Werewolf Hunting Rules.

Chapter 58

God knows how Faslag and the military doctor got there, and disappeared without a trace in the corridor in less than half a minute.

Fortunately, they still left some smell.

Clayton ran as hard as he could in the crowd, but because of his tall stature, it became difficult to avoid others and not to hit him.

In fact, before he hit anyone, the crowd was already in chaos.Nurses dragged carts full of medicines and buckets and tools against the wall, and the water in the buckets was thrown out.The nurse tried to stop him but changed his mind and dodged to the sides. The crippled man got off the wheelchair with one leg and left the mobility aid in the middle of the road.
If it goes on like this, it will definitely cause some chaos.

For this reason, Creighton slowed down a lot.

But those pungent smells of medicine and pus and blood are also destroying his sense of smell and diluting the traces of smell.

Quick and rhythmic footsteps sounded from Clayton's side and rear. He turned his head and saw Marie Etta passing him from the side, crossing the crowd with two long legs, without relying on any superior sense of smell at all.

That's right, although there are many passages inside the military hospital, there is only one stable.

As a cavalry officer, Farslag Koules can ride a horse no matter how bad he is, and his character is by no means like a person who is willing to walk on two legs, and the horses of the carriage will be tied to the stable when they are not in use. inside.

As long as they guard the stables, they can prevent each other from leaving.

Clayton also quickly realized this, and rushed out following Marie Etta's route.

The yellow-haired officer and the military doctor probably didn't take the usual route, and went through the window directly, much faster than Clayton expected.

By the time Mary and Clayton arrived at the stables, they had already ridden out of the hospital gate, just passing the corner in front of them, and they hadn't noticed anyone following behind.

Marie Etta bit her lips tightly as she watched their backs go away.

Behind her, Clayton didn't care so much, walked towards the direction they came out, and sneaked behind the stableman who was closing the backyard gate, knocked him unconscious with one punch, and stuffed his collarbone in the back of his neck. A five pound note as compensation.

He broke into the backyard, and there were seven or eight army horses inside.

Clayton directly removed the two slot doors, and brought out the horse inside with his arms around his neck.

"Hey boy, let's go for a run."

Although the horses were not yet saddled, Clayton had been riding unsaddled since childhood, and that was no hindrance.

He mounted one, led the other by the mane, and let go before Mary.

"If you can ride, let's catch up together."

Looking up at Clayton's face, the cavalry's daughter got on her horse.

Two people who dare to kill, two long guns that can be fired at any time, and two strong military horses.

Clayton suddenly felt that he no longer lacked anything.

His heart was beating lightly, and the feeling of the past suddenly came back.

They tucked their legs between the horse's belly, using whistles instead of the cavalry's iron whistle, urging the mounts to catch up with the people in front.

Mary took out a revolver from her arms and threw it to Clayton, who caught it firmly on the fast-moving horse:
"Is this your gun?"

Clayton glanced at the gun, and instead of answering her, he inserted the gun directly into the gap in his belt.

"Then I'll take it for granted," said Mary.

In order to catch up with the two horses, they used their legs hard.

The saddle is not only the protection of the cavalry, but also the protection of the horse.Dorn horses are different from Taunton horses. Without the control of saddles and reins, these horses can easily choose to run explosively, quickly exhausting all their physical strength, and let others slaughter them.

But they don't have to chase for a long time, the time to erupt once is enough.

On the main road, Faslag heard the sound of new horseshoes behind him and couldn't help but look back, and suddenly became nervous when he saw that it was the sheriff.Clayton saw him say something to the medic, who looked back, then took the reins and sped off in the other direction, while Fasslag urged the horses to gallop in the opposite direction.

Without any communication, Clayton and Mary each lock onto one for stalking.

The werewolf didn't know if the sheriff caught the military doctor, but he did push Faslag into a corner.

It seems that due to lack of experience and participation in the chase battle, the opponent's decision-making has gradually become confused, and he rode his horse into an area that he himself was not familiar with.

Clayton followed Fasslag into an uninhabited area. This is an abandoned quarry in the city. There are a lot of gravel on the ground, which is very unfriendly to horses.

Faslag's mount soon fell down because of his poor horsemanship, and a long wound was cut on the abdomen by the gravel.

The yellow-haired middle-aged officer rolled a few times on the ground, got up in embarrassment, and frantically and terrified drew his pistol and shot at Clayton's horse.

To be honest, if it wasn't for the blessing of luck, then his marksmanship is really not bad.

With just one shot, a lead bullet the size of a little finger went into the horse's eye. Clayton only heard a long, choking hiss from the horse under his crotch, and the subsequent hoof lift almost threw him off. He collapsed to the left, pinning one of his legs.

This situation is very unfavorable for ordinary cavalry.

Being pinned down by an animal weighing six or seven hundred pounds usually requires the help of a teammate to get out.

But Clayton pulled out his leg with his own strength, leaving Fasslag dumbfounded, and he pointed his gun at the former lieutenant.

"Don't move! Don't come near me!"

Clayton also pointed his long rifle at him: "You are the one, put down the gun, and tell me who you have made a deal with!"

If destroying the corpse and obstructing the coroner of the church were ordered by his superiors, Fasslag would never run away. He would turn back confidently and call for people to openly lecture the magistrate, because someone would immediately back him up.

But working with the Holy Grail is different.

No matter what the spider priest can bring, as a murderer, Faslag's involvement with her must always be kept secret, and there is a high probability that his superiors will not know about this matter.

Because of this, and because of his mood at the moment, Clayton was somewhat unscrupulous.

Fasslag looked at the long gun that Clayton was holding up, and swallowed: "Assaulting soldiers is against the law, you best stop this piece of shit."

"I think someone broke the law before me."

Fasslag didn't catch a glimpse of anyone in this area from the corner of his eye, and suddenly felt joy in his heart. He wanted to keep his secret silent forever.

"Then you will die here!"

Without hesitation, he directly pulled the trigger with his finger.

Creighton sidled away from the muzzle of the firing gun when he noticed the force of his fingers.

As soon as the flames flashed, the lead bullet smashed into the ground, leaving an obvious black hole.

Clayton didn't mean to bear with him. The opponent also used a revolver, which had a high error tolerance rate and could shoot continuously, which was extremely threatening.

So after Fasslag's first shot went wrong, Creighton also quickly shot at him, hitting Fasslag's fleshy thigh with one shot.

The officer fell to the ground clutching his legs, and the wailing sound was not as good as the horse's true feelings, and the weapons were thrown aside.

People who have not experienced the battlefield can't overcome the pain very well. Faslag is not even so clear about the importance of the battle. If the old guys who were stationed with Creighton in the same station, they will definitely persist even if they are injured. Lie down until the bullet is empty.

"Athena Pruger, have you seen that woman?" Clayton walked slowly towards him, holding the gun.

"I've never heard of that name!"

Faslag held his wound and gritted his teeth. His face was pale and sweaty, and his hair was like dyed yellow cotton. He looked like a clay doll that had just been drenched in the rain.

Clayton lifted his chin with the barrel of the long gun first, and then put the muzzle of the gun against his head:

"Then why do you want to hide the traces on the corpse?"

"Do you dare to kill me?" Faslag pressed his forehead against the barrel of the gun.

Clayton didn't answer, but retracted the gun, and then reloaded the gun chamber again. This action alone made Fasslag's face paler.

(End of this chapter)