by Terry Yates
Naturally, all stations had their cameras in LA. The two watched as different reporters retold the tale of the night before. Not only had there been scores of werewolves to deal with, but also much of Los Angeles and a lot of the Pacific Coast going in both directions, had sunk into the earth or the ocean. There had never been that much destruction since the dinosaurs roamed the Earth.
“Shit!” Kyler exclaimed.
“Shit is right,” Potts retorted. “It’s worse there than it was in Florida.
Kyler was urinating while trying to listen to the news broadcasts.
“Well, I’ll be goddamned,” he heard Potts say, his voice still weak, but a little better.
“What?” he yelled back while trying to finish peeing. “What?”
“I’ll be goddamned.”
“What?”
“You oughta see this.”
“Dammit,” he muttered as he finished.
He washed his hands as quickly as possible, not even bothering to dry them. He had to know what Potts was teasing him about.
When he ran inside the room, he looked up at the TV.
“Well, I be goddamned,” he muttered.
“He was in charge of the whole thing…chased the leader around in both forms. He lost him when the earthquake began.”
“I didn’t know he was a Green Beret,” Kyler said, stunned.
“The insignia’s on his uniform.”
“Sorry, I don’t know my military uniforms.”
The two watched as the Green Beret, one arm in a sling, gave a brief interview about what had gone down in LA. Under his face, was the caption…Lt. Jack Dorsey. It was Dorsey, the young soldier who had rescued them by helicopter from No Name Island that had been chasing Simon Shoals/The Lobo.
“Well, I be goddamned,” Potts sighed one last time, before Kyler heard a slight snore coming from his nose.
He looked down at the colonel, adjusted his tubes, and then turned off the television and the lights before exiting the room.
He walked out into the hallway just in time to see Lauren disappearing around a corner, several pieces of meat in her hand. Must be going to feed the pooch, he thought. He was so glad to see that those two were pals again.
His room was only six doors down from Potts’. Their group had all of their rooms, even those that weren’t injured, on the same floor. Kyler stopped in front of his room, 345, and looked one more time out into the hallway. Things looked like they were going pretty smoothly at the moment. His conscious told him that he should ask if there was anything that he could do to help, but at the moment, he was just too exhausted. He’d have to feel guilty tomorrow. Besides, they knew where he was if they needed him. Right now, he just wanted to go in his room, kick off his shoes, hop into bed, turn on the telly, and then just let sleeping dogs lie.
He opened the door to his room, and swept his arm across the wall, looking for the light switch. As the door closed behind him, the room became completely dark. He finally found the light switch and flipped it into the up position. Nothing happened…the room remained dark. Son-of-a-bitch.
As he turned to reopen the door, he heard a noise. He didn’t think much about it at first…probably a box of Kleenex or a bowl of uneaten Jell-O, or something. Instinctively, he turned his head toward the sound. Before his eyes had even adjusted to the dark, he had an epiphany. He wasn’t alone. A silhouette stood about ten feet away. At first, he thought…he hoped…that it had somehow been a reflection, and that he could have a jolly good laugh about it. But it wasn’t a reflection…it was a person.
He knew that he should say something, but he didn’t. He just remained as still as possible. Whatever it was looked to be a couple of inches shorter than his own six-foot-one. At least it wasn’t a werewolf…unless it was a short one. He wasn’t sure what to do, but he knew that he didn’t want to hang around any longer than he had to. Okay, he thought, if you don’t want to make the first move, I will.
Kyler slowly backed up to the door, trying to not look like he was moving. The silhouette though, didn’t move. He felt his back touch the door. Good. He took his right hand and slowly raised it up behind him, searching for the door handle. Where the hell was it, he thought. He slowly looked down, trying to find the handle. As soon as he did, he heard a noise and looked up…but not for long, because whatever it was, slammed into him, pinning him against the door with its own body. His chest hurt as he felt a stitch break.
He tried to struggle against the body, but was either too weak from exhaustion, or else just too weak. The two were almost chest-to-chest and cheek-to-cheek. He could feel whisker stubble against his cheek. Oh great, he thought, I get the gay serial rapist.
Kyler decided to give it one last-ditch effort and began to struggle with everything he had left, but it did no good. He just couldn’t fight it.
“At least you could let me see who you are,” he told the person, whom he felt like he was almost slow dancing with.
“But, Richard,” came a hauntingly familiar voice…a voice that Kyler thought he would never hear again. “You know how fluorescent lights hurt my eyes.”
THE END
NEXT: FULL MOON WORLD
