“Dana?” I asked, telling myself I needed confirmation that this was, in fact, her.
“Hi,” she whispered softly, leaned up against the half opened door as though it were giving her the strength to stand. “Did you want to come in?” Her voice was so uncertain and shaky, like she thought I was going to somehow say no.
“Yeah, sure.”
She sort of floated away from the door and let me come inside without any direction. Her place was extremely tiny and cluttered, like every belonging she owned was crammed inside the living room, with boxes on top of boxes, books in piles on the floor, and a stack of dishes in the sink that looked old enough that I thought I was going to spot a flock of seagulls hovering over them.
“Sorry about the mess,” she apologized. I could hear the embarrassment in her voice.
“It’s all right, you should see my place. I just sweep everything I own under my bed and now it looks like I’m sleeping on a landfill.” It was a lie, but I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. For a fleeting moment, I saw what looked to be a smile creeping from the corner of her mouth, so I knew I had helped.
“I’m not usually this messy, I just… I lose track of time.” She scurried around the living room trying to clean up for my benefit, picking up books from the sofa and sliding them back into the bookshelf, and removing several empty coffee mugs from the end tables. There had to have been five scattered about the room. She raised one cup in the air as if to present it to me, and then very apologetically said, “I drink a lot of chamomile tea. It’s supposed to help you sleep.”
“You’re not sleeping?”
Dana seized to move, as though my question were ridiculous. “No,” she said softly. I’m not sure why I felt surprised. The circles under her eyes were so dark it was pretty much the only thing I could notice.
“Did you want to sit down and talk?” I asked. I wanted her to take a breather and stop trying to clean. I had already seen the mess and I didn’t care. I was more interested in talking about her.
“Sure,” she replied, and then we both sat down on her couch. She sat Indian style, cozily curled up in her gray sweatpants.
“How are you?” I asked.
Dana stared at me blankly, as if trying to conjure up the right answer. “Fine,” was all she said, and I knew she was a big fat liar. She looked the absolute opposite of fine and with good reason. I could only imagine the hell she was going through every month.
“Fine? Just fine? Dana, you don’t have to lie. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know.”
“I’m hanging on,” she admitted.
“I was surprised to see you living out here. It feels kind of withdrawn from the world.”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense for my condition. There’s not many people who live here, so they don’t know much and they don’t ask questions. You know, just in case I don’t get far away in time.”
I knew what that meant. “So, you… turn someplace else?”
“I go to the woods. There’s a forest not far from here, that way, at least, if I hurt someone, it’ll be a deer or a bear and not a…” Finishing the sentence looked to be excruciating. It made me wonder if she had killed a person and that’s why she looked so depressed. Lycanthropy was a good enough reason to be in a dark place, but she looked excessively down in the dumps.
“Does it get easier? The turning, I mean.”
“It gets quicker, yeah. The first time took hours, and when it finally happened, I barely remembered a thing. The more it happens, the more I remember, the more I become aware while it’s happening.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t come here to listen to my sob story, though. You had a reason for coming here, right?”
There was no point in dillydallying. “When I came back in town, there was a man who found my hotel room. He showed me your picture and asked if I knew anything about where you were. He was asking all kinds of questions about what happened last summer.”
“You mean…?”
Neither of us wanted to outright say the summer werewolves attacked, so I kept it quick and to the point. “Somebody’s after you, and they know about your condition.”
I saw fear set into her eyes. “They’re looking for me?”
“It looks like it. I would have told you over the phone, but I didn’t want to freak you out. I wanted to do it in person.”
“What did you say to them?”
“Nothing. I said nothing.”
“Did they follow you here?”
Oh, God, I hadn’t even thought about that. “I don’t think so.”
“Should I be afraid?” she asked calmly, but her thumb was grinding into the palm of her hand like she was a bit fidgety. How out of the loop was this girl that she was looking to me for answers? I was hoping she had an idea of who this person was, as she was far more involved in this world than I was.
Suddenly, I felt it was my duty to drive away her fears. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” I lied. I was such a coward. One look into her pitiful blue eyes and I was doubling back harder than an Olympic swimmer. “But you should really think about playing it safe just in case it isn’t just nothing. What you are is pretty special.”
Dana’s eyes fixed on me like I told a bad joke. “Special? I’m a monster.”
“No, you’re just—”
She interrupted me and said, “Yes, I am.” Her soft voice was so overwhelming that I knew she believed every word coming out of her mouth. This wasn’t a woman looking for sympathy, this was a woman on the brink of a meltdown. I could tell she was in hell.
I swallowed deeply, contemplating whether I wanted to ask what had been lingering in the back of my mind. I knew I had to go for it. “Have you hurt someone, Dana?” I wanted to be delicate and not outright asked her if she had killed someone in wolf form, but this was all new territory and I had no clue how to go about this. Under normal circumstances, I never would have been so bold and intrusive, but Dana appeared to be all alone in this city, and she really looked like she needed someone to talk to.
She turned her cheek to me, the shame practically emanating from her face. That was answer enough.
I scooted across the couch so I was closer to her and set my hand on top of hers. “If you did, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t control it.” This wasn’t a speech to make her feel better, it was the truth. Owen’s admission of what he had done to his sister—the girl he loved more than anyone on the planet and would never want to hurt—was proof that what they did in wolf form was far beyond their control.
She was still turned away from me, but from the side of her face I could see her bottom lip quaking. “But it was me that did it…”
“Just your body.”
“You don’t know what it’s like to wake up feeling stuffed from killing another human being.”
I didn’t expect her to say something so grotesque, and without my consent I started envisioning the worst; Dana waking up, naked, swollen bellied and mouth tainted with human blood. I could only imagine the sick feeling she had inside of her knowing that human flesh was working its way through her digestive system.
I swallowed hard, trying to fight the nausea.
A tear escaped her eye. “Sometimes, I don’t know what’s worse. Not knowing what I’ve done the morning after, or remembering it perfectly.”
I grazed my thumb across her knuckles in a comforting manner and she didn’t attempt to move her hand away. She needed the comfort.
“You’re right, I don’t know how that feels,” I began, “But I do know the pain of killing someone.” My words must have resonated with her deeply, because her pained, distant expression quickly evaporated in favor of shock and intrigue as she turned to look at me. “Molly’s brother, Owen, he was like you. He was also my friend. He killed a lot of people that night and I had to put him down.”
My story was a good distraction because her tears ceased. “I didn’t know. I don’t think I even knew what happened to Owen.
”
“He was torn up over what he was and wanted to die, and I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”
“But you don’t even know me,” she said timidly, as if us being nothing more than acquaintances meant I was somehow not supposed to care.
“I didn’t want you to die that night on the street and I don’t want you to die now.”
“And that’s why you came to warn me.”
“I’m sorry if I’m scaring you.”
She tucked a strand of greasy blonde hair behind her ear, and sniffled. “It’s just nice to have someone to talk to…”
“There isn’t anyone you can confide in? Family? Friends?”
“All my friends died last summer. I don’t have anybody else.”
“What about…” I hesitated to even say the word, the reality of it still hard to swallow, “What about other werewolves? Before Owen died, he told me he could hear their thoughts, that he could communicate with them. I imagine this isn’t a very common thing, but maybe you could—”
“I do hear them,” she responded, cutting me off.
I was stunned. “You mean there are more like you?” I asked, trying to keep my voice speculative sounding and not wimpy from fear. We had been attacked by three werewolves last summer, and as far as I knew, all three of them were dead. I had hoped, though secretly knew better, that it would be the end of them. Were those werewolves a part of a much larger pack that was spread throughout the area? Had Dana infected others unknowingly and those were the voices that she heard?
“Ever since I moved out here, I’ve heard them,” she told me.
“Have you ever spoken to them or met up with them?”
“No.”
“Why not?” I inquired desperately.
Quite simply she stated, “I don’t know them.”
“But they’re like you. Why wouldn’t you want to be with them?”
“From the sounds of it, they’re a pack, and I’ve spent my entire life following other people. Molly, Tiffany, Veronica… I was always following them blindly. I don’t want that for me anymore. I just want to be left alone.”
“But maybe they could help you.”
She shrugged, the uncertainty ever so present in her slow blinking eyes. “Maybe…”
“What exactly is it that you’re hearing?”
Again, she shrugged. ”Just a lot of talking, a lot of hunting. Sometimes there’s four of them, sometimes there’s more. Sometimes they scare me with the things they’re thinking about…” I didn’t know what she meant by that, but I was too interested in her story to stop her and ask. “I could never figure out why the quantity of them changed. I don’t know if they migrate or what, but there’s at least one voice that’s a constant.”
She stopped speaking, so I knew this is where I came in. “Who?”
“The man that was with you that night you found me on the street. His name is Max, right?”
“Max?” I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper. My Max? Was she for real? I couldn’t believe it. I was so stunned, my jaw dropped as I beamed holes through Dana’s head from staring at her for too long. He was close—close enough that Dana could actually hear his thoughts. I was overwhelmed with relief to know he was still alive, still fighting through the transformations, and that maybe, just maybe, we would see each other again.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
She nodded. Dana wasn’t a chatty girl and this was the time I needed her to get chatty.
“Well, is he okay? I mean, is he surviving? Where is he? Why did he leave?” I could tell my endless questions were proving to be a bit too much for her, because after a few seconds, she looked to be shrinking into her sofa. I stopped myself and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been looking for him and I thought he was gone forever.”
“He’s not gone. He’s not even far.”
“Where is he?”
“Twenty miles from here—a place called Lunar City.”
“Lunar City?” I repeated, certain that I had misheard her. “Not a very subtle name. Might as well call it Werewolf Valley.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think they want to be found out. I went there once, drawn to the voices, and it seems like a very hush-hush society. It’s one of the reasons I left. I didn’t like the feeling I got when I was there.”
Once I was over the shock of Max’s whereabouts, the reality set in; Max was involved in some kind of secret society? Max was involved with a pack? The same Max who had lived out in the middle of nowhere, rifle in hand, harsh word prepared for every stranger, was now joined up with a group of werewolves like some High School clique? I started to wonder if Dana had mistaken Max for someone else.
As if my curiosity wasn’t peaked enough, now I knew I needed to find him.
I pulled out a pen and paper from my purse, set it down on my knee and said, “You think you could give me directions?”
“You actually want to go there?”
“Max needs to know someone is out there looking for him. Now, can you help me?”
She nodded and then proceeded to give me detailed directions that I scribbled onto the piece of paper. When I was done I shoved it back into my purse.
Suddenly, I felt like a light had been ignited inside of me. I now knew that Max was okay, and even better, I knew the exact city he was staying. I felt like I was going to burst.
I checked my watch and saw it was nearing midnight. I had to get back to my hotel.
“Thank you so much for this,” I told her. “You don’t know how much of a relief this is to know my friend is all right.” I crawled off of the couch and headed for the front door. Dana was a few steps behind me. “I’m sorry to just drop in like this and then take off. I’d stay longer, but it’s late.”
“I understand.” Her voice was so tiny I just wanted to scoop her up, give her a great big hug and tell her everything was going to be all right. I opened the front door and walked out into the hallway. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right?” I asked her.
“I made it this far.”
“That wasn’t exactly a yes,” I said sadly with my head tilted, making a puppy dog face.
She struggled not to smile. “I’m okay with being alone,” she admitted to me. I had to wonder how much of it was true and how much of it was just so I’d stop pestering her.
“I was serious when I said to play it safe. I don’t know who that man was, but I don’t think he was trying to sell me Girl Scout cookies. If he’s looking for you, it means there’s a good chance other people know about you as well, and it’s just going to open up a Pandora’s box.”
“I’m pretty good at going unnoticed. I’ll be fine.”
“I forgot to say this, but I’m sorry about last summer, for, uh, hitting you in the face.”
She almost smiled. “You probably saved my life. I should probably be thanking you.”
“Yeah, well…” A thank you for me punching her in the jaw didn’t feel appropriate.
“I guess I owe you one,” she said. “Good luck with your friend.”
“Thanks. I need all the luck I can get.”
“I just hope he’s worth the trouble you’re getting yourself into.” Her voice was deep and so serious sounding that the hairs on my arms raised. Even if she didn’t mean it, this was a warning. A warning I probably should have taken into serious consideration and then gone running for the hills. Unfortunately, I was a bad mix of curious and reckless, and I knew I was going to get myself in too deep and regret it. But I had to know.
After she shut the door in my face, I returned to the parking lot to hop in my car and go home. I had a lot to think about, and more importantly a lot to plan for the next few days. If I was going to really consider going to Lunar City, I needed to do it first thing in the morning before I lost my nerve.
The crescent moon was even brighter than when I first arrived at Dana’s, and I was compelled to stop and stare at it for a good five minutes. It had felt like ages since I f
ound the moon a beautiful thing. All it represented to me was death and terror now, even when it had the decency not to be full. I could only imagine the kind of dread Max or Dana experienced every time they saw one. I wondered if Max was looking at it right now; that, despite our distance, we were both standing under the same moon, having the same thought at the very same moment. I sighed and turned the ignition key, telling myself to stop wasting time and get home already. Tomorrow would be a big day. Lunar City, here I come.
CHAPTER SIX
Unfortunately for me, Melanie was still passed out on my bed when I woke up the next morning. She sure did look like the beloved princess my family made her out to be—hair glued to the side of her cheek, makeup smudged around her eyes, shirt practically over her head, and one of her hands tucked down her pants. Her hair was such a giant rat’s nest that Biggie Smalls had found sanctuary in the strands and was in an even deeper sleep than Melanie was. Yep, that was the girl I grew up being compared to, hungover with a cat sleeping on her head.
I spent the morning on my laptop looking up cheap hotels in or near Lunar City. There were two to choose from—a high priced hotel that would cost me as much as my month’s rent back home at my apartment, or a motel that may as well been called Rat Central. The reviews mentioned filth, bugs, and a broken toilet. Sounded like a dream. Sign me up, sign me up.
Melanie needed to wake up so I could check out of the hotel, but despite several pokes to her body, she remained comatose. I eventually gave up and collapsed on one of the sofas and dialed up Priscilla with the hotel phone. If I was going to be stuck in town for another hour, the least I could do was skim off some time by a chat with her, since she did help make time fly. At first, I thought she wasn’t home because it rang several times, but eventually (and to my surprise) she answered.
“Yeah,” she groaned into the receiver. She didn’t say it like a question, but an acknowledgment that someone was bothering her.
Lunar City Page 5
