Riley's Redemption (A Moon's Glow Novel)

by Christina Smith

  Nate smirked at Joe. “We still have some doses of the cure, if you want to become a Daddy.”

  Joe gazed at my daughter; his face softening with an expression we had seen on all of our visitors faces once they set eyes on our precious baby. He stared at her for several seconds before his lopsided grin appeared. “Maybe someday,” he answered Lauren wistfully.

  She smiled at him and then me. Since they were back in our lives, everything was how it should be. And now with the baby, my life was complete.

  ###

  Sebastian’s Story

  1945

  I was used to getting up early for patrols, but this was ridiculous. I was on leave; I should be taking advantage of the quiet and sleeping as long as I could. For the first time in months I was able to sleep without the threat of a raid or worry that if I fell asleep I might not wake up. “Why are we up this early again?” I asked Isaiah, the man I considered a father since the age of five, when my own parents abandoned me. I was now nineteen and on leave for a month. Since the war ended, I was allowed time away. My best friend Aiden and I were home to recuperate before going back to training. But my idea of recuperating wasn’t exactly the same as Isaiah’s. If it was up to me, we wouldn’t be up at the crack of dawn climbing a mountain. The last time I was even near a mountain, I was getting shot at.

  Isaiah poured hot coffee into a mug and handed it to me. The intoxicating aroma wafted throughout the room and I barely noticed Aiden as he wandered into the kitchen and fell into an empty chair at the table. “Because it’s a long drive,” was the only response from Isaiah. He was a tall man with dark brown hair that always needed a trim and hazel eyes that looked wise beyond his years. He almost never shaved, leaving his face unkempt and streaked with gray. He was also a man of little words and although his outer appearance would be considered gruff, he had a heart of gold. He was a medical researcher who was on a mission to find a cure for cancer, the disease that had taken his wife, at the young age of thirty five. They had only found each other a few years before and a year after she gave birth to Aiden, she passed away. Isaiah was heartbroken, but knew he had to be there for his only child.

  “Did you forget what Dad was like Bastian? It hasn’t been that long since we’ve been home.” I hated when he shortened my name, which was why he did it. He had been calling me that since we met, seventeen years ago. I was so used to it though, it no longer bothered me.

  Aiden and I had been drafted into the army when we turned eighteen, which happened to be a few weeks apart. Not exactly the birthday present I wanted, but it wasn’t a surprise either since it was mandatory for all young men to enlist once they became an adult. After only a few months of training we were shoved into the thick of battle. Yes, it had only been a year since we’d been home, but with everything we had seen and done, it felt more like a lifetime.

  “Drink up boys, I want to get going,” Isaiah grumbled, as he packed food into a satchel.

  I chuckled as I took a drink, the hot liquid flowing down my throat, waking me up. When I finished my drink I yanked on my coat and stood up. If I was going to spend the day hiking a Godforsaken mountain, it was about time to get it over with.

  We began our journey up, a few hours later. The drive along the dirt roads had been quiet. I dozed on and off, the drone of the engine and the silence surrounding me made it hard to keep my eyes open. Aiden read a book, while Isaiah concentrated on the road ahead.

  Once we parked Isaiah’s new Ford, we started up the trail. “Why are we doing this again, Dad?” Aiden asked after a few minutes of dodging branches and tripping over roots and bushes.

  Isaiah remained silent as we followed him up the rough terrain. The sky was clear and now that the sun was up, the air was warm with just a hint of a breeze. After several moments of silence, Isaiah finally spoke. “I’m looking for an herb.”

  My brow furrowed as I tried to grasp my adoptive father’s words. “An herb,” I repeated dryly.

  Isaiah stepped over a tree trunk, his arms clasped on the straps of the satchel he had slung over his shoulder. “I’m researching this particular herb and found out that it only grows on higher ground, this mountain in particular.”

  “And what is so special about this herb?” Aiden asked, as a bird screeched in the distance.

  “I think it will be the answer I’ve been looking for. I think it will cure the strand of cancer your mother died from.” His voice was low and filled with emotion. It was very unlike the gruff man he had become after the death of his wife.

  Aiden dropped his questions, as a silence fell over our group, the two men at my side still grieved over the woman they lost. Even though I had never met Aiden’s mother, I respected their need for their private thoughts.

  It was Isaiah that eventually filled the silence. “I’ve been corresponding with a colleague of mine in France and he said that he was sure that this herb had the qualities that are needed in our research.”

  There were no other complaints from the either of us. What Isaiah was doing was important and if hiking up a mountain in the early hours of the morning would help, then we would do our part.

  By midafternoon, we finally reached the top of the mountain. I was tired, hungry and a little grumpy. Aiden and I fell onto the ground, not caring that the grass covered terrain beneath us was hard.

  Isaiah pulled out a canteen filled with water and passed it around. “We should make camp here. It took a lot longer than I thought it would to get up here.”

  “Did you bring enough food?” Aiden asked with his eyes closed, his coat was balled up underneath his head.

  “Yes. I wanted to be prepared just in case.”

  Following suit, I yanked off my own coat and shoved it under my head and like my friend, I closed my eyes. “Good, because after a quick nap, I’ll be starving.”

  I heard Isaiah’s tired sigh as I drifted off.

  It was a growl that finally woke me. My eyes blinked open and for a moment I forgot where I was. Isaiah was sitting up, staring into the trees behind us and Aiden was still sleeping next to me. “Was that a growl?” I asked hesitantly, my eyes adjusting to the dull gray sky. The sun had set behind the mountain and in its place, dusk had settled over the forest.

  Isaiah got to his feet and took a few steps forward, his eyes still fixed on the trees. “Yes.” His voice was a whisper and a worry line had formed on his forehead.

  I stood up and joined the worried man. “What do you think it is?” I asked in a whisper, also feeling the need to be quiet. I didn’t know what was out there, but the hair on the back of my neck was standing up and I was sure I felt the weight of someone’s penetrating gaze on me.

  Isaiah turned to face me and opened his mouth to answer, but his words were cut off by the sound of a loud horrifying growl. A large black wolf dove out of the trees and before we could even register the movement, the wolf pounced on Aiden’s sleeping form and ripped out his throat. Isaiah’s agonizing scream echoed through the forest.

  I stared at the wolf as he ripped my best friend apart. I was frozen in place. I had seen many terrible sights in the six months I was at war, but nothing that compared to this. Isaiah rushed toward his son, screaming something that I could not comprehend, just as three other wolves emerged from the cover of the trees. One wolf stood off to the side while the other two crouched low to the ground preparing to stalk their prey.

  “Get the gun out of my pack!” Isaiah’s screams finally registered over the buzzing sound in my head. I shook out of the shock that had taken over when the wolf tore the life out of my friend and did what I was told; rushing to the satchel that Isaiah had carried. Once I held the gun I turned to see one of the new wolves biting Isaiah and taking a chunk out of his leg. I didn’t think, I just acted, squeezing the trigger. The gun exploded in my hands and thankfully it reached its target. The wolf fell to the ground.

  I spun around again, this time aiming at the first wolf that was still busy tearing my best friend apart. I shot it right in t
he heart. It also fell down. At the sound of a growl behind me, I braced for an attack, knowing that I wouldn’t have time to react before the animal pounced on me. But nothing happened. I finally turned to see the fourth wolf that had sat down at the edge of the forest, attacking the other wolf. Their savage growls and snarls emanated through the air. The noise seemed to thunder through the trees almost shaking the leaves and branches.

  I took the chance to check on Isaiah. “Are you okay?” I asked bending down, accessing his leg.

  “I’m alive.” He glanced over at his son’s remains and closed his eyes. The growls of the remaining wolves had him opening them again. “We have to go.”

  Icy claws of panic gripped my insides. “We’ll never make it,” I gasped wide- eyed as I saw movement from the two wolves I thought were dead.

  Isaiah noticed the movement as well and stood up, leaning on his good leg. “We have to try.” He stumbled forward. “Keep the gun pointed. If it took them down once, it will do it again.”

  I nodded my agreement, lifting my father’s arm over my shoulder and together we hobbled away from the still fighting wolves.

  We made it about two miles before the wolves attacked once again and just like the last time they attacked us, I shot them. The beige wolf that had helped us earlier was nowhere to be seen. Once the animals were out, we continued our journey down the mountain. “They are not normal wolves are they?” I asked Isaiah hesitantly; not exactly sure I wanted the answer.

  “I don’t think so,” he mumbled as if to himself. “I should have brought silver bullets.”

  My eyes widened as I gazed at man next to me. “You think they are werewolves?”

  “It’s the only thing that explains why they kept healing after you shot them.” He grew quiet as I helped him over a rotted out log. His brown dirt covered boot got caught in a hole, but after I yanked it out, we continued on. “And why that wolf helped you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When you turned your back to shoot the first wolf, the brown wolf jumped at you, the beige colored one attacked him.” Isaiah grunted in pain as he stumbled over a tree root. “He saved your life. I can’t imagine a wild wolf doing that if his pack was attacking.”

  I went quiet, I couldn’t think of anything to say. Were werewolves real? I just couldn’t fathom it. But I had to agree with everything Isaiah said, it was the only thing that explained all that had happened.

  The wolves must have given up on us and when we had almost reached the bottom of the mountain we stopped at the ranger station we had passed on the way up. After we explained what happened to the rangers and asked for medical assistance we settled on a hard wooden bench to wait as one of the men worked on Isaiah’s leg. The other three went to find Aiden’s remains. They returned a few hours later with a body bag. Isaiah made arrangements for the transfer of his son before he was taken to a hospital. I was silent as we made the journey; the image of the wolf ripping my best friend apart was burned in my brain.

  We didn’t stay at the hospital long. Apparently the bite was not as bad as we assumed it would be.

  When we arrived home, Isaiah slipped into his room and closed the door. I stood outside of it, not sure if I should disturb him, but I really didn’t want to be alone. There was a hole in my heart and I felt lost. With Aiden gone, what would I do now? My best friend, my partner in crime, how could I travel through life without him. I reached out to the knob, desperately in need of support from the only family I had left. But my hand froze when the sounds of deep gut-wrenching sobbing drifted through the door. The sound was filled with so much sorrow and misery it broke my heart. My chest filled with emptiness that I knew would never be filled. I felt a tear run down my cheek. It was the first time I had cried since my parents had abandoned me. Instead of tuning the knob, I sunk to the floor and leaned against the wall. I cried silently listening to the strongest man I knew fall apart.

  One month later

  Every moment since that tragic day had been horrible. When Isaiah and I weren’t mourning Aiden, there was an unspoken ominous question hovering in the air. If what we believed was true and there were such things as werewolves, than it was possible that Isaiah would soon be one. We had heard all the legends of werewolves, but never believed until a month ago that they were actually real, but after what we witnessed, we couldn’t dismiss the possibility.

  “Tonight’s the full moon,” Isaiah muttered four weeks after the attack.

  I was sitting at the table eating eggs and trying to forget. In my delusional mind, Aiden had been called back to the army and was doing training drills with all of our fellow soldiers. “I know,” I whispered so low no human would hear me. Unfortunately Isaiah did, he turned around from the oven and gave me a stern glare. I had been testing him in the past few weeks, trying to decide if all of the legends were true. And so far they had turned out to be. He was faster and all of his senses were heightened. Besides hearing, he could see farther than I could even imagine and since his bite had healed so quickly, I cut his arm and watched it heal. Both of us just gaped as his skin knitted back together.

  “I have all the chains and a padlock for the door. All you’ll have to do is lock it behind you.”

  I nodded my head staring at my food as a lump formed in my throat. I took a drink of water to wash it down. I would not cry again. The night Aiden died, I had cried myself to sleep and woke up sprawled on the wooden floor in the hallway. I rushed into my own room, not wanting Isaiah to see me. Since that day, he barely spoke. And when he did, it was grunts and one word sentences. Besides our worry for his transformation, we kept to ourselves mourning our loss privately.

  Aiden was laid to rest in our local military graveyard, even though he didn’t die in battle. I was granted an extended leave to mourn my brother, but I had no intension on returning for duty. Of course, I hadn’t informed my superiors of my plans yet, it wasn’t easy to get out of the military, and I knew they wouldn’t let me go without a good reason. I had a different mission now, one I had thought of that night on the floor as I listened to the strongest man I knew break apart. And whether or not I would follow through on it would depend on the outcome of tonight.

  I stuffed the rest of my eggs into my mouth and put my dish in the basin.

  “Are you ready?” Isaiah asked from behind me.

  I turned around to face him, a ball of dread forming in the pit of my stomach. “Yes.”

  “Let’s go.”

  For the rest of the morning we prepared for the night to come. All month Isaiah had been melting anything silver in the house and forming them into bullets. I had to handle the silver objects and load them into the melting pot because Isaiah had developed a reaction to it, another clue that our fear of his changing into a wolf was more than just a suspicion. So when he loaded the gun with the new bullets, he wore gloves, while I secured the silver chains to the bolts that we had fasted to the concrete in the basement. We were quiet while we worked, doing what he thought was necessary. And when there was nothing else we could do, he sat in front of the fire and looked at pictures of his late wife. I knew he needed privacy so I went to the library, back to the research I had started the day after Aiden was killed. I had been engrossing myself in numerous mystical books, reading up on werewolf legends and then moving on to other supernatural creatures. A few days into my research, I began corresponding with different people around the world and only now started receiving replies. I was determined to find out the truth about all I had learned and if I could, maybe even find proof of their existence.

  At six o’clock, I returned home, apprehension filled my body and gripped my heart. It was almost time to find out if our suspicions were true.

  When I arrived back at the house, it was quiet, only the ticking of Isaiah’s grandfather clock could be heard around the rooms. I found him in the living room, where I had left him. This time he was gazing at a photo of me and Aiden. It was the day we had left for the army and were dressed in our uniforms.
>
  “Would you like something to eat?” I asked in the silence of the room. When he simply shrugged, I retreated into the kitchen. I wasn’t a great cook, but I tried and knowing Isaiah’s favorites, I made him potatoes and ground meat. When it was done we ate without speaking. The house itself seemed to have taken on a depression. Since Aiden’s death the silence seemed to smother out all other sounds. I no longer heard the laughter and voices from the kids playing in the neighboring yards, or the leaves ruffling through the trees. No, it was just silence, because I knew I would never hear the only sound I longed for and that was the sound of Aiden’s voice. His loss had taken over our world. But now it was time to shift our focus to the results of his death. I just wasn’t ready to do that. I dreaded finding out for certain a fact that I already knew was true, Isaiah was a werewolf.

  After our meal, Isaiah stood up from the table and began to clean. When every surface was gleaming, he headed for the basement door and before he entered, he nodded at me. “It’s time.” It was then that I noticed his face was flushed red and he was sweating.

  I followed him down the stairs; our shoes thudded against the wooden steps echoing in the small space around us.

  When we reached the bottom, he laid down on the bare mattress we had placed down there earlier. He held his arms and legs out and I stepped towards him, placing his wrists and ankles in the manacles. My heart ached at the scene before me. The man that had taken me in when I had nobody, who raised me as he had his own son was chained up and completely vulnerable. It was too much, I had to look away. “Umm…” I cleared my throat, pushing the lump that had formed back. “Is there anything you need? Water or a blanket?” I placed the bowl full of raw meat I had brought down with me on the floor near the bed.

  “No, I’m fine, but I’d like you to go now.”

  Alarm bells went off in my mind. “No, I...“

  Isaiah’s cool hazel eyes turned to focus on me and I swear they turned yellow. “Sebastian, I know you want to help me, but I can’t let you see me this way. You need to go.”