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

by Terry Yates

  CHAPTER 65

  The group moved stealthily down the highway. No cars had come their way in hours. The townsfolk must’ve been told to steer clear of the place and took the advice literally. Good for them, bad for Potts’ crew, who had been walking most of the night. The humidity was stifling. There was no cool air flowing on that summer night. As a matter of fact, there wasn’t much air at all. Although they kept their eyes and ears open, the sound of the woods on each side of them gave them a little comfort, because they could hear the crickets, cicadas, frogs, and other creatures of the night. At first, everyone, sans Potts, of course, would jump whenever they heard a deer, a wolf, or a coyote, but soon settled down when they remembered that a werewolf would make a lot more noise.

  Potts lead the group, mostly walking silently until something needed to be said. To Potts, this was a mission, and it seemed to be understood between the group, that unless he said something, they kept their eyes and ears open, the only sound being their boots on the pavement and Williams’ wheezing. The kid was so fat, Potts swore that he could hear him sweat.

  The five of them had been walking most of the night, only stopping once for water and a ten-minute break. During that break, Mary Sue re-adjusted Potts’ bandage much to the Colonel’s chagrin, but he allowed it. Potts didn’t know much about the fairer sex. He’d been with many women in his life, but not since he was a kid with Abbey Walling, had he been in love, but he had a feeling that the sheriff needed to do something to stay busy. She seemed close to Murphy, so she was probably just staying busy to keep her mind off of him.

  The group had probably walked four miles when they heard a howl in the distance, followed by several more. The four stopped frozen in place. Potts, for his part, kept walking, then slowed down to a stroll.

  “How many and how far, Sheriff?” Potts asked over his shoulder.

  “Five of them…three miles,” Mary Sue answered.

  “Shit!” Potts muttered, looking at his watch. “I suppose we could wait ‘em out.”

  “Sounds good to me,” replied everyone.

  “But if that’s our crew out there…or someone’s in trouble…” Potts said to himself. “Come on!” Potts ordered, straightening his backpack and checking his weapons.

  Without another word, he began to jog. The four looked at him in wonder as he disappeared into the darkness. They all looked at one another as if trying to fathom how a short one-eye man pushing fifty could run in this humidity, carrying a backpack full of God Knew What.

  “You two go ahead,” Mary Sue told Jefferson and Jordan. “I’ll hang a while with the Corporal here. These boots weren’t made for miles of blacktop road. My feet are killing me.”

  The two privates nodded to her and began to jog ahead.

  “Thank you,” Williams told Mary Sue as the two began to walk.

  “I meant it…my feet are killing me.”

  The two walked in silence for the first few minutes, Williams’ labored breathing and a couple of bullfrogs being the only sounds that they were hearing at the moment. Mary Sue halfway wanted to hear the werewolves again, just to make sure of where they were.

  “Were you and Mr. Murphy close?” Williams asked, breaking the silence.

  Mary Sue hadn’t been expecting the question.

  “Yeah…well…sort of…I mean…I’ve known him my whole life.” Mary Sue stuttered, trying not to cry.

  The man she’d spent the night with and had been mooning over all morning long, was literally dead-in-a-ditch, and she’d had to walk away from him…and everyone else, for that matter. She knew that she was useless as a sheriff at the moment. She would follow Potts tonight, but tomorrow, she would go back. They were her kin and her friends…the ones that were left anyway. Turning her back on them now would be like shitting on Rex’ memory. He wouldn’t have taken off. He would’ve stayed and helped, so that’s what she’d do, but first…she had to survive till sunup.

  CHAPTER 66

  First, they heard howling in the distance, followed by gunshots. The group halted as Potts looked at his watch. It was four a.m. The son-of-a-bitches couldn’t have waited another couple of hours until daylight, could they? The fighting was at least a half-mile away.

  “All right,” Potts started, checking his new pistols. We don’t have any rifles, so we may have to get good and close. Understood?” Everyone silently nodded in unison. “Son…what about you?” he asked Jordan.

  “I told ya’, Colonel. I’m right behind you.”

  Potts nodded. “Jefferson?”

  “With ya’, Sir.”

  “Williams, get there when you can get there,” Potts sighed. “Sheriff?” He approached Mary Sue. “You’re on your own now. My advice would be for you to follow us for the time being. Maybe we can scare us up a vehicle and we’ll all go back and give your town a good look-see, but right now, my business is down that road.”

  “I’ll go, but I need you ask you a question first.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Why are we doing this? Why are we running down this road? Your people could be miles away by now, and we’re chasing them on foot.”

  Potts listened as the howling and gunshots continued.

  “Because the people that I am responsible for went this direction,” Potts answered, pointing down the highway.

  “The children…I forgot.”

  “Among others. Now, I’m sorry about your friend back there, Sheriff, but we’ve got more important things to deal with right now, and the things we’re dealing with right now, I think you’re up for. You didn’t pick out that cannon you’ve got strapped on for nothing.”

  Mary Sue could feel herself blush at Potts’ compliment. She looked into his face, nodded her head, then reached up and straightened his bandage again. More gunshots brought them back to reality.

  “Let’s move!” Potts barked, adjusting his eye-patch and replacing his cap with his helmet. “Come on, Williams! I’ll make a sergeant out of you yet!”

  Once again, Potts turned and began to run down the highway, but this time, it was at almost a full sprint. Jordan turned to Jefferson, his red hair and freckles almost glowing under the moonlight, and smiled.

  “How ‘bout we scare us up some werewolves, Mr. Jefferson?” he asked.

  “How did you say it, Mr. Jordan…if your waitin’ awn may’…yer’ backin’ ep!”

  “Couldn’t have said better myself.”

  The two checked their pistols, shook hands, looked back at Mary Sue and Williams, and just like before, began to sprint down the highway.

  “How’s your mile?” Mary Sue asked Williams, looking down at her boots.

  “I thought Col. Potts said that it was a half-mile,” Williams came back.

  “Who’s from around here, him or me?”

  “Well…you are.”

  “There you go then.”

  “A mile it is, I guess.”

  “Come on, I’ll stay with you,” Mary Sue told the fat man, beckoning him forward.

  Williams nodded. “Chafed legs, here I come.”

  The two began a slow jog, which lasted approximately thirty seconds before Williams could go no further, and they slowed again to a walk. She wondered if Potts thought about the ones he was leaving behind as he ran toward the ones ahead. Those things could be circling behind them. They could be walking…or slowly jogging…into a trap.

  CHAPTER 67

  Dawn was approaching as Potts, Jefferson, and Jordan arrived on a scene that was almost surreal to all three of them, mainly because none of them had slept in almost twenty-four hours, plus the scene before them was like something out of a futuristic movie. The truck that had carried Kyler and the others was parked on the side of the highway, half on and half off the road. The truck had come to a sudden halt, because there were several feet of skid marks trailing behind the tires. There was a small ravine where a shoulder would normally be and below the ravine, was a meadow surrounded by woods, and in the meadow lay one of the Army trucks. By the amount o
f bodies that littered the area around the truck, Potts was guessing that it was the one they used as an ambulance. Most of the bodies were dressed in hospital gowns. There was a soldier lying dead, and another who had an oxygen mask over his face, while he lay in the grass, eyes closed. The soldiers must’ve been driving and riding shotgun. Shit, Potts thought to himself…this was one deadly freakin’ road.

  There were several civilians…or parts of civilians also scattered across the meadow. It looked like they had tried to come to the rescue and found out that werewolves weren’t deer or ducks. These creatures not only didn’t run away, the rednecks found out that these creatures were as well armed as they were, and loved to dance up close and personal. There were also several naked, dead bodies. They were dead werewolves, several of whom, looked extremely young.

  Out in the meadow, they watched as FranAnne and Sam were shooting at a werewolf as it was running toward the woods. Zack Olsen raised a rifle, aimed, and shot what looked to be like a werewolf changing back into its human form and was also trying to flee. They could tell that it was a female who was now only covered in places with hair. It appeared as if a part of her snout was still showing through, but they couldn’t be too sure. She was too far and running away from them. Zack’s rifle kicked and the female went down immediately, a large hole in her back. Another half-werewolf, a man, was trying to fight off Joe, who was shredding its back tendon. Potts didn’t see Kyler.

  The trio took out their pistols and ran down into the dell. Jefferson and Jordan both began to shoot at a full werewolf that had been playing dead, and then had suddenly jumped up and began running toward the woods. Jordan reached down and picked up a rifle. Aiming it quickly, Jordan fired the rifle just as the creature made it into the woods. They heard a yelp, then the rustling of foliage, then nothing. Potts ran to the last werewolf standing that Joe was biting. When he got within twenty feet, Potts raised his pistol and fired, the werewolf dropping to the ground. In case it was playing Possum, Joe bit down on back of the thing’s neck and pulled away a large piece of skin, the blood running down into the monster’s neck. The last one was now dead.

  “Where’s Kyler?” Potts yelled to FranAnne, who pointed to the woods. Just as she did, Potts heard gunshots coming from the woods.

  Potts cocked his pistol and ran into the woods, staying alert for any of the bastards that might be hiding in there. He dodged tree after tree, trying to follow the sound. He heard another shot and began to run faster.

  After a few yards, Potts saw daylight through the trees and began a full sprint, following the sunlight until suddenly, he found himself in another meadow. Normally, he would’ve found this to be the most beautiful and serene spot he’d ever seen. It was hidden, surrounded by trees on all sides. It even had a little pond sitting just in front of the back grove of trees. Right now though, Potts was watching Kyler in a feeble attempt to shoot one weakened werewolf and one half-werewolf, who were headed for the second woods. Potts could see the red laser zigzagging across both of the monster’s backs. He fired twice, but still the creatures ran. Potts raised his pistol and fired five quick shots, both runners falling into the high grass.

  Kyler suddenly spun around and aimed his gun at Potts, who was replacing his in his holster.

  “Kyler?”

  His hand shook as he continued to aim the revolver at Potts, who could see that the young doctor’s eyes were wide and glazed, with an expression of complete confusion on his face. Potts, for his part, just stared at Kyler until finally, he lowered his pistol to the ground, then turned back around.

  “How do you do it, Colonel?” Kyler almost yelled, his voice cracking. “How DO you do it?”

  Potts looked over at the area where the two werewolves had fallen. White smoke was rising from two different places in the grass.

  “Do what, Kyler?” Potts asked, walking toward him, while keeping his eye on Kyler’s gun hand. He was waving it around toward the ground, and it would be Potts’ luck for Kyler to shoot him without even aiming…hell, without even looking for that matter.

  “All of this!” he screamed, his back still turned, now with both hands in the air.

  “All of what?” Potts put his hand on the grip of his pistol. He was staying loud and making sure Kyler could hear him moving behind him, so that he wouldn’t suddenly startle him. He’d had close friends bug out in battle. Friends who couldn’t quit shooting even after the enemy was dead. They’d get wild-eyed and keep shooting at anything that moved, including close friends that they didn’t recognize for an instant or, who knows, forever.

  “This carnage! This killing! This…death!”

  “If you’re gonna be a doctor, Kyler, you’re sure as shit gonna have to deal with death.”

  Potts gently but firmly put his hand on Kyler’s arm, then slid his hand down, keeping the arm face down, as to make it more difficult for Kyler to shoot. Potts slid his hand down to the back of Kyler’s, and then took the pistol from his hand. After placing it temporarily in the back of his pants, he remained standing behind Kyler.

  “Now, what the shit are you talking about Kyler?”

  Kyler dropped his head, then shook it.

  “Dustin Lawson’s dead,” he said softly.

  “The skinny kid?”

  “Yeah…one of them got him. Pulled him right out through the top of the truck.”

  “Jesus…”

  “Heather’s gone nuts. Listen to me…gone nuts…I sound like you.”

  “Is she like Olsen was on the island?”

  “Yes, but just the opposite. Rob Olsen didn’t say a word, Heather won’t stop screaming. I managed to give her a sedative before…all of this. I left Lauren and Joe with her.”

  “The last time I saw the dog, he was fighting one of those things.”

  “He was supposed to stay with Lauren and Heather.”

  “Well, he strayed. What happened here, Kyler?”

  “Excuse me…” came a voice from their right.

  Kyler and Potts quickly turned toward the backwoods. There, standing just in front of the woods, stood a portly man, naked, his hands over his crotch. By looking at him, he was either in his mid-twenties or early forties, his receding hairline and flabby body, not helping with the aging hypothesis. He had a small bullet hole in his side, probably from one of the rednecks’ guns. There were also two small, purple round welts on his chest. Kyler remembered both Nicholas Klefka and Opal Munn having those welts after having been shot when they were werewolves. They were wounds from regular ammunition that were healing at what looked to be a fairly rapid rate.

  “Could you help me, please?” The man looked positively about as frightened as anyone could who had just woken up in the woods naked. His eyes seemed unfocused, which told them that he must wear glasses, thick ones.

  “Sure,” Potts told the man, moving toward him.

  “Thank you,” the man answered meekly.

  Potts approached the man and took him by the arm, allowing him to keep his crotch covered.

  “Just go between those two trees there,” Potts told him, pointing toward the front woods. The man was having trouble concentrating. He couldn’t help but stare at Potts’ face. “Right there,” Potts said softly, “Between those two trees, then straight ahead.”

  “Straight ahead?” the man muttered.

  “Yeah. There are a couple of soldiers there that’ll help you out…okay?”

  “Thank you,” the man muttered again as he began to walk.

  As the man moved past him, Potts swiftly and with lightning speed, took his revolver from its holster, aimed, and then shot the man in the back of the head before Kyler even had a chance to see it coming. The back of the man’s head exploded as the bullet exited his forehead, the force of impact causing the man to hit the ground hard and quickly.

  Having not expecting it, Kyler jumped, then stared at the man, who now had smoke seeping out of the back of his head.

  “God damn you!” Kyler screamed, spinning around in a circle,
and waving his arms in frustration. “Its just kill! Maim! Destroy! Kill some more…and kill some more, with you, isn’t it, Colonel!”

  “It’s a bitch savin’ the world, Kyler!” Potts yelled at the doctor’s back once again. “Do you think you get any credit for it?”

  “I don’t want any credit!”

  “Sure you do. Everyone wants to be appreciated for giving their all and standing tall in the face of adversity, but you don’t get it in war, Doctor. You know who gets it…the President, the generals, and the dead…not the survivors or the wounded!”

  “But I never wanted to be a part of…of…saving the world!” Kyler hollered back, swiping at a tall blade of grass with his hand, and receiving in return, the equivalent of a paper cut for his trouble.