Fatal Moon

by L. E. Perry

  Diana was silent.

  Jordan mulled it over. He rubbed his chin as he considered how to handle her concerns. "So, why haven't you talked to Carl about it?" Jordan stirred the ice cubes in his glass with his straw. Clearly, Diana thought there was something evil about Carl. He’d have to handle this situation with a great deal of care. More than anything, though, he realized he’d need to either be in Carl’s presence or Diana’s until they could get rid of her. To lose track of both at the same time could allow Diana to act on her beliefs, whatever they were, but what he’d heard from her just now alarmed him.

  "That could be even more trouble. But I know he's trying to get rid of me, and if he does, I can’t help him."

  "What do you mean?" He asked, focusing all his senses on the sound of her voice and the features of her face, while rolling a breadstick automatically on a napkin to soak up the extra oil.

  "I have some knowledge… some skills, that I’m not ready to discuss." Diana was still looking him right in the eye. There was something about this that smacked of an interview. He wasn’t sure it was Carl she was concerned about; that could just be a pretense she was using to explore his beliefs.

  "You're giving me a bunch of words without saying anything at all," he said, breaking off a small piece of breadstick and lifting it to his mouth.

  She picked up one for herself from the bread basket and dipped it in sauce. "I don’t think he knows what he’s gotten himself into. He’s obviously looking for information. I have answers to a lot of questions; his or yours. If I know what you’re looking for, maybe I can help you. You and I are both on the same side."

  Jordan finishing chewing and broke off another small piece. "You don’t know either of us well enough to know whose side you’re on. And you’re asking me to lay our hand on the table first." He dipped the bread in the sauce. Bullshit, he thought. You’re here to kill him. He’d put a bullet into her right here, right now, if he thought he could get away with it. It was a pre-emptive defense of Carl. No one would ever die, or be paralyzed, on his watch again. Ever.

  "Just to be clear, I brought books about wolves, and I didn’t expect to find any,” she let that sink in. “I’m here to help."

  "And Carl's in trouble. And apparently, this is related to wolves somehow." Jordan was breaking his bread into numerous small pieces, trying to control his hands so they didn’t shake. He knew now that if there were anything evil here, it was her, and he was sure the type of help she offered was terminal. The last thing he wanted to do was take her back near Carl, but leaving her behind, unwatched, wasn’t an option. He didn’t know what to do with her. For now, he’d just have to keep an eye on her, and stay between her and Carl until they came up with a better plan.

  "If you believe nothing else, you need to know, he’s in trouble." She watched his eyes carefully.

  Jordan considered that for a moment, chewing another piece of bread before speaking. "From who?"

  "I’m… I can’t tell you yet."

  "Say it, dammit!" Jordan nearly shouted, and Diana jumped, but said nothing. After sitting in the silence for too long, he took care of the bill and they left.

  Chapter 17 – Answers In Blood

  When they returned from shopping, Diana went upstairs with her small bag of new clothes while Jordan left his in the kitchen and went down to find Carl in the weight room. Carl jumped up. "Jordan! Thank God, you're back. I've spent the whole day studying and eating. Come into the lab with me, I need to ask you some questions.”

  They strode into the clean, white room and Jordan looked at the main computer screen. “I want you to look at these two images and tell me what you see," Carl perched on the stool, bracing himself with his hand on the seat between his sprawled legs. He tapped several keys with one hand and two squares appeared on the screen, each framing a motley collection of alien images that reminded Jordan of what people called modern art. As Jordan peered at the screen, he recognized the appearance of red blood cells, as well as at least two other types of cells and some random things that might or might not be cells. He realized he was probably looking at a comparison of Carl's blood from a week ago and the other from a few hours ago. A quick look at the image labels showing at the top of each frame confirmed it.

  "I had some of my blood from last week, and some from today. This is the fresh stuff," Carl said, watching Jordan's face.

  "You mean this, on the right?" Jordan asked, peering at the image.

  "Yes. The other is a week old." Carl kept watching him, apparently expecting a reaction.

  Jordan glanced back and forth between the two. After a long moment, he sighed and shook his head. "It's Greek to me, Carl. They look the same."

  "No, look closer at these yellow cells. See how this one in the new blood window matches this other in the same window – look here at the nucleus, see how it's approximately centered in the cell, and the edge of the cell is distinct? Look over here at the one from last week," Carl pointed to the other image. "The edges are often ragged, and the nucleus is frequently right up against the cell wall, if not missing entirely. Then all this stuff in the serum, I believe that's the nuclei and other internal parts of these cells."

  Jordan looked at what Carl was pointing to. "You said the second one is old?"

  "Yes." Carl had one arm folded and a thumb against his lips as he stared back and forth at the images.

  Jordan’s eyes narrowed as he looked carefully at the screen. "Looks like a mess, now that you mention it."

  Carl dropped his arms and began pacing as he answered, thumbs in his belt loops. "Yes. That seems to be the problem."

  "But that would mean something that happened since then has changed your blood?” Jordan looked at him, puzzled. “They both have the same cells, but the ones from today are in good shape."

  "But why?" Carl asked, exploding with frustration. "And what is it that makes me a werewolf? The cells themselves, or the fact that they're broken and leaking some… I don’t know… wolf's DNA into my bloodstream? How does that make sense?"

  Jordan sat down on the stool Carl had vacated and watched him pace. "Well, what about that DNA test? Where did the wolf DNA come from, the yellow cells? Would the test have detected wolf DNA if the cells weren't broken?"

  "I wish I knew, dammit!" Carl paced back and forth, hands now in his back pockets. "And if I ask my father, I'll have to tell him why I care."

  "Why don't you tell him? It's not like you accidentally broke someone's window with a baseball! You're… " Jordan's voice trailed off.

  Carl stopped pacing and leaned against the counter. "Dying. I know. But of what? What would I say? ‘Hello Father, I'm a werewolf, and I'm dying. Can you tell me what you know about this?' My father's only lapse in scientific belief is his religious beliefs. He'd have me exorcised until the demon left me or I died. Better dead than possessed, you know." Carl shook his head.

  "Oh." Jordan continued watching Carl as Carl began to pace again. Carl almost never talked about his family, that he could recall, and when he did it was often in anxiety or grief. It had to have been hard being raised almost entirely by servants as his parents were elsewhere nearly his entire life. He remembered Carl looking at the bleachers at football games, scanning as if looking for someone that wasn’t there. Then he remembered Diana. “Oh hell, that might fit in with my latest theory on why Diana is really here. She was talking about God, the devil, good and evil, and it sounds like she’s a spy of some sort, and thinks you’re in the devil’s camp. I don’t want you alone with her from here on out.”

  Jordan decided to keep his comments about Carl's family relations to himself, but it reinforced his view that the perfect family was a myth. He waited while Carl slowed to a near stop, then resumed pacing back and forth across the room.

  “Jordan," Carl said finally, stopping in front of him, staring downward at nothing.

  "Yes?" Jordan watched him, waiting for a reaction to what he’d said about Diana, but as usual Carl’s
mind was on the problems he could find answers for and left the rest of it to Jordan.

  Carl looked up. "I need your blood."

  "Why?" Jordan exploded off the stool.

  Carl took a step back, then answered. "I want to—"

  "Want? To hell with your want!" Jordan’s chest was almost pressed against Carl’s belly, his head thrust forward so that his nose was almost against Carl’s chin.

  "Shut up and listen to me for once! I need to infuse your blood with mine to see what those cells will do—" Carl glared fiercely back, not giving an inch.

  Jordan stood stock still, eyes barely visible behind his black lashes. He closed his eyes for a moment, then stepped back and looked down, cursing, "Shit! You said you wouldn't need any more!"

  "The hell I did! I said I didn't need any for the standard tests. This isn't a standard test."

  "Fucking vampire," Jordan clutched his arms in his white-knuckled hands.

  Carl drew himself up. "Let's hope not," He answered stiffly, and Jordan's blood ran cold all the way to his toes.

  "Is this something I can do myself?" Jordan asked.

  "Not really, why?"

  "It's just… your… " Jordan looked at the tracks on Carl’s arms.

  "You mean you're afraid I'll slip up and infect you." Carl stared into Jordan's eyes.

  "Yeah, well, you know… " Jordan answered lamely.

  "This must be what it feels like to have AIDs," Carl said, almost to himself.

  Jordan winced. "I didn't mean—"

  "Yes, you did, and I don't blame you, but I'm dying, Jordan. You said it yourself. This isn't some baseball-through-the-window variety of problem, and you're all I've got. Are you with me or not?"

  Jordan stood for a moment longer, but he couldn’t deny the logic. He sat down with reluctance and rolled his arm over so that the inside of his elbow was exposed, turning his head aside and squeezing his eyes tightly shut. “Don't slip."

  While Carl slid a drawer open, Jordan faced the wall, eyes closed and trying to picture himself on a warm tropical beach... Carl found his vein, wrapped a piece of rubber tubing above his elbow, then reached for a needle and a small vial. Carl noticed Jordan's tense expression, then slid the needle in the projecting vein and filled a vial with Jordan's blood.

  Chapter 18 – Hunting The Wolf

  Jordan went to the living room to listen to music and write in his journal. A few hours later, he ventured into the kitchen and found Carl by the back door, putting his coat on. Diana had gone upstairs earlier, and it bothered him that he hadn’t been between the two. He grabbed Carl’s arm and pulled him around to look him in the eye. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

  "What's it to you?" Carl said twisting out of Jordan's grasp.

  "I know that look. You're about to do something stupid, or desperate, most likely both."

  Carl straightened the cuffs of his coat sleeves. "I need another sample."

  Jordan fought the urge to clutch his arms.

  "Not you," Carl stated, noting the response, "the wolf."

  "Are you insane? You're going to go out there and try to find a wild creature in miles of mountainous terrain, get close enough to stick a needle in it, and then you think you're just going to walk away?" Jordan grabbed both of Carl's arms and held them firmly this time. "Remember what happened last time you cornered a wolf?"

  Carl tried to squeeze out of Jordan's grip again. "This is a different wolf."

  "You don’t know that!” Jordan gave him a light shake. "Use your brain. The only way you're getting a sample off that wolf is if you kill it first."

  Carl flinched, then looked Jordan straight in the eyes and spoke quietly. "I need that sample. There’s something about that wolf, or she wouldn’t be hanging around me when I wake up. If there’s even a snowball in hell’s chance she’s my connection to other werewolves, I’ve got to know. We’ve been assuming what happens to me is representative of normal lycanthropy, but we don’t know that. I’m working in a vacuum and I haven’t got enough data points."

  Jordan stared at him a moment, then released his grip and turned around to get his double coat, putting it on before grabbing the gun that was tucked into the corner of the shelf above. "Well, hell. What is there to lose but life itself?" he said, slipping the gun inside the belt around his waist.

  "Where's Diana?" Carl asked as he wrapped an orange scarf around his neck and handed an orange stocking cap to Jordan. During hunting season, wearing orange in the mountains was just common sense.

  Jordan’s lip curled, but he pulled the cap securely onto his head. "In her room with one of your books."

  Carl turned around and grabbed the door handle with the towel that hung from a metal loop on the wall. "If I find those strange yellow cells in the wolf’s blood we’ll have to find a way to track it to its den. I have no idea how to do that."

  Jordan stepped through the doorway after Carl and closed the door quietly behind them. “One step at a time. We don’t know what you’ll find. If you pull this stunt off, my guess is it’ll be normal blood and we won’t have to worry about it.”

  They went down to the stream where they'd found smaller wolf tracks on the hike home two days ago. Carl was acting a great deal braver than he felt but he was running out of time to find a cure, and this was one test he hadn't run. Jordan found the log he had placed at the ford, they crossed the stream and hiked up a small hill to a tiny clearing. They waited for an hour or so, while the waning moon disappeared then re-emerged from behind clouds. Carl hoped the wolf hadn't come by while it was too dark to see – even now it would be difficult. He folded his hands in his armpits to keep them warm and tried to shift his weight. They both sat crouched on their heels so they could rise to their feet without making noise, but his legs kept trying to fall asleep.

  Jordan looked back at the house and thought he saw a shadow moving near the front door, but by the time he pointed it out to Carl, it was gone. They continued to wait. Carl was getting discouraged. He knew wolves didn't necessarily return to the same place every night, but he hoped that this one sought him out more often than he already knew of. A thought dawned on him, and he gestured at Jordan. Jordan nodded and covered his ears. Carl leaned back against a tree trunk, cupped his hands and threw out a long wolf's howl. He had developed a knack for it since the first transformation.

  They waited for another twenty minutes, or maybe it was an hour, before seeing a gray shape by the edge of the stream. As it stepped out from the cover of bushes, they could see the wolf clearly. Jordan pulled out the gun and motioned to Carl to stay to the left. They crept forward, Carl in the lead and Jordan silent behind him. Once Carl got close, he growled and the female lowered her tail and crouched, sniffing the air. He jumped on her and wrestled her to the ground, taking her ruff in his hands. It shouldn't have been easy, which supported the theory he was developing. He hoped she wasn't simply ill. She yelped when he cut her, and tried to jump up, but he was straddled across her belly-up form, and she was trying to prostrate and protect her neck at the same time, confused. He hoped her wriggling didn't hopelessly contaminate the sample. Unable to get the needle in, he swiped a slide across the cut as a last resort, knowing it would be dirty, then released her before she bit him. She lay there for a moment before jumping up and bounding away. He watched her go, sadly. If he was wrong, he may have ruined his relationship with her. Wolves did not hurt other wolves in their own pack without good reason, and this violent interaction had to seem totally random to her. He had just given her a clear signal that she was not accepted in his pack.

  Carl and Jordan walked back toward the house without looking back.

  * * *

  Jordan slipped in the back door quietly with Carl, and Carl put the slide into the microscope. His eyes swept up to Jordan, who was watching him. "They're identical."

  "Yours and the wolf's?"

  "Yes."

  Jordan went cold all over. "But how can that be?"


  "She's not a wolf, she’s a werewolf." Carl looked back into the microscope.

  "Can't be!" Jordan remembered aiming the gun at the wolf. "She’d be human…"

  Carl shook his head. "All I can tell you is that the same bizarre cells in my new blood are present in the wolf's as well, and healthy looking. I've seen a lot of blood samples at the University, studied blood, and I've never seen or even heard of anything like this."

  Jordan stepped closer. "What is it?"

  Carl looked back into the eyepiece. "I have no idea, but it's quite obviously three dimensional." He ran a finger along a small dial to adjust the focus.

  "But the wolf's blood is like that sample I saw of your new blood earlier? What do you think it is?" Jordan asked, watching him intently.

  Carl leaned back for a moment. "I really don't know. Perhaps the question is: what do I think she is? Maybe I’m on the wrong track, and this isn’t lycanthropy at all, but something else, and it’s just gone horribly wrong in me for some reason that was corrected when I went to the hospital. At least – let me check again." He looked through the microscope and started muttering, “No, I don't think so. I think – wait. Hmmm… " Carl got up and turned around. "Look through the microscope, Jordan. Tell me what you see."

  Jordan felt his skin crawl as he considered the implications of his own blood improving Carl’s health. He set his revulsion aside for now, though, and sat down at the microscope. It was nothing like what they had used in high school. This type he had only seen in pictures until now. "I don't know,” he answered, looking at Carl. “Where did you get this microscope?"

  "From the hospital. It's on extended loan, I've been using it for a while now. Check her slide." Carl made an adjustment, and Jordan looked again.

  "Umm… " He leaned back and Carl switched it back again. He looked at it and looked up again. "I don't know, Carl. I'm not trained—"