Wolf's Tale (Necon Modern Horror Book 25)

by Dan Foley

  Skeeter was driving back toward Stella’s when a sign outside Mackey’s caught his eye. Boat Rentals, now there was an idea. He could rent a boat and get a look at the cabin where the Ford was parked from the water. First though, he’d have to go home and get some fishing gear. If he just walked in and said he wanted to rent a boat just to go out on the bayou, it would look damn suspicious.

  Stella’s looked deserted when he drove by on his way to his place. The witch was gone and the picnic table was empty. The door to the shack was open, but it was too dark to see if Stella was in there. She had to be, though, if the door was open. He almost drove by, but the need to talk to someone about what was going on forced him to stop.

  Stella looked up when Skeeter walked in. “What are you doing here? I thought she sent you out on an errand?”

  “She did. I’m doing it. I just stopped here to talk.”

  “About what?”

  Skeeter looked at her like she was crazy. “About her, about Bubba, about all of ... this.”

  Stella looked around like a child that had just been caught doing something it knew it shouldn’t have. “She’s not here, is she? Her car’s gone,” Skeeter blurted out.

  “No, no, she’s gone. It’s just ...”

  “Tell me about it. That’s one scary bitch.”

  Stella didn’t answer, she just nodded her head. When she still didn’t say anything, Skeeter filled the silence by asking, “Where’s Bubba?”

  “Out back. He’s dead,” she answered, and crossed herself.

  “Dead, how do you know he’s dead?”

  “Go look for yourself. I’m not going back there.

  “Go ahead,” she told him when he didn’t move.

  Skeeter didn’t want to look, but he had to see for himself if Stella was right. Maybe she just thought he was dead.

  He could smell something rotting before he rounded the corner to the back of the shack. If that was Bubba, he had to be dead. When he turned the corner it was worse that he could have imagined. Bubba was propped up against the back wall of the building. His whole body had turned black. The open wound in his arm was still just a dry, gaping rent in his dead flesh. His blackened tongue gutted from his lips and his eyes stared lifelessly toward the swamp.

  Flies, there should be flies all over him, Skeeter thought, but there weren’t. Fighting back his gorge, Skeeter took another few steps toward Bubba’s body. When the head turned and the dead eyes flashed a horrible silver, a groan escaped from Skeeter’s mouth and his bowels emptied into his pants. It got worse when Bubba smiled at him. That’s when Skeeter broke and ran.

  Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. I’m fucked, Skeeter moaned as he made his way back to Bubba’s pickup. He wanted to run, wanted to take off and never look back, but that thing, that demon, had tasted his blood. She’ll send it after me, it will find me and bite me and then I’ll be just like Bubba. Fuck, fuck, fuck. So, instead of running, he went home, showered and changed his clothes, got his fishing gear, and went back to Bayou La Pointe to rent a boat.

  3 – A New Problem

  Wolf had no idea where he was in the swamp. He had been away from it for too long. Once he had known it like the back of his hand, but time and the hurricane had changed it to the point that now he was hopelessly lost. Great, I survive Old Ben and now I could die out here if I can’t find my way back. It had happened before, and it would happen again. Someone gets lost in the swamp and they find a body weeks later if the gators don’t get him, or not at all.

  Don’t panic, you grew up in these swamps. If anyone can find their way out, you can. Just head east until you run into solid land. He was about to do that when he felt a presence in his head. It wasn’t a ghost though; this one felt like it could be a part of him. Then he realized what it was. It was Little Wolf. Bring me home, buddy, he thought, and after that it was like following a beacon in his head.

  Little Wolf couldn’t give him directions, but Wolf could sense where he was. But, since the swamp did not allow for a straight line back, his path was filled with twists and turns along with a few dead ends. He thought he was close to finding his way out when his head exploded in an angry burst of hatred.

  What? What is it? he demanded, but Little Wolf could not answer in words. Instead, an image of a man in a boat filled his mind. It took Wolf a minute to realize he was seeing through his familiar’s eyes. Then he recognized asshole two from his fight. He was looking up at Little Wolf from the water in front of Grandmere’s. What the hell was he doing there? Whatever it was, Wolf didn’t think it could be good.

  Even using Little Wolf as a touchstone, it took another half hour of maneuvering through the swamp to get back to Grandmere’s. When he rounded the last bend and could see her cabin, the swamp in front of it was empty.

  Charlotte was at the water’s edge before Wolf reached it. He could see how relieved she was and knew she would be anxious to know what had happened. “Oh, God, I was so worried! What happened out there?”

  “Let me tie up the boat and we can go inside and talk. I’m sure Grandmere wants to hear it all too.”

  Wolf used the motor to push the prow of the boat far enough on the bank to anchor it. Then he threw the bow line to Charlotte. “Tie this off on that stump, will you?”

  Charlotte ignored his order, instead, she grabbed him in a fierce hug as soon as he climbed off the boat. “I was so worried. You were gone so long, and then Little Wolf went wild, growling and spitting. I was sure you were hurt ... or worse.”

  “I’m fine. Let’s go to the house and talk,” he told her as he tied the boat off.

  Grandmere was already setting a big bowl of chili on the table when they came onto the porch. It joined a pitcher of sweet tea and a basket full of corn bread. “I know you goin’ to be hungry, boy. So sit down and eat. Then you can tell us all ‘‘bout what happened.”

  Wolf didn’t think he was hungry, but his stomach rumbled when he smelled the chili. “Okay, just one bowl. I can talk while I eat.”

  “You too, girl. You ain’t had a bite all day,” Grandmere said as she placed a bowl in front of Charlotte. Charlotte started to protest, but she realized she was famished too.

  Wolf practically inhaled his chili and two pieces of corn bread before he stopped long enough to talk. “I made my way into the swamp. I thought Old Ben would show himself as soon as I was out of sight of the cabin, but he didn’t. I didn’t know why. I thought, maybe he didn’t know I was there, maybe he wanted to lure me further into the bayou, I didn’t know. What I did know, is that I was in there for hours waiting for him to show himself. Then, when I didn’t think he was going to, I was in his slough again. Only this time it wasn’t a vision. This time it was the real thing. Later I realized that’s why he had waited so long; he let me search for him until I found the spot where he had died, the place where he was strongest.

  “When the cold set in and the mist rose off the water, I was ready. I couldn’t wait for him to come and get me. I think I said something like, ‘Come on old enemy, it’s time for you and me to dance.’ Anyway, he did. When he entered me, I let him come. I let him invade my mind, let him feed on it. Then, when I was sure he was so enmeshed in his attack, I struck back. When he realized I was stronger than he was, and that I had trapped him, he tried to get away. I wouldn’t let him.”

  Wolf stopped his narrative when he heard a soft whimper from Charlotte. “What’s the matter?”

  “I just can’t imagine having something like that inside my mind. How can you stand it?”

  “It’s just something I have to do. If I can’t overcome it, the ghost will have me. It’s literally them or me.”

  Grandmere nodded her agreement. “That’s why I don’t do it. I couldn’t fight them. I couldn’t overcome my own fears. That’s why I left the Quarter and come down here.”

  “But aren’t there ghosts here too? There was one in that truck Wolf bought. Why don’t they attack you?” Charlotte asked.

 
“Because my power ain’t as strong as Melvin’s, and because I don’t challenge them.”

  “But still, you have power. I don’t understand,” Charlotte insisted.

  Grandmere reached inside her house dress and brought out her gris-gris. “An’ I got this. Mose made this and those haints can feel his power in it. They know if they mess with me, they goin’ to have to deal with him. Old Ben was de only one strong nuff for that, but he stuck in that swamp an’ I never go in there.”

  Charlotte fingered her own gris-gris through the blouse she was wearing.

  “That right. That bag hangin’ round your neck is powerful. Don’t you ever take if off. Ain’t that right, Melvin?”

  Melvin fingered his own gris-gris and thought of the coin he was sure had belonged to Old Ben. “Yes, but she already knows that.”

  “So, finish your story,” Grandmere told him as she refilled his bowl with chili.

  “Once I had Ben trapped, I searched through his mind to find the things that he feared. I found the men that hung him, I found the fire that burned him, and I found the memories of all the men he had killed. I turned his fears and their fears against him. I fed him more fear and hate that even he could eat. When I was done, Ben was gone.

  “It wasn’t until I was ready to leave that I realized that Ben had waited until I found the place where he had died to attack me. It was in a part of the swamp I had never been in before, and I thought I had been almost everywhere in there. I only recognized it because I had seen it in his mind. I beached my jon boat and explored a bit. I found the ruins of his cabin. There wasn’t much left, just a little, but it was definitely the place.”

  “An’ there wasn’t any little piece of him still there?”

  “No, he was completely gone. But there was one thing. Just after my fight with Ben I saw a dead gator in the water. It was the second one I’ve seen since coming back. For a minute, I had the queerest feeling that it was watching me. I was tempted to put a slug in it, but it sank.”

  Charlotte and Grandmere shared a look of concern. “What,” Wolf demanded when he saw it. “What happened while I was gone?”

  Charlotte deflected the question. “There was a man in a boat, right down there,” she told him, pointing to where Wolf’s jon boat was now tied up. “When Little Wolf saw him he sort of went crazy, growling and spitting.”

  Wolf nodded. “I saw him through Little Wolf’s eyes. He’s one of the guys I had a fight with the other day. Little Wolf scratched the shit out of his face. But why would he be up here? I saw him way down on the delta near a catfish shack.”

  Charlotte looked to Grandmere for advice. “Tell him,” the old woman said.

  “Mose said not to tell you this until after you dealt with Old Ben. He said you needed to concentrate on Ben first.”

  Wolf looked from Charlotte to Grandmere. When neither of them spoke, he asked again. “Tell me what?”

  This time Charlotte spoke up. “He said that there’s a woman down here who also has the power you have. Her name is Renee La Pierre.”

  “So?”

  “Renee La Pierre is a bad woman. She think she da queen down here. She don’t want anyone to be as strong as she is. Now that you got rid of Old Ben, she goin’ to know how strong you are. If you stay here, she goin’ to come after you.”

  “He also said that she would try to make you her slave,” Charlotte told him. “And if she couldn’t do that, she might try to kill you.”

  “Make me her slave? How the hell could she make me her slave?”

  “You know how. With her familiar. If it bites you, she can control you once the poison reaches your brain. But she’d rather drink your blood and drain your power." Charlotte looked down at her hands before telling him the rest. “He also said she would come after me if she found out I was important to you. That’s why he suggested Little Wolf go stay with me. He’ll be able to warn me if La Pierre or her familiar come around.”

  Wolf was stunned. He had just gotten rid of one threat, and now he had to deal with another one — a worse one. This one was also a threat to Charlotte and his grandmere. It was too much.

  “Well, we’ll see about that,” he told them.

  Charlotte reached across the table and took his hands in hers. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to find that little asshole and see what he was doing up here.”

  “You be careful mon chere. That Renee La Pierre is one dangerous woman.”

  “Well, I’m one dangerous man myself,” Wolf answered. And, with all that went on, Wolf forgot about the dead gator. He was about to say something else, when Charlotte jumped up in a panic. “Oh my God, it’s almost three! I’m going to be late. You have to take me to work.”

  4 – Skeeter

  Skeeter did not want to go back to Stella’s. Not when he had to pass along the news that Lobo’s grandmere and his woman had seen him and that the woman had one of those rats that had scratched his face. The witch had been adamant that he not let Lobo or the woman know he was watching them, and now this had happened. He was tempted to just take his chances and run. But where would he go? And what if she sent that demon of hers after him? Better to take my chances and hope for the best, I guess. But I’m not going back there now. I’ll wait for tomorrow. Tonight I’m going to get good and drunk.

  He was sitting in the parking lot of the Seven-Eleven with a six pack of Dixie when Lobo’s red Ford pulled in. “Shit,” he swore to himself and slid down onto the seat, hoping they wouldn’t see him.

  He heard the Ford stop, heard a door open and close, and the car pulled out again. What the hell, he thought. Why did he just stop and pull out?

  When the sound of the car was gone, Skeeter risked a peek over the dash. There was no one in sight. Then, a minute later, a woman came out, got into a car parked off to the side of the lot, and drove away. What the hell is going on now? Wait, maybe she works in there. If she does, and I can tell the witch that, she might not be too pissed about the other thing. Skeeter had no way of knowing that walking into the Seven-Eleven was a worse idea than renting a boat and taking it past Lobo’s grandmere’s place.

  When he walked in, there was a woman behind the counter. She was looking down at something. Skeeter heard her say, “What’s bothering you? You’ve been acting crazy ever since we got in here.”

  What the hell’s she got back there, a dog? he thought. Then she said, “Get back in there. You can’t come out when I’m working.”

  When she looked up and asked him if she could help him, he recognized her as Lobo’s woman.

  He was about to answer when another one of those red rats jumped up on the counter. “Stop!” the woman cried, but it was too late, the damn thing had already launched itself at him. He turned to run and felt it land on the back of his leg. “Get it off me!” he yelled and swatted at it.

  “Wolf, get back here,” she screamed at it, and for a second nothing happened. Then it dropped to the floor and ran back behind the counter while Skeeter ran for the door and safety. In his shock, and rush to get away, he never felt the twin pricks of Little Wolf’s fangs on his inner thigh.

  Christ that was close, but at least I’ve got some more information for the witch, he thought as he drove south.

  Skeeter dreaded the sound of each approaching car as he sat in his usual spot at the picnic table outside Stella’s. Bubba was still sitting, propped up, dead, against the back wall of the shack. It had scared the shit out of him.

  Maybe she’s not coming, Skeeter thought when nine o’clock came and went. Should I go back to Bayou La Point, or wait here for her? I could tell her I was looking for more information.

  “Better not,” Stella called to him as he was heading for the truck. “You better be sitting right there when she gets here. That’s one woman you don’t want to piss off.”

  “Tell her I ...” Skeeter started to say, and then saw La Pierre’s car coming toward them. Without another word, he turned
around and went back to his seat.

  When La Pierre got out of the car, her familiar rushed across the lot and jumped up on the table in front of Skeeter where it sat and growled at him.

  Jesus, I hate that thing. The creature bared its fangs and hissed at him as if it could read his mind.

  When the witch reached the table she gave him a severe look before sitting down. “I know, my pet, I know.” Then she glared at Skeeter. “What did you find out for me?”

  “Lobo’s woman lives in a house at the end of the street where I saw them turn the other night. It doesn’t have a name, but it’s the second right past the Seven-Eleven. It’s the only house on the street. She works at the Seven-Eleven.”

  La Pierre waited for him to go on. When he didn’t she frowned at him. “And?”

  “And she has one of those,” he said, pointing to her familiar. “It looks just like the one Lobo has.”

  “She does, does she? And how did you find that out?”

  Skeeter hesitated before he answered. He was skating on thin ice here and he knew it. “I rented a boat so I could go past his Grandmere’s cabin and look at it from the water. She was there with the old lady. The thing was there with them. I could see it from the boat.”

  La Pierre nodded. “Anything else I should know?”

  “He just got out of the navy. That’s why he has Connecticut plates on his car. I guess he grew up down here.”

  “That’s it? Nothing else?” the witch asked as if she knew he was holding something back.

  Skeeter dropped his eyes and looked at his hands before answering. “No, nothing else.”

  “You’re not going to tell me that the creature bit you?”

  “What, it didn’t bite me. I swear it didn’t.”

  “Really? Well ... I guess it’s possible you don’t know. But it certainly did. My darling can smell it on you. Show him my sweet.” Before Skeeter could move, the witch’s familiar was clawing at this thigh.