Mike Wheeler Novels & Stories

"Well, the shoe size matched. I don't know any other person who's your enemy who would drive joy from ending someone close to you other than the Wright's." The seed successfully sown, Hank chuckles inside his head, watching all of the expressions that pass by Mike's face after that revelation. Without another word, Mike stalks away, into the car he came there with and drove away. "Tut... Tut... Tut... Man's about to go on a killing spree." He mutters to himself as he also walks over to his own car, his evil bar exhausted for the day. Whistling behind the wheels, he drives away, happy that it's all going according to plan.

To insure that hunters didn't get to close to pack lands there was a treaty made to keep humans out of their lands. The sound of heavy steps and snapping branches gets louder as a large silver wolves emerges from the shadows. "I'lol only need a few minutes to pack up my gear" bending over I pick my wet shirt up and go to put it back on. The sound of bones cracking makes me turn back around to see Nixon standing in front of me completely naked. "Why are you out here" he asks. I don't answer. Taking a pair of basketball shorts out of my bag I toss them to him, he slips them on and walks closer to me.

Nevertheless, none of them flinched, as the moment Mike exited the car, the dozens of his troops who had been hiding earlier began their attack. Gunfire echoed back and forth, trying to protect Mike's limited movements. He and Greg worked together to move toward the door while continuing to attack to protect each other. "Go inside, sir. I'll hold them off from here!" Mike pressed the turbo button on the handle of his wheelchair, causing his only means of transportation to move quickly. Unfortunately, the intelligence and capabilities of the device couldn’t match its safety system. The wheelchair couldn’t prevent a stumble, causing Mike to fall off the device he was riding.

The vice president, usually so imposing, now looked like nothing more than a grieving father. “Mike led the rescue team and held off the terrorist group for three days. He successfully got all the hostages out. But during the final withdrawal, he stayed behind to cover an injured teammate and was caught in a close-range blast.” Felix looked at the man lying in the bed, his body wrapped in bandages. Mike’s face was drained of all color. Only the movement on the heart monitor proved he was still alive. It had been a long time since Felix had truly admired anyone.

“Yeah, that’s Logan Carter.” There was a round of Oh's and ahs from the group at the window. I heard my phone buzz on the table with a notification. I closed my laptop down and grabbed my things. A lot of the office stayed at the window watching as I exited. I must admit they were correct; he looked exceptional. He was wearing dark jeans, a crisp white T-shirt and a black leather jacket. He was leaning against the bonnet of a car I didn’t recognise.