The Howling h-1

by Gary Brandner

  The fact that he could not get to the pulse of his feelings disturbed him. Roy Beatty had always been in control of his life. He was not a complicated man. He did not like surprises, and he did not like conflicts. For most of his twenty-nine years Roy had managed to keep his life running as smoothly as an engineering project.

  And that was the way his life had gone — neatly plotted and well within tolerances — until that terrible afternoon when the shaky voice of his best friend on the telephone had brought him rushing home.

  Now, just as he had begun to hope that the peace and quiet of Drago might help restore the Karyn he had loved, this business of the missing dog and the howling in the night had upset her again. When, Roy wondered bitterly, would life return to normal?

  He came to the main street of Drago and turned to his right before really thinking about his destination. He had not intended to walk all the way to the village, but he had just kept walking. The logical thing to do now, he told himself, was to turn around and start back. However, a curious sense of excitement compelled him to continue down the street. When at last he came to a stop Roy had to admit this was where he had been coming all along. It was the little shop run by Marcia Lura.

  He hesitated for a moment before opening the door. A kind of unnatural stillness hung over the town. He reminded himself that he was doing nothing wrong. Why should he not come to this shop? He might just find a nice little gift inside to take home to Karyn.

  No, that would not do. The idea of the gift had just popped into his head, and he could not pretend to himself that it was the reason he had come. He was here because he wanted very much to see again the dark-haired woman.

  He walked inside to the sound of the tinkling bell. Marcia Lura was standing in the center of the shop wearing a peasant blouse and a full, flowered skirt. She was looking at him.

  "Hello," she said, "I expected you sooner."

  "You knew I would come?"

  "Of course. When you were in the other day I felt the attraction between us as strongly as you did. Are you going to tell me I'm wrong?"

  Roy caught his breath. In the dim light of the shop Marcia looked criminally beautiful. Her eyes seemed to have a light of their own. An intense pale green.

  "No," he said. "You are not wrong."

  "Are you uncomfortable with me?"

  "A little. Believe it or not, I don't usually do things like this."

  "I believe you," she said. Her smile showed strong white teeth. "And besides, you haven't really done anything yet."

  Roy forced a laugh. It did not come out as casual as he intended. "What I had in mind was some sort of gift for my… my wife."

  "Ah, yes. Do you see anything you like?" Marcia's mouth curled faintly at the corners. Her eyes challenged him. "What I mean, of course, is anything your wife would like."

  Roy looked around in confusion. His hand closed mindlessly on the nearest object, a china figurine of a little girl in the costume of a shepherdess. It was overly cute with blue saucer eyes and round cherub cheeks. Karyn would hate it.

  "How much is this?" he said.

  "Is that what you really want?"

  "Why not?"

  "It is seven dollars."

  "I'll take it."

  Marcia moved toward him, stopping just before they touched.

  "Do you want to go for a walk with me?" she said.

  "Walk?" Roy had to clear his throat against the sudden huskiness of his voice. "Walk where?"

  "Out in the back. There's a path through the woods. It's very pretty this time of year."

  "All right," he said, nodding.

  "Come this way." She held aside the curtain at the rear of the shop. Beyond it were a small living room, kitchenette, bedroom, and bath. The rugs and the furniture were in muted earth colors of brown, green, and burnt orange. There were cushions on the floor and candles everywhere. The air held a hint of sandalwood.

  Marcia led him through her small apartment and out the back door. There the forest pushed almost up to the rear wall of the building, as it did to all buildings in Drago. A broad path carpeted with pine needles led off among the trees.

  "Come." Marcia held out her hand to him. The fingers were slim and white and well shaped. Roy took the hand. The effect of the touch was like the spreading warmth from the first sip of a good martini.

  Hand in hand they walked along the path through the forest. The shadows were deepening, and the afternoon was cool. Occasionally Marcia would call his attention to an unusual flower or a bird watching them from a tree. Roy would respond to whatever she said, but his thoughts were far from his words. He was acutely aware of the waves of sensation that pulsed through his body from the point where their hands touched. The green of her eyes, he saw, was darker here in the forest. Deeper. The loose black hair framed her face like softly folded wings.

  "Strangely enough," Marcia was saying, "this path leads through the woods and comes out on the road by the old Fenno house." She turned the green eyes full upon him. "I should really say the Beatty house now, shouldn't I?"

  That has a permanent sound to it," Roy said. "We only leased the place for six months."

  "Really?"

  "That was the plan. It's always possible we might stay longer." He pulled himself away from the compelling eyes, forced his thoughts down another channel. "Speaking of the Fennos, how well did you know them?"

  "I hardly ever saw them," Marcia said. "They were quite old, and seldom left the house."

  "What happened to them, anyway?"

  "I really couldn't say." Her manner chilled markedly. "I had no interest in them."

  Suddenly Roy did not give a damn about the Fennos or their fate or anything at all except the woman before him. He gripped her hand and pulled her close, feeling the surprising strength in her arm as he did so.

  "Marcia, I don't want to talk about the Fennos."

  She looked into his eyes. She was a tall woman and could meet him almost on a level. "I know what you want, Roy. That's what I want too."

  He started to speak, but she placed two fingers on his lips to silence him.

  "Not yet," she said.

  "Why?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. He felt like a preadolescent trying for a first kiss.

  "It's not the right time."

  "When?"

  "You will know." Abruptly her mood changed and the contact was broken. "Come, let's go back."

  They walked back along the path toward the village. Marcia danced on ahead, humming a melody Roy did not know. He followed along behind, feeling his desire for her flow powerfully through his veins. Still, he knew somehow that she was right. This was not the time. And he knew sure as death that the time would come.

  They reached Marcia's shop at the edge of the forest and went in through the back door. They crossed the living quarters and went past the curtain into the front of the shop.

  "It's been awfully nice," Marcia said. "We must do it again." The playful half-smile and the spark in her eyes said the things her words did not.

  "Goodbye," said Roy. He started toward the door, his eyes still on Marcia.

  "Aren't you forgetting something?"

  "Am I?"

  "The gift for your wife."

  "Yes, I almost did forget. The little shepherdess. How much did you say it was?"

  "Seven dollars."

  Roy pulled a five and two ones from his wallet and handed the bills to her.

  "Would you like a gift box?"

  "No, thanks. I'll just take it as it is."

  Marcia slipped the china figurine into a plain paper sack and handed it to Roy. He took the package from her, turned quickly, and walked out. It was a gift, he realized, he would never deliver.

  Back out on the street he thought, This is crazy. No woman has had an effect like that on me since I was sixteen years old.

  It was the mountain air, he told himself. Plus the undeniable fact that Marcia Lura was a damned sexy woman. Even so, if sex were better for him and Karyn, it would never hav
e happened.

  But, damn it, nothing had happened. He had held a woman's hand, gone for a walk, and got an erection. Why did he feel as though he had cruelly betrayed his wife? There had not been even a mention of sex. Not aloud. Not in so many words. Nevertheless, as his house came into view, Roy had to admit that the short walk through the woods with Marcia had been an erotic experience he would not soon forget.

  Chapter Ten

  "I'm sorry, Oriole, I'm just not with it today," Karyn said.

  This was the third day in a row she had come in to the store and sat playing gin with Oriole. Roy had so immersed himself with his technical reports he was hardly stimulating company. He had urged her to amuse herself.

  "You can say that again," Oriole replied. "You want some more coffee? A piece of pie? I made some fresh pumpkin."

  Karyn looked at her wrist watch. "Gosh, no, look what time it is. I've got to get home and start dinner. Roy is having problems with his work, and I don't want to add to them by making him eat late."

  "I'd give you a ride," Oriole said, "but Etienne took the pickup over to Palmdale for supplies."

  Karyn walked to the back window and peered out into the gathering darkness. "I'll make it all right, but I'd better get moving."

  "There's a shortcut that will save you ten minutes. It comes out on the road not far from your place, if you don't mind walking through the woods."

  "No, why should I? Where is this shortcut?"

  "It's a nice wide path, easy to follow, starts right behind Marcia Lura's place. You know where that is?"

  "Yes, I know."

  "I can walk over there with you."

  "Thanks, Oriole, I'll find it."

  Karyn left the store and walked up the street to Marcia Lura's shop. As usual, the curtain was drawn over the front window, and there was no sign of life inside. A narrow passageway led back between the shop and the boarded-up building next door. Marcia's living quarters were dark too. What did the woman do in there, Karyn wondered. Probably sat with the lights out burning incense and chanting spells. Now where had that thought come from? Enough.

  The path through the woods was, as Oriole had said, wide and easy to follow. However, the overhead branches blocked out much of the sky. The night seemed to follow just a few yards behind Karyn.

  Someone called her name. Karyn stopped abruptly. A whisper more than a call, but distinct over the other rustlings of the forest. Karyn peered through the heavy brush that grew along the side of the path. At first she saw nothing, then there was a movement. A person. Man or woman, Karyn could not tell, but somebody was there, just a few yards away.

  "Who's there? Who is it?"

  No response.

  Could it be Roy playing some kind of trick on her? No, he would never do that. Oriole Jolivet come to tell her she had forgotten something? But why would Oriole slip through the brush instead of following on the path? Why would anyone?

  For an instant panic seized her, and Karyn's impulse was to run blindly for home. She fought it down. The nonsense talked by Inez Polk the other night must have unsettled her more than she realized. If she started running from shadows now, she would really be in trouble.

  It was still not quite dark. Karyn parted the brush and took one cautious step off the trail. Then another. She would go just far enough to see what had attracted her eye. It would be some oddly shaped clump of brush, or a fallen branch that would look, when quickly seen, like somebody out there. The illusion, coupled with the call of an unfamiliar bird, would make it seem someone had called out to her.

  Beneath the tang of evergreen there was another smell here. Something unpleasant and vaguely familiar. Something on the ground, partly hidden by the undergrowth, caught her eyes. Something red with a bit of metal attached. Karyn reached down and grasped the red thing. Her hand came away holding the red leather collar, still buckled. Still on the ground was the head of the dog.

  Karyn stiffened in shock. Her breath seemed suspended. A little way beyond where she stood, at the spot where she had thought she'd seen someone, there was no one now. Still, something was here. Something watching her. Something Evil.

  Karyn's breath returned in a great ragged gasp. She staggered back onto the path and began to run. She ran blindly, her feet pounding the carpet of needles that covered the trail. Branches seemed to whip out and clutch at her. Behind her, moving silently through the trees, something followed.

  When she reached the house Karyn could not make her fingers work to get the door open. She balled her hands into fists and pounded frantically on the panel. When the door opened suddenly she half fell into the room.

  Roy moved quickly to catch her. "Karyn! My God, what's the matter?"

  Words would not come right away. "L-let me get my breath." Karyn allowed herself to be led to a chair. She sat down and fought for composure, knowing that in her breathless, disheveled state she must look like a mad woman.

  Roy held her hand, rubbing it absently as he looked into her eyes. "Are you hurt?"

  She shook her head, then pulled in a deep, slow breath. "Roy, I found Lady. I mean I found all that was left of her."

  "You found her?" Roy repeated, his eyes searching her face.

  Karyn raised her free hand, the one clutching the red leather collar with the buckle still fastened. "Out in the woods, alongside the path between here and Drago. I saw something in the brush and went over to look. Roy, it was her head. Just her head." Karyn broke off as she heard her voice begin to rise, and tried to will herself to be calm.

  Roy took the collar from her and held it gingerly. "Poor Karyn, that must have been awful for you."

  Karyn chewed her lip, wanting to tell him the rest, but wanting to sound in control.

  "It looks like Anton Gadak was right," Roy said. "Some damned coyote got her. It's a rotten shame."

  Karyn shook her head from side to side. "No."

  "What do you mean?"

  "It was something else. I… I think it followed me."

  "Followed you home?"

  She nodded.

  Roy spun away from her and strode to the door. He pulled it open and stepped outside. After a minute he came back in. "There's no sign of anything out there. What was it you thought you saw?"

  "I'm not sure. Somebody… an animal… something."

  She saw his face change. The look of deep concern faded into one of doubt.

  "Why don't you go in and lie down, Karyn? I'll make you a hot toddy."

  She leaped to her feet and faced him. "I don't want to lie down. And I don't want a goddam hot toddy. Something is out there, Roy. It followed me home through the woods."

  "We'll go out and have a look in the morning," he said in a voice meant to be soothing. "Things never seem so frightening in the daylight."

  "Damn you, Roy, don't patronize me!" Unable to stop herself, Karyn flailed at Roy's chest with her fists. "I'm not a child! I'm not hysterical!" Even as the words came out Karyn realized how childish and hysterical they sounded. Her body shook uncontrollably and she began to cry.

  Roy wrapped his arms around her, and it felt good to be held.

  "I'll put you to bed," he said. "Then I'm going for a doctor."

  Karyn tried to speak, but great wracking sobs made it impossible. Roy led her into the bedroom and helped remove her clothes. He laid her gently in the big bed and tucked the blankets in around her.

  "Will you be all right?" he said. "I'll lock the door."

  "Roy, I'm not sick."

  "Hush. You stay here and rest."

  Before Karyn could protest, he hurried out of the house, started the car, and drove off toward Drago.

  * * *

  Oriole Jolivet was sitting behind the counter working a jigsaw puzzle when Roy entered the store. Etienne was washing down the meat case.

  "Well, Roy," Oriole began, "we haven't seen you in a month of Sundays. Karyn was just — "

  Roy cut her off. "I need a doctor, Oriole. Is there one in town?"

  The stout woman's face s
obered. "What's the matter? Did something happen to Karyn?"

  "She found the… the remains of our little dog in the woods. The shock hit her kind of hard."

  "I bet it did, the poor kid. I was saying she just left here not an hour ago. Bill Volkmann's probably home now. He's the only doctor we got, but he's a good one."

  "Can you tell me where to find him?"

  "I can do better than that." Oriole came around to the front of the counter, laying aside her apron. "I'll ride along and show you." She looked over at her husband, who was watching them silently. "I'll be back directly."

  Etienne Jolivet nodded gravely. Roy and Oriole hurried out to the car.

  The house Oriole directed him to was on one of the short side streets between the Jolivets' store and the road that led to Roy and Karyn's house. It was an old two-story frame building painted an uninspired brown. The lawn was well kept and the shrubbery trimmed. There were no flowers.

  "Bill Volkman has lived here alone ever since his wife died in '71," Oriole said. "A couple times a week he'll go over to Pinyon to help out in the hospital there, but mostly he's retired now."

  They climbed the steps to the front porch and Oriole twisted the key of an old-fashioned doorbell set into the heavy oak door.

  The man who opened it was tall and lean, with a narrow, aristocratic face and steel-gray hair combed back from a high forehead. He wore a suit and vest that was of good quality though at least twenty years behind current styles.

  "Bill, this is Roy Beatty," Oriole said. "The one moved into the old Fenno place. His wife is down sick and he wanted a doctor."

  "How do you do," said Dr. Volkmann in a deep, resonant voice. "I'm sorry to hear Mrs. Beatty is ill. What seems to be the trouble?"

  "I think it's her nerves mostly," Roy said. "Karyn hasn't been really well for a couple of months, and this evening she had a scare while she was walking in the woods. When she got home she was shaking and not making a lot of sense, so I put her to bed and came looking for a doctor."

  "Sounds like you did the right thing, but I'll be glad to come out and see her if you like."

  "I'd appreciate it."