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Best New Werewolf Tales (Vol. 1)

Page 20

by Wilson, David Niall; Lamio, Michael; Newman, James; Maberry, Jonathan; Everson, John; Daley, James Roy


  * * *

  The sun reached its highest point when the two Union soldiers stumbled out of the Virginian mountainside. Uniforms tattered, faces marred with blood and a trail of filth behind them, the two men stopped and collapsed.

  James pawed his canteen and brought it to his lips. Robert’s eyes widened and he ripped the canteen from his comrade’s twitching hands. “Give it here,” he roared as the water poured onto his face.

  “What in the Lord’s good name happened to our troop?” James whimpered.

  “It was attacked, you fool.”

  “By what?”

  “A wolf.”

  “No, that was no wolf. It was something out of Hell itself. Did you see our friends? Our brothers? They were torn to—”

  “No more James. It was a wolf. Let’s keep moving before we take the blame for that carnage back there.”

  James pulled himself up reluctantly and followed his buddy. The night before their troop marched toward Richmond to join General Butler and his men. The fall of the Confederate’s capitol city was imminent. In the onset of night the troop became disoriented, the light of the full moon befuddled their minds, and they became lost.

  A shortcut through the mountains rendered them worse off then before and they camped. During the middle of the night they were attacked, Robert reached for James who scrambled for his rifle. A blood bath of nightmarish proportions unfolded, but not at the hands of Confederate soldiers. James’s firearm slipped into his hand and he got off one shot, at what he wasn’t sure, before his world went black.

  James tried to push the thought out of his mind. His heart was wracked with the memories of his friends’ bodies lying in pieces around him as he woke from what felt like hibernation. “Captain Blake? Where on earth is the captain?”

  “God only knows now,” Robert answered glumly. “We need to reconnect with the rest of the Union. Grant has the Confederates nailed down in Petersburg. He needs our help.”

  James said nothing, his words died in the numb shock of the sights around him. Farms were laid to waste. The burnt out shells of civilian homes still smoldered on either side of the road they walked. Cattle were slaughtered. In some farms lifeless bodies littered the ravaged fields.

  “What has the Union become?” James turned his head from the destruction and closed his eyes.

  “Total war my friend,” Robert said, noticing his distressed comrade. “General Grant understands the concept. He knows it’s necessary. Only an utter and total defeat of the separatists will end that war.”

  “You support this?” There was a harsh tone in James’s voice.

  Robert said nothing more.

  Hours of walking in the hot sun brought thirst and hunger. Hours of silence between the soldiers brought broken morale. When the lush gardens surrounding the last house out of the area appeared before them, the men nearly wept.

  “It hasn’t been touched,” Robert said of the two-story white house with a picket fence surrounding it with perfection. “They must have missed it on the ride through here. We need food and water. Someone must be there.”

  “They will not welcome us with open arms,” James said.

  “Of course not,” Robert said. “We will take it if we have to.”

  “I won’t hurt civilians… I won’t…”

  “We’ll starve.” Robert’s face turned red. His eyes narrowed. He drew his knife and grabbed James’s arm. “You will take it or we’ll both die. I need you. We’re buddies, remember?” A grin twisted onto Robert’s face, his yellow teeth glinting in the sun. “We’re not going to kill anyone unless they try to kill us. We just need food and water or we’ll never make it back home.”

  James thought about this. He missed his wife dearly and his two boys. Too much time passed since he’d last seen them. And the letters had stopped. “Alright.”

  “That’s a good soldier.” Robert turned and hopped the picket fence as nimble as a cat. “I wish we hadn’t lost our rifles,” he whispered back to James. “Feel naked without mine.”

  James ignored him, but followed through a vivid painter’s palette of flowers and herbs flooding the yard on every side. Perfume hung thick in the air. Something in it, he wasn’t quite sure, made his nose twitch.

  * * *

  Faint music resounded from above as the two soldiers slipped into the house and crossed the living room. The aroma of cooking food tantalized their senses. James began to salivate.

  Robert turned back and brought his finger to his lips, a moment later he vanished into another room. James stood his ground and looked around the room. He soaked in the beautiful tapestries on the walls, the long woven rugs on the floor and the laced covered furniture in the center of the room.

  James took a step toward the huge fireplace with its carved mantle when a footfall stopped him. He assumed Robert’s return, but instead felt the cold barrel of a rifle against his neck.

  “Do not move,” a woman’s voice said. “You are a stranger in my home and I have the right to kill you.”

  James put up his trembling hands in surrender. Yes end it now. Please, end it.

  The sound of another voice filled the room. “Kill him and I will kill her.”

  James turned to see Robert standing in the room with an adolescent girl in his arms. His knife was to her throat. Beside him, James took note of the woman, probably mid-twenties, lowering her rifle.

  A scream erupted as a third girl charged the room swinging a hatchet above her head. She launched herself at Robert who promptly shoved his hostage to the floor and swung his knife wide.

  The blade slashed the attacking girl’s right hand, stopping her cold. The hatchet toppled as blood flowed. The girl dropped to her knees and wailed.

  Robert lifted his knife to strike again.

  “Not my sister!” the young woman yelled and lifted her rifle but James grabbed hold of it first.

  “Robert no!” James turned and pointed the rifle directly at his comrade. “Enough. They’re just girls.”

  Robert lowered his weapon as the three sisters huddled on the floor. “Please don’t kill us,” the oldest said.

  “We don’t want to kill you,” James answered. “We just want some food and water, ma’am. We are starving.”

  “That’s right,” Robert added with a sickening grin. “We only want food and we’ll leave you alone. Promise. What are your names?”

  “Emily,” the oldest said. “These are my sisters Rebecca and Annabelle, whose arm you just cut.”

  “We’re very sorry about that,” James said on behalf of them both. “We did not mean to hurt any of you.”

  Emily ripped a piece of her apron and tied it around Annabelle’s bleeding hand. “Let me tend to my sister’s wound, then I will fix you both some supper. It will be getting dark soon.” She glanced out the windows with concern.

  “That’d be fine, ma’am.” James watched the three sisters gather themselves and move into the kitchen. He turned around to see Robert approaching him. He was seething.

  Robert slid his face to James’s ear and whispered: “If you ever point a rifle at me again I’ll eat you alive.”

  * * *

  “Your dreams,” Annabelle whimpered as her big sister Emily washed the wound.

  “Yes, the men have come my sisters. As I have told you. My dreams never lie. We must not let them destroy us.” Emily stared into the faces of her younger sisters. Fear left its mark on them. “They must go from here. We must make them go like all the others. This is our home.”

  Emily led the other girls to the dining area where they set the table for the two soldiers. James and Robert took their seats at the oak table covered in lacy cloth. “We’ve been working on a stew in the hearth,” Emily said as she stood at the head of the table, a space she had reserved for herself. She refused to sit the Union men there. “It should be ready shortly.”

  “Thank you,” James said. Robert only grinned.

  At dusk the three sisters served up steaming bowls of meat s
tew with root vegetables. Like gluttons, James and Robert devoured the stew as if they hadn’t eaten in weeks. Rebecca and Annabelle simply poked at their food with forks, disinterested and eyeing the soldiers with suspicion.

  Emily looked up from her bowl and said softly: “You cannot stay here.”

  Robert looked up from his bowl; a glob of thick gravy covered his chin. “Why not?”

  “A full moon rises again tonight. It is not safe in these parts under a full moon.”

  “Is that so?” Robert chuckled. “I reckon we can handle a full moon. Our entire troop was butchered and we survived that.”

  “Butchered?” Emily was both horrified and glad. “The way our friends and family have been?”

  “We do not know anything about that,” Robert answered. “But come to think of it. How has your house remained unscathed during the war?”

  “I know how to protect the home,” Emily sneered. “My grand pappy taught me how to deal with your kind.”

  Robert roared a great belly laugh. “Did he now? My you are a spitfire. Your grand pappy never met the likes of us before.” Robert pounded his fist on the table and screamed. “Boo!”

  All of the girls jumped.

  “Robert that’s enough,” James interrupted.

  “I’m just having some fun.” Robert let out more laughter when a howl from outside silenced him.

  Emily looked to the windows. “It’s started,” she murmured. “It’s too late.”

  Rebecca and Annabelle shivered as the howl repeated.

  “The wolf returns,” Robert said and jumped from his chair. What sounded more like a roar then a howl resounded just outside the house.

  “By God’s grace not again,” James left his chair next and joined Robert’s side.

  A crash assaulted the timbered front door. It buckled once as the shelves on the adjacent walls crumpled to the floor.

  Rebecca and Annabelle screamed as tears flooded their cheeks. They ran to Emily’s awaiting arms. Emily remained calm.

  “Come little ones,” Emily whispered. “Let us allow the beast to do its work.”

  Emily ushered her younger sisters away from the table and out of the room. Annabelle’s wound seeped from beneath her bandage and as they passed the first window behind them, a storm of glass and wood exploded around them.

  The shutters splintered as a pair of clawed, fur-clad arms lunged and grabbed hold of Annabelle. The scent of her wound drove the beast mad. It tore the wailing girl from Emily’s arms, shook her violently before dragging her from the house.

  “Annabelle!” Emily screamed. Her eyes widened. Her heart dropped into her stomach. She pushed Rebecca to the floor to shield her from the flying debris and peered out of the ruined window.

  In the milky light of the moon an enormous wolf, more than six feet tall, stood on its hind legs. Long muscular arms pulled Annabelle to its snout where it clamped down on her throat. Emily heard a snap as blood poured to the ground. She hid her eyes and turned away from the window.

  “Lord… good lord why?” Emily collapsed with Rebecca and cradled her tight. Heavy steps thudded in front of her. She gazed up to see Robert grinning down at her.

  “Aw girls, don’t be upset,” Robert said. “Our Captain is just following his nature. The same manner that we do.” He went to the other windows and ripped the shutters from them, letting the moonlight flood the room.

  “No Robert! Not again,” James cried as he stumbled over to stop his friend, but froze in the pale moonlight. “What is happening to me?”

  “James, you do this every full moon,” Robert snapped as his teeth grew long and pointed. “You really need to let go of that guilt, buddy. You, captain and me are a pack. We hunt together. Stop pretending you have no memory of it. Accept your nature and eat!”

  Rooted to the spot, Emily watched James turn to her, his eyes bleeding with guilt and remorse. “I’m sorry––so very sorry. I have no control over it. I must obey the moon––” His face twisted in anguish.

  Emily felt her pulse race and her breath quicken. Rebecca buried her head into her older sister’s chest. In mute horror she watched James’s eyes morph black before blazing with yellow.

  “Emily run!” James howled as his words melted into grunts and growls. “R-r-r-rah-un!”

  * * *

  James’s blood boiled while his entire body burned as if with fever. The pain of the transformation was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, even during this war. His flesh split as muscles ripped, coarse brown fur covered his body, and his bones cracked as the shifting converged.

  His face stretched into a snout wet with blood and saliva, and filled with dagger-like teeth. Fingers elongated into claws. His shape transformed into a hulking abomination he knew all too well.

  He hated himself more with every change. Each full moon the hunger worsened. Until last night, the unthinkable happened. Robert, the captain and himself lived under the curse for some time, but none thought they would ever massacre their entire troop.

  Their hunger was insatiable. Even after the devouring of all their comrades, their bellies were still filled with the pain of starvation. James knew it was out of control. Knew it was too powerful. So maddening was the guilt, he hoped the war would kill him. It was the only reason he served. He didn’t believe in the ideals, the politics. He just wanted to end the curse. He just wanted to die. Now that hope faded with the light of the full moon.

  The James-wolf snarled and turned to Robert, who was also fully transformed and dancing in the pale white light filling the room. James watched Robert race to the front door and rip it off its hinges, allowing their captain inside the home.

  The captain’s fur was wet with blood, matted around his muzzle. He joined his two men and the three howled in unison. The hunger raged again.

  The werewolves tore through the house. Emily and Rebecca were no longer in sight. They heeded James’s pleas and vacated the room. Cunning as ever, the wolves knew the girls could not have gone far. The house was just not large enough to hide from the pack.

  The creatures destroyed furniture in their hunt, thrashed closet doors, tore human food to pieces, and stormed the root cellar and pantries. Finally, James eyed the set of stairs ascending to a second floor shrouded in darkness.

  The James-wolf yelped to his pack and they closed in. He was only following instinct, and appeasing the agony of the hunger, but he hoped the girls were not up there. He prayed for an end somehow––but in the end, roared up the stairs.

  * * *

  Emily rushed Rebecca up the stairs as the soldiers were locked in their transformations below. They burst into the nearest bedroom, shut the door behind them and latched it for all the good it would do.

  “Under the bed,” Emily told Rebecca. “Right quick!”

  The quaking Rebecca cried, tears streaming in torrents, but obeyed her sister. She slid under the four-post bed as Emily shuffled around the room. Downstairs a cacophony of destruction thundered throughout the house.

  Emily searched her jewelry boxes, her hope chest and her apron and braced herself as footsteps pounded up the stairs.

  The door exploded into pieces as the pack clawed its way into the room. Howling filled the house as the captain, the alpha wolf, led the charge.

  Her back against the wall, Emily thrust her hand into her apron and ripped out a bunch of purple-colored flowers—wolfsbane. She’d been growing them in the gardens all her life. “My grand pappy did indeed teach me how to deal with your kind!” In her other hand she lifted a Derringer pepper-box revolver.

  The werewolf captain froze in his steps. A howl of rage escaped him as he shrank away from Emily, unable to touch her. James and Robert backed against the doorway, clawing to get out of the room, but the broken door blocked their escape.

  Emily stared the captain down, fury burned in his eyes. He let out a pitiful yelp as Emily fired the revolver. The shot blew a hole in the beast’s chest. It roared in agony, its head twisting from side to side, its ar
ms flailing helplessly until it crashed to the floor.

  Smoke wafted off the lifeless body. The two wolf soldiers looked down at their fallen alpha and roared. The James-wolf’s eyes met Emily’s and they faced-off. The two didn’t budge. James’s claws clicked, his teeth gnashed with drool, but he could not advance on her. Emily held the wolfsbane high and tight.

  Suddenly the Robert-wolf sniffed at the air. He eyed the bed and bolted to the other side of the room. He leapt on top of the bed and jumped up and down until the posts toppled and the bed collapsed.

  Rebecca screamed and struggled beneath.

  “No! Rebecca!” Emily stood her ground, unsure of what to do. She kept her revolver aimed at James while watching Robert drag Rebecca from the under the bed. It tore her up inside to watch the last of her sisters enter the clutches of the beast.

  Emily turned back to James. He snarled at her once then turned to glare at Robert. James barked at him, but he continued his attack. Rebecca squirmed and shrieked as the werewolf lifted her from the ground.

  The James-wolf tore itself away from Emily and lunged for Robert. The two collided in a thunderous crash as Rebecca tumbled to the floor.

  “Rebecca to me!” Emily called and the young girl crawled across the room as the two wolves clashed, biting and clawing at each other’s throats.

  James and Robert battered each other around the room. Blood spattered the walls, clumps of fur filled the air until the two crashed through the window to the ground below.

  The two girls screamed and the house went silent. Emily checked on Rebecca, who seemed unharmed and wiped the tears from her face. Emily put down the wolfsbane and made her way slowly to the window.

  Down below she saw Robert in human form, glass and wood protruding from his naked body, his throat shredded like paper. James was nowhere in sight. In the distance she heard a faint, lonely howl.

  * * *

  In the dead of night Emily had her dream again. She ran from the men with their knives and guns. She raced on all fours, and leapt through the treetops. They were gaining on her. Rain fell cold onto her body. Her hair matted to her face. Her blood boiled and her body burned as if with fever but this time the dream finally became clear.

 

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