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Pack Hunters: Trust Casefiles, #2

Pack Hunters: Trust Casefiles, #2

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Pack Hunters: Trust Casefiles, #2

303 pages
3 hours
Aug 23, 2016


Catherine Jordan is an operative for a secret organisation that hunts down evil. Her next mission far outweighs any other she has ever experienced, this time the risks are personal - they involve her girlfriend Daphne, who has gone missing when a plane is hijacked, a beastly tropical island and a deadly lottery where nobody wins, nobody human anyhow.

This Pop Culture Horror story is not based on medieval folklore or Germanic pagan times, it is a modern day thriller with elements of American Werewolf in London, the series Lost and Hunger Games. The phenomenon of lycanthropy activity is rampant. The shape-shifters heavily populate a deserted tropical island, surviving, thriving, hunting and devouring anything that breathes....they are ravenous, craving human flesh!

Catherine is not fooled by the illusions of a stunning yet dangerous tropical island, that masks a breeding ground for the pack to launch from. From there they are sprawled throughout our cities as humans morphing into wolves, whenever the need arises with howling successes. Her desperate efforts to rescue Daphne in time are driven by their love for one another, but are all her attempts futile? And who, if anybody, survives the beautiful island's morbid, evil, blood-soaked environment?

Aug 23, 2016

About the author

Lee Cushing is a paranormal thriller author and a lifelong fan of the occult. Having become obsessed with supernatural folklore and the world of horror from an early age, Lee has spent years studying tales of the occult and immersing himself in stories of otherworldly phenomenon. He’s also the owner of a number of vampire and horror-related groups in Facebook, where fellow fans of the supernatural come together to celebrate and discuss all things paranormal.  His debut novel, Voodoo Mambo, blends high-stakes action and shadowy agencies with a dark underworld of demonic creatures and their insidious plots to attack humanity. Lee draws his inspiration from classic horror movies – including Hammer and Universal – as well as beloved TV shows including Doctor Who, Supernatural, The Avengers, and Buffy The Vampire Slayer. 

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Pack Hunters - Lee Cushing

Chapter One

Michael watched the nineteen year old with caramel coloured hair slither out from beneath the duvet.

My wife would probably kill me if she knew about last night.

Stopping by the chair where she had left her clothes the previous night, Jolene glanced back at him still lying in the hotel bed.

Picking up her shoulder bag, she slipped her hand inside, her fingers encircling the handle of a dagger.  Seems like she’d have the right idea.

Her fingers leaving the hilt of the dagger, she turned back towards him, a smile appearing on her face.  You know what will be even more fun?

Returning to the bed, Jolene smiled as she positioned herself over his chest.  Reaching forward to grip the edge of one of the pillows, she pulled it from under his head.

What are you doing?

Her smile almost became laughter, Having a bit more fun.

Jolene pressed the pillow hard against his face before he could say anything else.  She held it until he stopped struggling to push it away, the ecstasy of her enjoyment explicit on her face as she suffocated him.

Waiting a little longer after he stopped moving to be certain, she climbed back onto the floor and walked towards the hotel door.  Opening it, she gave no indication of being embarrassed at still being naked.

She walked back towards the chair as a man with a weathered looking face under a clump of unkempt faded grey hair entered, His uniform’s over there.

Andreas closed the door and looked at the pillow still covering Michael’s face, Any problems?

None, Father.  Beginning to get dressed, Jolene was beaming with satisfaction as she looked at him.


Carrying the last of the suitcases down stairs, the tall scrawny man with slick dark brown hair placed it next to the other two.

Stepping through the open doorway, Timothy Larter glanced out of the window to see if the taxi was coming up the street yet but it was still quiet out at this hour.

He glanced back at the fair haired woman emerging from the dining room, Are you sure you’ve got all the numbers?  You haven’t forgotten anyone?

I know you still think of me as your irresponsible little sister, but I’m fine.  Brenda paused for a moment, Just give me the number for the druggies across the road again.

Timothy smiled for a moment, Very funny.  Hearing a car pull up outside, he glanced again at the window and saw the driver of the taxi walking towards the front door.  He gave Brenda one last long, Remind the kids we’ll call as soon as we get to the hotel.

Hurrying into the hall as the doorbell chimed, he opened it and looked at the driver.  Won’t be a minute.

Rushing to the bottom of the stairs, he shouted up.  Jodie, the taxi’s here.

Down in a mo, I just want to say goodbye to the kids again.

Turning back after his wife had finished shouting back down to him, he made for the suitcases and picked two of them up.

The Driver took a step into the hall, I’ll get that last one.

Stepping outside, Timothy glanced back.  Thanks, mate.

Hurrying down the stairs, Jodie grabbed a holdall from the telephone table seat, catching several strands of her burgundy hair under the strap.  Stopping at the open door, she looked back at Brenda.  Tell the kids we’ll call after we land in L.A.

Timmy already mentioned that.

Jodie backed towards the open door, You’ve got all the numbers in case of an emergency?

Brenda broke into a smile, And he mentioned that too.

Okay.  Jodie nodded, I guess we’ll see you in two weeks.

Brenda moved forward and placed her hand on the door to close it, Just go and have fun, it’s supposed to be a second honeymoon.

Nodding again, Jodie hurried down to the end of the driveway and climbed into the backseat of the taxi next to Timothy.


The white bearded man saw the journalists gathered in the lobby of the hotel as soon as the elevator doors opened.

Victor Cole stepped towards the waiting group, speaking with a strong Texan accent.  Before any of you ask, I was not wrong in my prediction, the date that I have been giving for the last month was simply a miscalculation on my part.  As soon as I return home, I will correct my mistake and will be able to give the exact date for the Day of Judgement.

One of the journalists took a step forward, So you’re not going to admit you were simply wrong about the world coming to an end yesterday morning?

I was not wrong, but simply made a mistake in my calculations.  Now if you will excuse me, I would like to have some breakfast.

Another reporter moved to block him as he tried to reach the dining room doors, Just one last question, do you intend to give back any of the money that your followers have donated?

He answered without hesitation, That money was entrusted to me by those wishing to save their souls when the end comes and I will not turn my back on the faith they have placed in me to ensure their salvation.  Now that is all I have to say, Gentlemen, Ladies.

Pushing his way through into the dining room, he saw a woman with iron grey hair sitting at one of the tables and headed towards her.  Sitting opposite her, he selected a piece of toast and started buttering it.  I’ll be glad when we’re back home.

The reporters in the lobby?  Judi Cole took a sip of her morning orange juice, a softer lilt to her accent than her husband appeared in her voice.  They questioned me as well.

Spreading a knife full of jam over the buttered toast, Victor took a bite.  I don’t think we should wait.  We should go straight to the airport and hope we avoid any more reporters.

Chapter Two

Parking the van on the side of the street, Julian glanced at the curly haired brunette sitting on a wooden seat in the back, his long brown hanging between his back and the leather of the driver’s seat.  Ready?

Mercedes opened a wooden box and removed two of the three daggers inside, handing each to Julian and the ginger haired teenager sitting next to him.  Taking the last dagger for herself, she climbed out through the rear doors.

Crossing the road first, Mercedes approached the front door of the house and rang the bell.  As soon as the door began to open, she pushed against it and slammed the woman in the hallway down against the stairs opposite.

There was a satisfied smile on Mercedes’ face as she swung the blade, spraying blood onto the wall as it sliced through the woman’s throat.

Moving past the stairs and along the hall, Julian pushed the kitchen door open and began advancing towards the man facing the window still eating his breakfast.

Grabbing the man from behind, Julian pulled his head back and ran the blade deep across his throat.  Letting the man’s head fall onto the table, he watched the blood mixing with the milk in the man’s bowl of cornflakes.

Julian then became aware of the fourteen year old boy standing in the doorway to the dining room.  Making a grab for the boy, he caught only air as the boy made a dash for the lounge.

The boy never made it to the door at the far end of the lounge.

Mercedes stepped through it and grabbed him by his T-shirt, slamming him down onto the couch and was laughing as she stabbed him over and over again.

She only stopped her assault when a scream sounded from the top of the stairs.

The ginger haired teenager looked up from just inside the front door as the twelve year old girl screamed.  Bryan began racing up the stairs as she dashed for her bedroom.

Turning as she pushed her door shut, he approached it and turned the handle, the door swinging open as he pushed against it.

The girl was struggling to open her bedroom window as he reached her.  Grabbing her by the shoulder, he pinned her down against the duvet covering her bed.

Her screams fell silent as he slashed open her throat, watching the blood gushing to soak the duvet.  Continuing to watch the blood for a few moments, he left the room and began checking the other doors.

Hearing him calling from upstairs, Mercedes paused only to slit the boy’s throat before heading upstairs.  Finding him in one of the bedrooms, she looked at the three year old staring back at her from the bed.  Hold her down.

Watching him pin the child to the bed, Mercedes removed a small leather wallet from the back of her jeans.  Opening it to reveal a syringe, she removed it and pushed the needle into her abdomen, filling it with her blood.

Withdrawing the needle, she pressed a blob of cotton against the small wound and held it until the bleeding had stopped.

Exposing the child’s stomach, Mercedes drove the needle into the soft flesh, making the child begin crying.  Injecting all of the blood into the child’s stomach, she pulled the needle out and discarded it on the sheets covering the bed, noticing the name spelt out in bright letters above the bed.  That’s it, Rachel’s one of us now.


Locking the door to her car, Sarah Lamb made straight for the elevator, brushing her brown hair from her shoulders.  Pressing the button at the side of the doors, she waited for it to come down to the parking level and stepped inside as soon as the doors opened.

Heading up to the seventh floor, she emerged and began walking towards her office.

Stepping out from behind her desk as soon as she saw Sarah walking towards her office door, her secretary shook her head.  Ms Murphy wants to see you up in her office, I was told it was urgent.

Turning round, she started back towards the elevator doors.

Rushing forward from the adjacent passage leading to another office, a dishevelled blonde almost slammed into her.

Following Sarah to the elevator, Nina Arkov reached the button first.  Taking a step back as the elevator started on the way up, she glanced at Sarah standing next to her.  Don’t tell me, the eleventh floor.

Sarah turned her head a little, The Queen Bitch wants to see you too?

Stepping inside the elevator compartment first, Nina got to the eleventh floor button before Sarah and pressed it.

The compartment beginning to rise, Nina remained staring at the closed metal doors.  So, how are the kids?

Fine.  Sarah gave Nina a quick glance as she answered.

And Martin?

There was a brief pause before Sarah replied, We’re thinking of having a second honeymoon.

As the doors opened, Nina hesitated before stepping out.  That’s just peachy.

Getting off the elevator first, Sarah hurried to stay ahead of Nina as they both competed to reach the glass door before the other.

Elyse Jenson raised her bronze haired head as Sarah managed to enter the outer office first with Nina close behind, You’re both to go straight in.

Almost breaking into a run to get to the inner door before her competition, Nina turned the handle and stepped inside.

The woman with short black hair turned away from her office window, returning to the chair behind her desk as Nina and Sarah entered.  About time you both got here.  Waiting for them to reach the other side of her desk, Janine Murphy looked up at them.  It’s about the Wagner account, there are rumours that Hart Advertising are attempting to poach it right from under us.  She leaned back in her chair, Since you were both instrumental in finalising the original contract I will be expecting you to accompany me to Los Angeles in an effort to save the account.

Sarah was the first to respond, I can be ready to go first thing in the morning.

A glare from Janine and Nina decided not to say anything.

Janine stood up, The plane will be leaving at this afternoon and I expect both of you to be there promptly.  That is all.  Remaining silent as she watched them both leave, she made for the office door and made Elyse look up as she emerged.

Is there anything you need, Ms Murphy?

Pausing by Elyse’s small desk, Janine made no attempt to even look at her, speaking in her best threatening tone.  I trust that you’ll have no problem accompanying me.

Chapter Three

Standing by one of the windows in the empty store room, the sandy haired man in combat armour kept his attention focused on the warehouse opposite.

Your coffee, Sir.

Allowing himself the distraction of glancing at the champagne blonde haired woman with a private’s insignia on her body armour as she walked away, Brigadier Randall Levine took hold of the crude mug made by Major Chalmers’ eldest daughter.  Thank you, Moulton.

Taking a sip from the mug, he turned his attention back to the window, waiting for any sign of activity.

Apart from taking regular sips of his coffee, he stood there almost motionless for the next thirteen minutes.

Watching the van come into view and park outside the large wooden doors, Levine waited until one of the occupants had emerged and began opening the doors for the van to drive through.  They’re here.  Removing his Colt 380 from the holster on his belt, he glanced at the man with the shaved head sitting behind a nearby table containing the architectural blueprints for the warehouse opposite.  Chalmers, let the lads know I want them ready to mobilise in ten minutes.


Stepping out of the bedroom in the small flat, Jimmy Garson saw the packed suitcase placed upright near the door and then looked across at Shannon Taylor standing near the electric fire.

So you’re really buggering off to America.

It’s only for three months, sweetie.  The woman with long straw coloured hair made an attempt to approach him, but he took a step back away from her.  Can’t you understand how few students get the opportunity to study under an artist like Faulkner and how lucky I am to get this chance?

Avoiding getting too close to her when he made for the front door, Jimmy opened it and gave her a cold lingering stare.  Then go.

Come on, sweetie, don’t be like this.

He remained by the open door, I’m not going to hang around for months without shag waiting for you to realise we had something great.

Shannon made another attempt to approach him, but again he drew back.  Sweetie?

Pushing the suitcase out onto the cold concrete on the other side of the door with his foot, he held the door ready to close it once she was outside.  What are you waiting for?  Go.

There was a brief moment when she considered saying something else, but remained silent at the last moment.  She tried not looking at the anger on his face as she walked outside.  Picking up the suitcase, the tears began flowing as she heard the door slam shut behind her.


Lifting a crying Rachel out of the back of the van, a dark skinned woman carried her to a metal cage almost hidden behind several stacked crates and lowered her inside.  Closing the barred lid, Krista fastened the padlock to prevent the girl from making any kind of attempt to open it from inside.

Turning away from the cage, Krista fell to her knee as the wooden double doors leading outside exploded into splinters.

Swinging round to see what was happening, a small hole appeared in her forehead while the back of her black hair erupted in a crimson fountain.

Falling backwards onto the concrete, a small trickle of blood began to flow into one of her still open eyes.

Looking up from the desk she was leaning over when she heard the gunfire, Mercedes glanced at the automatic pistol on the top of a filing cabinet.

As soon as she started to move for the gun, she glanced at the soldier standing in the open doorway to the small office, the barrel of his weapon aimed straight towards her.

During the brief seconds she was certain she was going to die, Mercedes thought about all those never to come moments.

A silver haired man grabbed the soldier from behind, pulling him back as a spray of bullets hit the wall inches away from Mercedes’ face.  Holding the soldier by the throat, he dragged the blade of a knife deep across his skin, leaving a trail of gushing blood.

Retrieving the soldier’s weapon after he had fallen to the floor, the silver haired man glanced at Mercedes.  Bryan and Julian are already in the van, they’re just waiting for you.

Mercedes paused before passing him, What about you?

Raising the dead soldier’s gun, he shook his head.  Somebody has to hold these bastards off.

Running towards the side of the van, Mercedes glanced back as the side door was pulled open, hearing the gunfire.

Feeling Bryan grabbing her arm to pull her inside the van, she saw the silver haired man’s chest being ripped apart by the barrage of gunfire from several of the soldiers before Bryan slammed the van door shut.

Watching the van speed out through the shattered doors of the warehouse, Levine turned his attention towards the man with the silver hair who was still kneeling upright, blood streaming from the wounds covering his chest and dripping from his mouth.

Raising his Colt, Levine approached him and fired point blank into his forehead.  Glancing back at the soldiers that were gathering around him, he never looked back as the silver haired man slumped down onto the concrete.  Make a full sweep on the building, make sure we haven’t missed any of them.


Sitting in the back of her father’s car without saying a word, Rasha Kalila was almost completely covered by her burqa with only her face exposed.

Stopping the car just outside the main entrance to the airport, her father glanced back from the front seat.  Don’t forget to make sure you’re more properly dressed before you meet Mr Karif in Los Angeles.

Rasha bowed her head, Yes, Father.

Climbing out of the car, her father opened the rear door for her.  And remember, the rest of us will be over in a few days for the wedding.

Stepping out of the car, Rasha kept her face bowed.  Yes, Father.

He handed her the plane tickets, Remember, I want you to be dressed appropriately before you meet Mr Karif.

Rasha gave the same reply as the previous two times she was given instructions.

Her father returned to the driver’s door of the car, Now I’ll get you through customs and make sure you don’t miss the flight.

After waiting for him to lock the car doors, Rasha followed behind her father as he began making for the airport doors which opened automatically as he reached them.

Chapter Four

Approaching the doors to an old abandoned brewery, the athletic redhead with a scar above and below her left discoloured eye gave the tour bus in the distance a quick glance with the other, watching the visitors to the Bahamas boarding.

Redirecting her attention back to the entrance to the rundown brewery, Jess Anwar entered and headed up the stairs.  Reaching a closed door, she pushed it open, tightening her grip on the strap of the holdall she was carrying she was carrying, glancing at the ginger haired man in the brightly coloured Hawaiian shirt and his two armed associates behind him.  You got what I asked for, Marco?

He nodded towards a case resting on a dust covered table, Everything you asked for, it’s all in there.  Now, what about the money?

"I’d prefer to check for

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