Full Wolf Moon

by K. L. Nappier

  Mr. Satsugai would be her liaison and, effectively, police chief. Neither of them foresaw a problem with that. This wasn't exactly the Wild West and, from the looks of things, the mischief of the Inu Hunters was about as exciting as policing would get.

  Now they grew quiet. Mr. Satsugai sat across from Doris at the desk and seemed to toy with the idea of pouring another coffee for himself, but withdrew his fingers from the pot's handle. They were slender fingers. He wore no rings. Did Episcopal ministers marry, Doris wondered?

  She watched as he rose and walked to her window, where he looked out at the sun sinking behind the camp. He was taller than most of the evacuees. His eyes were large and brown, somewhat rounded, perhaps, yet still distinctly Asian. The laugh lines at their corners were generous, and occasional white streaked the blue-black of his hair. He was a nice looking man. Doris felt a sudden need to get him out of her office.

  "I've kept you too long, Mr. Satsugai," she said and stood, joining him at the window. "I appreciate your input. I think this has been a very good start."

  "I do, too," he replied.

  They watched Harriet Haku's husband and little daughter come up the hill toward the offices. From time to time they did that, to walk Harriet back to their dormitory. That child was one of the lucky ones, having both mother and father in the camp already.

  "They want some time alone together," Mr. Satsugai said.

  "Oh? Do you know the Hakus?"

  "I know the pattern. We don't have much privacy in those barracks."

  That was particularly true of the bachelor quarters, made up mostly of Issei widowers, at least until younger, unmarried men would be transferred from prison. Like Harriet's husband, Mr. Satsugai was one of the exceptions to the rule. One of the early releases.

  "You surprised me this morning," he said, changing the subject. "I wasn't expecting ... well, I wasn't expecting the Center Administrator to be so...conciliatory." He turned to her, looking at her much too long for comfort, then walked back to his chair.

  She watched as he slipped on his black suit coat and said to him, "I look forward to the meeting with the blocks' council heads. I appreciate you co-chairing it with me."

  "I'll get back to you Wednesday with a date." He began toward the door, then stopped. "I'm very glad we ran into each other, Mrs. Tebbe."

  "Me, too," Doris replied crisply, nervous with the warmth in her guest's voice. "This plan might not have happened otherwise."

  Mr. Satsugai looked at her a moment more. He seemed amused. "Good night," he said.

  She watched him from her window as the evening gloomed and he made his way toward camp. She felt suddenly and keenly alone in her barren, wooden office, as the night fell and the full moon, nearly risen, rolled toward emergence.

  Chapter 5

  Tulenar Internment Camp

  First Night. Full Moon.

  There wasn't an inch of earth the beast didn't know. It had roamed the world since the dawn of humanity, its memory rich and full, flowing through muscle and brain. Loping along the road to Tulenar after the long, burning run, it was confident in direction, comfortable with the path, eyes bright and fixed toward its goal.

  A quarter mile before reaching camp, it veered toward the hills and climbed to a weather-ravaged point that overlooked the high, new fence and lighted windows. The moon shone down from a cloudless sky, the beast's silver pelt sparking where the breeze rippled the fur. Here, it waited for the camp's lights to wink out.

  There were tales in the scents floating up to the beast. The guards at their posts evoked little interest. The wooden structure on the hill and its little village of fresh, wooden houses, leaked intriguing anxieties but the beast would ignore them tonight. The scents told the beast that the best kills were in the camp proper. It padded down the hillside and circled to Tulenar's eastern edge.

  The barbed wire snapped like sparrows' bones between its jaws, the metallic taste reminiscent of blood and teasing the beast toward its desire. The kill was warm and moving two structures ahead, an old male. By the way his scent filtered through the smell of wood, the beast knew he was still in the barracks.

  It swiveled its ears toward the prey's shelter, the smells and sounds of future kills dulling as they settled into sleep. But in a moment the distinctness of the chosen one sifted away from the others. His were lazy murmurs and shuffling, then gradually he became more active, moving to the far end of the barracks.

  The kill emerged. But with him were two young ones, a male and female, their redolence betraying apprehension well before their gestures and noises did. The prey walked a few paces from the barracks with them, his head down as he listened intently to the young ones. When their nervous chatter quieted, the old man stopped walking with them and spoke, his voice low and earnest.

  The prey's soothings and motions didn't hint of his own anxieties. But this was often true with the old, wise ones. That was what made them choice kills. The beast found it hard not to fidget. The more outwardly calm the old man appeared, the more tenderly he comforted, the keener became the beast's hunger.

  But at last -at last! - the young ones went back into the barracks, leaving the beast and its kill to one another.

  The old man settled gingerly onto the steps of the barracks, lit a cigarette and looked into the round, blanched face of the moon, his white hair glowing. The beast began to salivate. It stayed tucked in the shadows, waited, reining temptation, reining exhilaration. Wait, now. Wait.

  In time the cigarette was smoked. The old man stood, stretched, stepped away from the barracks and sauntered toward the fence, away from the beast. It tensed, eyes darting, ears swiveling, as it considered the need to stalk. But after stopping for a moment, gazing past the strained tendons of the barbed wire, the kill turned back, directly into the path of the beast.

  So very easy, this one.

  The beast stepped into the full light of the moon. The old man saw it. The beast caught him with its steady gaze, sensed and smelled the amazement, knew the man was glamoured by its awful beauty, shimmering under the moon. It curled its lips back from its teeth, the saliva glistening on the fangs, and that was when it was struck with the tangy must of awe lurching into terror. Now.

  The beast leapt with the grace and strength of millennia. The old man hadn't even time to gasp as the jaws locked around his head, and he was dragged through the fence, shards of barbed wire tearing through his shirt to the flesh.

  Chapter 6

  Lakeside Assembly Center

  Dawn. Full Moon.

  The nightmare again. The hot, rusty smell of blood, a cracking sound like the snap of dead branches. Yet he knows the cracking is of bone, popping in protest. Again the steaming remains of the old woodsman, again Annie's scream, the blood rising in her mouth. And now there is a new face, the features bunched and distorted, blood bursting through tears in the flesh...

  Awake! Awake, yes, Max was awake now. He looked around, naked and sitting against the bed's headboard, the room gray-lit by dawn. He was sweating, and it seemed the headboard and bedclothes were sweating, too.

  He moved over to the dry side of the bed and stretched out to rest a moment, then rose and grabbed his glasses. He was heading to the bathroom when the telephone started ringing in the living room. When he answered his throat was raw, his voice gravelly.

  "Hello..."

  "Lieutenant Walker, sir, I'm sorry to disturb you so early."

  "I was up."

  "There's a problem at Tulenar, sir. It looks like one of the internees has escaped."

  "What?"

  "Yes, sir..."

  "Shit. Get over here. Fill me in while I get ready."

  Max hung up and restarted his interrupted trek to the bathroom. God, the taste in his mouth was terrible.

  / / / /

  Doris Tebbe's greeting was, "Good Lord, you look rough."

  "I didn't sleep well."

  "Sorry to hear that. And I'm sorry you had to come out here for this."

  I'll ju
st bet you are, Max thought. The first internment camp to lose an evacuee. This wasn't going to look good in her portfolio. Then, again, it wouldn't look good in his either. The M.P.'s were ultimately under his command. He sat in front of Mrs. Tebbe's desk.

  "Where are the men who were on duty last night?" he asked.

  Mrs. Tebbe reached to her intercom and pressed the button. "Harriet, send in the M.P.'s now."

  The C.A. didn't look so well herself. The corners of her small eyes seemed brittle. She kept poking at the folds of auburn hair at her nape, where the dark blue snood couldn't quite contain it. She fidgeted until she noticed Max watching then, abruptly, pulled her hand away. He felt a twinge of sympathy for her. This blunder could result in an immediate replacement and the upper echelon would make sure that replacement was male.

  Six M.P.'s and their sergeant walked into the office and stood at attention. Each of them, to a man, was visibly tense, and it wasn't the crisp alertness drilled into them since boot camp, either. This had happened on their watch.

  Maxwell rose from his seat. "Let's have it."

  "Sir, my men were at their posts and patrolling as usual. The escape occurred between Hatch and Richards' round and Vester and Aldrich's."

  Max squinted at the privates' name patches, then asked Hatch and Richards, "And you saw...?"

  "Nothing, sir," Hatch replied, too quickly. "Not a thing. Everything was normal when we passed by."

  "Apparently everything wasn't normal, Private."

  "No, sir."

  He turned to Vester and Aldrich. "When you came by, you were the first to find the clipped barbed wire?"

  "Yes, sir," Aldrich said.

  "You pursued immediately?"

  "Yes, sir, as soon as we radioed the tower."

  Max turned to the sergeant. "Search party?"

  "Right off the bat, sir."

  He gave his attention to Mrs. Tebbe. "What's the internee's name?"

  "Tsuko Ataki."

  "You have his family in custody?"

  Mrs. Tebbe crossed her arms. "It's just he and his wife. They're elderly. His son is still in federal prison awaiting transfer. We have her confined to her block, yes, but I don't think Mrs. Ataki knows a thing, Captain, she's extremely distraught --"

  "Confined to her block is all I needed to hear, Mrs. Tebbe." He turned back to the sergeant. "Lead the way."

  There wasn't much to be seen at the point of escape. It remained as the M.P.'s had found it, though the ground was trampled from the initial bustle and search. Ataki was an old man, in his early seventies. He less than ten minutes between patrols to make his escape. Max looked at the endless wasteland flattened out before him, then turned west to look past the camp at the scraggly foothills that eventually gave way to high, coniferous mountains. The foothills were at least a quarter mile away. That was the most likely direction that Ataki would have fled, but how did a man in his seventies run fast enough to escape notice by the towers? No official vehicles were missing. An accomplice, then, with a car waiting?

  Damn, but where? Where could an unauthorized car wait without being noticed by the tower? Last night had been as clear as spring water, there had been a full moon. No one had reported seeing a vehicle anywhere near the perimeter. But Max would check again. What other explanation was there?

  / / / /

  Mrs. Ataki sat in Max's usual chair, he behind the C.A.'s desk, Mrs. Tebbe standing in a corner, arms crossed. Such defiance in Mrs. Ataki's eyes. The old woman looked at him as if she thought Max had murdered her husband.

  "Yes, I can think of reason, very good reason," Mrs. Ataki replied to Max's question. Her voice was brittle. "His reason would be same as mine. Same as anyone here. But he did not run, Captain. Somebody took him. I know somebody took him! He would not do this for my sake, for our son. He is not fifth column and he is not spy! Our child is citizen in United States!"

  He watched the tears well up in Mrs. Ataki's eyes, admired how she blinked them back and glowered at him. But he didn't believe her accusation. Tsuko Ataki escaped. He either couldn't deal with internment life and went berserk or he was a fifth columnist. Max thought the former was the likeliest. Mrs. Ataki probably knew that, too, but couldn't bring herself to admit it. Max didn't see much reason to keep her any longer. He ordered the M.P. to escort her back to her barracks.

  As soon as Mrs. Ataki left he stood and looked over at Mrs. Tebbe. "Thanks for accommodating me like this."

  "I didn't accommodate you, Captain, you took over."

  God. He worked his thumb and index finger under his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mrs. Tebbe --"

  "This is my camp, Captain. It's under civilian control. Who the hell do you think you are, rushing in here and barking at me like an attack dog? I'm not some simpering, little kitten that'll curl up and take that kind of crap --"

  "Mrs. Tebbe, I could not have those soldiers hear you sympathizing with the fugitive. The man has committed a crime. His wife knows he has committed a crime--"

  "A crime, my Lord, how about looking at the whole picture here, Pierce!"

  "I am, Mrs. Tebbe, you're the one with tunnel vision! I know why the old man fled, I'm not any happier with this business than you. But, the law's the law. We can't change it. You believe that, too, damn it, otherwise you wouldn't be here."

  "Don't tell me why I'm here--"

  Max held up both hands quickly to stop the warfare. Shit! He could have handled this better, he knew he could. He had always been good with damage control, he just...felt...drained today.

  "I'm sorry," he said, certain he didn't sound any more sincere than he felt. "Perhaps I should have handled your comments earlier with more tact. But, Mrs. Tebbe, you know as well as I that in circumstances of unauthorized egress, the Army has full authority. You know that."

  He watched her, using silence to force a reply. She stared back, and he knew she was weighing the consequences of her rebuttal. With one word and the right paper work, Max could have Mrs. Tebbe lifted from her seat as Center Administrator. Especially under these circumstances. Especially because of her gender. He wouldn't, of course. But he wanted her to be afraid for a moment.

  He wasn't sure if she was afraid, but she definitely was sarcastic. "Yes. Sir."

  "Come on, Mrs. Tebbe. We're on edge, you and I. This problem belongs to us both. I need you with me, not against."

  What he said seemed to have an effect. Her shoulders relaxed a little. She walked over to her seat, sat down, then motioned for him to do the same.

  Max did and said, "I know it's difficult to understand the military mind sometimes, but --"

  "Please, Captain, don't patronize me," she replied, but the tone of her voice was more weary than angry. "Damn it. Damn it! hy would Ataki run? I know this man, Captain, he's the block manager for Number Four. He has a reputation for calm, for good sense, and it's well deserved, too, I can tell you. I don't understand..."

  "It's amazing what a man will do under stress."

  "But not this man. You can't honestly think he's fifth column..."

  "No, of course not. I think the old gent just snapped. It's possible he'll even come back after he settles down."

  "Will you take him when you find him?"

  "I'll have to."

  "He's just an old man, Captain. He could stay here under confinement..."

  "No, Mrs. Tebbe. I'm sorry."

  Max expected an argument, but she only nodded. He leaned forward, elbows on knees and said, "Mrs. Tebbe, I wish there were more people in both our capacities that feel as you do."

  She had been rubbing her temples when he said that, her hand shielding her eyes. She stopped rubbing and looked at him.

  "I met somebody yesterday that doesn't share your view. You and I are two of a kind, in his opinion. We're both government. We're both oppressors."

  Her words stung. He said as objectively as he could, "I think we're two of a kind, too. But I think that way because we both don't like the situation. That's why we're here, isn
't it, to be buffers in this whole operation?"

  Mrs. Tebbe sighed and nodded.

  "Who'd you meet yesterday?" Max asked.

  "A minister, a Nisei."

  "Oh. Well, what else did you expect him to think?"

  "Good question." She pushed at the paper work on her desk. "We've still got a whole day's worth of work to go, Captain."

  Max was glad to take the hint and stood up. "Yeah. Thanks again for accommodating me."

  Mrs. Tebbe's mouth curled into a wry smile. "Oh, you bet."