Read All Hell for Free Online

that eye me with hatred and I follow them both inside.
    The surprises ke ep coming. I expect an empty cave. Instead, inside is a combination family living room and local gun exhibit. Along the stone wall to my right is a rifle rack, its storage capacity maxed out. A quick peruse gives me a count of twenty weapons from at least six different gun manufacturers. Some look over ten years old, worn from use. A Ruger Mini 14 looks cleaner than the rest, almost brand new and stands out like a sore thumb.
    Next to the rack was a white clothed- covered table on top of which is a variety of handguns. I eye the lot of them, eyeing a .44 Magnum, a Sig Sauer, and a Glock 19… then my glance fixates on a second generation Colt single action revolver. It had to be over 60 years old. I pick it up, flip it side to side, give it a close inspection. It’s in excellent condition save for a few grooves that run along the barrel. I comment. “Where’d you get this?”
    Silver Joe loo ks back at me. “Same place we get them all… from those foolish enough to hunt us.”
    Sidekick pulls a rifle from the rack. “Recognize this, asshole?”
    I’ll be damned. It was my pa ’s. The one I grabbed when I went off half-cocked after my brother’s death to lay waste to some of these bastards.
    He re-racks it. “You can’t have it back. I like to think of it as a trophy of mine. Finders keepers and all that.” Sidekick grabs a Smith & Wesson SD9 off the table and tosses it to me. “This one you can play with. Ammo for it is in the third draw,” he says, tilting his head toward a beat up wooden cabinet which hugs the left wall of the cave.
    “Did the hunters come after you with furniture too?” I crack.
    “No, but they carried American Express,” says Sidekick.
    I chuckle . I can’t help myself. The asshole actually makes me laugh. “I hope you used it better than just buying this piece of shit. Where’d you shop, Ikea?” I open the draw and see an impressive array of ammunition. There has to be ammo here for every different weapon that they captured. And plenty of it too. Only me and my pa had more. “Holy Shit,” I mutter.
    “Memb ership has its privileges,” says Silver Joe.
    I picture werewolve s walking into a gun store. Doesn’t seem plausible. So, either some of these guys can revert back to full human or they have human runners. More likely the latter. I grab a few boxes of ‘nines’ suitable for the Smith & Wesson. “Anything in silver?” I crack wise.
    Silver Joe sho ots me a look that could kill. I shrug. The guy spared my life and here I was, still being a prick. And, of course, there wasn’t going to be any silver ammunition. At least not here. I don’t yet know why they’re arming me, but they certainly aren’t stupid enough to give me something I might use against them.
    Silver Joe opens another draw. He pulls out an iPhone 5 and tosses it to me. “Call whoever you’re supposed to. Tell them to stand down. We are not at war.”
    “Well, fuck me, a werewolf with a cell phone. Now I’ve seen everything. Kinda gives a whole new meaning to call of the wild. Do you use Sprint or AT&T?”
    “Do you want to be at war with us?” says Joe, tiring of my shit.
    I tap the phone a nd get a dial tone. “You get reception out here. Well, fuck me twice.” I start dialing.
    “Tell ‘em you won’t be back as planned either,” Sidekick says, before I finish pressing all the digits.
    That got my panties in a bunch. “Why? You gonna kill me after I make the call?” I ask, staring intently into his eyes for the real answer.
    “Not directly after. Another time,” Sidekick answers, approaching me, glaring back at me with the intensity of the killing machine that he is.
    Silver Joe steps between us. He looks at me. “We don’t want there to be any misunderstandings . We all know you’re going to head straight for the graveyard,” he says. “That’s why we’re giving you guns. You’ll need to be able to defend