Hounded By The Gods

by ST Branton

  “Right.” I pretended to be worried, even though I knew for certain it wasn’t a coyote, and I was pretty sure it didn’t have rabies, unless it was some sort of freakish monster strain. “Best way to find out if the critter had rabies or anything is to catch it, right?”

  The vet laughed. “Sure. I mean, first thing we’d ask someone in the burbs is if they caught the raccoon, but out here in the woods, there’s no way you’re finding the wolf—or whatever it was—that did this to you.”

  I looked down at my wounds and back up at her with the sincerest look of concern I could muster. “Anybody that might be able to help me track it down?”

  “You’ll have to go into town for that. Try the diner maybe. It’s open all the time. You can’t miss it. It’s the only one we’ve got.” As I stood up slowly, testing my range of motion, she held out her hand. “I’m Maya. It was actually pretty nice to meet you, given the circumstances.”

  We shook hands. “Vic,” I said. “Thanks for all your help. What do I owe you?”

  “A favor.” Maya grinned impishly. “Stop messing with the wildlife, and I’ll consider us square.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The morning was well underway by the time I stepped back out onto Main Street. A cold breeze lifted my hair off my neck and I shivered, rubbing my bare arms.

  “I wish this thing still had sleeves,” I muttered. “Looks like I’m gonna need some new clothes.”

  The breeze persisted. I bent forward against it and trudged in the direction Maya had indicated—slowly, because the bandaged wounds still ached.

  In the outdoor silence, my thoughts started up full bore again, spinning faster and faster as I attempted to make sense of the night I’d just had. “Marcus, be honest with me. Do you know anything about what’s really happening here? I mean, Teen Wolf was a Forgotten, right?”

  It must have been, but you must understand, Victoria. “Forgotten” is a vast pool of gods, apprenti, and their minions. There are many facets of which I have little or no knowledge. And, parenthetically, I do have no reason to believe this Forgotten was a teenager.

  “Yeah. Teen Wolf. Eighties movie. Forget it. You wouldn’t understand.” I smiled to myself, realizing that what Marcus did know about made him useful. But my joke finally made the image of the beast click into a niche in my brain. The thing I killed was hairy as hell, mouth stuffed with fangs, big creepy paws.

  It was a damn werewolf.

  There was no mistaking it. At least I had a name to use at least, but that didn’t guarantee me an edge.

  “How can you know about vampires but not about werewolves?”

  What is a werewolf?

  A big sigh emptied my lungs. “We’ve got some movies to watch when we get back to New York. In the meantime, you’ll just have to make do with my Sparknotes. Supernatural Human Lore 101. A werewolf is literally just a person who turns into a wolf under the influence of the full moon. But the appearance and… wolfiness… of the wolf form can vary. Like, they might seem to be a real wolf, only bigger. Or they might look like the thing we saw before. Humanoid. Two legs. Way less majestic than you’d expect. Or, like in the movie, they might score with the ladies and on the basketball court.”

  I see. Is the werewolf a popular figure in human legend?

  “Oh, hell yes. I’m shocked that you don’t know what I’m talking about. There have been millions of books and movies about them. The visual concept keeps changing with time.” I laughed. “My favorite is always going to be the old B-movie versions, where it’s clearly just some guy with fur and spirit gum all over his face.”

  It is possible that stories from the old days remained around long enough to seep into your works of fiction. Normally I wouldn’t place much stock in these stories, but I have to admit that some of it checks out. What causes a werewolf to occur in nature?

  “I don’t know. Usually it’s a curse, I guess. Some type of magic or something.”

  Hmm. He grunted disapprovingly. The wilder Forgotten are the least trustworthy because they are the least predictable. We must watch our backs at all times.

  That, I could agree with. “Maybe the other one is still around here, or maybe it screwed off after I killed its friend.” I stubbornly ignored the possibility that the Were who was still missing might be another member of the girl’s family. “I think we should stick around this place for a while. See if anything else happens. We’re not going to find the information we need by cutting out early.”

  Call me pessimistic, but I have doubts that these creatures will be open to answering questions.

  “They might be, but I bet I can get some of the townspeople to run their mouths. That’s your strategy, right? Poke around, look for anything strange. There’s no way they don’t all know something is jacked up here.” Right on cue, the little diner came into view at the top of a slight rise. It was pleasantly retro, and I saw that Maya had told the truth about its hours of business. “Besides, I’m starving. It’ll be worth it just to get some grub in me.”

  The bell above the door jingled on my way across the threshold, and I could practically hear everyone inside the diner turn and look at me. Despite the cheery music drifting out of a jukebox in the corner, the atmosphere was decidedly icy. At least a dozen pairs of eyes tracked my progress from the entrance to a booth in the corner. No one said a word.

  Tough crowd.

  After everyone else had more or less returned to minding their own business, a cute waitress who must have been in her sixties, but had the swagger of a twenty-something, made her way out from behind the counter, menu in hand. She set it down in front of me. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” she said, the corners of her lips quirking upward. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out in the middle of Bunghole, Nowhere?”

  “Not much,” I lied. “I was just passing through, but, uh, I’m having some car trouble.” As in, I’d left my car in the next town over, the one that was completely abandoned. “I figured I’d stop in and at least get some breakfast.”

  The waitress’s eyes sparkled. “A girl after my own heart.” She leaned down, after glancing over her shoulder at the room. “Sorry about the cold welcome wagon. We’re not too used to visitors out this way.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I scanned the menu, my stomach rumbling impatiently. “Let me get eggs, scrambled, pancakes, and half a pig worth of bacon.”

  The waitress laughed, slapping her faded jeans with her free hand. “I can see someone’s hungry. A woman after my own heart.”

  “Hungry and tired. So, I’ll drink the coffee as fast as you can bring it.”

  “All right. But don’t test me. I’m fast as hell.” She winked and strode away, disappearing behind the double kitchen doors.

  I leaned back and let my eyes drop closed for a moment. The ambient noise of the diner mixed with its rich, comfortingly greasy smells, and for a second, I let myself pretend that I was somewhere normal. I’d open my eyes, get my food, eat it, pay, and leave. Simple.

  Instead, I opened my eyes to see some grade-A douchebag sliding into the seat across from me. He grinned out from under the brim of a beat-up baseball hat, his chin and jaw flecked with shaving nicks and missed stubble. He barely fit behind the table. I’d guess he was in his late-twenties, early thirties, but the deep wrinkles around his eyes said maybe he was older.

  “Sorry. I don’t think I ordered asshole off the menu,” I said, nodding toward my waitress. “Might want to try the next table over.”

  My new friend ignored me. “I’ve never seen you around here before, cutie pie.” He gestured to the small entourage that was gathering around the booth. I looked them over; they were all cut from the same dirty cloth as him. The stench of wood and tobacco permeated my nose.

  I forced a fake smile. “Well, I bet most cutie pies stay away from dipshits like you and your buddies.”

  Victoria, Marcus’s voice rang in my head. It was all I could do to keep from cringing. While I’d normally be happy wi
th your dressing down of this crude man in public, it might be better to ignore him for the sake of our mission.

  Marcus was right, and I knew it. Just as I was about to kindly ask him to leave, the dude kept talking.

  “Yeah? That’s a damn shame.” His smile widened. “A girl like you could have a lot of fun in this town with a guy like me.”

  And how could I not respond to that?

  “A girl like me might have some fun kicking your ass up and down main street. Other than that, I think I’ll pass and go back to enjoying my breakfast.” My face was a stone mask of rejection, but the guy seemed completely immune. His friends pressed in around us, edging me back against the wall of the booth.

  “Can’t a guy introduce himself?” He thumped a huge hand on his chest. “Name’s Wade, though I’m sure you woulda found that out soon enough if I hadn’t told you myself. I’m sort of a hometown hero.”

  I scoffed. “Competition must not be very…stiff around here, Wade.”

  His posse whooped with delight, raining playful punches down upon him. Wade laughed along, but I could see I’d pissed him off. The lines of his face hardened. His gaze flicked down over my body, lingering predictably on my chest and then on Maya’s obvious patch-up job.

  “What’s a girl like you doing on her own in these woods, anyway?” he sneered. “It’s not safe to be without a big, strong man to protect you. There are monsters.”

  “Really.” I wanted nothing more than to be rid of this asswipe for good, but no source of potential intelligence could be overlooked, no matter how distasteful. “I’ll tolerate your presence if you tell me more about that.”

  “Knew you couldn’t resist my charms!” The sleaze just oozed off of him. I stifled my urge to puke.

  “Here you go, honey.” The waitress put down my coffee mug and cast a disgruntled eye over my new tablemates. “I see the rabble’s found you.”

  “Get out of here, Irma,” Wade said. Again, he acted like he was joking, but dark sincerity lurked beneath his tone. “We’re having a conversation.”

  “No, we’re not,” I said. “You’re telling me about the monsters.”

  “That’s what I said.” He leaned back, folding his massive arms behind his head. The rolled-up sleeves of his flannel were filled to bursting. On any other guy, I might’ve been into that, but on him, it was just annoying. I set my chin in my hand and kept my eyes from rolling in their sockets.

  “Well?”

  Wade guffawed. “You’re feisty. I like that in a woman. Makes her more interesting in the kitchen.”

  Every single word that came out of his stupid mouth reminded me that I had a sword I could use to commit seppuku. But I was already all in on this, determined to see it through. If Wade had secrets, he was going to give them up.

  “The legends go back hundreds of years,” he said. “The settlers learned em from the natives. Beasts that stalk the night. Killing wherever they go.”

  What is this fool prattling about. The gods’ returned only recently. Kronin would have dealt with any Forgotten activity in these parts.

  I was inclined to agree.

  “Large, hairy beasts,” he continued. Now that I got him started, there was no slowing down. “They got giant paws like this. They go by lots of names, but only one that I use.”

  “What is it?”

  He leaned in close and spoke low, forcing me to follow suit.

  “Bigfoot.”

  As he said it, he slammed the table causing me to jump. He and his friends all started laughing and I fought the urge to shove my big foot up his ass.

  “Hey,” I shouted. “Chuckles. I’m looking for something real, not some dumbass legend.”

  A gangly kid to my left piped up. He had a mop of straw-yellow hair and a smattering of acne across his face. “It’s more than a legend. I saw one just the other day. I was tracking a deer when I came across him. Big as my truck, honest. I raised my rifle but a howl like nothing I ever heard screamed out in the distance. The thing hightailed it, leaving the deer behind all shot to shit!” he exclaimed. “By which I mean, that thing was torn to shreds. Think its legs were in four different townships!”

  I don’t know anything about this bigfooted legend, but that sounds like an apt description.

  I nodded. This kid seemed earnest enough. But it was so different than the other Forgotten I fought. They were stone cold killers, true. But they killed with a purpose—their gods purpose. Whichever god was behind this—why would they send their followers to kill deer?

  “Yeah, well I saw a giant in the woods once!” another of the men said. A raucous chorus of hollering laughter rose up, causing people to look our way again. I folded my arms and sat as far back as I could, mentally washing my hands of the whole scene. I hadn’t even really gotten a chance to drink my coffee. “A regular Paul Bunyan,” the guy added. “Too bad he ran off before I could snap a picture!”

  More laughter. My expression was slowly freezing into a bitter frown. This was not what I’d had in mind when I hatched the plan to gather information at the diner. As soon as my food came, I’d wolf it down and bust the hell out. Nothing would keep me in there for a second longer than I needed to be. Especially not after Wade started to reach across the table toward me. I got ready to break his fingers.

  “Hey!” This voice was markedly distinct from the others: old, but strong and sharp. A white head appeared in the sea of caps and balding domes. “Why don’t you dogs get along down the road now? Find a different yard to shit in.”

  “Screw off, Smitty,” Wade growled.

  “Me? You’re the one stinking up the place. People are trying to eat.” Smitty was thick and durable, strictly no-nonsense. He had pushed his way into the middle of Wade’s repulsive posse and stared each of them down individually with unyielding grey eyes. The goons began to disperse, mumbling curses under their breath. Smitty turned to the ringleader. “Go on. Get.”

  To my surprise, Wade obeyed, albeit grudgingly. He shot one last dirty look over his broad shoulder as he slunk out of the building.

  I blew out my breath, sitting back up. “Thanks.”

  The man called Smitty shrugged one shoulder. He didn’t exactly smile, but some of the brusqueness left his face. “Wade’s nothing but trouble, you understand?” he asked gruffly. “Steer clear of him. Thinks he still owns the place, but he’s just the village idiot.”

  I snorted. “That much is clear. Still, I owe you one for getting him to split.”

  The waitress reappeared with a steaming breakfast plate for me. “Don’t think anything of it, sweet pea. Smitty’s always taking out the trash around here. That’s what we pay him for.”

  Smitty grunted. “Woman, you couldn’t pay me enough for this bullshit.”

  “You’re welcome to take a seat if you want,” I said. “I’m on my own this morning. Waiting for some car trouble to get resolved.”

  He eyed me keenly. “This is a pretty unlucky place to be having car trouble. Maybe I can take a look at it after you’re done with your meal. I’m a blacksmith by trade, but I can be handy with an engine.”

  Uh oh. My bluff was dangerously close to being called. How to explain that the car, a luxury vehicle that was plainly beyond my means, currently sat on a dead-end road just outside Mormouth?

  But before I had to double down on my web of lies, someone else came bursting through the diner door. I glanced up, mouth full of pancakes. The diner went eerily silent.

  “There’s a body by the river,” the messenger announced breathlessly. “Just turned up. It looks bad.”

  A murmur rippled through the room, and a moment later, everyone was getting out of their seats. I looked down at my half-eaten breakfast, put my fork down, and joined the tide pouring out into the street.

  The old familiar paranoia set in fast. What if someone had already located the woman? What if they recognized her? What if a whole investigation began into her murder?

  I fell in behind Smitty and followed along, chewing my l
ip. Right now, surrounded by the bulk of the town, would be the worst possible time to be exposed as a murderer. I had a feeling these people might not be too receptive to the werewolf idea, particularly if the body belonged to a seemingly normal person.

  If they found me out, I was in deep trouble.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The milling throng grew as we traipsed down the road and then cut over into the tree line, heading in a direction I remembered vaguely. Voices churned around me, full of excitement, anxiety, and skepticism.

  I gathered that murders and unusual deaths were rare, that the discovery of a corpse was a macabre occasion. Hence, what seemed like the whole damn town turned out to see.

  By the time we stopped moving, I couldn’t see to the edge of the crowd. The people around me jostled for position, craning their necks to see over their neighbors’ heads. No one noticed me anymore until I pushed my way toward the front. There were mild protests, but I didn’t listen. My business there was far more important than their simple curiosity.

  The body lay on the bank of the river, its lower half in the rushing water. From a distance, I could see that the death hadn’t been easy—deep scratches gouged most of the flesh, and the arms seemed to end in little more than pale stumps. But there was no blood; all of that was gone.

  “Vamps?” I whispered to myself. Had they managed to migrate north from Palo Alto, however many were left in the aftermath of Silas Monk’s death, to prey on unsuspecting backwoods communities? If they’d been excommunicated from the mob, then it might make sense for the ugly pricks to try and eke out a living somewhere removed. Or maybe they were trying to recruit more Forgotten, and this meeting just happened to go tits-up.