The Lycan Chronicles

by Schroeder, Brent

  “You got it, Sheriff.”

  There just went half of Dave’s bar business for the night.

  “In the old days, we would just kill that fool,” Donovan sneered.

  He grabbed JD’s arm to get his full attention, showing signs of frustration. “JD, look. Is this over losing your son? You know you could’ve brought him to me, I would have saved him,” he stated. “But, it’s still not your fault that this happened, so stop beating yourself up over it.” He paused, then said, “Things happen, that we all wish were different.”

  JD’s mind drifted back to that cold, winter night, when he and his son were out hunting in the woods; it had just snowed, making the deer tracks very easy to follow. They spotted a trophy-sized deer and were just about to close in on their prey, when a gunshot rang out. JD watched in horror, as his son dropped to the ground, rushing to his side, just as his son’s eyes were glazing over under the moonlight… dying right there, in his father’s arms.

  A hunter, who’d been tracking in the same area, shot at the same prey, accidentally hitting JD’s son. Realizing what he’d done, the hunter turned and ran away. JD was too shocked to give chase… he just cradled his boy in his arms in the middle of the snow-filled woods, for what seemed like hours.

  Donovan was getting frustrated, unable to get JD’s attention, so he grabbed him, full-on, by the shoulders. “You walk away now… what are you going to do? Spend the rest of your life on all fours? Chasing cars?”

  “What the fuck did you just say?” JD asked, finally giving Donovan his full attention. “You would love that, wouldn’t you? That would be something you could hold over my head, for all of eternity. I would NEVER bring my son back as a Vampire,” he scowled, looking Donovan, dead in his eyes. “Don’t you ever bring that up again… do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  Donovan backed up a few steps and answered, “Settle down… yes, I understand. If you’re not going to be Sheriff, what are you gonna do then? Be a gun for hire? Don’t forget, JD, we started this town together for a reason,” Donovan reminded him. “I can’t keep everyone in control, without your help... everything will fall apart!”

  “Why the hell am I cut off?” Casbon shouted above everyone. “Goddamnit, I want a fucking beer… son of a fucking bitch!” He took his empty mug and smashed it on the floor, before crawling over the bar to grab another glass, attempting to fill it from the tap.

  “I’ll be right back,” JD said, walking over and grabbing Casbon by the back of his pants, yanking him off of the bar. He sat him down and got right up in his face, “I noticed you’re going sticker-free, Casbon,” he said, giving him a good smack on his arm. “That’s not a good look for you, if you know what I mean.”

  “I… I…”

  “You fucking asshole, you got a sweet deal here. You get a hundred grand a year and a nice house to live in,” JD sharply said.

  “And, you didn’t have to do a lick of work for any of it… what the fuck is wrong with you? Do I need to give you a good ass kicking to remind you?”

  “I know, I know… you’re right,” Casbon slurred. “Just, don’t kick my ass. I’m listening, loud n clear.”

  “All we ask is that you stay in line and donate when you’re supposed to. When you don’t, then we got a serious problem.”

  JD poked him in the chest, making sure his point got across. “Got it?”

  “Sorry, JD,” Casbon quietly said back, humbled. “I’ll sober up and go down in the morning.”

  “Good idea. And, if I catch you drinking and driving again, you will not pass go, you will not collect your pay. You’ll either disappear, or you will go to jail. I got a nice, ice-cold cell in the back of my station… with your name on it. Comprende?”

  “Okay, okay,” Casbon answered back, leaning away from JD. “You don’t have to be such a dick about it.”

  “Don’t push it, Casbon!” JD said, lifting him by the back of his shirt and shoving him stumbling towards the front door.

  Basil was on his way to the restroom and he gave Casbon a swift kick in the back of his pants, sending him flying out the door.

  “Thanks, but that wasn’t necessary,” JD said to him, kind of glad that he did.

  Basil just smiled. “I know.”

  On his way back over to Donovan’s table, JD kept his eye out the front window to make sure Casbon didn’t try to drive out of there.

  “I’m very glad that you’re so concerned with my welfare,” JD said, turning back to Donovan. “But, it’s none of your damn business,” he said. “I’ll let you know of my decision, when I’m good and ready.”

  “But, it is my business, JD,” Donovan challenged. “Remember what it was like to live in the outside world… or have you forgotten? It hasn’t been that long.”

  “If you don’t mind, Donovan,” JD returned, ignoring his question, “I’d like to get my food and get the hell out of here. We’ll talk about this another time… when I feel like it.”

  JD stepped to the end of the bar, as Dave slid an open paper bag from the other end of the countertop, walking it along the bar and stopping when he reached the sheriff. “Here’s your sandwich.”

  Dave dropped a vial of brown liquid into the bag, before rolling it up. “And, there’s your shake,” he said, with a wink and a smile. “Go easy… Skinny says its kick-ass.”

  “Thanks, Dave,” JD said, cracking a smile for the first time that day.

  Grabbing the bag, JD made his way towards the exit, keeping his eyes locked forward, trying not to make eye contact with Donovan on his way out.

  “Have a great evening, Sheriff!” Dave called out.

  JD just waved his hand in the air, as he stepped out into the brisk, wintery air. “Come on, Nanook… let’s go home.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Behind Dave’s Grill was a secret yohimbe lab that was run by a poor excuse of a Vampire named Skinny Limpkins. Skinny didn’t have a tooth left in his head and he kept his greasy, salt and pepper hair pulled back in a long ponytail. He worked in his lab, night and day, producing the substance that JD and his brother Lycan’s enjoyed so much… the stuff JD was taking more and more of, to the dislike of his wife, Wendy.

  Sometimes Skinny worked with a respirator and sometimes he did not, giving him one hell of a contact high. Today, Skinny did not and he was already quite paranoid, when he heard a strange sound coming from outside of his lab. Nervously, he reached for his AK-47… but it’s not the law, he’s worried about… they all knew about his operation.

  “Who’s out there?” His answer came, when his front door flew open, with a cold blast of air hitting him in the face, making him jump in surprise. Dressed in all black and floating above a thin mist that was swirling under his feet, Donovan entered Skinny’s.

  He stared down the barrel of Skinny’s assault rifle, not showing the slightest hint of fear. “Go ahead and shoot, scumbag,” Donovan dared him. “It’s only going to put a bunch of holes in my new suit and that will piss me off, very greatly.”

  “Sorry,” Skinny apologized, lowering his gun. “You shouldn’t go sneaking up on me like that. I’m already jumpy enough from making this stuff.”

  “Just keeping you on your toes,” Donovan replied. “How’s the project coming along? Have you pulled your head out of your ass, yet? Give me some good news.”

  Skinny pointed to his computer screen that was projecting the translated pages of the Book of Blood. “I just finished downloading Jason’s files,” he told the mayor with an unsteady voice; he was always nervous around Donovan. “Did you get everything I needed?” Skinny went on asking. “Without the supplies, I’m at a stand still.”

  “I’m working on it, boy, just be ready,” Donovan crudely answered. “Just, don’t let me catch you sleeping on the job.”

  “Don’t worry, boss, I’m ready… I haven’t slept in years.”

  “That’s another thing… stop doing so much of that crap! You look and smell like shit! I do
n’t expect you to sparkle in the light, or look like a model, but showering every month or two wouldn’t hurt,” Donovan suggested, as he was already floating back outside, hovering ever-so slightly, on the same thin swirl of mist he came in on, letting the door slam shut behind him.

  Skinny wiped the sweat away from his forehead, letting out a long breath of relief. “Asshole.”

  Two hunters were walking through Boone County Woods, not long after nightfall; it was two local morons named Beau and Billy Bob Jones. Billy Bob was carrying a rifle in his hands, wearing a tshirt with the words, “Git ‘er done!” over the silhouette of a woman’s naked body. His brother, Beau, was next to him wearing a plaid flannel shirt carrying a rifle that was slung carelessly over one shoulder. The two were smoking a joint, as they walked through the snow, following the coyote tracks through the thick woods that were lit up only by the traces of moonlight slipping through the bare tree branches.

  “I don’t know ‘bout this,” Beau said nervously. “We ain’t o’post to be out here.”

  “Shut up, Beau,” Billy Bob sharply whispered. “You’re gonna scare ’em away with your ol’ big mouth.”

  “We can go to jail for huntin’ coyotes,” Beau whispered back. “I don’t wanna go back to jail. That food gives me the winds, sump’n terrible!”

  “Use your head, dummy,” Billy Bob snapped quietly. “Ain’t no one gonna see us, out here. Just pass me that joint and shut the hell up.”

  “I don’t know, Billy… I don’t want JD findin’ out,” Beau said. “That sum’bitch knows everything, like he’s got eyes in the back of his head.”

  “Look, Beau, we just say we was out huntin’ and that one of ‘em tried attackin’ us,” Billy Bob said, taking a drag off the joint and passing it back. “Anyways, quit your bitchin’. He ain’t findin’ out.”

  Beau thought it over, as he took the joint, taking a puff. “Aw, what the hell, you’re right. No one’ll ever hear us all the way out here. Everyone’s at the football game… ”

  “But, nuthin’! Shut the hell up!” Billy Bob snapped, pretending like he was going to smack Beau, making him flinch violently.

  “Stop it, Billy! You’re ruinin’ my buzz!”

  “Well c’mon, then and shut yer fat piehole,” Billy Bob said, turning his attention back to the trail. “I saw a whole pack of ‘em up here, just the other day… keep followin’ the tracks. Can you do that?”

  Billy Bob and Beau crossed over the crest of a hill and they saw a large pack of coyotes and crows feeding on something in the snow. The brothers crouched down, creeping quietly, to approach the animals without scaring them away.

  “What the hell they eatin’?” Beau whispered. “That smell’s makin’ me gag.”

  “Deer, maybe… it don’t matter,” Billy Bob answered. “Look at that big ol’ sunvabitch, Beau,” he said, raising his arm and taking aim. “I got ‘er… I’m gonna take the shot.”

  After carefully setting his sights on one of the coyotes, Billy Bob pulled the trigger, squeezing off a round. The bullet whizzed by, completely missing its target and the blast sent the feeding animals into a panic. The wildlife took off, scattering in every direction, kicking up enough snow to create a small storm. Beau moved in and took a closer look at the partially consumed remains laying in the snow and then turned to Beau with a horrified look on his face.

  “What the fuck? Is that a…?” was all Beau could say… because the vomit wouldn’t let him speak another word. He bent over and fell to his knees, puking in the snow.

  “Oh, fuck me,” Billy Bob said, his eyes getting wider. “I’m going for help, Beau, just stay here.”

  With that, Billy Bob was sprinting through the forest, like a bolt of lightning. Beau stood up and leaned up against a tree, looking back at the pile of ravaged meat, that the animals were chewing on. Even though it had no skin and had been torn apart by the wild animals, he could see that the bloody heap in front of him used to be a human being. Beau reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of smokes, but his hands were trembling too much to be able to get one out of the pack. After trying a few more times, he gave up, jamming the pack back into his pocket, before puking once more. Dazed, Beau began following the tracks in the snow, staggering back the way he came.

  The football field behind Wolf Creek High School was the scene of a quite vicious battle. Teen-aged boys dressed in full football gear were smashing into each other as they vied for a small piece of inflated pigskin. The bleachers were loaded with cheering fans and it appeared that the whole town was at the school enjoying the game. A crying cheerleader was escorted to an ambulance that was waiting for her on the sidelines, after a wild throw had sent one of the players crashing into her. But other than that, so far, it was a great game between both teams. It appeared that Wolf Creek had the game in their pocket, up by two touchdowns.

  The parking lot was packed, without a single space left as a sheriff’s truck came into view. It screeched to a halt and parked illegally, along the edge of the football field. The engine stopped and JD slipped out of his truck, heading for the stands, hoping he could catch the last part of the game. Nanook trailed his steps.

  As JD walked the sidelines, looking into the crowd, he noticed Mayor Donovan schmoozing with the fellow community leaders and potential voters. The number of voters made no difference though, because the elections were a fraud; Donovan has been Mayor for over one hundred and fifty years and probably would be for a very long time.

  After a quick frown, JD’s eyes continued filtering out the faces in the crowd, until they finally scanned over his wife, Wendy. She was busy talking with the other women sitting to the left of her and didn’t notice JD waving. To Wendy’s right, was Jason Cross; a nerdy computer hacker and a loner that no one really wanted to hang out with. JD stopped waving and turned his attention to the field, when he thought he’d heard someone yelling and screaming his name. He looked towards the sound to see a man cutting across the football field, in the middle of a play, running and frantically throwing his hands in the air.

  ‘What the fuck now?’ JD instantly thought. “Help!” Billy Bob was screaming across the fifty-yard line, as the refs blew their whistles, stopping the game. “JD!”

  The football game stopped in a jumble of confusion as Billy Bob dodged through the players and the roar of the audience suddenly became quiet. The crowd rumbled lowly with curiosity and concern, as they witnessed the spectacle that this person had brought to the game.

  “Sheriff!” Billy continued to shout. “Ya’ll gotta come, right now!”

  “Calm down, Billy Bob!” JD shouted back, trying to shut him up. “What the hell is going on? Are you jacked up again, son?” he asked, checking him out. “Your eyes are red as hell, Billy Bob… let me smell your breath…”

  “No, sir!” Billy Bob frantically replied. “But, there’s a dead… and coyotes… now Beau…”

  “Whoa, whoa… slow down, Billy,” Sheriff Davidson said, patting him on the shoulder. “You’re not making any sense. Just hold on… start at the beginning and talk slowly. And, do it in English this time… I don’t speak inbred.”

  “Beau and I… we were out at Boone County Woods.” “Have you been shooting coyotes again?” JD snapped. “I told you and that thick-necked, moron brother of yours to stop shooting those coyotes! Do you boys need me to place a boot in your asses?” By that time, Donovan and one of JD’s deputies, Nate, came to see what was going on.

  “What’s going on down here?” Donovan asked, visibly irritated. “Can’t you two see you’re interrupting the game? You stay the fuck off that field, Billy Bob,” he ordered him. “I can’t believe what I just saw out there!”

  “What’s up, JD?” Nate chimed in.

  “I found a dead body!” Billy Bob finally blurted out. “In the woods!”

  The men all fell silent, exchanging looks of concern.

  “A body?” JD slowly asked. “What are we talking about here? Tell me more.”

  “We… we f
ound a d-dead body,” Billy Bob spit out in a jumble, sounding shook up. “It’s all t-tore up… out there in the woods.” “Well, we’d better get on up there, then. Let’s go!” JD hollered. “Nate, you round up a team! Come on, Billy, you’re coming with me… you’ll have to show me what you’re talking about.” JD grabbed Billy by his arm and steered him off the field towards the parking lot. Nate followed after, jabbering frantically into his cell phone. Donovan took five other men and everyone loaded up, spinning their tires and spitting chunks of gravel in every direction, as they sped out of the lot.

  Sirens wailing, JD’s truck and Nate’s jeep flew down a few dirt roads, eventually turning into the woods with Donovan and a small posse, trailing closely behind. Billy Bob led them to the spot where Beau and he had parked earlier that night and JD hit the brakes. The first thing he noticed, was Beau leaning up against his car smoking a cigarette, with a dazed look in his eyes; he was shaking a bit and the front of his shirt was covered in drying vomit.

  “Beau,” JD said to him, putting a hand on his back.

  Nothing.

  “Beau!” he shouted this time… and still, he got nothing. “Ain’t no use, JD,” Billy Bob said. “He’s been like that, since he

  seen that body. I dunno, he’s got that P-M-S-T-D thing. You know, from Iraq?” JD gave Beau a little shake by his shoulders and said his name again. Beau finally looked up to the sheriff and he mindlessly pointed off in the direction of the discovered body.

  “Take him home, Billy,” JD finally said. “We’ll take it from here.” The men left Billy Bob to tend to his brother and they began following the tracks towards the dead body. Nanook led the way, jumping through the thick snow, barking and scaring away any animals that might’ve come back to feed.

  The group finally arrived on the gruesome scene and JD took a good, close look at the dead body that was laying in tattered heap on the ground in front of him. The person had been completely skinned and torn apart by wild animals, but there was no blood to be seen. A few of the men had to turn away from the awful sight, a couple of them gagging from the horrific smell.