by D. M. Turner
“What’s that?”
“You said you’re from Arizona.”
“Yep.”
“Is that where you enlisted from?”
Ian grinned. “Yep.”
“How’d you end up clear at this end of the country? Couldn’t they have sent you to a camp closer to home?”
“Sure. I asked to be assigned here.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Sounded good at the time. It felt right, settled my gut.”
A long silence followed that made Ian glance at the man at his side.
Brett studied him with a perplexed expression. Then he shook his head. “You seem stranger to me all the time.”
“That’s not an altogether bad thing, I suppose. At least I’m not boring you.” He half-grinned.
The other man laughed. “There is that.”
* * *
Sunday, September 16, 1917
“We didn’t kill each other.” Ian grinned.
The sun still hung over the western horizon as they strolled back toward the training camp. They’d been gone about twenty-four hours. Well-fed with a good four-legged run behind them, Ian reveled in the contentment that had fallen over him.
Brett raised a brow. “Yeah, but it might’ve been a different story if we’d found anything smaller than that buck.”
“You just don’t want to believe we can get along long-term, do you?”
“I’m cautious is all.” He shrugged.
Ian sighed. “We hunt well together.”
“We almost lost him.”
“Yeah, but we didn’t. The more we hunt together, the better coordinated our hunts will be. You’ll see.”
Brett shot him a thoughtful look. “Are you always so optimistic?”
Ian snorted. “Not hardly. I can be just as cynical and gloomy as the next guy, and I usually am in fact. But I’ve learned to go with the flow when things feel right.” He waved a hand to indicate the two of them. “This feels right. This friendship or whatever we’re forming.” He cocked his head and glanced at the man. “In fact, I think you may be the reason I’m here.”
“What?” A snort of derision accompanied an insulted look. “You think you’re supposed to save me?”
“That’s not what I mean.” He shook his head. “I think I was supposed to meet you. I’ve never met another wolf that didn’t want a fight. Until you and I met, I didn’t know we could be anything but enemies.”
“That may still hold true.” Brett frowned, his gaze growing distant. “I met another wolf a while back that said we could be friends.”
“I gather that didn’t work out so well.”
“That’s an understatement. I got involved with a woman. That set off something weird in him. He tried to seduce her. She rejected him, so he attacked her. When I interceded, he turned on me. I had to kill him. He very nearly killed me in the process.”
“What happened to the woman?”
“She died.” The scowl deepened.
Something.... “From the wounds he inflicted?”
“No. Since I didn’t let him finish the job, he’d Turned her. She started to heal. I put her down.”
Shock and horror shook Ian to the core. “Why would you do that?”
“Have you ever seen a woman Turned?”
He shook his head.
“They very rarely survive the first transformation from human to wolf, and the pain they go through in the process is horrifying. Those who do survive often can’t make the transition back to human, which eventually drives them mad. I couldn’t let her go through that.”
“Did you love her?”
Brett pinned him with a cold, hard look. “No, and she knew that.”
Ian frowned. Could he put someone down who’d been Turned by mistake to prevent them from suffering? I don’t know.... Could he assume they wouldn’t survive as he had? He’d been so sure he’d die, but he hadn’t. He’d come through the pain. Would he be able to take away that possibility for someone else? What if he could help them survive? “Did you think about helping her instead?”
“What?” The other man glared at him.
“I’m not trying to criticize or put you on the spot. I just wondered, if someone is Turned by accident, can we help them? Maybe improve their chances of survival? Somehow?”
Brett shrugged. “You either survive or you don’t. I don’t know how anyone can change the outcome.”
“It might be worth thinking about.”
“Why? You want more cursed humans wandering the earth?”
Ian sighed. “Good point.”
Silence reigned as they headed up the last hill before entering the camp.
“Private Campbell! Private Mitchell!” Lieutenant Harold Clark waited at the top of the hill.
Ian and Brett froze then snapped to attention and offered salutes. Were they in trouble?
“At ease, men.”
They settled at parade rest, feet shoulder-width apart, hands linked behind their backs.
“I’ve been watching for you.”
Ian took a deep breath. It would really suck eggs to be booted from the Army before they’d even made it to France. Some had already washed out because they hadn’t been able to handle the physical requirements, but he and Brett had no problem there. They had to have done something wrong for the lieutenant to corner them. “Is there something we can help you with, sir?”
“I wanted to talk to both of you.”
Just ask and get it over with. “Are we in trouble, sir?”
Clark chuckled. “Not from me.”
Ian shared a confused look with Brett.
“May I ask where you’ve been since yesterday?”
“Yes, sir. We decided to go camp near a lake east of here for the night. We’re surrounded by men day-after-day, and it’s nice to get out where it’s quiet.”
“Hm.” The man’s eyes narrowed. “You did this without taking gear?” He pointed to both of them. “Neither of you is carrying a pack.”
“We know how to survive in the wild without it. We live off the land.” Ian pulled a knife from his belt that had been tucked at the back of his waist. “This is all I need most of the time.”
“I see.”
“It was our understanding that we were free to leave last evening, as long as we were back in our bunks tonight. Did we misunderstand instructions, sir?”
“No, you didn’t. This time is your own.”
That was a relief.
“I’ve watched you since you arrived last week, Private Campbell. That, of course, brought Private Mitchell to my attention. I spoke to your sergeant to confirm some of my observations.” He paced away, putting his back to them.
Ian’s breath caught. Had they done something to betray themselves?
“Both of you are exceeding expectations in most every area.” He laced his fingers behind his back then faced them again. “There’s an interesting issue with the horses, though. Would you care to explain it?”
“It took us a couple of days to find suitable horses, but we’ve done fine since then. I’m certain the sergeant told you that, though, so I’m not sure what you’re asking.” Most of the horses had been spooked by them, but they’d finally found mounts who had been unruffled by a couple of werewolf riders.
“We have an awful lot of horses here, and most of them don’t seem to like you two very much.” The lieutenant raised a brow. A grin played at the corners of his mouth.
What was he after?
He held up a hand. “Now, before you try to convince me you have nothing to do with horses going crazy, I should tell you that I’ve watched them the last few days, too. The only time anyone has difficulty with those animals is when either or both of you are nearby.”
“I’m not sure what to tell you, sir.” No truer words had ever been spoken.
Clark grinned. “You want to know what I think?” He paced away from them again.
Ian and Brett shared worried looks then faced forward before the li
eutenant turned back around moments later.
“Both of you are experienced soldiers.” His eyes narrowed. “Which begs the question, what conflicts could you have fought in that would account for the experience I see in the way you handle yourselves? Neither of you have a record showing Army involvement, and only Private Campbell came from Arizona and might have been involved in the border war with Mexico in the last few years in some unofficial capacity.”
“I’ve managed to stay out of the border mess, sir.” True enough. If the man accused him of lying, he wasn’t particularly good at reading people. After watching the Shoshone lose their land and the white man dishonor treaties and imprison the Indians on “reservations”, he wasn’t sure who was in the right in the border dispute.
The Mexicans fought to take land from the United States, which they’d taken from the Indians with the aid of Spain. The U.S. fought to hold territory already won from the Mexicans before the Civil War, while taking more from the Indians. Neither honored agreements or seemed to care about the people caught in the middle. It was hard to know who was right or wrong. That mess could sort itself out without his involvement. He’d rather expend his energy where the fight was clear-cut. Germany attempting to take over Europe was such a fight.
“You know, Private, a relative of mine fought for the Union Army in the War Between the States.” Lieutenant Clark raised an eyebrow.
Ian willed himself not to flinch and to keep breathing normally.
“In letters home during the war, he spoke of an Ian Campbell. A Scotsman who enjoyed reading and often read and wrote letters for fellow soldiers who’d never learned to read or write. Said he was a fair hand with a fiddle, too.”
Don’t react. Don’t react. Feign borderline-bored curiosity. Otherwise, don’t react. How long had it been since he’d even picked up a fiddle? During the war?
“That relative of mine, he mustered out of the Army on July first of 1865 in Louisville, Kentucky.”
Oh, boy.
“He left Louisville that day by steamship, headed home to Portsmouth.”
Ian closed his eyes behind the lieutenant’s back but resisted the urge to keep them closed very long. By the time the man turned to face him, he’d opened his eyes. Corporal Daniel Clark. He remembered him.
“He got off the steamship in Warsaw to buy gifts for his mama and baby sister. He didn’t get back in time to catch it before it headed on toward Cincinnati. So he bought himself a horse and rode cross-country.” The man’s gaze danced across the camp on the far side of the hill. “He stopped to camp that first night along the Licking River.”
The hair on the back of Ian’s neck stood on end.
“Not long after dark, an animal attacked him. Nearly killed him.” Clark shook his head. “Said it was the biggest wolf he’d ever seen. The animal was crazed, he said. Tore him apart something fierce, and he passed out. When he came to, it was gone, but he knew he was dying because his injuries were so severe. Right there on the riverbank, he made his peace with God and surrendered to death.”
Ian’s stomach pitched. That scenario was far too familiar. Only difference, he’d killed his attacker.
“Imagine his surprise when he woke up not dead. He thought it was a miracle. When the full moon came, something interesting happened.” The lieutenant grinned and caught Ian’s gaze. “But, then, I suspect you know something about that, Private.”
Heart in his throat, Ian pointed to his own chest. “Me, sir?”
“Yessirree.” Clark cocked his head then chuckled. “After all, you are the Ian Campbell he told us about. I can only assume you were attacked by the same wolf he was, and like him, you survived.”
“What makes you think I’m that Ian Campbell? Do you know how old I’d have to be?” Seventy-four actually.
“As a matter of fact, I do, because that relative of mine was my pa. I believe you and he share the same secret, as does Private Mitchell here.” He smirked. “Unless you two have another sort of relationship. The kind the military wouldn’t like.”
Puzzled, Ian glanced at Brett, who gave him a look that spoke of just as much confusion. “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”
“Do you like women, Private?”
Oh! He snorted. “Sir, Brett and I aren’t that kind of friend. Believe me.”
Brett choked then laughed. “Most definitely not. I may like the man, but there are limits.”
There didn’t seem to be much point in keeping up a pretense. At least, not with Lieutenant Clark. Ian took a deep breath and smiled. “I remember Daniel Clark. He was a good man. He loved his family. Wrote a lot of letters back and forth to his ma and sister especially. He laughed easy and often, never had difficulty finding the pleasant little things in life. And I’m afraid I haven’t picked up a fiddle since the war.”
“That’s too bad. He enjoyed listening to you play. I kind of hoped I’d get to hear you.”
“How is Daniel?”
The man’s humor fell away. “He died a couple of years ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Clark nodded. “He died fighting another wolf who’d gone after a woman and her small children. He took the guy out before he died, so at least his death wasn’t for nothing.”
“Small comfort at times for you, I’m sure.” Ian’s heart hurt for the loss. “How about your mother?”
“She just moved to Cincinnati to be near my youngest sister and her family. She didn’t see much point in holding onto the farm with Pa gone.”
“Did he... uh... Turn her?”
“No. He said he wasn’t willing to do that, even when she almost demanded it when I was a boy. Said he couldn’t curse someone else.”
“I understand.”
Clark cocked his head. “Is it really that heavy of a burden, that you consider yourselves cursed?”
“We don’t get to stay in one place much, at least not where we might get to know people. It’s a solitary life. A violent one.”
“True enough.” The lieutenant smiled, a bit sadly Ian thought. “Then there’s the fact you’re enslaved by the full moon.”
He nodded then glanced at Brett, who didn’t look particularly happy with the turn of events, but neither did he appear anxious about it. Good? Bad? Ian wasn’t sure.
“That brings up an interesting question.” Clark folded his arms over his chest. “How did you two think to hide what you are during the full moon? This environment isn’t exactly conducive to keeping such a secret.”
“Truth be told, I hadn’t given it much thought.” He looked to his friend for ideas.
Brett shrugged. “Since I wasn’t sure what it’d be like here, I hadn’t given it a whole lot of thought until the last few days. With each passing day, I find myself wondering more and more if it’ll even be possible for us to serve in the military, being what we are, and someone not find out.”
“I can’t speak to what’ll happen when you leave Camp Greene, but maybe I can help while you’re here. I’ve got a couple of weeks to figure something out.”
Brett frowned. “You’d do that? Put your career in jeopardy to help us?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because my pa spent his life alone until he met my ma. Every time he met another wolf, they tried to kill him. He always yearned for the company of his own kind, but he never found it. The fact you two have become friends in the short time you’ve been here... well, I think he would approve whole-heartedly. I also believe he’d want me to help any way I can. You certainly have the skills to help beat back the Germans, and the military can’t be permitted to find out what you are.”
“Yes, sir. That would definitely be bad.”
“What I don’t understand is why you’d take the chance?”
Ian half-smiled at Brett, who raised a brow. “Well, sir, I believe in this country, and this war is clear-cut and just. The Germans are trying to take over, and we need to stop them. If we don’t fight for freedom, who will?”
Clark grinned. “The British, for one.”
Brett snorted and smirked. “Sir, you’ll find I don’t have much love for them. I’ve fought to keep their hands off this country and their monarchy from dictating and oppressing American lives. I don’t consider them much different from the Germans.”
“I hope they can prove themselves to you, Private Mitchell. Things have changed. They’re our allies in this war, not the enemy.”
“We shall see.”
The lieutenant smiled. “Anyway, you two probably should get to camp. I’ll see what I can come up with to help cover you for the next full moon. We’ll take them one at a time. Sound good to you?”
“Sounds good, sir.” Ian nodded and smiled. A human allying himself with werewolves. Who’da thought?
* * *
Sunday, September 30, 1917
Two hours until moonrise
The door to the tent opened, and another private stuck his head in the door. “Private Mitchell, Private Campbell, Lieutenant Clark would like to see you immediately. He’s this side of the Mess Hall.”
“Thank you.” Ian nodded to the man, who gave him a distracted smile and left. He glanced at Brett. “It’s about time. Nothing like waiting until the last minute, eh? I was beginning to think he forgot.”
“We’ve still got a couple of hours. Let’s see what he came up with.”
They found Clark outside the Mess Hall as promised. He motioned for them to follow him and led them to an isolated spot just outside camp, away from prying eyes and ears with a clear view all around to know if anyone approached.
“I’m sorry it took so long to get back to you. Things have been a bit crazy. An order of equipment arrived today, but it wasn’t what we requested. Why they think we need a mountain of currycombs and mess pans, I have no idea. What we really need are ammo belts, guns, and bayonets so the men aren’t practicing with sticks and wooden guns.” He shook his head with a frown of disgust. “So, here’s the thing. I got permission from the chain of command for the two of you to make a supply run. I managed to arrange for some of the equipment we need, but I need you to go get it.”
