Beneath a Winter Moon

by Shawson M Hebert

  Instead of turning back to the entrance and toward fresh air, Thomas walked deeper into the cavern. He ignored the taunts from Alastair and the sarcastic curses returned by Delmar. Something had caught his eye. Thomas could no longer stand the smell, so he took his do-rag from his cargo pocket and tied it tightly around his face so that it covered his nose and mouth like a surgeon’s mask. It was not enough, but it would have to do.

  He flicked on his flashlight as he moved deeper inside. He patted Jack and reassured him that it was okay. The dog was whimpering more and more. As he moved deeper in, it became clear what it was—an orange hunting vest. At the same moment that the vest became clearly visible, the rest of the floor of the cavern became visible as well, bathed in the dim edges of the beam. Thomas stepped down into the cavern’s large, bowl-shaped center. The outer edges were higher—as if the middle of the room, a section perhaps twenty meters in diameter, had sunk several feet.

  Jack whined loudly, as if in protest to what he saw before him—and Thomas could no longer hold back the bile in his throat. He raised the do-rag from his mouth, bent over, and vomited. His abdomen wracked with convulsions for what seemed like forever. When he was finally able to stand upright again, he saw Delmar at his side. The big man held his own flashlight staring at the incredible carnage.

  There were dozens of rotted and rotting carcasses—animals of the mountain—and some obviously human. There were also remains that had been in the cavern so long that they had mummified. They saw many bear and wolf carcasses, some with clumps of tissue still attached to the bones. One in particular, a bear carcass, looked whole but was actually hollow, as if the attacker had consumed the creature from the inside. The head of the bear was intact, body complete—and if the thick fur had not sunk into the large rib cage as it lay rotting on its side, the body might have passed, (at a short distance), for a live animal. They saw that mule deer, elk, even small rodent-like carcasses lay in piles, layer upon layer, covering the floor of the cavern.

  Thomas noticed a human arm sticking up through the pile, but reaching the remains would mean wading halfway across the gore of the room. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and pulled the do-rag back over his face. Ignoring the arm, he took a step forward.

  “Jesus,” Delmar said.

  “Daniel’s here somewhere. The bastard brought him here, I know it. The son of a bitch…”

  “Sweet Jesus,” Delmar said.

  The two men looked at each other, and then back at the floor of horror. Neither knew what more there was to say. Thomas broke the moment of silence as he reached down to pet Jack, soothing the dog. Jack had begun moving back and forth on his leash, clearly upset at the contents of the cavern.

  “He knows he’s trespassing,” Thomas said.

  Delmar sighed. He knelt down and held Jack’s face so that they looked into each other’s eyes “I know, boy. And I promise that it’s not like we don’t want to get the hell out of here—we do. But, it’s just going to take a little time.”

  Jack looked up at Thomas.

  Thomas held his tongue, knowing that they should not be trapped in the first place.

  Delmar stood up and walked around the room, surveying the horrible contents. “There must be years of kills in here. I wonder why carrion feeders have not picked them clean…or stolen them from the cave?”

  “Maybe the other animals are too scared?” Just then a loud crack echoed through the cavern as more sand and stone burst from the wall near Thomas. “I’m getting really tired of that,” Thomas said, grimacing. Though the two men were doing their best to stay in areas they felt would be difficult to see from the outside, Alastair still fired the occasional shot, sometimes coming much too close. Thomas turned back to Delmar, “Like I said—Jack knows we are trespassing. He knows we should not be here, so I’m sure that other animals are probably the same.”

  Delmar nodded. “I’m not sure how much longer I can stand the stench. I’m tempted to make a run for it just to reach clean air.”

  “What we need to figure out is how to get out of here while Alastair is still human and still vulnerable.”

  Delmar motioned toward the entrance. “It will be dark in maybe four hours. Whatever we do, we need to make it quick.”

  “He’ll pick us off easily if we just try to leave. We’d have to climb over those rocks even if we did get out without being shot—giving him even easier shots at us—shots that even a kid with a BB-gun couldn’t miss.”

  “I can go first, fire in his direction to distract him…with enough covering fire maybe you and Jack get out…hell, I might even make it, too.”

  Thomas shook his head.

  “Look, we don’t have many choices here. We can try. We might be able to use the rocks out there as concealment. If I can get a bead on his position, then maybe you can get out and get in a position to protect yourself, and maybe you will be able to see the bastard. If not—well—so long as we get close, covering fire might work. I cover, you move, you cover, I move—a staggered retreat. If our shots get close he’s going to keep his head down.”

  “Maybe…but then we are right back out in the open. You pin him down for a minute and I climb out…the nearest cover for me is a almost a hundred meters away.” Thomas repeated, “A hundred meters, Hero.”

  “I’d be willing to try anything if it would get me the hell out of this place.”

  Thomas knew that Delmar’s suggestions were the only options barring a miracle, and to that end he said a silent prayer that maybe the weather would clear up again and an air-rescue unit would see the rubble that used to be Alastair’s cabin. That could lead them to here, he thought. He grimaced, knowing neither would happen

  “Thomas? Should we look for Daniel?” Delmar asked. “There are older human remains here, but like you said, this is probably where he brought him.” Delmar carefully walked around the center of the cabin, trying to steer clear of the carnage as his eyes searched for Daniel’s body. He had not wrapped anything over his face, and so he gagged on occasion.

  Thomas sighed heavily and knelt down by Jack, once more. He stroked the dog’s soft fur. Another crack resounded through the cavern. Jack trembled slightly, but was used to rifle shots. Thomas felt that the dog trembled at the shots only because he somehow knew they were meant for them.

  “The bastard must have a lot of ammo if he’s willing to waste it like this,” Delmar said. “That shot must have been ten yards off—but I guess he’s smart enough to realize what a great deterrent those shots could be.”

  Thomas didn’t look up, but said, “We can’t do anything for Daniel’s body, so let’s not waste time looking.”

  “We can do something for his soul, though,” Delmar replied, flatly. “We can cut out Alastair’s heart with that big Bouie knife of his.”

  “I’ve got it,” Thomas said, realizing that he hadn’t told his friend that he found the weapon after Daniel was taken. “But I would be happy to let you do the honors.”

  “And to think you wouldn’t let me carve the turkey last year at your sister’s house…”

  “Well, that could have been dangerous.” Thomas could not help but smile. “My sis is all that I have left of my family…couldn’t take that chance. You, Jack Daniels, and a big carving knife in her proximity?” He let out a mock, sigh. “Just couldn’t take that chance.”

  Delmar grunted.

  In the sudden calm and with their sudden change of sentiment, Thomas thought something felt different. Something was… That is not coming from outside. That is coming from the back of the cavern, he thought, feeling a definite rush of cold air across his neck and face. It’s coming from here—somewhere toward the back.

  Another loud crack. This time, the round thudded into a pile of animal corpses near Thomas. He stood up moved toward the back of the cavern while Jack walked by his side.

  Alastair yelled at them again, asking them to come to the mouth of the cavern to could “discuss their surrender.” The Scot pointed out that the trapped me
n were losing daylight…and that the darkness would bring a horrible, agonizing death.

  “I wish he would shut the hell up," muttered Delmar.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Snow and Kaley pushed the gurney into the large, square van. The vehicle was dark gray and had Worth Dry Cleaning Company painted on both sides. Just underneath, the words Worthwhile Cleaning is ‘Worth’ Dry Cleaning. The inside of the van showed it for what it was, however—a military styled transportation vehicle.

  Huth and Sorret helped Kaley get Alan’s sleeping body onto a large bench on the driver’s side of the van. The bench appeared especially made for a body, as it had straps of all kinds jutting out all round it. The men strapped Alan in, and Deluth nodded at Sorret. Sorret nodded back, and jumped down from the back of the van. Snowflakes blew into the van in wild gusts, causing Snow to shiver.

  “Your coat is in that pile over there with ours,” Huth said. “I grabbed them from the lobby.”

  Snow nodded, rubbing his hands together.

  Deluth shut the rear doors of the van, closing it off from the cold. Immediately, two overhead heaters began blowing warm air down onto the men. Huth and Kaley sat on the bench at Alan’s feet, while Deluth sat across from them. He motioned for Snow to sit beside him.

  Towards the front, a large, square section of the steel that separated the cab from the back, slid down to reveal Sorret, who drove the van through the snow. “It’s going to be rough-going in this weather, boss,” Sorret said loudly.

  “Just get us there as fast as you can,” Deluth said, raising his voice above the sounds of the exhaust. “We just need to get there and remain on standby for this weather to clear.”

  “Where?” asked Snow.

  Deluth shot him a sideways glance. “To the airfield. There is a Royal Air Force hanger there and it has a room we can keep our guest until his taxi arrives.”

  “Where is he going?”

  “You don’t need to know that,” Deluth said. “But I did promise you a complete explanation.” He looked at Kaley. “Toss me Johnson’s file.”

  Kaley took a moment to open the massive briefcase, then handed over a folder perhaps a half-inch thick. Deluth opened it, glanced, then offered it to Snow.

  Snow took the folder and began reading, slowly scrolling through the paperwork.

  “That is Jeremiah Johnson AKA Alastair McLeod” He chuckled. “You gotta admire his tenacity. Jeremiah Johnson. Can you believe it?”

  Snow nodded. “We’ve all heard of him, though I didn’t know for sure that was really his name.”

  “It’s not,” Deluth said. “He’s our guy, and he’s been good at playing the system legally. He’s a lawyer by trade, so he hasn’t felt the need to use underground means for swapping or changing identities. That’s where he messed up. Normally, no one would look back twenty or thirty years for name changes but we do. He had his name changed in the seventies. His driver’s license picture that shows his appearance hasn’t changed one iota. He’s the same age and appearance now as he was in 1972.”

  Snow took a moment to study the older files, and saw where he legally changed his name.

  “He goes back a hell of a lot longer than the seventies. We believe he is responsible for a string of deaths in every decade since at least the twenties.”

  Snow closed the folder. “Are you telling me he doesn’t age? Like, he is immortal?”

  Kaley laughed at that. “Oh, we proved that they are not immortal. You take their head off or burn them to a crisp and they won’t come back.”

  Deluth nodded, “Not immortal, but apparently ageless.” He took the folder and handed it back across to Kaley. “This is our first outbreak in seven years. We locked onto Jeremiah the moment we got word about the deaths at the cabin.” He gestured to his men. “We work with Special Branch but we drill each month for this exact situation, and we do an all out two-week practice outbreak once a year. Like I said, it’s been seven years since our last case, and that didn’t go so well.” He paused. “Eleven years before, or eighteen years ago, we had an outbreak in Vancouver near the U.S. border. We had a hell of a time eradicating the infected and catching the main guy. Actually, we took three cases alive, including the main carrier. He was almost two hundred years old.” He paused again, to let his words sink in.

  When Snow didn’t push for more answers, Deluth looked over at his men. “I love this guy! Look at him. He’s not freaking at all…he’s as hard as stone. I love him!”

  Snow grimaced.

  “Anyway, that was the first, and it was a wild chase and a lot of people died. The government then dedicated a team that would be launched for such an outbreak, but there was no training, just a passing of knowledge. Seven years ago, when a particularly nasty monster hit, we were unprepared. Thirteen people died while we tried to track him down. We got him, like I said earlier, but it was at a high cost in lives. Since then, we drill two days once a month and do a complete outbreak mock-up once a year. We keep our weaponry and technology updated and we have the entire government at our disposal when it comes to tracking.”

  “Why do they slip up? I mean, if they can hide for a hundred years, then how is it that they suddenly slip?” Snow asked.

  Deluth shrugged. “In our last case, the guy had gotten tired of living. He grew tired of hiding what he was—so he let the wolf out, so to speak. The one eighteen years ago? His wild side left one man infected, but alive. When he realized that there was another of his kind out there, he tried to track him down on his own. In the process, local police got involved, and everything went very public one late night during a solstice festival.” Deluth sighed at the memory. “This case seems to be similar, though I am just guessing at this point. Werewolf A infects werewolf B, and then one of them kills the other. Either way, this Jeremiah fellow is definitely werewolf A. He’s the old timer, for sure.”

  “What about werewolf B,” he said, shaking his head in frustration. “I mean the second werewolf. The one that Alan said attacked him.”

  “We believe that the headless and naked corpse found at the cabin—you saw him—the man who’d been missing for a year? He was the second werewolf. Jeremiah is still out there. Think about it. The guy goes missing a year ago and is presumed dead. Then, suddenly, he pops up in the exact spot where Alan claims to have been attacked? He’s headless, and wearing no clothes?” Deluth nodded. “He was our second werewolf. He was the pup, so to speak.”

  “What about Jenny and Steven...”

  “Jenny was alive as of yesterday, along with two survivors of the hunting party. Her husband did not survive their landing, apparently, and one of the men from the hunting party was killed. Probably by Jeremiah. Their last known whereabouts were Jeremiah’s cabin.”

  “My God,” Snow said. “They are at Jeremiah’s cabin?”

  Deluth nodded. “Using his radio. But then we lost contact with them by yesterday afternoon. We were going to head that way via Mountain Rescue, , but we got socked in again by the weather.”

  Snow nodded. “I’m still having a hard time believing this.”

  Deluth frowned. “Let’s hope that the truth never stares you in the face. If it does, you won’t soon forget it, and belief will no longer be a problem.”

  “You said you needed me partly because I could fly aircraft. So, assuming that I am flying for you, tell me what is next.”

  “After Alan is picked up, and the moment the weather clears, you will be flying my team to Jeremiah’s cabin.”

  A chill ran up Snow’s spine. “What if it is dark by the time the weather clears?”

  Deluth grimaced. “We have to go in, dark or not.”

  “Why don’t you have your own pilot?” Snow asked.

  “Until now, the incidents have been in cities or in suburbs. This is the first incident in the middle of nowhere. I suspect that this Jeremiah character was trying to keep himself out of trouble. Don’t worry, lieutenant, I’m making note of it for future reference. For now, you are the man. I h
ope you don’t have a problem with that, because it’s your job. You made an oath, and this, like it or not, is a part of it.”

  “Where will Alan be taken?”

  “I really can’t answer that, lieutenant. The idea is too learn what we can from them, but thus far we’ve been unable to keep a subject for long. Each time there was no choice but to eradicate them.”

  “His name is Alan Tucker…and whatever he has, he sure didn’t ask for it. You talk about it as if he were a pest. He’s more than a subject. He’s a human being.”

  Kaley leaned forward, “See, that’s where you are wrong. He stopped being human the moment he was bitten and allowed to live. What he is, is a killing machine who also has the ability to spread his disease to others. Try to imagine him infecting five people. Then imagine that those five infect five more, each. Do the math.” Kaley grimaced. “He isn’t human anymore, lieutenant. He’s a deadly menace that would just as soon kill you after sundown as look at you.”

  Deluth nodded and looked at Snow. “Usually, they don’t turn the first time until the moon is full. That’s where the whole full moon myth comes from. But truthfully, we don’t even know that for sure. It’s based only on what others have told us. But one thing we do know, absolutely, is that once they have turned, they can do it at will provided the sun is all the way down.”

  “So, Alan will be taken somewhere secret to be studied?”

  “I can’t answer that, lieutenant. I can tell you just about everything, but I can’t answer that.”

  “Then you can’t say whether he will live or die.”

  Deluth shook his head. "I can’t, but I’d be lying if I told you that I think he has a good chance to live long. The experience with captured infected is that once they turn, they change. They become aggressive, and they turn every time they can, and they kill at every opportunity. When that happens, they must be put down.”

  “Like a dog,” Snow muttered.

  “It is what it is, lieutenant. I don’t make the rules, but I don’t know that I would change them if I did. This is a very bad situation.”