Beneath a Winter Moon

by Shawson M Hebert

  The six men who went back to get Micheolev’s body found that the rope dangled free, frayed and with much of it missing. Micheolev’s body could not be found.

  People in that area of Romania still believe that Micheolev is roaming the woods, waiting for innocent victims to wander by.

  He managed to spend those college years without bringing investigation or trouble for himself. It had been a great time in his long life and provided him with a new perspective…life among the young. He was a century old and yet to live and work beside the young men and women made him know youth once more...if only for a time. Jeremiah, reinvigorated and inspired to live a normal life, redoubled his efforts to tame the wolf inside him. For many years, he did keep the beast tame and did manage to completely hide his alter ego. He set up a lucrative law practice, greased the right palms, made the right investments, and then reaped their rewards as decades passed. He became a rich man…and he had a great many friends. Time worked against Jeremiah, however, as he watched his friends grow old. Their faces wrinkled and their bodies slowed while Jeremiah remained unchanged. Inevitably, their remarks changed from teasing rhetoric to obvious resentment…and eventually to suspicion.

  Jeremiah ultimately grew weary of changing homes, changing lives, and changing identities. That is what drove him to the mountains. There, Jeremiah could sometimes let the wolf run free without the fear that he would lead destruction down upon himself. If necessary, he could reign in the monster on the few nights each month when he could not prevent the change. But in truth, his time here was far less that of his other homes. He had been such a fool, he knew, to believe he could take in Jeff Parker and that everything would be alright. At first, Jeremiah believed it would be a difficult task to convince the man of the second chance on life that now lay before him, and the possibility of immortality. But Jeff Parker had taken to the wolf from the very first change, allowing the beast to consume his very soul. With each transformation, Parker became more reckless, more violent, and more…inhuman. Finally, near the end, Parker left the cabin altogether and lived in the forest, transforming into the wolf every night. Jeremiah had hunted the man while he was in human form, failing to track him down, and had wanted his alter ego to take care of Parker while he was in wolf form, but Jeremiah could not control the wolf inside him. The beast that was Jeremiah had apparently wanted only to push Parker away from what he regarded as his own territory, but when Parker failed to heed the warnings, the beast sensed the danger. Parker had to die. Unfortunately, the damage had been done long before Parker’s death…and Jeremiah’s easy getaway was in question. No, it’s worse. I’ll be damned lucky to get out of this at all, he thought.

  Jeremiah stopped at the hallway’s entrance. “I’m going to change shirts. This one is quite drenched from the snow.” He had placed a kettle of water on the portable stove and Thomas and Delmar sat at the table. “That kettle will whistle when it’s ready,” Jeremiah said. He had just finished lighting the oil lamps throughout the cabin, and the men were now surrounded by the warm, campfire like glow that the old-fashioned lamps provided. He quickly entered the room and lit the two oil lamps on the wall, and then opened the only closet. He knelt inside and moved file boxes and shoes, trying to keep as quiet as possible. “Ah,” he whispered. “There she is.” At his fingertips was a small Fusebox, for the few electrical appliances that he owned, save a few light fixtures here and there, were in the kitchen…and the radio cabinet along with the small electric burner was directly on the other side of the wall. He silently cursed when he found he was unable to read the markings beside the fuses. Finding a way to disconnect the radio without affecting the small electric stove was paramount. He moved the table beside the antique rope bed and found his flashlight.

  Lighting, water heater, stove. He could have disabled the generator, he knew, but he needed some time for things to settle. He couldn’t go running back outside without spending a few minutes time with them. He’d disable it soon enough. The fuse that Jeremiah searched for was not among the three on the left side of the box. The top right fuse read Pfaff, indicating the sewing machine in the corner of his bedroom. The machine was operable by foot pump or by electric motor. “There you are, my darling,” Jeremiah said, smiling, finally seeing what he was looking for. He placed the flashlight on the floor and quickly unscrewed the small fuse whose markings read Radio, Stereo, Turntable. He stood up and pulled his knife from the sheath on his belt, using the tip of it to pry away the heavy copper connections on the sides of the fuse, then he knelt down and screwed it back into place. “Perfect,” he whispered.

  Jeremiah slipped on a cotton t-shirt and then began to slide an arm through the sleeve of a red and blue flannel shirt when he changed his mind. Let’s give them the complete package, he thought. He threw the flannel shirt on his bed and grabbed the long-sleeve buckskin shit. He finished buttoning up, then turned to the mirror on the back of the door. “Something is missing,” he said to himself. He looked at himself and then realized what it was. He reached into the closet, opened a small chest of drawers a pulled out a new leather thong for his hair. The ponytail topped off the look he was going for. Why not have some fun with them while they are here, he mused.

  Thomas and Delmar were keeping their voices low, and both ceased when Jeremiah came back into the room. Jeremiah noticed, and knew it was not because of the complete buckskin ensemble. They could not hide their suspicions if it meant their very lives…and it just might. He saw that neither of the men had noticed the glow had faded from the green light on the radio. It will just be a matter of time before they figure it out. In the mean time, I’ve got to figure out a reason to get the hell out of here. If the storm held until nightfall, all would be well, but of course, he could not count on that. The weather was unpredictable, more so with the convergence of the three winter storms than at anytime Jeremiah could remember. The skies were just as apt to clear at a moments notice, as they were to continue with the near whiteout conditions that currently swept through the mountains. His thoughts were broken up by the whistle of the kettle.

  “Very nice duds,” Delmar said. “Are those real leather?”

  “Buckskin, actually,” Jeremiah said as he stepped around the table to reach for the kettle. “Proud to say that I make them myself. Used to do it all by hand…but that was a bit much, even for me, so I learned to sew them with a machine. Still, they are very much like the deerskin clothing of the old frontiersmen, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Absolutely.” It was Thomas who answered.

  “And I bet you will also agree that I have an abundance of time on my hands as well as an abundance of…game.” He waived a hand in the air to dismiss any forthcoming reply. “It’s a hobby of mine. I hunt, trap, and make the buckskins when I have the opportunity. Ah, there we go.” He took three cups down from a cabinet, set them on the table, and poured the steaming hot contents of the kettle. “I read a lot, as well. I have a pile of books, floor to ceiling, in my room. Louis L’amour, Larry McMurtry, Bernard Cornwell…mostly historical fiction. I’m forever fascinated how men who have never lived the old life can nevertheless put it down to paper with only a modicum of error.” He sat down next to Thomas, across from Delmar, and lifted the cup to his lips, gently blowing on the steaming liquid, then taking a sip. “Indeed,” he sighed, closing his eyes. “I needed that.”

  Thomas took a sip. “Now that is good tea.” He wondered what Jeremiah had meant by, the old life.

  Jeremiah smiled. He turned to look at Jenny, who still slept on the couch. “Are you sure she is going to be okay?”

  “The sooner we get her out of here, the sooner she can start to get better,” Delmar said. “After what she’s seen and what she’s been through, it is a wonder that she’s able to function at all.”

  Thomas set down his cup and looked at Jeremiah. “How long were you out this morning, Jeremiah? We didn’t see any tracks.”

  Jeremiah leaned back and stretched his arms. “I went out just before daylight
. It was still snowing, though not as bad, and I had to check my traps.”

  “Before dawn?” Delmar asked.

  “Just before, yes. The sun was up before I reached my traps, for what good it did. They were empty.”

  “You didn’t wear much to keep you protected from the snow, never mind the cold,” Thomas said.

  Jeremiah nodded. “I’ve grown exceptionally comfortable with the cold in my years out here. What I had on was fine for me for a few hours.”

  “That’s pretty amazing.”

  “Well, Thomas, if you spent a decade out here you would be the same, I am sure.”

  “I guess so,” Thomas lied, knowing that it was impossible for anyone to grow that accustomed to the cold. He knew there was more to Jeremiah’s morning activities than the Scot cared to admit…but he was not sure that his deception was nefarious in any way.

  Jeremiah saw his way out. “In fact,” he said as he stood up. “That reminds me that I must go and check my northern traps before we’re taken out of here. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving animals in my traps out there to starve themselves—or worse.” He took a coat from a rack and grabbed the gloves that he had worn earlier, then went to the gun cabinet and removed the pistol belt and buckled it around his waist. He picked up the rifle and stopped at the foyer, wrapping a neoprene scarf around his neck. “It’ll take me no more than an hour. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “But what about the storm?” Delmar asked. “It’s pretty bad out there. Are the animals worth it?”

  “To me, they are.” He gave the men a nod, “Enjoy the tea, then.” As he reached the door, he turned as if he had remembered something important. “Your dog, Thomas? Can you come and watch over him? I don’t think he likes me very much.”

  Thomas stood up and went to stand by Jeremiah for a moment. “It’s not that he doesn’t like you. I’m sure it is just a smell or something. Anyway, I’ll get him.” Thomas opened the door and tried to ignore the wind and the snow as he stepped out to stand next to Jack. The dog was wagging his tail and wooing at Thomas as if he were having a great time being chained to the steps. The Husky shook himself, the undulations beginning at the dog’s head and moving down to dissipate at the tail. A moment later, Jeremiah hopped down from the steps and trodded off without a word. A short rumble came from Jack’s throat as Jeremiah leapt past him.

  “Easy, boy. Hey…good news. You can come back inside now that he’s gone…but only for a little while.” Jack wooed loudly as Thomas unclasped the D-ring from the steps.

  Jeremiah stood behind a tree and waited for Thomas to go back inside. Seeing that the door had closed behind Thomas and the dog, Jeremiah skirted quickly back toward the cabin, making a wide arch through the trees. He kept moving until the generator shed was in sight. Quickly, he ran through the deepening snow and into the shed, where he pulled out his small flashlight and peered at the loud machine. He removed a wrench from a small toolbox that sat on a shelf, and yanked the wire free from the generator’s only spark plug. He had to be fast, he knew. It would take them only moments to figure out that the generator was out. He quickly loosened the spark plug and twisted it several times so that it fell free. He could feel the heat through his gloves as he opened the shed door and threw it as far into the trees as he could. He smiled. They would never find it.

  It took only a few minutes for Delmar to notice that the radio was not working and another minute to see that the stove was out as well. Only then was it realized that they could no longer hear the low hum of the generator. Both men donned their Gore-Tex jackets and went outside. Jack had wanted to come, but Thomas commanded him to stay.

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Thomas said loudly over the sound of the wind.

  “Me too,” Delmar answered.

  They reached the shack and noticed that, although there had been no tracks leading from the cabin to the shed, there were indeed fresh tracks looping around from behind. The tracks led straight into the shed.

  Inside, Delmar pulled the mini-flashlight from his pocket and looked at the generator. “Sonofabitch, sonofabitch!”

  “What?” Thomas asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “He took the damned spark plug. He took it! Why the hell would he do that?”

  “Only one reason,” Thomas answered after a moment. “There is only one thing that we…you and I needed it for. Just one thing.”

  “The radio.”

  “Yep.”

  “He’s got something to do with all of this, Thomas. I don’t know how he figures into it, but I am telling you that sonofabitch is the key. He knows what is going on and he knows about that damned thing out there.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me.”

  “We’ve got to get the bastard.”

  “Now wait a minute,” Thomas said. “He’s armed. He might not want to come quietly...assuming we can find him.”

  “He’s got maybe ten minutes on us, and he can’t move an inch without leaving a trail. We can get him. If we don’t, who knows what he might do? Who’s to say he’s running away and not really just sitting out there making plans to come back? He could come back and burn the cabin down around us for all we know.”

  “He could have shot us back there before he left. We were easy pickings. So, hurting us can’t be part of his game plan, whatever it is. He’s probably just running, Delmar. For all we know he has some beef with the law and that’s why he is here in the first place.”

  “He has just cut off our only contact with the outside world. He’s involved in Steven and Daniel’s death somehow…and I’m going after him, Thomas.” Delmar pushed past Thomas and ran out into the snow and back toward the cabin.

  Delmar opened the cabin door and ran to his gear. Jenny sat up. “What’s wrong?”

  “Jeremiah just killed the generator and he has the only thing that can start it up again. Without it, we have no radio.”

  “But we’ve already called for help,” she said.

  Thomas stepped into the cabin. “She’s right; we’ve already told Mountain Rescue where we are.”

  “I’m going after him,” Delmar said. “I don’t mind going alone.”

  Thomas sighed. He knew there was no use. “Half an hour, Delmar. That’s it. After that, you will be on your own. If we don’t catch up to him by then, we turn and come back.”

  Delmar nodded as he slipped on his gloves.

  “Jenny, you bar the door behind us and only let us back in. If Jeremiah comes without us, you just ignore him. He can’t get through that barred door. We will be back in no later than an hour. There will still be plenty of daylight left.” He handed her his rifle. “It’s loaded. If he tries to get in, shoot him.” She stared at him. “Jack is staying with you. I promise that we will be right back. No matter what…we will be right back.”

  Jenny nodded.

  “There is tea in that kettle, Jen. It’s still warm. There are power bars in my backpack if you are hungry.” Thomas slipped his own gloves on and pulled the Gore-Tex hood over his head. He smiled at her. “Don’t worry.” She tried to smile at him as she nodded.

  They picked up Jeremiah’s trail outside the shed. Thomas commented on how quickly Delmar had recovered from the badly bruised ribs, but the big man shrugged it off. Though Thomas hadn’t seen his friend use any medicine, he figured that maybe Delmar had some sort of painkillers of his own.

  The snow was too deep for them to run, so they stepped through the snow as quickly as possible as they followed the tracks into the forest. The trees deflected some of the snowfall and the wind as they silently moved through, careful to stay right on top of Jeremiah’s tracks. They hadn’t traveled very far when they saw something up in the distance…something that did not look like it should be there. Jeremiah’s tracks went to the left of the structure, but Thomas and Delmar could not help but sway off of the trail to get a better look.

  At first, Thomas thought that the structure was some sort of lift used for heavy logs, perhap
s to lift and hold them while bark was stripped, but when he saw the left and right chains, arm rings attached and hanging down. “What the hell is this thing?” he asked.

  Delmar walked around the structure, gawking. “King Kong,” he said.

  “What?”

  “It’s like one of those movies…the thing that they held King Kong in…for the crowds.”

  “Nah can’t be..,” Thomas said as he stood and stared at the structure. He leaned over and wiped snow off of the wooden platform and pointed at the claw marks etched deep into the wood. “God almighty.” He stood up abruptly, then jumped up on the platform and looked around. He found a shirt and some neoprene leggings, frozen solid and stuck to the surface. He reached out and grasped one of the chains and saw where a link had been bent and torn away. There was blood. “God almighty,” he said again.

  Delmar had jumped up to stand next to Thomas. He shook his head in disbelief. “He chained people here? The clothes…he stripped, chained…maybe he tortured people here?”

  Thomas shook his head. “We’ve got to find him. We’ve got to find him, and quick.” Thomas saw Delmar’s puzzled look, so he continued. “He hasn’t been chaining people here. Don’t you see? The thing had shackles on it.” Delmar had been looking closely at the chains. He dropped them and froze. Thomas nodded. “Jeremiah had that thing chained up and it got loose.”

  They moved faster through the snow and the wind, realizing that they had no choice, now. Delmar had been right, but even he hadn’t really expected his assertions to really be true. Jeremiah and the thing…they were connected. Jeremiah was indeed at the center of what happened to Steven and Daniel.

  Jeremiah cursed the snow as he shuffled through the contents of the container. The long, deep fiberglass chest was one of many that he had hidden, partially buried, all around the wilderness that was his alter ego’s territory. This one was the container closest to the cabin, so it was the one he had run to out of necessity. He needed a small pack, a poncho or a tarpaulin that could serve as a shelter if things went bad, he needed waterproof leggings and the winter parka that he knew was still inside. He knelt in the snow, digging through the contents. He hadn’t used this cache in a while, and knew that everything was still inside. A rifle, a small backpack, materials for a shelter, clothing, food, water…everything that a human could need after waking up naked in the middle of a winter wonderland. He cursed the idiots at his cabin as he shuffled through the contents, taking out things that he needed. He did not want to hurt them…well…he wouldn’t mind so much if killing them would not serve to just make his already bad situation worse.