CLAN

by Harry Shannon

  Hombre had been completely forced to his knees by the wolves holding on to his two forearms. He was effectively shackled. To Doc Cherry's astonishment, a huge male wolf emerged from the mayhem and approached Hombre, snarling. He moved like a snake, weaving from side to side; almost as if he wanted Hombre's terror to increase. Then he snapped his jaws and removed a large chunk of meat from Hombre's right leg. The gang leader bellowed in rage and pain. But instead of immediately following the bite with another, as any predator would normally do, the wolf backed away and sat down.

  Amazing, Cherry thought. It wants him to suffer.

  Hombre seemed to realize what was happening to him was a kind of justice, and the horror of that overwhelmed the pain. His face became childlike and he began to bawl like a little boy. No animal would do this, only man. Just then the wolf took another chunk from his thigh while the others held him still. Hombre began to jabber foolishly. His mind was crumbling.

  Across the pavement, Lobo swung his tire iron so recklessly that he momentarily lost his balance and turned to his right. In a flash one of the grey wolves got behind him and leapt upwards, crunching down on his genitalia with powerful jaws. The biker bared his teeth and went rigid. The agony was so severe he'd been paralyzed. Meanwhile, the wolf chewed upwards into his lower belly. One of the dead bikers had fallen face-first into the huge fire. His flesh had blistered and was already cooking; the stench of burning hair and fat rose up and polluted the mountain air.

  The chubby one with long, stringy hair had found another gun and used it. Three of the wolves were wounded or dying at his feet. Still, he clearly knew he was losing the battle. His friends were dead all around him and one of the wolves was already eating his right hand. Weak from loss of blood, he forced himself to bring the gun up and inserted it into his own mouth. The POP was nearly lost in the cacophony of grunts, howls and screams of agony. His brains flew up the rock face and dripped back down in a grey and red smear. Cherry looked away.

  Finally, it was over.

  The largest wolf ripped out Hombre's throat and bathed in the fountain of crimson. He threw back his muzzle and howled OoooooOooooo at the full, Buck Moon. The rest of the pack answered him, their voices proclaiming victory. The leader went to the downed grey, the one who had been tortured. The apparent alpha nuzzled him in what seemed to be a display of respect, even affection.

  And then the old grey died.

  Doc Cherry blinked. Something seemed to ripple through the dead wolf's grey fur; something that made it…change. The grey became a mottled grey and pink, the surface still stained by blood. The flesh wound shrank in size and rapidly vanished. The body contorted abruptly, flopped like a fish and then lay still. In death, it had completely altered form. The hair vanished. It was now a man.

  And even from as far above as the rocky promontory, Doc Cherry still recognized him. It was Poppa Zack, the town's folklore musician. His face looked composed and peaceful in the moonlight.

  The huge Alpha male backed away from the corpse. He grunted and began to eat Hombre. The scene settled down into a nearly silent, grotesque feeding. Cherry whimpered. The gulping and smacking sounds, coupled with that stench of burning flesh, were nauseating. Cherry looked at Jake and Jennifer. They were watching without emotion.

  Another wolf died; this one near the corpse of the kid with pistols. The body went through the same weird, shocking process until it was a naked woman with full breasts. She lay sideways in the dirt with her hair covering her face, so Doc Cherry did not recognize who she was in human form.

  Someone touched Cherry's ankle and she jumped. Jennifer Fowler and Jake had scrambled backwards, almost into the brush. They motioned for her to follow as soundlessly as possible.

  And this time, Doc Cherry gladly complied.

  30

  They heard the wolves calling from the foothills. Case and Kelly immediately jumped back into their clothes. The fact that the howling sounded much closer than it had been only a half hour before needed no explanation. Case hugged Kelly close and tried to come up with a course of action should they be discovered. None of his ideas worked. Then the sound of gunshots and faint screams reached their ears. Kelly began to cry. Case felt a wave of hopelessness pass over him. The world had turned violent and surreal. It was bound to be a long wait until morning. They were alone and completely outnumbered.

  "What is going on out there?"

  "A pitched battle of some kind," Case said, quietly. "And I think the humans are losing."

  They listened as the bestial sounds increased. Then the gunfire and shouting gradually faded away. Kelly shivered. "Case, what are these…monsters?"

  He searched for an honest answer. "In a way, I think they're just like us. Or maybe the way we used to be, a million years ago."

  Kelly shook her head. "You can't mean that."

  "Everybody on two legs remembers being on four at the cellular level," Case said. "And one hell of a lot of folks prefer their steak blood-rare."

  She pulled away from him, slapped his arm playfully. "Stop it, Joe. Now you're scaring me."

  "I'm sorry, but I'm half serious. I know I have a violent streak in me. It's a mile wide and runs at least as deep. It always has. Whatever that is has gotten loose on more than one occasion."

  "Okay, but…"

  "So maybe that's what causes us to jump out of a car after a fender bender and beat the crap out of each other, or go to war with such obvious relish. Maybe these…werewolves are just more honest about it than we are."

  Kelly still seemed dubious. "Case, you can't really be saying there's no difference between us and a bunch of animals."

  "No, I'm saying that sometimes the difference is minimal."

  They listened for a while, but the woods went oddly quiet after the huge outburst of noise and gunfire, except for fits of barking and baying at the moon. Case pictured the creatures feeding on the dead human remains and shuddered before he could stop himself.

  "What?"

  "Nothing."

  "Dear Lord," Kelly sighed. "What do we do now?"

  "We come up with a plan. Look, we don't know what the hell is actually going on down there, but it's clear we may have to react. And soon."

  By now the rest of the noises had faded away. Then Case heard what he instinctively knew to be howls of victory from the surviving wolves, followed by a complete and even more disturbing silence.

  "What do you mean by react?"

  "Kelly, if they come up this way it means they are looking for us. If that happens, we may have to figure out an escape hatch. Or how to fight back. Or maybe I'll just go out there alone and try to lead them away from this place—from you."

  "You're not leaving me here alone, damn it." She hugged him. "We're going to Switzerland together some day."

  "Kelly, I may not have a choice."

  She got to her feet. "We always have a choice. We can be animals or human beings, and we can run or stand and fight. So we fight. What do we have to battle them with besides your gun?"

  Case hopped up and moved toward the dusty kitchen. "Great minds think alike. I saw some stuff we could use." He reached down for one of the lanterns. Kelly followed him through the living room. She went into the kitchen.

  Case went down cement steps into the small basement below the cabin. There was nothing in the tiny cement area; just a small window above some storage shelves covered with junk automobile parts and ancient magazines from the 1960s. Case closed the door behind him. There was no lock, so he propped a chair in front of it.

  "Joe, come look."

  He joined Kelly in the kitchen. They found some steak knives in a drawer, useful but difficult to carry safely. Case set the lantern on the sink and opened the cupboard. He took out a broom and a mop. He unscrewed the head of the broom while Kelly watched him with a puzzled expression. She understood when he began trying to notch one end. She took a steak knife and hacked at the straw on the end of the broom until it, too could be turned into an effective weapon. They foun
d some glue, duct tape; some wrapping twine and a few other useful items in a utility drawer.

  Moments later, Case had fit the end of each pole with two steak knives, glued into notches, wrapped around with twine and duct tape. He put the wickedly tipped spears in the living room, near the staircase. There he paused to listen again, but the mountains remained silent.

  The pantry contained a broken down washer/dryer combo and some gardening tools. Case did what he could to sharpen the trowels and brought most of what looked useful back out into the living room.

  "Joe, look at this."

  Kelly had opened a small closet located beneath the staircase. She held up the lantern and reached inside. She brought out a quiver of hunting arrows with wickedly barbed tips; they were packed into a round carrying case. Case set the shovel down on the floor and jogged over to stand near her. She reached inside again and removed a metal crossbow and a longbow. Someone had used these to find food, decades prior.

  "Bingo."

  Case knelt to examine the crossbow. It was camouflaged and had seen some use; the green and brown surface was dented and scratched. The entire bow wore a thick coat of dust. He blew on it and waved his hand.

  "Can you shoot that?"

  "My Dad took me hunting and fishing a lot as a kid," Case said. "I mostly used a rifle or maybe a fishing pole, but one summer he brought along some bows. I did okay with targets. I've never killed with one, but I can damn sure shoot it." He kissed her on the cheek. "And the best thing about these bastards is that they are damned near silent, at least from quite a ways off. Nice find."

  The long bow wasn't strung. Case had to put all of his strength into bending it, which was a good sign. The bowstring seemed to hold okay, despite not having been used for many years.

  The quiver of arrows and the two bows went into the growing pile of weapons lying at the foot of the ladder leading upstairs. Case sat down on the floor to drink some water. Kelly was making one last tour through the drawers in the kitchen. And that's when they heard it echoing through the trees.

  OooooOOOOooooo…

  Case got to his feet. "That's even closer than it was the last time," he said. "They're definitely hunting us. Twice as hard, because we know their secret."

  Kelly ran back into the room to be closer to him. "Maybe you were right and we need to run for it."

  Case looked down at the stack of weapons. He handed the spears to Kelly. "No, I said that before we found all of this. Let's get everything upstairs and look around again. I'm thinking it might make sense to pull the ladder up, close ourselves in and fight them off, and at least survive until the sun comes up."

  Kelly started up the ladder clumsily, a spear in each hand. "Does the sunlight make them change back, or is that just a legend?"

  "Damned if I know, but it's bound to make us feel a whole lot better."

  They moved all of the sharpened tools—the bows and arrows and knives and spears—up the ladder into the loft. Also a couple of hammers and some roofing nails. Case took the water, a roll of toilet paper and some canned food he'd found in the kitchen and packed them in a cardboard box with a metal church key, the glue, string and duct tape and some extra screwdrivers. He carried the box one-handed up the ladder and left it near the bed.

  The howling came again, closer still. But now it sounded like a smaller number of wolves. Case listened and heard an answer from the larger group. Some had remained behind, probably where the battle had been fought. He wondered why. What did they do, bury their dead?

  He grabbed a hammer and some nails. "Stay here."

  Kelly was already moving with a hammer and nails of her own. "I'll get the windows." As Case moved back down the ladder he heard the pounding as she nailed the frames tighter than they had been before. They had already been boarded up against the severe winter weather.

  Case slid down the ladder, feet barely touching the rungs. He checked all the doors and windows and drove several nails into the frames wherever they looked thick enough to need the insurance. He closed the shutters and hammered nails into the wood. The noise came again, from perhaps a mile or less away.

  "Time to stop making a racket."

  Kelly finished what she was doing and went silent. Case, trembling from exertion, surveyed the closed and shuttered cabin. They were out of time. It was makeshift, but it would have to do.

  He turned and crawled back up the ladder to the loft. He pulled the ladder up after him and laid it sideways on the wooden flooring, then pounded several nails into the side of the frame to keep it upright. Kelly saw what he intended; to make one final barrier. She started pounding nails from the other end. Case wound some twine and duct tape around a few extra nails in the wall and secured the ladder as best he could. Kelly drove one last nail into the floor.

  "Hold it. Quiet."

  They heard the werewolves not a half-mile down the curving driveway; their paws thumping the dirt, whines carrying in the cool night air. That meant the wolves had heard them, too. Case looked at Kelly. Her face was worn and weary and washed out by the small light from the lantern. He shrugged and forced a smile of encouragement. They were committed to a course of action and he saw no point in second-guessing. He turned down his lantern to the bare minimum and motioned for Kelly to do the same with hers. She moved closer to him and they sat on the floor, sipping water.

  "Stay hydrated," he whispered. "It's going to be a long night."

  "They're close, aren't they?"

  "I'd say they're outside right about now."

  Her breath caressed his ear. "Can they catch our scent?"

  "They can probably smell our footprints."

  "Do we just sit here?"

  "Yeah, pretty much."

  "Are you sure there's nothing else we can do?"

  "Not now," he said, still in a low whisper. "The rest is up to them."

  There came a scratching at the front door. Case felt his stomach tighten. The sound came again, followed by some whining and a coughing bark from two different places in the yard. Then they heard faint steps across the front porch as perhaps two or three of the large animals began to circle the cabin, looking for a way in. Kelly hugged Case. He drew her close and kissed her forehead. All they could do now was wait.

  More scratching.

  The small group was probably scouting for the pack, and they seemed excited to have caught the scent of their prey. They circled the small cabin again, their thick nails clacking on the wooden slats of the porch. One of them threw his body against the front door with a loud thump. Kelly bit her knuckle but remained silent. The sound came again. Case knew timber wolves could weigh an awful lot, but wasn't much worried about them breaking down the door. Not as reinforced as it was.

  One of the werewolves started pawing at the back of the cabin. Case moved his right leg a bit, for it had started to go numb. The wolf went silent. Jesus, is their hearing that acute? Apparently it was. The excited yapping sound came again. The werewolf pawed frantically at something near the back of the house.

  They heard the sound of glass breaking.

  "Oh, shit." Case said it aloud before he could stop himself.

  "What was that?" Kelly whispered.

  "The basement window." The werewolves had smashed the small window near the foot of the basement steps and crawled through. Within seconds he heard them throwing themselves against the wooden door. He knew the chair he had propped there would not stop them for long.

  There came the snap of splintering wood and enthusiastic moans and yips as large bodies tumbled into the kitchen below.

  The wolves were inside the cabin.

  31

  Case turned the lantern up slightly so he'd have a bit more light. He set it close to the edge of the loft, on the attic side of the upright ladder, and flattened himself against the wooden paneling on the wall. He clutched the crossbow in his hands, aimed at the ceiling. He grunted with effort as he pulled a barbed hunting arrow into notched position. He checked on Kelly. She was tying her hair up
to keep it out of her eyes. She had a spear in one hand. With her face smeared with dust and dirt she looked like an Amazon preparing for combat.

  Case took a deep breath and gave her a quick nod of respect. If we get out of this alive, girl, I intend to take you very damned seriously. Kelly braced her back against the edge of the dusty queen bed and raised the spear.

  Large paws thumped across linoleum and then bare wood and area rugs. Case peered over the edge of the loft and dimly saw three large wolves, two dark and one grey, circling the furniture below. As if feeling his gaze, the grey looked up and stared right into his eyes. They were feral, yet human. Animal, yet man.

  The giant jaw dropped until the grey showed his huge, white teeth—almost as if he were grinning.

  Case whirled and fired. The twang of the arrow leaving the crossbow seemed astonishingly loud to him. The creature had amazing reflexes, for the arrow sank an inch into the floor precisely where he'd been a split-second before. Case instantly decided to save the arrows for fighting at closer range. The werewolves vanished into the shadows beneath the loft. Now they knew it would be a battle.

  The room below went silent, except for the faint panting and some barely audible whining sounds. The noises were spaced, like communications; clearly, the creatures were discussing what to do next. Case sought Kelly's eyes and held up one finger, cautioning her to remain silent. Several moments passed.

  The large grey remained out of sight, but with a snarl one of the other wolves raced into and through the darkened room. Case tried in vain to follow with his eyes but the wolf was astonishingly fast. It went over and under furniture as if toying with the watching humans but then made its move. The thing was up on the back of the couch before Case could react.

  "Kelly!"

  It was a male. The wolf leapt at the edge of the loft, caught it with his giant forepaws. He started to pull himself up onto their level. Kelly stabbed with the spear but missed. She tried again, but the wolf made a barking sound and showed his teeth. Kelly froze for a precious second. The creature pulled his hind legs up and started to scramble over the sideways ladder. Case kicked with his left foot and shook the frame. The wolf lost his balance and slipped backwards. It shot him an angry look, and then saw that he was raising the crossbow again…