Hair in All the Wrong Places 2

by Andrew Buckley

  “You’re creating werewolves!”

  That laugh again. “I’d hoped that Mr. Winter would be the one to tear Elkwood apart, but I didn’t account for your old werewolf friend. So I created more. And more. Don’t worry, you’ll be meeting some of them soon. They’re not as brutal as Winter was; he really hated that town. But I think you’ll find them to be quite the handful.”

  Again with the revealing of his evil plan.

  Colin let out a sigh. “Why are you doing this? Shouldn’t you be in Las Vegas making people levitate or something?”

  “Because Elkwood is a waste!” snapped Talbot. “So much raw power in one place and look what you’re all doing with it? Building a pretty little rainy town. All of you, acting like you’re normal when you’re nothing of the sort!”

  Colin could feel Talbot’s anger. There was something deep and terrible about it. It wasn’t just anger, it was a mix of emotions, and it was all filtering out through the hellstone—a throbbing blend of hatred, sadness, and rage.

  The light of the full moon broke through the clouds for a brief moment and Colin felt his muscles grow and shrink back down. The change was here.

  “Why do you care so much about Elkwood?” said Colin.

  The man stood up and idly brushed off his suit. “I’d say you should ask your grandmother and that little old man in the woods, but unfortunately you’re not going to remember any of this.”

  Grandmother and Alfred? Why? Do they know who this guy is?

  “I’ll never forget you!” said Colin in what he hoped was a threatening tone. Truthfully, he didn’t know what to make of the man. There was a sense of power to him that worried Colin. How could he fight someone he couldn’t even get near?

  “Actually, you will. I’m going to cast a small spell that will erase the last ten minutes from your memory. And don’t worry; I’ll make it untraceable. You’re going to forget this conversation, everything I told you, everything we spoke about. The only memory you’ll have of me is from when you glimpsed me in Seattle.”

  Colin began to panic. He had to remember this moment, somehow, some way.

  Becca! Becca! I don’t know if you can hear me but you have to remember the name Damon Talbot. Damon Talbot! He’s the one! Damon Talbot!

  Talbot stood, closed his eyes, and traced lines through the air. His hands glowed red and left streaks in the air where they moved. The rock began to glow brighter and Talbot’s heart began to race.

  A symbol started to appear. A floating bright red symbol full of squiggles, and strange little shapes with lines through them. Talbot inhaled deeply and blew the symbol, which shattered in the air, and the pieces flew directly into Colin’s body.

  Talbot smiled, gave a little wave, and vanished into thin air.

  Colin looked around the campsite. He was about to do something but couldn’t remember what. He felt like he was on the very edge of the change, but only moments ago he’d been stretching, getting ready for it.

  Did I fall asleep?

  The full moon peeked through the clouds again and Colin’s heart rate increased with excitement as the creature broke free. The full moon change was different than the usual transition from human to werewolf. Colin found it hard to describe, but it was as if he truly lost control. The wolf was in the driver’s seat and Colin was just an opinionated passenger, urging the wolf where to go and how to get there.

  Hair sprouted all over his body and the ground rushed away as he grew taller. Nails sprang into claws, bones realigned, and muscles flexed and grew with a sickening, squelchy sensation. Colin felt the centuries of werewolves that had passed before him in that single moment. Felt their blood pounding through his veins.

  The change completed and Colin stood to his full height, the smells and sounds of the forest intoxicating him, and threw back his head and howled.

  Hunger overcame him and he dropped to all fours and leapt high into the air, grabbing onto a branch and swinging himself against a tree. His sharp claws dug into the damp bark and he climbed higher and higher until he broke through the top shelf of the trees. He inhaled deeply and caught the scent of a deer to the east. Colin swung down and hopped from tree to tree before dropping back to the ground and landing in a run. Falling to all fours he galloped through the forest, chasing the scent.

  He felt strong and free. The wind whipped through his fur, and Colin felt happy and content for the first time since the event in Seattle. For the hundredth time this week, he wondered who the man with the glowing red eyes had been. And what did he want?

  But the thought was fleeting.

  Colin was a werewolf.

  A hungry werewolf.

  And dinner was about to be served.

  Chapter Twelve

  Full Moon Campout

  Colin awoke the next morning lying facedown and naked on a small pebbled beach. The gray waves lapped gently upon the shore and seagulls circled high above. The full moon change came with a few drawbacks. Other than the general lack of control (compared to when Colin voluntarily changed into a werewolf), there was often a period toward the end of the night where the human side would become exhausted from trying to keep up with the werewolf side. When this happened, Colin found he would just blackout and wake up somewhere.

  He stood up and stretched, his muscles aching from an entire night of wolf-play. He’d hunted and eaten, ran and jumped. He vaguely remembered prowling the northern edge of the forest. He hadn’t encountered anything other than a number of woodland creatures, many of which he had eaten.

  I did it. I survived my first night alone on the full moon!

  Colin felt that Silas would have been proud of him.

  He took a swim in the ocean. The water was freezing cold, but Colin didn’t care. It felt good on his tired body as he washed off the smells of the night. He made his way back to his camp and caught the scent of something perfumed, like a candle had been burning. It was very faint, but it was there. Colin shrugged. There were no other signs that anyone had been there. Could just be a stray scent on the wind.

  He dried off with a towel and relighted the campfire. Despite feasting all night, Colin was starving. Running around as a werewolf all night burned a lot of calories.

  At their first full moon campout, Silas had told him that eating was a priority: “It keeps the wolf inside happy. Remember to eat more during the full moon; that’s when the wolf is at its most ravenous. If you don’t eat enough during the day, you’ll end up with a hungry werewolf at night and it’ll be harder to control yourself.”

  “What happens at night if I don’t eat enough?” Colin had asked.

  “You’ll want to hunt for big game to satisfy your appetite.”

  “What kind of game? Moose?”

  The old werewolf had given him that grizzled, knowing smile and shook his head. “Humans.”

  That’s the last thing Colin wanted to do, so he’d made sure to pack lots of food and had asked Becca to bring even more with her when she and Jeremy headed up later today.

  Colin unpacked an electric razor and a small shaving mirror while bacon began to sizzle in a skillet on the fire. His reflection looked back at him in the small mirror and smiled. His eyes were a deep amber color that always looked brighter after a change. He hadn’t shaved the night before like he always did at home, so Colin’s face was covered with an inch of thick beard. The hair growth was getting worse and harder to manage. Silas had told him it would ease off after the first hundred years.

  Just another ninety-nine-and a half years to go.

  Colin shaved off the beard completely and dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. It was heavily overcast but at least it wasn’t raining. There was a chill in the air, though it didn’t bother Colin at all as his body generated enough heat to warm a small building.

  A sense of excitement ran through him. He was looking forward to seeing Becca and Jeremy today. Not just because he missed seeing them, but also because this was a new experi
ence. Six months ago, he was a nobody people loved to bully. He had friends now. A girlfriend. Silas. A good relationship with his grandmother.

  He’d tried thinking at Becca but hadn’t received a response. Colin had filled a notebook trying to figure out how telepathically communicating with non-werewolves actually worked but the rules always seemed to be different. Sometimes he could do it, sometimes he couldn’t. He’d asked Silas how he could get better at it. The older wolf had simply replied that it wasn’t something you could practice—it was a power that grew with age. Some werewolf abilities were strong right away while others took time to develop, which sometimes came with all new problems.

  “Not everyone can handle being a werewolf,” Silas had said. “Sometimes they’re just not strong enough and the wolf takes over. Or they have an evil spirit, or they’ve been cursed before they’re bitten, and all that evil carries over into the werewolf side of them and poisons it.” Silas looked sad in that moment. “Unfortunately, there are more bad werewolves than good ones.”

  Colin removed the bacon from the fire and devoured it right off the skillet. He placed the metal pan back over the fire and cracked several eggs. After drinking a few liters of water, eating all the eggs, several pieces of crusty bread, half a box of dry cereal, and a bag of pepperoni sticks, Colin finally felt full and his head began to grow heavy. When camping with Silas, they would normally have breakfast and then nap for a few hours. Running and hunting all night was tiring, even for a werewolf. The time on Colin’s cell phone read 9:08 a.m. and the notification bar showed there was no signal this far out in the forest.

  Becca and Jeremy wouldn’t be out here until after four o’clock and Colin still planned to meet them halfway. He could afford to sleep for a little while.

  He unzipped his tent and curled up on top of his sleeping bag, quickly falling into a deep sleep filled with memories from werewolves of the past: screaming villagers wielding pitchforks, silver bullets whizzing past his head, and every so often, somewhere in the background, a well-dressed man with glowing red eyes and a hellstone hanging around his neck.

  ***

  Colin awoke to the sound of his own stomach grumbling. The time on his cell phone showed 2:12 p.m.

  “Oh man, I overslept.”

  A light rain was falling when Colin stepped out his tent and his fire had burned down to embers. He thought briefly about the fire imp back at the army base and hoped Burnie was okay. His stomach growled again.

  Food. Must eat. Hungry werewolf over here.

  Colin tore through a bag of chips, several packages of beef jerky, and a cold, cooked steak that his grandmother had left for him in the fridge.

  He doused the fire, pulled on a hoodie, and headed south, back in the direction of Elkwood. The map Colin had drawn for Becca would lead her and Jeremy up the coast and then along an old hiking trail that ran through the forest toward the main highway several miles to the east. Colin would intercept them on the path and then guide them back to his camp. It was exhilarating to think that he’d see Becca soon. They spent so much time together that it felt weird to be apart.

  After an hour of walking and enjoying the smells and sounds of the forest, Colin found the hiking trail. It was a wide trail, so while it was overgrown, it still provided a clear path through the trees.

  Colin thought about Alfred all of a sudden and wondered if the old wizard could truly speak to the trees. He considered talking to one of the trees and sending the old man a friendly message thanking him for the breakfast, but Colin simply couldn’t bring himself to talk to a tree.

  He was trying to decide whether to head along the path to meet Becca and Jeremy or if he should just wait for them to come to him when he picked up another scent. It was familiar yet strange. It was on the path but heading away from him in the direction of the highway. The scent was a few days old but something had been through here. Something uncommon to the forest.

  Colin crouched down and sniffed the ground. He closed his eyes and inhaled the smell deeply.

  The forest sprang to life in his mind, painting a picture of lush greens and deep browns. Spots of yellows and reds formed the shapes of animals, hidden by the trees, but their scent marked them in Colin’s mind. Running away along the path was the odd scent mark that, in his mind, created a solid orange line. Colin opened his eyes.

  That’s strange.

  Colin’s wolf senses combined scents and sounds to paint pictures, but they were never as clear as this single scent running through the forest. Colin closed his eyes again and inhaled deeply. The bright orange line was there again. He concentrated on the line, trying to pick up anything familiar, any sense of emotion or—

  A picture sliced into his mind like a blade. It was brief and painful. Colin opened his eyes and clutched his head.

  He’d seen a werewolf with black shaggy hair running along the path. It was just a snapshot, but Colin could feel what the wolf had felt in that moment: the exhilaration of running, the thrill of the hunt, and so much anger. Colin closed his eyes and tried again. The orange line was still there but nothing sprang to his mind. He tried harder, growing angrier with himself that he couldn’t bring to mind the black werewolf. It had been here, just days ago. Another werewolf. On Colin’s territory. Rage ripped through him. He felt a profound sense that this was his and Silas’s area. Their home. And someone had dared walk through it!

  This is our home. Our territory! I want to … What’s wrong with me?

  He felt claws begin to grow on his right hand as his wolf creature struggled to get out.

  A warm hand rested on his shoulder and a concerned voice said, “Colin?”

  Colin whipped around, clawed hand at the ready, and came face to face with—

  “Becca?”

  The anger drained from him when he saw the worried look on her face. He could even smell a hint of fear, and Becca was rarely scared. Colin hid his hand behind his back, ashamed that for the briefest of moments he’d felt fully prepared to kill whatever was around him.

  “Hey, Col!” said Jeremy cheerfully. He was twenty feet behind Becca. “Becca, if you’re going to all of a sudden decide to go for a jog, let me know next time.”

  “I heard your thoughts,” whispered Becca. “You sounded furious. I thought something was wrong.”

  Colin looked around the forest, a sense of worry washing over him. The girl he cared for and his best friend were out here alone with him in the woods, and he’d almost lost control because of a scent. On top of that, there had been another werewolf out here only a couple of days ago. But there had been no other signs, just the one scent. There had been nothing north, near his campsite.

  “I’ll tell you later,” said Colin, forcing a smile. “How was the hike?”

  “Tiring,” said Jeremy, joining them. “I don’t know what kind of spell you cast over Becca, but she hiked like a crazy person. Wouldn’t let us rest.”

  Colin smiled a real smile at Jeremy’s choice of words. Their friend had no idea that Colin was a werewolf or that Becca was a witch. And thanks to some heavy magic, Jeremy didn’t know what he himself was. Unfortunately, neither did anyone else.

  “What did you tell your parents?” asked Colin.

  Jeremy laughed. “It was actually weird. I told them the truth thinking I’d have to explain my way around it, but they didn’t care. It’s like they didn’t fully believe I was going camping with you two, but at the same time treated it all like a big joke. They just didn’t care. Helped me pack even. But that’s my parents, totally oblivious to everything.

  Colin and Becca glanced at each other. Jeremy had pretty much just summed up his own attitude toward everything. Whatever Jeremy was, maybe his parents were the same thing too? Or maybe they were magicked that way to help them deal with whatever Jeremy was. Becca had tried asking her dad about him, but Mr. Emerson had simply told her it was classified.

  Jeremy hiked on ahead, humming happily while Colin and Becca walked hand in
hand. Colin could still sense her concern.

  “I’m okay, honest,” said Colin, trying to sound confident.

  “How was last night by yourself?”

  “Uneventful. Did some hunting, ran a lot, climbed the occasional tree.”

  She squeezed his hand playfully. “Didn’t eat anyone, then?”

  “Just a deer. Possibly a raccoon.”

  “Gross! But okay otherwise?”

  “I think Silas would be proud. Oh, I met Alfred too.”

  “The wizard?”

  “He gave me breakfast.”

  “I’ve met him a couple times, and only briefly. What was he like?”

  “Old. Kind. He seemed nice. Talks to trees.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. Your mom didn’t question your excuse?”

  “Nope. Seemed perfectly happy that I’d be away for a couple of days. She’s probably settling down with a book and a bottle of wine as we speak.”

  “Anything new on our possibly dead, undead, zombiefied, or immortal principal?”

  “Today was the first day this week that nothing happened at school. Nothing weird, at least. Other than popping up to the biology lab to see how the repairs were coming along, Sampson mostly kept to his office. I felt like he might be avoiding me.”

  Farther up ahead, Jeremy lost his footing on a log and tripped into a tree branch, which he pushed out of the way only to have it swing back and slap him on the back of the head. “Ouch,” he shouted, rubbing the sore spot. “Don’t worry, I’m okay!” he shouted back.

  “I had a weird night last night, though,” said Becca.

  “Weird how? More of your witch powers messing with your sleep?”

  “No, not this time. It was really strange,” said Becca. “I woke up because I thought I heard you speaking to me.”