Moonlight Medicine: Epidemic (The Moonlight Medicine Trilogy Book 2)

by Jen Haeger

  “I was wrong about you,” he crooned with a voice like wet gravel.

  Evelyn froze, and heard the howls of the wolf children, frighteningly close behind her.

  “Ahhhh,” murmured Christoff obscenely. “The children of the night, what beautiful music they make.”

  Evelyn turned to run again, but it was too late, the wolf children had arrived, and she screamed as Christoff’s putrid arm grabbed her from behind and she felt the first tiny claws tearing into her.

  7

  Evelyn woke with a start and was immediately confronted by David’s worried face.

  “Evie?! Are you alright?”

  They had landed while she was sleeping. The engines were quiet and she could see the landing strip in the wan light outside the airplane’s windows. She felt cold, sweaty, and stiff from sleeping in the cramped seats. David was leaning over her, his hands on her shoulders. He had evidently been shaking her awake. She looked into his eyes and a flood of emotions overtook her: relief that he was alive, desire to hold him, and then, finally, bitterness and regret as realty set in again. She broke eye contact and gently brushed his hands from her shoulders.

  “I’m fine,” she murmured.

  David drew away slightly. “You were screaming,” he said uncertainly.

  Evelyn shrugged. “I’m sorry. Nightmare.”

  They sat in heavy silence for a while until it was broken by an impatient “tsk” from the front of the plane. Evelyn looked up to find an annoyed Madeline staring her down.

  “Eef you are fine, can we pleeze go now, before eet getz dark?” she rolled her eyes and pushed roughly past David to retrieve her pack from behind them.

  Evelyn nodded and they all silently grabbed their gear and prepared for the hike to The Scribe’s compound. They locked the plane up tight and then headed off into the woods. It was chilly, but still light, so not nearly as perilous a trip as their first to see The Scribe had been. Madeline didn’t even pause to check her map this time, but headed off with surety and swiftness, all but leaving David and Evelyn behind. Even though Evelyn was in much better shape this time around and much more accustomed to finding her footing in the deep woods, she still had a little trouble keeping up with Madeline. David kept pace with Evelyn even though she was sure that he could have passed Madeline if he had known the way better than she.

  They spoke little as they hiked. Evelyn was taken with the beauty of the forest, now in the bloom of springtime. It was still quite brisk and an overcast day, nevertheless everything seemed vibrant and full of life. Green shoots and white and purple blossoms were almost everywhere. It was very different from the last time they had been there, in the dark and in the autumn, when everything had been cold and dying. While it was true that autumn had been Evelyn’s favorite time of year with the amazing leaf colors, cider mills, pumpkin pie, hay rides, and corn mazes, it was tainted for her now.

  The wonders of spring in the woods almost lifted Evelyn’s spirits and she found herself nearly smiling at David, but when she turned his way she remembered that this was not like last time. David had saved her life and had been willing to give up his own life for her then, but now he didn’t have a choice. Now both of them were condemned to not only an early grave, but also an insidious madness. Again, she reprimanded herself for blaming David. She had had multiple opportunities to run away from all of it, from the danger and the chaos, but had chosen to stay. Now she was caught up in the web, a part of the strange virus that made people into real life monsters…children into real life monsters. She gritted her teeth at that last thought and picked up her pace. She steeled herself with new determination. They would finish with The Scribe, find Clem, and get back to work at the lab. Not for her sake, not for David’s sake, but for Katie’s sake, she would find a cure.

  *

  It was not long before the rocky wall of the ravine came into view, though it seemed much more overgrown then before. Madeline drew the hammer out of her pack and banged out the coded message to let The Scribe know that someone was there. The door began to open after only a minute or so of knocking this time. Evelyn found she was a little nervous to be seeing The Scribe again. He had been mostly kind to her on their last visit, but also partly insane, and she had felt then that he could’ve snapped at any moment. She suspected that the two year interim had not done him any favors in the mental health department.

  She tensed as the door opened wide enough for a person to get through, and out stepped…not The Scribe. David and Evelyn exchanged worried looks and didn’t move, but Madeline seemed at ease with the stranger’s appearance. She turned to Evelyn and David.

  “Zees, eez Feeleepe. He eez soon to be zee new Scribe.”

  Philip was tall and thin with dark skin and dark hair that was fashioned into a longer, but still sensible hairstyle. His brown eyes were so dark that they gave the impression that he had no irises at all. He wore an immaculate brown tweed suit that was well cut and brown leather shoes. His expression gave little away. If he was surprised to see them, it didn’t show. Evelyn was rankled that Madeline had not thought to tell them about Philip earlier. She shuddered. If The Scribe was bad off enough that he had finally decided to train a replacement, it wasn’t a good sign. But then another thought struck her, one that she couldn’t help but voice aloud.

  “Will the other packs respect another Scribe?”

  Madeline was lifting her pack to her shoulder and grunted dismissively, “I don’t zee why not. Zey have never met ‘im in person.”

  Philip then interjected in a quiet, cultured voice, “It is the knowledge that they respect, and not necessarily the person.” He took a few steps and extended his hand to Evelyn. “As Madeline said I am Philip, The Scribe’s…apprentice, and you are?”

  Evelyn hesitated for only a fraction of a second and then allowed him to take her hand.

  “I’m Evelyn, and this is David,” she said, motioning to David with her free hand.

  Philip’s grip was gentle and his hand felt very soft. He held her hand after the initial shake and placed his other hand over hers.

  “Evelyn and David, yes. He speaks of you often.” Philip’s voice rose lightly and he smiled as he nodded towards David. “Please, won’t you come in?” He gestured towards the door and then finally released Evelyn’s hand.

  They all piled through the door and as Philip was cranking it back into place he turned to Evelyn again. “I have to assume that this isn’t a social call.”

  Evelyn nodded her head in confirmation.

  “The Wahya found a girl-” she began, but Philip raised his hand to stop her.

  “He will want to hear, and I don’t want to make you repeat yourself,” he explained.

  Philip finished closing the door and they walked along the stone corridors in silence for a while until Evelyn felt that could hold her tongue no longer.

  “How is he?” she ventured.

  Philip didn’t pause or turn around. “Not well,” he said softly.

  After dropping their packs in the more familiar kitchen, they went deeper into the tunnels than they had before, and the corridor grew narrow and tilted downwards. The walls were damp here and the air was noticeably colder. The sound of rushing water echoed all around them and it was so loud that it almost blocked out the screams. Almost. At first Evelyn thought it was just an effect of the echoing tunnels, but as they went on there was no mistaking it. Someone was screaming. The passage was so narrow that they were now moving single file. David, just ahead of her, glanced over his shoulder at Evelyn. His eyes were sad and serious and seemed to say, “Are you ready for this?” Evelyn swallowed hard and hugged herself against the chills running up and down her spine, but she nodded stiffly. He gave her a slightly skeptical look in reply but turned his head forward again.

  The screams intensified until it was clear that they were almost to the source. Philip stopped, and in the dim lighting of the hallway Evelyn could just make out a door blocking their way. It was a heavy iron door, similar to the one
at the entrance of The Scribe’s lair, but instead of a complicated crank mechanism, this one appeared to have three large bolts with three different locks. Philip turned to face them in the cramped quarters of the passage.

  “Try to remain calm. Speak softly. Do not make any sudden moves. Try not to upset him. He can no longer be trusted not to hurt himself or others.” He turned back to the door and drew a key ring from under his shirt and began unlocking the bolts.

  Evelyn thought that Philip’s voice reminded her of a nursemaid attending to someone’s deathbed. She glanced at David who, despite his brave face, looked somewhat nauseous, then over at Madeline who appeared both bored and disgusted. When the first bolt slid back it made a loud metallic clang that could be heard over the water and the screaming. The screams then abruptly stopped. Philip seemed to take no notice and continued on to the next bolt and then the final one, each one releasing with the same jarring clang. Philip then replaced the keys and put his shoulder against the door, which slowly began to creak open.

  8

  The door revealed a small, dimly lit room containing a cage with two-inch thick metal bars, a cot with modest bedding that had mostly been shredded and strewn about the room, and a foot wide hole in the floor that served as a toilet. Philip cautiously entered and ushered them all over to the left of the door and closed it behind them. He called out softly.

  “Scribe, you have some visitors.”

  The Scribe was hunched in the far corner of the room almost behind the cot. He was dressed in dirty rags and the smell of unwashed flesh and worse became overwhelming once the door had been shut. He was motionless, but Evelyn could hear a faint mumbling coming from his direction.

  “Scribe, it’s me, Evelyn, Evie, remember? And David’s here too, and Maddy,” Evelyn said taking a few tentative steps forward.

  Without warning The Scribe turned and launched himself at her.

  “LIAR!” he screamed, the corners of his mouth filling with frothy spittle.

  His attack came within half a foot of Evelyn, but fell short. Evelyn stumbled backwards as David flung himself in front of her. It was then that Evelyn noticed the chain around The Scribe’s ankle that was affixed to the wall. David kept himself between her and The Scribe all the while The Scribe continued to attempt to reach her, straining at his restraint and scrabbling with his fingers against the floor.

  “Liar, liaaaar! Evie wasn’t a dog and you stink like a dog!” he spat.

  David started to push Evelyn away, but she put her hand on his shoulder as she felt her eyes begin to tear up.

  “No. It’s all right, he’s just confused,” she whispered.

  Easing David aside, she knelt down outside of The Scribe’s reach. Evelyn sniffed and then took a deep breath to steady herself, as she tried to look The Scribe in the eye.

  “You’re right. I wasn’t a Wolfkin when I was here before. But now I am,” she began gently. “David and I are our own pack now, the Inali. He won the challenge, and then…and now I’m his Beta.”

  The Scribe stopped thrashing and squinted at her and then at David and finally at Madeline who had stayed distant and silent in the corner.

  “Can’t see,” he murmured, “Come closer,” he gestured to himself with his hand.

  Evelyn inched forward. He made the gesture again. She inched a bit closer. He snatched out at her quick as a snake striking and grabbed her wrist. With a swift jerk he had dragged her close enough to grab her hair, and bring her face right up next to his.

  David made to lunge at The Scribe shouting, “Evie!” but Philip intervened, grabbing his arm.

  “Wait!” he commanded while David struggled to get to Evelyn.

  The Scribe peered at Evelyn with wild, bloodshot eyes. His fetid breath felt hot and somehow sticky against her cheek. Her neck was at a painful angle to her body, but she dared not try to move for fear of setting him off. Finally, he released her and his whole body seemed to deflate. He hung his head as Evelyn scrambled backwards. Philip let go of David, who immediately knelt beside her.

  “Are you hurt?”

  Evelyn couldn’t find her voice after the shock, so she just shook her head.

  “Why have you come…back?” The Scribe asked faintly.

  Evelyn swallowed several times, because her mouth was too dry to speak. David glared at The Scribe, Madeline remained back in the corner averting her eyes, and Philip stood nearby, his hands clasped in front of him and his expression guarded. Finally, Evelyn had calmed herself enough to speak again.

  “Scribe,” she began, “the Wahya have found a little girl, about four years old,” she paused to take in a shaky breath, “and she is a Wolfkin.”

  Philip’s eyes widened and Madeline gasped, “No!” but The Scribe didn’t respond or move, so Evelyn continued.

  “She…apparently her parents were killed by a Wolfkin, and the Wahya have taken her in so that she doesn’t injure herself or anyone else.” Evelyn’s words gathered speed as she spoke, “We were hoping that you could find some sort of Wolfkin law to protect her, so that the Vulke or another pack couldn’t try to…to hurt her.”

  The room was utterly still and Evelyn noticed for the first time that the rushing water was all but silenced by the thick door. Then The Scribe began to giggle. It started very softly but then grew louder and more terrible, until it was a full-fledged, maniacal laugh that echoed around in the small chamber and made Evelyn want to cover her ears. Just as it climaxed into a shriek of twisted mirth, The Scribe threw his head back and abruptly stopped, letting a unsettling smile melt from his lips. He turned his face to Evelyn with a look of repulsion, staring right into her wide eyes.

  “She is an abomination and should be put down,” he said coldly.

  Evelyn felt like she had been punched in the stomach. She tore her eyes away and looked at the floor. David stood and towered over The Scribe. He looked as though he might kick the old man in the face.

  “Is that what the law states?” he said through clenched teeth.

  “It is the truth,” The Scribe spat.

  “But not the law,” David pressed.

  The Scribe’s eyes narrowed and he lifted his lip in a sneer, “No not the la-aw,” He sang in a sing-song mocking tone. Then he turned away from them and began crawling towards the corner he had come from. “But it doesn’t end well, does it?” he said bitterly. When he reached the corner he sank to the ground and went limp.

  “We should let him rest now,” Philip said softly.

  David made a motion like he was going to object but then glanced down at Evelyn still on the dirty floor with tears spilling from the corners of her eyes, and instead helped her up and kept himself between her and the prone body of The Scribe. When they were all once again outside The Scribe’s cell and Philip had engaged the locks, Madeline faced him.

  “Why!? Why don’t you just keel ‘im?! ‘As ‘e not told you ‘ow to stop zee boom?!”

  Philip regarded her calmly. “He has informed me of all of my responsibilities once I become the new Scribe. However, I have taken a sacred oath not to kill him.”

  David turned on Philip, “You said yourself that he’s dangerous! He could kill you and then there would be no Scribe and all the laws and knowledge would be destroyed!” he accused, “Or be left to those madmen in France!” he added.

  Philip merely shrugged his shoulders. “I have taken an oath, I will not break it,” he said blandly.

  David didn’t back down, but instead got right up in Philip’s face, “What if I beat the crap out of you and then kill him?”

  Philip blinked, “Then all this,” he motioned around them vaguely, “that he worked so hard for will be lost. There will be no history or laws to consult when there is need of them, and no Scribe to see that knowledge and justice,” he glanced at Evelyn, “prevails.” He looked back at David serenely. “The choice is yours.”

  David clenched his fist and his knuckles popped loud enough to be heard in the echoing tunnel. The corners of Madeline’s mouth tu
rned up, and she looked like she was ready to back David should he decide to rearrange Philip’s face. She shifted her stance subtly and leaned forward ready to pounce. Evelyn had been in a kind of stunned stupor since they left The Scribe’s chamber, but she finally noticed what was about to happen and threw her hands out in front of David and Madeline shielding Philip from them.

  “No!” she said sharply. “What if there had been no Scribe when we needed him!?” She stared David in the face and he turned away. Then Evelyn focused on Madeline, “And despite what you say, you must admit that The Scribe’s position is important to all of us.”

  Madeline wasn’t at all convinced, so Evelyn added, “Do you want to be responsible for giving the Vulke more power?” Madeline still looked skeptical, so Evelyn continued, “Without The Scribe’s authority, the Vulke will have more power! You know that.”

  “But what eef zees eediot gets ‘imself keeled?!”

  Evelyn turned to face Philip and her voice took on a very icy tone. “Then it will all be his fault, so I’m sure that he is taking every precaution.”