FULL MOON ISLAND

by Terry Yates

  “A little,” he replied.

  “If Michael Blum says a little,” he said, taking some pills out of his pocket, “then it probably hurts a whole lot.”

  He popped the top of a bottle, poured two pills into his hand, and handed them to the boy.

  “Take two of these. You’ll feel better.”

  “Thanks.”

  Michael put one pill into his mouth, then the other, swallowing them both dry.

  “Need some water?” Kyler asked.

  “No thank you.”

  “If we end up staying here any longer, I’m going to see if Prof. O’Hearley can make up some plaster, so we can make you a cast. This place seems to have everything but syringes and plaster.”

  “I’m okay,” Michael told him.

  “Yeah, but I’ll be happier when we can get a cast on you. It’ll heal quicker once there’s a cast on it.”

  Kyler smiled and began to make his way over to Sylvia.

  “Doctor?”

  Kyler stopped and turned around.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you think someone will come and get us?” Michael asked.

  “I don’t know, Pal, but I think we’ll get out of here one way or another,” he answered.

  Kyler smiled at the boy again and walked away over to Sylvia Morrison.

  Shelly watched the doctor sit down next to the photographer lady, and put his hand on her shoulder. Why couldn’t he just leave? Why couldn’t he just leave so that she could take Kayla and join Marcus and Oliver? The longer she waited, the more nervous she became. She knew they couldn’t get out of there until Kyler had made one last check on her.

  She continued to rock the baby and hum lightly. She watched as the doctor gave the old lady a pill, which she put in her pocket. After talking to her for five more minutes, he finally stood up, and began to make his way toward her. She reached up and put her hair over her neck. She knew that the mark had mostly faded, but she didn’t want to take any chances, because if anyone would find it, it would be him.

  “Hi, Doctor,” she bade Kyler as he approached.

  “And how are mother and child this evening?” Kyler asked.

  “Doing fine, “ she answered smiling.

  She felt like the doctor was studying her, looking for something that would give her secret away.

  “I’m sorry I spooked you last night when you were trying to help me,” she told him, her smile disappearing. “I just kinda freaked out, I guess.”

  “No harm done,” he replied, smiling. He had almost forgotten about her suddenly snapping the previous evening, causing him to do a pratfall over a cot. She seemed to have forgotten that he cold cocked her but good, just two days before.

  Kyler bent down next to the bed.

  “Let’s look at baby first,” he said whispering.

  He removed his stethoscope from his pocket and, blew on it, and placed it under the little home made shirt that Shelly had rigged up for the baby. Shelly watched him place the stethoscope on Kayla’s back. He turned his head sideways, and listened. He did this again another three times, placing the stethoscope on different parts of the baby’s back. Kyler removed the stethoscope, and then gently turned the baby over, checking her arms, her legs, her hands, and her feet.

  “She looks fine to me,” he told Shelly, “but you’re gonna need a pediatrician once we get off the island.”

  Shelly wanted to tell him that no, she wouldn’t be leaving the island…well, for a while anyway. She and her family were going to live in this building for as long as they could stay hidden, which according to Marcus, was a piece of cake.

  “I’ll do that,” she answered, trying to not give anything away.

  Once again, Kyler blew on the stethoscope, and began to give Shelly the same check up, listening for anything irregular. As he moved the instrument around, he noticed that Shelly’s heartbeat was beating faster than normal…or faster than it should be beating. She was lying on a cot and for the most part, seemed relaxed. She didn’t seem in the slightest bit stressed or worried. It could possibly be that he made her nervous, but she had never had this fast of a heart rate the previous hundred other times he had done it over the last several months.

  He put his stethoscope back into his pocket, placed his hands on Shelly’s face, and then began to check her pupils, which were a nice hazel color. Everything seemed pretty normal in her eyes.

  He let go of her face, and started to look down to inspect her hands. Before he had completely looked away, he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. His eyes immediately darted back up into her eyes, which were now big and brown, with no pupils, or all pupils, he wasn’t sure. They were exactly like Opal’s had been and now Samantha’s were.

  He jumped back for a moment, startled. He looked away from her lifeless eyes.

  “What is it, Doctor?” she asked.

  Kyler quickly gathered himself, and shot back up. When he looked back into her eyes this time, they were her usual color.

  “Doctor?”

  “Huh? Oh…”

  Kyler looked away again, then back up into her eyes. Still hazel. He must’ve been seeing things. He was tired and possibly a little stressed after several hours of being ostracized.

  “Doctor? What did you see?” Shelly asked him.

  “Nothing,” he answered, looking at her one last time. “Nothing at all. You seem to be in good working order. Your heart rate’s a little fast, but I don’t think it’s anything major. I think we’re good for the night. Can I get you anything before I go? A glass of water…a book…magazine…anything?”

  Shelly started to shake her head no, but then changed her mind.

  “I suppose a glass of milk would be nice,” she answered, smiling.

  “Ooh…a glass of milk. I’m not sure that’s possible at the moment,” Kyler told her, remembering that Samantha was locked in the cooler.

  “A glass of water then,” Shelly said, handing him a large, yellow plastic glass that she’d brought back from the kitchen.

  “You got it. There’s an Ozarka cooler in the locker room.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.”

  “I’ll be back as fast as I can,” he told her, standing up. Shit, how many times was he going to have to go back to that locker room today?

  Kyler walked first over to Michael and asked him if he needed anything while he was out. Michael told him no.

  “Can I get you anything, Sylvia?” he asked.

  She kept her face in her hands, as she shook her head no.

  “If you change you mind,” he told her, “I’ll be back in a little while. Okay?”

  Sylvia, once again, nodded her head. Kyler never knew what to do in situations like this. Do you give them a stiff, but friendly, flat-palmed pat on the back, or do you hug them? He did neither. He simply turned and walked away.

  CHAPTER 71

  “Well, that was a bust,” Potts muttered as the soldiers made their way back into the building.

  They had retraced what they had believed to be the path that Kyler had taken when he had made his trip into town. They spread out, looking for any signs of footprints, both animal or man, and had come up with nothing on the way there, but on the way back, Hawkins had discovered the high grass, the pile of debris and the tree that Klefka had sat under while recovering. It had been a good hiding place although Hawkins wasn’t sure if it was the hiding place until he found a few small drops of blood under and against the tree, and one of the pills that Kyler had given him lying at the base of it. He had called for Potts and the others and had shown them the spot. They immediately set up a perimeter with both pistols and knives drawn, fanning out for at least fifty yards, but they had come up empty handed. Potts had wanted to stay and continue the search, but Sgt. Cohen had reminded him that it was almost 7:45. Darkness would come by 8:30, and they had best prepare themselves for another possible full moon, which meant another possible attack from the thing. Reluctantly, Potts relented, and the four of them headed back to th
e building.

  As Potts put the cardkey back in his pocket, he was met by Locklear, who had informed them that everything was almost ready. Potts looked positively excited as the five of them got in the elevator and headed down to the twelfth floor. When they stepped off of the elevator, Potts ordered Hawkins and Sgt. Cohen to go to the bivouac room and secure it for a long night. He didn’t want the civilians to be sitting ducks like they had been the night before. He wasn’t exactly sure what they would be able to do if they actually had to fight a werewolf, but they should at least be prepared.

  As Hawkins and Cohen ran toward the sleeping quarters, Locklear, Potts, and FranAnne headed for Locklear’s lab.

  “Where in God’s name did you find mercury?” Potts asked Locklear.

  “A colleague’s office,” Locklear answered, walking quickly, almost leaving Potts and FranAnne behind.

  “How did you get in there?” Potts asked, almost running to keep up. “I thought that most of the doors in this place needed a cardkey to get into it.”

  “They do,” Locklear answered, not slowing down, “but there’s just one thing that the people who installed this elaborate security system in this building didn’t count on when they installed it.”

  “What’s that?” Potts asked.

  “That the military with all of its manpower and its resources, and its unique ability to keep the right hand from knowing what the left hand is doing, is nothing compared to two nerds with a plan.”

  Potts laughed. “What did you do, override the keypad or something?”

  “No,” Locklear answered, stopping in front of the lab. “We took the door off.”

  Potts chuckled as they entered the room where they were met by Ariella, Sam, and Zora who were loading clips into both AK’s, Uzi’s, and side arms.

  “Who the hell taught you people how to load guns?” Potts asked, picking up an AK-47, impressed that the magazine was securely loaded into the gun.

  “Zora showed us,” Sam Answered.

  “You?” Potts asked.

  “It’s not brain surgery,” she said, not looking up, but continuing to load pistol after pistol. “My father was on the Belgian police force as were two of my older brothers.

  “Well, shit me sideways,” Potts exclaimed. “Fong, you and Fulton go to that room where we found these weapons, grab some grenades, and bring them back here,” he ordered, returning to military mode.

  Sam nodded.

  “And be careful with them,” he told them as they were about to exit.

  “Gee, you’re kidding, Colonel,” Fong replied sarcastically. “I had every intention of seeing how many of them I could juggle at once.”

  “Get out of here,” Potts barked, seeing the corners of Pvt. Fulton’s mouth turn up into a near smile.

  FranAnne gave Potts a military salute, while Sam merely wiggled his fingers at him as they exited the room.

  “Now…” he started, picking up a pistol clip. “Which bullets are the dog’s and which are the mercury?”

  “Not that it probably matters,” Locklear answered. “But I’ve placed a white X on Joe’s magazine and the number 80, which is its atomic number, on the mercury. If my theory is correct, they should both have the same effect.”

  “Where’s your little girl?” Potts asked.

  Locklear pointed as he continued to marvel at his handiwork. Potts turned around. For a moment, he didn’t see anything, but then he looked at Locklear’s desk. Under it, he saw Lauren and the dog both curled up sound asleep, one of them snoring loudly.

  “How are we going to set up to fight the werewolf if it comes back…granted, there is a full moon, and it does come back?” Ariella asked.

  “I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that the moon will be full tonight, and it will definitely be back.” Potts answered, setting the AK aside, and checking out a pistol. “If Klefka turns into a werewolf, I doubt he’s had anything to eat except for leftover Pvt. Gibson, which has probably been turned into wolf shit by now, plus, in the army, you always go by the assumption that the enemy will be there. If it doesn’t show, at least you’re prepared. Tonight though, I’m thinking of taking a more offensive strategy.”

  “Offensive?” Zora asked.

  “Yep.”

  “How?” Locklear asked.

  “No idea,” Potts answered. “How many mercury bullets are there?” he asked Locklear.

  “About three hundred, but we still have enough mercury to make maybe another six hundred,” Locklear answered, fairly impressed with himself.

  “It’ll have to do,” Potts said, deflating Locklear somewhat. “Keep making them for as long as you can. Do you have a radio or any form of communication in here?”

  “We have an intercom,” Locklear answered. “I think pretty much all of the offices have one.”

  “Where’s it hooked up to?”

  “The only place I know of is the first floor security station,” Locklear answered him, “although I’m sure there are other places…other higher up offices, where people can talk to us. For all I know, there are cameras in here, but I’ve only gotten calls from the security desk, usually telling me that someone is in the lobby looking for me.

  “Great,” Potts muttered. “We have no means of communication if that thing starts to get by us, or makes it into the building.”

  “What happened to the radios?” Zora asked.

  “In case you don’t remember, we had to leave them behind night before last when Klefka turned into the werewolf. The second storm took over from there. I wish that we had more time to canvas this building thoroughly. I’m sure there are hundreds of them on some of these floors somewhere.”

  With this, Potts took two Ak-47s and an Uzi, and set them aside. He then took two pistols, rechecked their clips, and shoved them into his belt. Afterwards, he took a half dozen extra clips and put them into his pocket.

  “Haven’t you forgotten something, Colonel?” Zora asked.

  “What?”

  “What about your own pistol? Aren’t you going to replace your own clip with the new and improved ones?”

  “Nope,” he answered matter of fact.

  “Why not?”

  “Because if none of these new bullets work, then all is lost. I’ll save my pistol for the end.”

  “Meaning?” Ariella asked.

  “He’s saving the last bullet for himself,” Zora answered for him.

  CHAPTER 72-THE LAST FULL MOON

  Kyler walked into the locker room, as usual the lights coming on behind him. It was still hot and steamy from Gringo’s shower. He must’ve just left, because the humidity was atrocious. He saw towels strewn about haphazardly along with dirty socks and underwear. He didn’t want to see what the shower looked like. The drains were probably clogged so badly with hair that it would take an army of plumbers and fifty cans of Liquid Drano to remove it. Good ol’ Gringo. You had to love him. He wore his entire person on his sleeve, while at the same time, always calculating his next move.

  Kyler stepped over Gringo’s dirty clothes and made his way over to the Ozarka cooler. He was a tad nervous. It was working on 8:00 now, and very soon, it was going to be dark. He didn’t want to be anywhere near this place after nightfall. He wasn’t sure why, because one place inside the building was just as good as another. Bad. Nicholas Klefka was obviously still alive or they would’ve heard about it by now.

  He took the large plastic glass that Shelly had given him to fill, and put it under the cooler’s nozzle. He watched as the bubbles glugged to the top of the water jug. He filled the glass to the top and sat down for a moment. He could feel a headache coming on the size of the Rock of Gibraltar. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pill bottle. He looked at the label. Morphine.

  “Nope. Not for a headache,” he said aloud, although after his one sided altercation with Potts, morphine didn’t sound so bad.

  He reached again into his pocket, this time pulling out a bottle of Tylenol Extra Strength. He lined the arrows up and popp
ed the top off. He’d put too much strength behind his top popping, causing a dozen or more aspirin to spill out of the bottle and onto the floor. He had taken the cotton out of the top to save time in doling them out, but as they flew through the air and bounced across the floor, he had begun to regret that decision. He reached down from the bench to pick them up, spilling some of the water onto the floor as he did so. He watched as several of the tablets dissolved after being splashed.

  He set the water glass down on the bench and reached down to pick up the surviving tablets. As he did, he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He looked up at the locker room doorway. He thought that he had seen something…a shadow perhaps, move quickly across it, causing the light shining in from the hallway to be blotted out for a moment.

  He stood up slowly, staring at the open door. He looked up at the round clock, which hung on the wall above the sinks. 8:11. It would be going from dusk to dark any moment now, so Nicholas Klefka hadn’t had time to turn yet. He expelled a large sigh of relief. He walked, quicker now that he knew that it wasn’t a werewolf. He stopped when he got to the doorway, and then slowly peeked his head outside, looking left first, then right. There was nothing or no one in the hallway. He moved back inside the locker room and went to pick up the tablets and refill the water.

  “Untie me, Baby,” Samantha squealed, rocking back and forth in her chair, the loose links of chain hitting the legs of the chair.

  “No can do, Sweetie,” Gringo answered.

  He was half sitting, half leaning against a small table directly across from Samantha.

  “They’re trying to hurt me, Baby!” she whimpered as she stopped rocking.

  “No, they aren’t. They’re just making sure that you don’t turn into one of those werewolves tonight,” he told her matter of fact, speaking as if he were telling her that the road that they wanted to turn on was on the left not the right.

  “Please….” She squealed again. “Help me…”

  “Now, we’ve been over this, Samantha. You’ve got to stay in here so you don’t go hurtin’ anybody if you turn into one of those things.”