by Rick Hautala
“Then you’ll talk to Thurston?”
“I didn’t say that!” He clenched his fist holding the bullets and pounded it on the counter top. “No! I’ve got to do it this way!”
.III.
Ned had seen them as they came up to the house. He had seen them and recognized them. He had been hiding behind one of the pine trees in the backyard. After they had broken through the front door and entered, he had crept around to the edge of the porch and crouched there. He caught snatches of what they said as they went from room to room. Once the sun set, he could see the glow of their flashlights through the slats covering the windows. He had wished violently that he could have had his other shape then!
He sat now beside the small campfire in the abandoned mine, thinking about what he would have to do. His upper lip tightened into a grimace. He snapped a wrist-thick branch in half and threw it into the blaze. Tilting his head back, he waved his hands over the fire and watched the shadows wash over the dirt-and-stone ceiling. A laugh built slowly in his chest.
He knew that he could never go back to his house now. Even if they hadn’t found his secret in the cellar, he was just as pleased to get rid of that house forever. It reminded him of his humanity—the weaker part, the part he rejected. He longed for his other shape.
What he also knew now was who he would have to find next, when the change came. He didn’t have to go outside to know that the full moon was near. He could feel the strange, subtle pulling that began in his groin and slowly spread out to his stomach and limbs.
Soon! The time is soon! Not yet. Soon!
He stood up and made his way along the twisting tunnels to the mineshaft mouth. He walked with long, sure strides.
Soon!
As he neared the mine opening, he felt the pulling in his groin grow stronger. The power was rising!
From the ledge, which hung some fifty feet above the abandoned-mine office-building, he could look out over the surrounding forest. The glow of light from the town shone just above the thick black line of trees. The night air was filled with the rushing sound of the falls. The winter ice had broken up, freeing the river once again. Ned looked to his left at the misty spray rising from the falls. It looked like a dense silver cloud, obscuring the further shore.
Behind him, the nearly full moon threw his shadow along the ground and out over the edge of the cliff. As he focused his gaze on his shadow, the brilliantly lit ground in front of him seemed to grow brighter, more distinct.
The other shape’s eyes! he thought with barely contained pleasure. I’m getting the night animal’s vision. It will be tonight, later!
He turned around, looked up at the pale silver disk of the moon, and raised his arms as if to embrace it.
The urge, the power stirred deeply in his bowels as he opened his arms to the moon. The light grew brighter, making him squint. The moonlight seemed almost to pierce him, right through his body as if he had no substance left, or as if he were changing into another substance.
A low sound beneath the hissing of the falls made him start, turn around, and drop to his hands and knees in one swift motion. Down below, on the road by the old office, a car was pulling to a stop. He skinned his lips back across his teeth. A low rumble came from deep within his chest. With his altered night-vision, Ned could clearly see the black-and-white police cruiser.
Ned watched, coiled with tension and ready to sprint off into the mine if he was seen. He wished anxiously that the change would come faster. Then he would know how to take care of the people down below!
Thurston opened his door and got out. Ted Seavey stepped out on the passenger’s side. The headlights were still on, shining onto the office building. Above the roar of the falls, Ned, with his acute animal hearing, could hear the buzz of their voices.
“Uh-uh. Not me,” Seavey said, shaking his head and looking up the face of the cliff. “I ain’t going up there. Not after dark. Footing would be too risky.”
“We ought to check that line of traps up there,” Thurston said. They both stood for a moment, looking up at the cave mouth. Ned was sure they couldn’t see him.
They don’t have the power! They don’t have the vision!
Thurston turned, said something Ned couldn’t quite make out, and then they both got back into the cruiser. Before driving away, Thurston directed the spotlight across the side of the cliff. The circle of light darted back and forth across the mine opening. Ned pressed his body close to the ground until he heard the cruiser driving away. The tension in his body slowly unwound as he got up and brushed himself off.
He looked back up at the moon, smiled, and then walked back into the mine to his campsite.
The fire had burned low, but it made the cave warm enough for comfort. Ned quickly undressed and lay down on the musty mattress. He felt a deep ache in his joints, as though his bones and muscles were tightening, twisting, reforming. He forced himself to relax and let the change come. He fixed his eyes on the vaulted ceiling of the mine and let himself drift.
Soon, Soon.
.IV.
“You’re sure you don’t want to come along?” Bob asked for the third time. “It’d be kind of nice just to relax a bit, maybe have an early breakfast at a truck stop out on the highway.”
“No,” Lisa said. “It’s too late to be running around. You should go home and get some sleep.”
“You think I’d be able to sleep?” Bob asked. “Besides.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s only eleven-thirty. We should do something different to, to take our minds off it.”
Lisa paled. “You’re going to start the hunt tomorrow night?”
Bob nodded.
“You could stay here. Have an early breakfast with me,” Lisa said.
Bob shook his head. “No. We’d spend the whole time either dwelling on it or talking around it. I have to do something different, so I won’t think about it so much.” He put on his jacket and started toward the door. “I think a nice long drive will help clear my head. Tomorrow night’s the full moon, you know.”
“Will you stop reminding me,” Lisa snapped. “Anyway, I think I’d rather get some sleep, especially if I had some company,” she added demurely.
Bob chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t tempt me, woman!” he said with mock anger. “I have business to tend to first!” He realized that his attempt at humor was not cutting the tension, so he added, “I’ll stop by tomorrow afternoon, before I start hunting.”
He put his hand on her shoulder, and she tensed. “Yeah. OK.”
“See you tomorrow,” he said, kissed her quickly, and then he went down the steps.
“Yeah, see you,” Lisa said to the door as she swung it shut. She locked it and stood there for a moment with her cheek pressed to the wood.
She forced herself to go through her usual motions of preparing for bed: brushing her hair, brushing her teeth, washing her face with Noxzema. She finally admitted to herself that she was kidding herself. She stood in the bathroom, staring at her pale reflection in the mirror. She shuddered and then walked over to the bathroom window and looked out on the street below.
The quiet street was bathed with bright moonlight. She couldn’t see the moon from where she was, but she knew that there was a small, imperceptible ring missing from the left side of the moon’s face. That thought and what it meant to her and Bob brought tears to her eyes.
The sudden knock on her door made her jump. She snatched a square of toilet paper and dabbed at her eyes as she started for the door.
“Who is it?” she called, hoping that Bob had decided to come back after all.
“Thurston, Mrs. Carter. May I come in?”
Lisa clasped one hand to her throat as she unbolted the door. “Is something the matter?” she asked anxiously, thinking something might have happened to Bob. Lisa stepped back to let Thurston and Seavey enter.
“Evening,” Thurston said, tipping his hat. Seavey nodded and remained silent, standing by the open door.
“Is so
mething the matter?” Lisa repeated. “Has something happened?” Her hands twisted together.
“No, no. Take it easy, Mrs. Carter. Nothing’s wrong.”
“Then isn’t it a little late to be making social calls?” she asked sarcastically. She glanced at the wall clock and saw that it was after midnight.
“Well…” Thurston hitched his belt importantly, glanced at Seavey, and squared his shoulders. “We’ve been out to your boyfriend’s place.”
“He’s all right, isn’t he?” Lisa asked. She felt a stomach-wrenching wave of fear, even though Bob had left no more than half an hour ago.
“I dunno,” Thurston said slowly, cocking his eyebrows and glancing toward the bedroom door. “We’ve been out there looking for him, you know, just wantin’ to talk to him about a few things. He wasn’t there. We just thought we might find him here.” He finished the last statement with a suggestively rising inflection that galled Lisa.
“He’s not here,” she said coldly, swinging her arm wide to indicate the empty apartment. “Obviously.”
“Hmmm. Well.”
“If you have a message for him, I could give it to him.” She paused, then added, “Provided you don’t intend to drop by later tonight.”
Thurston shook his head thoughtfully. “Not really. I just wanted to—”
“To ask him what he was doin’ out at the Simmons place a couple ’a nights ago, for one,” Seavey piped in.
Thurston turned and glared at his deputy.
“The Simmons place,” Lisa said weakly. She looked down and saw that her hands were trembling. She clasped them behind her back and bounced on her toes in an attempt to conceal her agitation. “I, I have no idea.”
“You don’t?” Thurston looked at her sharply. “Well, we were just anxious to talk with him, saw the lights on, and figured we wouldn’t be disturbing you.”
“Actually,” she said, feigning a yawn, “I was just getting ready for bed, so if that’s all…”
“Sorry to bother you, ma’am,” Thurston said, touching his hat.
“Good night,” Lisa said. She started to close the door on the two policemen. “I’ll tell Bob you were by.”
“You just do that,” Thurston said, looking at her harshly. He stood with one foot poised over the steps. “You just do that. Evening.”
Lisa shut the door firmly and listened as the two men went down the stairs. Her throat was dry, and a trickle of sweat ran down the back of her neck. When she heard the door at the foot of the steps close, she went into the living room, switched off the lights, and sat huddled on the couch. Sleep came an hour later.
.V.
Thurston flattened himself against the wall of the house when he saw the bouncing headlights coming up the driveway to Bob’s house. The motor stopped and the lights winked out. He heard the car door open and slam shut, footsteps crunch on the gravel walkway, the key jitter in the lock, and then the door open and close.
Cautiously, he peeked around the edge of the house and saw that the car was Bob’s. When a light came on in the kitchen window, Thurston flattened back against the wall.
So where the hell has he been? Thurston wondered. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was a little after four in the morning.
He pressed his ear against the house and tried to distinguish the sounds he heard from inside. There was a steady banging sound, then a loud clump. Crouching low, Thurston ran away from the house, making sure to keep out of the light that spilled from the window into the backyard. He made his way over to a sheltered position behind a tree, from which he could see into the kitchen.
Bob was standing near the window, back-to, drinking a cup of coffee. The early morning chill made Thurston shiver as he thought about how good a cup of coffee would taste. He rubbed his arms to drive away the chill; there would be time enough for coffee as soon as he checked out what Bob was up to.
After several minutes of watching, Thurston started to get impatient. It looked as though Bob was staring at something, either on the table or the floor in front of him.
Won’t learn anything standing out here freezing my balls off! he thought angrily. Ought to just go in and talk to him.
He glanced again at his watch. It would be light soon. He thought about making his way back to where he had left his cruiser parked, about a mile through the woods on Route 43.
Suddenly he saw Bob raise a rifle to his shoulder, bend over it, and take a quick practice aim. Bob turned around, facing out the window, and pointed the rifle again. Thurston panicked for a second, thinking Bob had seen him and was going to shoot. He cringed back into the darkness under the tree and didn’t relax until, after several tense seconds, the shot didn’t come.
Who’s he going to hunt? Thurston wondered. If it was the wild dog, why did he think he had any better chance than the rest of them?
“I always thought he knew more than he was saying,” Thurston whispered to himself with satisfaction.
What if he has another target in mind? Not the wild dog at all.
Thurston watched with held breath as Bob snapped open the barrel of the rifle and sighted down its length. He lowered the gun, studied it in his hands, then placed it on the counter. The light in the kitchen blinked off, and Thurston was left alone in the dark.
“Have to talk to him in the morning for sure,” Thurston whispered. Then he turned and started making his way back through the woods to his car.
The silence of the forest seemed to intensify as Thurston trudged through the snow. It was deeper here in the cover of the woods, and he found the going tough. He was grateful that the moon was so bright, helping him find his way more easily.
He was at the top of a ridge, looking down at the think span of woods, beyond which he knew his car was parked, when he heard a soft rustling sound behind him. There was no wind; it couldn’t have been the trees. He turned and saw the black shadow bearing down on him. He didn’t have time to draw his service revolver. He didn’t even have time to scream.
Chapter Eighteen
.I.
Thursday, April 15
Bob was in the bathroom shaving when he heard someone coming up his driveway. He wiped the shaving cream from his face and, looking out the window, saw a battered Chevy pickup truck stop at his front door. The truck door opened and Ted Seavey stepped out. Bob’s immediate impression was that he looked nervous, distraught. He kept glancing over his shoulder as he came up to the door and knocked.
Bob went to the door and opened it. His initial impression was confirmed as Seavey pushed his way into the kitchen. The deputy stared at Bob for a moment, ashen-faced.
“Good morning, Deputy,” Bob said warily. “What can I do for you?”
“Last night,” Seavey stammered. “Did you? Thurston was killed, out by 43.” He stopped, gulping air furiously.
“What?”
“Sure as shit,” Seavey said. “That fuckin’ wild dog killed him. God! His face was missing!”
His own face had paled considerably, and Bob was afraid the man might faint.
“Out by 43? Nearby?”
Seavey nodded his head violently. “He dropped me off last night, ’bout one in the morning. Said he was gonna swing by here. Wanted to talk to you. You didn’t see him?”
Bob shook his head slowly. “No, I was out until pretty late. I didn’t get home until almost dawn.”
“Christ, it’s terrible! We have him over at Doc Stetson’s now. He, he—” Seavey tried to continued but his throat closed off.
“Here, let me get you some water.” Bob walked over to the sink and filled a glass. He handed it to Seavey, who took a deep swallow. Water dripped down his chin.
“We found his cruiser out on 43 early,” Seavey continued, once he had calmed down slightly. “It was pulled over to the side of the road. It didn’t look good right away. We circled the area and then, then I found him.”
He took another deep drink of water.
“Jesus,” Bob muttered, shaking his head as he paced the
length of the kitchen.
Last night wouldn’t have been too soon after all, he thought bitterly. He smacked his fist into his open palm.
“You’re sure you didn’t see or hear anything?” Seavey said anxiously.
“I was out pretty late. I came home about an hour or so before dawn and went straight to bed. Didn’t hear a thing.”
He walked over to the kitchen window and looked out into the backyard. There was still a thin snow cover there, and what he saw made him gasp. He could plainly see the footprints that came from the trees, angled over to the side of the house just below the kitchen window, and then swung in a wide circle, disappearing again into the forest.
He had been out there last night spying on me, Bob thought.
“I went right to bed,” he repeated as he turned and walked back over to Seavey. “Can I get you some more water?”
Seavey shook his head, apparently calmed down now. “What I can’t understand is what he was doing out there, parked on the side of the road like that.” Seavey scratched his head, perplexed. “Maybe he saw that dog and went after it.”
Bob suddenly felt any sympathy he might have felt for Thurston disappear.
That bastard was snooping around here spying on me!
“Maybe that’s what happened,” Bob said softly. “Only it got him.”
“Shit!” Seavey stamped his foot on the floor. “I just don’t know what I’m gonna do. I guess I’m police chief now. I don’t wanna be police chief. Hell, now it’s gonna be up to me to organize the hunt. I ain’t so sure I can hack it.”
He looked at Bob with a sorrowful, pleading look. Bob did feel sympathy for him. “You’ll do all right. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing all along. Rick had a plan, didn’t he?”
Seavey nodded. “Yeah. We were setting out traps and poison bait, ’n’ checking ’em on a rotatin’ basis.”
“Well,” Bob said, “just stick to that, for now.”
