Shootout at the Silver Shadows Corral
Copyright © 2016 by Wolfen Saunderson
All Rights Reserved
We arrived at the Silver Shadows dinner and nightclub just a minute and a half under our planned time of precisely 8:10; just ever so conveniently located about a few blocks or so from my abode on Crowley Street. Wolfen had been so genial and gracious enough to let me get behind the wheel of his brand new sports coupe he had just come from the dealership with nearly four hours ago with the pretty hefty chunk of dough we each acquired off that little rat Uzi fuck, Christian Zenter; in which he had almost each and every one of his pockets lined to the brim with along with a baggie or two of ice coco before twelve rolled up on the scene shortly after. I parallel parked our ride just a few feet outside the main entrance of the establishment, and grandly swaggered past our two bouncers at the double doors in which one elegantly held open for both of us as we made our merrily way inside. Somewhere over the damn near blasting 2016 style rap music, and the even more obnoxious ringing in my ears due to walking right by the nearby speakers, I could hear the all too familiar silky sweet tone of my sister in law’s voice call us over to a table way off in the back left corner as we both strolled on over and planted ourselves in a seat next to her and the other seven of the crew, sitting in separate chairs in an almost semi-circle around each other. “Finally,” Jenni said, immediately beginning to practically inhale the damn near horse sized amount of various foods from the buffet up front piled sky high on her plate, and began speaking in between gulps and mouthfuls. “The two guests of honor. The rest of the homies and I were startin’ to get a bit antsy waiting for you two mountain laurels to show up nearly a good portion of the day. Where had you both been running off to all this time?” “Long story, sis.” Wolfen answered simply, taking a rather long swallow of his glass of sarsaparilla laid out on the table in front of him. “But to make one short, I did happen to take your advice and do something pretty smart with the grip we got from that Zenter job a few hours ago.” “And it’s definitely one hell of a relief, considering I still have more than shitloads of all the useless gifts you used to dump on me during our first week of engagement.” I quipped with a sheepish grin. Jenni chuckled and smiled back; just on the cusp of retorting with one of her usual smartass sarcastic replies, when her smile suddenly began to fade and she slowly stood with her attention now focused on something or someone up near the front of the club at the bar and dance floor area. I turned and swore if there even was a such thing as an almighty god that I saw the indefinitely master of chaos and all injustice himself, Cody Makle before there was an audible bang, and Alpha; who had been seated quietly in one of the chairs around the booth just opposite from Donna and Livia, suddenly made a strangled gurgling noise from his throat and collapsed to the floor with both hands clasped tightly around it. I whipped around yet again, only this time to see Makle and the one or two of his lapdogs that had been with him now gone with the; as if in a white clouded plume of smoke while our leader, Brandon “Alpha” Saunderson now lay as stiff as a board on the floor; bleeding profusely from a penny sized whole in his neck while Nina barked and screamed at a few of the other patrons around her to find the quickest help in the area as lightning quick as they could. But, from the way things looked and how the odds were all shaping up now, I could tell it was no doubt already nearly fifteen damn years too late.
Tensions rise even higher and blood temperatures boil even hotter in this both heart thumping and rather heart breaking third sequel of the all new spin-off saga of everyone's favorite crime fighting Hyenadae and werewolf gang based on the just as equally mean and often bloody streets of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.