronica had unofficially given him. The porch light was on, and a stocky figure was standing silhouetted in the doorway. 

"What the Hell?" asked Steve, as Veronica shoved her way out of the car. 

"One of them followed us out of the hospital," she explained, while Andy kept his seat and kept the gun pointed at the monster's head. 

"Why did you bite me?" he asked. "Why attack us at all?"

"Titus needed to feed," the werewolf said, "and we needed to eliminate any witnesses while we escaped. The cops were too close behind us, though, and it didn't quite work out."

That's one way to put it, Andy thought. "If you had time to kill us and escape, you had time to simply escape. It's not like we could have done anything except point vaguely at the back door."

"It didn't seem that way at the time," the werewolf growled. "I couldn't believe you held me off even after I'd bitten you. A fucking lamp, when you should have been transforming?"

Andy shrugged. "Your bad luck. And then Titus stole your kill?"

The werewolf nodded. "You'd have made a fine werewolf," he said. "You have the inclinations. But even as a wight, you don't need these people. You could be working against them. We should be ruling the herd, not driven into concentration camps or subject to their rules and licensing."

Andy frowned. "I woke up dead, but everybody who visited seemed to be trying to help me," he pointed out. 

"Oh yes, they're eager to recruit you before you know better. They're counting on you to support the old order. Titus has... other ideas."

"Out," said Veronica, and pulled the werewolf out of the back seat. He still hadn't made any attempt to cut loose from his bonds. 

"You should be cheering me on, supporting me, not trying to imprison me," said the werewolf, as tires screeched and a Volkswagon sedan cut into the street, a stream of bullets firing out of its passenger window.

Veronica and Steve threw themselves to the ground, and Andy ducked down behind the seat. By the time he came back up, the back seat was empty and the wolf was sprinting away after the car. "FUCK!" he screamed, but the word was useless.