FULL MOON COUNTRY (FULL MOON SERIES (vol. 2))

by Terry Yates

Kyler chuckled to himself as he stepped off of the porch…missing the first step and falling flat on his face on the grass.

  CHAPTER 15

  The next morning, Arnold and Martha Blum began their trek around the refugee camp followed by hundreds of media people and at least a thousand refugees, volunteers, and soldiers. Kyler stuck to the perimeter of the group, Michael having asked him that morning if he would go with him. Kyler had been about to decline, but decided that he’d love nothing more than to walk alongside Arnold Blum after their conversation the night before, and remain a constant thorn in his side…make it a long day for him, if you will. But he had to give ol’ Arnie credit…if it was bothering him having him hanging around, he wasn’t showing it. He smiled when he needed to and he looked concerned when he had to. Kyler thought that he might’ve seen a look of scorn come his way, but he couldn’t have sworn to it. Kyler did find himself a little miffed when Blum turned around while they were walking and told Michael to keep up. The kid was twelve with a broken leg, and his father was telling him to keep up.

  The group covered a large chunk of the acreage. Blum stopped and chatted with many of the refugees. He shook hands with the men and held the little old ladies, promising them that everything would be all right…just believe in God and Arnold. The group ate with the people. Kyler looked at the crowd that followed Blum, trying to separate the photographers from the sycophants that actually worked for him in capacities that Kyler couldn’t imagine. He wondered which ones fed him his food, which ones lit his cigars, and which ones wiped his ass.

  After lunch, Blum shook a few more hands, kissed a few more babies, and held a few more little old ladies, and made his way toward the helicopter pad where the helicopter was already loaded with everyone’s luggage. A microphone was set up and waiting for Arnold Blum and his magic words of comfort. Kyler watched from the ground as Arnold Blum stepped up to the mike, once again surrounded by the media. To Kyler, it seemed like there were even more still and video cameras than the night before. Where had they all come from?

  Kyler glowered as he watched the man captivate the crowd. He told them that everything would be all right just as soon as he talked to the President, and he made sure that they all knew that he was using a lot of his own money to finance the mass exodus of the refugees. He told them that while they were gone, all of his companies would merge together and build them all homes. They cheered as he worked them into a frenzy. Kyler couldn’t help but think of Jim Jones and his Guyana followers. By the end of his speech, the throng was cheering him. He gave a heartfelt goodbye and stepped back a few feet from the microphone. He put his arms around Martha and Michael as the cameras took as many pics as they could with the family in that pose. After a few seconds, he took his arms from around his family and stepped up to the mic once again.

  “You know, Folks…” he started.

  Folks…Kyler wanted to barf.

  “You know, Folks,” he continued after waving his hands for the crowd to settle down. “I want you good people to also remember the brave men and women that helped evacuate you…and I would also like to thank once again…in public…the man who saved my son Michael…”

  “You bastard,” Kyler muttered under his breath. “You wily bastard.” The son-of-a-bitch was going to get even with him for last night. He’d seen Kyler freeze in front of the cameras the night before, and he was going to put him through it again today. Shit.

  “Dr. Richard Kyler, M.D. Let’s here it for him! Let’s get him up here!”

  Arnold Blum stepped back from the mike and began to applaud Kyler, and then began to beckon him to the platform with his hands. That bastard. The smile on Blum’s face was pure malevolence.

  Kyler made his way onto the platform, keeping his back turned to the cameras for as long as he could. A smiling Martha and a grinning Michael were clapping for him as was the whole camp. Arnold Blum held his arm out and put it around Kyler. The two men were eye to eye and he could swear he saw the devil’s reflection in Blum’s eyes. Blum added pressure to Kyler’s shoulder and began to turn him around. Okay, this is it, Kyler thought. You win, Arnie. But as he turned to the cheering crowd, he found that he wasn’t nearly as nervous as he had been on the previous night. Perhaps it was because he could actually see the cameras and there were no blinding lights in his eyes or perhaps because he had already gone through it, and the fear was gone. He had jumped off of the high dive and survived. Sure, he was a little nervous. Being cheered by thousands of people would probably be a little overwhelming to most people. But since they were cheering and not booing, it made the going a little easier, and once he saw Sam, Zack, and FranAnne cheering for him…both Sam and FranAnne both whistling through their fingers, he almost felt at ease. Take that you arrogant son-of-a-bitch, he thought. There was only one person not cheering and clapping. Col. Potts. He stood near the platform, his face still heavily bandaged. He was wearing his fatigues, which Kyler knew he liked wearing more than the colonel suit. He just stood and watched the proceedings. He was half expecting to see the man smile at his predicament.

  Not to be outdone, Arnold Blum, pulling Kyler by the shoulder, stepped up to the microphone.

  “And how about a few words from the good doctor!” Blum screamed into the mike before pushing Kyler forward. Damn, Blum had checked him! “Come on, Dr. Kyler. A few words! Come on!” Blum moved him even closer to the mike, but also remained next to him. “Now, Dr. Kyler,” he continued. “We know that you were going to address these good people last night, but uh…” With this, the crowd began to chuckle. Yep, he’d been checked. “But seeing two thousand faces sort of made you a little nervous, didn’t it? And all of those lights and cameras…that must’ve been darn near petrifying. So, how do you feel now, Doctor?”

  Kyler looked across the crowd. Amazingly, he wasn’t nervous at all.

  “Well,” he started. “I wish I could preserve this time for posterity, but there don’t seem to be any cameras around,” he finished, pretending to search his pockets. Check and mate! He’d gotten him. The crowd roared and cheered, happy that the doctor didn’t lose his nerve this time. Arnold Blum stood smiling. His eyes told Kyler that, yes indeed, the doctor had won the round and the match.

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Blum said into the mike, pulling Kyler slightly backwards so that he could take the whole mike without actually pushing Kyler out of the way. “As we leave today, we promise to return and put everything in motion toward the restoration of this good state and, of course, its good people. Thank you!”

  With this, the crowd let out a roar as Arnold and Martha Blum waved at the crowd and began to move toward the helicopter. The applause was deafening, causing Kyler to cover his ears with his hands. As the Blum’s and their small entourage began to enter the military helicopter, Michael broke away and hobbled his way toward Kyler. When the boy reached him, he looked up. Kyler could see the boy’s eyes almost brimming over. Kyler felt his own about to well over.

  “Thank you again, Dr. Kyler,” Michael said, choking on his words.

  Kyler thought that their goodbye last night would’ve seen him through this moment, but it seemed harder now that Michael was actually about to hop in the helicopter and leave this nightmare. Kyler just nodded his head and smiled, afraid that he might choke.

  “Will you come and visit me sometime, Doctor?” Michael asked.

  Kyler looked at the helicopter where Arnold Blum sat watching the two. He could see a look of great disdain etched upon his face.

  “Of course, I will,” he answered the boy. “As soon as I can.”

  “Sir…” he started. “Will you keep an eye on Lauren…at least, check up on her?”

  “I give you my word, Michael,” he told him.

  Michael nodded his head, tears now running down his cheeks. He looked up at Kyler and put out his hand. Kyler hesitated. He knew that Michael was putting a front for his father, so he took Michael’s hand for a moment, squeezed it, and then pulled him to his chest. He could feel the boy
turn his head away from the family, so that they wouldn’t see his face, but Kyler could feel him shaking. The lad wanted to let it out, but he couldn’t…especially with Arnold watching him. Kyler could only hope that he didn’t return to his old ways.

  Michael pulled away from Kyler, wiped his eye, and tried to say goodbye, but the words stuck. He shook Kyler’s hand again, this time with a strong, firm grip. He nodded his head to him and began to hobble toward the helicopter. When he reached the door, he turned around one last time. He quickly scanned the crowd until he found Sam, FranAnne, and Zack. He waved timidly at them. The trio all waved back. Sam and FranAnne smiled and mouthed ‘bye’ to him. Zack stood stone faced, but waved. Michael hoped that Zack would be okay. He hadn’t been the same person since they’d gotten off the island. He seemed lost…more lost than Lauren, and even more lost than HE had been.

  Michael was about to turn away, when he caught something…someone…out of the corner of his eye. It was Col. Potts. He was neither cheering nor applauding…nor even smiling. He simply stood there, his bandaged face looking at Michael through his one eye. Michael knew that he could never have hugged Col. Potts, so instead, he put his crutches under one arm, and gave Potts the only thing he felt that he could give him. He saluted the colonel. The crowd ‘ahhed’, thinking that he was saluting them all like JFK II at his father’s funeral. The whole group returned his salute, but he held it, still looking at Potts. After a moment, Potts raised his hand to his head and returned the salute. He nodded his head at Michael, the steel blue from his one eye almost glimmering against the sun. Michael put his crutches back under each arm and moved to the helicopter. One of Arnold Blum’s men stood next to the open door. He took the crutches from Michael and helped him inside, following behind him. As the helicopter blades began to turn, a jacketed arm reached out and closed the door. The crowd cheered and waved as the helicopter began to rise. Kyler couldn’t see Michael. Arnold was seated next to the window, of course, so that he could wave to the crowd, and they could watch him as if he were their guardian angel rising up to the heavens.

  As the helicopter began to disappear from view, the crowd…and Kyler…began to disperse. Kyler was just making his way down the platform steps, when he thought he saw something…no someone…standing next to a small grove of trees. It couldn’t be! Could it? The build…the hair…it had to be.

  Kyler skipped the last few platform steps and began to make his way through the crowd. People were patting him on the shoulder and saying what he presumed were nice things to him, but he couldn’t be bothered. He continued to snake his way through the throng of people, dodging this one and scooting around that one, the whole time trying to keep his eyes on the trees. He would lose sight for a few seconds, but quickly find the spot again. With everyone moving around him, he could see the spot, but couldn’t tell if the person whom he thought was there or gone. He felt like he was watching Cops or The Blair Witch Project, his eyes, like the cameras in those shows, not being able to focus on one point.

  He finally exited the crowd and began to run toward the small grove, which only sat about twenty yards ahead. He sprinted to the spot where he thought he’d seen Zora LeMarque standing, watching Arnold Blum, but when he got there, she was nowhere to be found.

  “Hello? Zora?” he asked aloud, spinning around in a circle.

  He called several more times, but he never got an answer. If she had been there, she wasn’t any longer. Had he really seen her? He was beginning to feel unsure of himself. She had left the camp days ago. Why would she come back? It made no sense. She couldn’t be here. If she’d been there the whole time, Sam, FranAnne, or Zack would’ve probably seen her. He must’ve been seeing things. He looked down at the grass. It didn’t look like it had been disturbed. There were no tracks or any sign that she had been there. But it seemed so real. He would’ve sworn on fourteen Gideon bibles that he’d seen her, but all of the evidence pointed to the contrary. Come on, Kyler, he thought to himself. Admit it. You miss her and now you’re seeing love wraiths.

  He took one last look around. If she was in the trees somewhere, she was well hidden. Even though no one was around to see him, he felt somehow foolish and embarrassed. If anyone had seen him, he would’ve just…before he could finish the thought, he looked up to see Sam and FranAnne watching him. Shit. Their faces were keeping nothing secret, both looking at him as if he had three heads.

  “What the hell, Doc?” Sam said loudly as the two began to walk toward him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I thought I had,” was all that Kyler could say as he almost tripped over a large rock.

  CHAPTER 16

  ‘Wolfpack.com’ ‘Lychonlovers.com.’ ‘Silverbullett’. ‘FullMoonFever’. These websites were bullshit. Simon had been looking at every werewolf website that he could find. It had been five days since he had been bitten by Scott Cargile, but there had been no full moon. They were coming and going at odd intervals. He wanted to know…had to know…if he was going to become a werewolf. The leg that Scott the Werewolf had taken two large chunks out of was almost healed. The cuts that had covered his face and body healed within a day.

  Simon didn’t have a computer, so he had to go the library to get on the internet. He wanted to find out as much as he could about werewolves. He’d had to wait for almost an hour because the library was tiny and only had three computers, and by the time he reserved one, he was sixth in line. Once he got the computer, it only gave him twenty-five minutes, and he might need ten times that to find every website dealing with werewolves. He’d hit four sites during his first twenty-five minutes, and six on his second. Most of them were nothing but people who thought that they werewolves, wanted to be werewolves, or hunted werewolves. He needed one that could give him actual information.

  He sat down for his third round of twenty-five minutes. He was grossed out. The obese Mexican lady that had just gotten up from a twenty-minute Facebooking session. She’d spent the first five minutes trying to figure out how to get on the internet. The pad on the chair never came back up after she stood up, and it was disgustingly warm.

  His first attempt at a werewolf site on his third round was a success. He hit a website called “Lycanthropa.com”. It wasn’t like the others. It was, but it wasn’t as far out as the others. This one seemed to know what it was talking about. There was no Prof. Wolfgang emceeing the site for you. No Willie the Werewolf howling as he guided the reader around. Lycanthropa.com was filled with nothing but facts and folklore of the werewolf. You clicked on something that interested you and then…pow…there’s your information. He clicked on an icon that said “Fact or Fiction” and up came a page divided down the center. On the left side of the page was a numbered column with the word “Fact” above it and on the right a column with “Fiction” above it. He read the fact side first. Facts about werewolves. The first couple of things he knew. A werewolf turns at every full moon…even if there is considerable cloud cover. Hmm, that was news to him. He thought that there couldn’t be a cloud in the sky for a man to turn into a werewolf. Well. You learn something new every day. The average height of a werewolf is between six-and-a-half to eight-and-a-half feet. It also said that not all werewolves are exactly alike. It said that some retain their human strength until they turn, while others are considerably stronger than they used to be…not as strong as when they were the werewolf, mind you, but still considerably stronger. Their sense of smell is considerably heightened and they gain many animal…in their case…canine senses, such as knowing who was a werewolf and who wasn’t, even in their human form. They have certain animal instincts such as self and specie preservation. A werewolf must be invited to join a pack. They can’t simply walk in and say, “I’m a werewolf like you. Where do I set my bags?”

  Simon scrolled down. The “You have ten minutes left” icon appeared on the screen and he wanted to take in as much as he possibly could. He couldn’t sit and wait for a fourth round. He had to pick up a lode and head east all the
way to Los Angeles, and he needed to get some rest before he took the long trip. He took in as much as he could in the ten minutes left, then stood up, and smiled at the young girl behind him who was waiting on his computer, and looking extremely annoyed. She looked to be about sixteen, blonde with green eyes. Hmm…he thought…need a ride somewhere? She would look good in his collection. Simon held his hand out beckoning her to sit down. She scowled at him as she brushed by him and took the seat. Oh, you little bitch…you little, little, bitch. Simon smiled, then turned around. As he walked out of the library, he winked at Miss Doris, the octogenarian who had been the librarian most of her life. She smiled back at him timidly. Probably didn’t know him anymore. He’d known Miss Doris his whole life. Her cheese must be slipping off her cracker, and she was trying to hide it. She’d always been so sweet to him. He found the thought of her losing her faculties very sad. Very soon, he would probably have to start going to her house to check up on her. He wouldn’t mind. She didn’t have anyone and neither did he. She would be all alone, and there were crazies out there who would love to find a little old lady by herself to rob or hurt. They’d better never cross my path, he thought to himself as he walked out of the library.

  CHAPTER 17

  Kyler looked around the supermarket aisle sheepishly. He’d just picked up a can of tomato sauce when all of the cans around it tumbled off of the shelf and onto the floor, several of them splitting open and sending the thick, red liquid splattering out in all directions, covering himself and a boy of about two with tomato sauce. The mother, who had been a few feet away, and therefore wasn’t splattered, glowered at Kyler.

  Kyler muttered an apology and attempted to find something to clean the now red diapered child with. The toddler’s mother looked at him as if she had just been vomited on, and wanted satisfaction.