Leader of the Pack
Hailey stood by the side of Route 93 amidst the Nevada desert with her backpack and her favorite red hoodie that she had tied around her waist. She heard the sound of motors–hundreds of them. Staring down the highway she saw an oncoming stampede of motorcyclists speeding towards her like black and chrome stallions escaping a dust storm at their heels. Should I try to get a ride with them? Hailey asked herself. She thought of the movies she had seen about rough motorcycle gangs. This could easily turn out ugly, but Hailey needed a ride.
As the bikes drew closer, she waved to catch their attention. The leader of the gang slowed and the others followed suit. Parking his bike, a sleek Harley-Davidson that would look stunning if it weren’t coated in dirt, the leader approached Hailey.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Y-yes,” Hailey managed. He was a very handsome young man, not like the bearded and beer-bellied Hell’s Angels she’d seen in the movies.
“You need a ride, I take it?”
“Mm-hmm,” she replied. “I’m heading for Las Vegas; are you taking this road much further?”
“We’re heading to Vegas as well. You can catch a ride if you like.” He reached out a leather-gloved hand. “I’m Troy.”
“Hailey,” she said as she took his hand in hers. “Are you guys some kind of gang?” The words were out of her mouth before she could decide if they sounded stupid or not.
Troy twisted halfway around and pointed to the back of his jacket. Across the top “The Pack” was written in red letters above a wolf’s head. He walked Hailey back to his bike and the straddled it together.
Troy smiled at her. “We don’t have any helmets, but you might want to put that hoodie of yours on. The wind can get pretty chilly once we’re going.”
Hailey unwrapped the hoodie from around her waist and pulled it over her head. Troy seemed to like the look of it on her. “Ready to go, Little Red Riding Hood?”
Hailey laughed at the nickname and nodded.
Troy started his bike and it roared into life. The dozens of bikes behind him answered its call. Hailey gripped Troy and let her head fly back as the wind rushed through her hair like chilly fingers. She looked up at the sky as night was falling, the first few stars peeking through.
They were on the road for nearly an hour, the night’s full moon having just arrived, when she heard a strange growl and felt Troy shift in her arms as though he were uncomfortable. He was bending his back and his arms as though they sore, trying to get the kinks out.
“Are you all right?” she shouted over the motor.
Hailey heard the strange growling again, but this time it wasn’t just Troy, it was from behind her as well. She turned around to look at the other members of The Pack following them and saw that they were all grinning wildly. Their teeth looked strange, pointed, and everyone seemed to be… larger. They were twisting and moving like Troy. Hailey turned back around, thinking that it had to just be the dimming light playing tricks on her eyes.
Troy laughed, and the growl was distinct now. It sounded nothing like the clean, sweet voice he had first addressed her with.
“Troy!” Hailey shouted over the motor, beginning to panic. “What’s going on?”
The leader of The Pack turned to look back at Hailey, his face a wicked distortion between that of a man and that of a wolf, fur bristling the sides, teeth sharp as knives and corn-yellow eyes.
“I’m afraid you won’t be making it to Granny’s house, sweetie.”