Being Pure

Chapter Fourteen: Hunters

Chapter Fourteen: Hunters

Addison's POV:

The street is empty, the lamps overhead making the pavement sparkle. All the storefronts are locked up, the lights inside off for the night. The only thing still open is a Shell Gas Station, but the only person there is the man behind the cash register. The air smells fresh, the rain having washed away all the smog and trash. There are still a few puddles on the ground, reflecting the stars overhead.

I grip the knife in my hand a little tighter, looking for any signs of the ghoul I'm about to attract. Breathing in a shaky breath, I raise my arm and slice down with the knife. It shouldn't take the ghoul long to smell my pure blood and come running.

The hunters are placed all up and down the street, shotguns ready to aim at the ghoul's head. You can only kill a ghoul with a headshot, so they better not miss. I've been doing this with them for a week now, going from town to town to be used as bait. It's not like I have much of a choice. The hunters have no problem with killing me if I become difficult and I know it. I came pretty close to being put six feet under during the first hunt when I refused to open a vein for a vampire. I've done that too many times in the past month. But in the end it was the vampire that got close to killing me, ripping my throat open and nearly draining me before the hunters rushed in to behead the thing. They've gotten smarter, not letting the monster get too close or feed too long. Wouldn't want to spoil good meat.

Then the ghoul pops into the street, running at me fast. I stand stark still, waiting for the hunters to take it down. But they let the ghoul tackle me the ground and dig his teeth into my shoulder. I scream, shoving at his chest as he removes a good chunk of my shoulder. A gun shot rings through the air—finally—and the ghoul collapses on top of me. Moaning, I shove him off me and clutch at my shoulder.

"What the hell, Jeremy?" I haul myself to my feet, glaring at the hunter holding the gun. He's the youngest in the group, and usually the one to save me from the monster. He frowns, resting the shotgun on his shoulder.

"You're welcome," he mutters, kicking at the ghoul with his foot. "Frank was gonna let it feed a little more." Scoffing, I turn around to face the older hunter. He's the one who held the towel over my face, dragging me into this mess in the first place. He looks down at the ghoul, disgust clear on his face.

"Let's get moving. It's your turn to bury the body," says Frank, pointing to me. Not bothering to argue, I grab the ghoul's legs and drag him back to the car. All the while ignoring the searing pain in my shoulder.

When they originally kidnapped me, there were at least ten hunters. But it turns out most of them were just helping out a friend. Frank's in charge of the bunch, his son being Jeremy. Another hunter has tagged along for the ride, his name being Toby. He's manning the get-away-car and he helps me throw the ghoul in the back before we drive off into the middle of nowhere so I can bury the body.

"You could've shot him before he got to me," I say to Jeremy as I cover the ghoul with dirt. Jeremy scoffs, glaring at me.

"You're lucky I shot him at all with that attitude," he says, looking away from me. He looks over at his dad, a silent conversation going on between them. I roll my eyes, going back to the body. There's no reason for me to even ask—I know they won't tell me anything. I'm just bait.

When I finish with the body, we all pile into the van and start driving to the next case. Just like we've been doing for the past week—the exact same routine. Town to town, case to case, cutting into my arm over and over again and getting attacked by this monster or that. And I thought the warehouse was hell.