Animal Behavior and Other Tales of Lycanthropy (5 page)

She grabbed the metallic toaster off the counter and studied her facial features. She looked identical to the baby’s mother except for her golden-yellow eyes.

“It can’t be,” she said, looking down at the floor where the baby’s mother had been moments before.
Our desire to be the best mother possible united us in spirit
, she thought.
It’s the only explanation outside of a higher power
. She looked to the heavens and mouthed “Thank you,” just in case.

The baby stopped screaming and looked at her with curious wonderment. She reached for the child as the baby extended its arms toward her.

She picked her up and cradled her to her naked bosom and it felt like heaven.

“No need to worry any more. Mamma’s here.”

* * * *

Crouched behind one of the few intact tombstones of Jefferson County’s cemetery, Adam Corne followed the movement of his prey. It stopped and looked toward the crescent moon. He had learned the hard way which legends were true, and the cycle of the moon had no bearing on the wolf. With the creature in his sights, he fired. The bullet penetrated its hide, but slightly off target. It howled in pain and collapsed to the ground.

Gotta be fast
, he thought.
Can’t believe I missed the heart. A mistake like that could cost me my life.

He reloaded his shotgun as he ran toward the fallen beast. From this distance he saw the transformation was reversing, but the werewolf was still alive. An oversight he aimed to rectify.

By the time he reached his prey it was in its human disguise. The bullet hole in the center of her cleavage was no longer bleeding, the healing flesh pushing the silver bullet out of the wound.

My first female. I’d think her beautiful if I didn’t know she was a monster. No . . . snap out of it. She’s already healing.

“You’re making a mistake.” The woman coughed blood onto her bare breasts.

She’s stalling
. He aimed his double-barrel shotgun at her heart. “The only mistake I made was not adjusting for the wind.” He pulled the trigger, leaving a crater in her chest.

The moonlight refracted off the mushroomed backside of the silver bullet wedged in her heart. He pulled two more silver bullets out of his pocket, reloaded and waited for a moment with unblinking eyes.

It’s done.
He looked around.
Not the strangest place I’ve found your kind in
.

Since the loss of his daughter, Adam had hunted the supernatural beasts. There was nowhere he wasn’t willing to travel. From the dilapidated church in New Mexico and the abandoned coalmine in Texas to this Wisconsin cemetery, no place was safe for the creatures.

They’ll all pay
.

A twig snapped in the distance and he whirled around, shotgun at the ready.

Another one?
“Who’s out there?”

No reply.

He waited for a moment; his eyes scanned the forest’s edge. There was no sign of a threat, but there was the faint scent of sulfur in the air.
It’s nothing. Just a woodland animal is all.

Lowering the shotgun, he left the woman’s carcass to rot, and walked back to his van. His wife had always pestered him to sell the customized Chevy, afraid it made “hooking up” too easy. As if he’d ever cheat on his beloved. Now with it being the only thing he had left in this world, he was grateful he never gave in. It was his home away from home.

I’m sorry, honey. I’d give anything to hear your nagging voice once more. I would. Maybe I should go see you, but it breaks my heart every time.

Once inside, he caught sight of himself in the rearview mirror. He tilted it upward, disgusted by the dark circles under his eyes, his chubby cheeks, and scruffy beard.

No time to keep up appearances.

He opened his glove compartment and pulled out his journal and pen. He struck a check mark through the Wisconsin section and flipped through the pages.

If there aren’t any strong leads, I’ll go see Betty. That’s what I’ll do.

He kept all his notes on werewolves inside the leather-bound book. The free internet and old newspapers stashed away at local libraries provided him with valuable information like the names of people who claimed to have seen a werewolf, with dates and times of recorded sightings and their locations. The book was divided into forty-eight sections, one for each state in the mainland.

He thumbed through the information and focused on one section.
Looks like Georgia wins out. Next time, Betty.

In the last ten years Talbot County had three sightings and numerous reports of slaughtered sheep from local farmers. Though he knew the sheep could rationally be explained by roaming wolves, there was a recent report of a farmer shooting such a creature in the hand. That alone wasn’t enough, but added with another from a medical examiner of a man who was found naked and unconscious on the side of the road with a missing hand picked up by a Good Samaritan, and Adam had enough to warrant an investigation. The report stated the man brought the John Doe to the ER and that he later disappeared after the wound was cauterized and put in a recovery room.

Could be a waste of time. Even if it is a werewolf, it could be long gone by now. Still . . .

The engine roared to life. He put the gear in reverse and backed down the gravel road that led to the cemetery. Once there was room for him to turn around, he made a three-point turn and headed for the interstate.

As he made his way toward Georgia, sleep beckoned him. He needed a distraction. The van was the only vehicle on the road at 2:00 a.m., reminding him of where he should be right now—bed. The window was down and the radio blasted, but despite his efforts, the yawns came on more frequently.

I’d kill for a cigarette right now. Guess I’ll have to pull over. I’ll never make it.

He drove for a little longer, hoping for a rest area. He hadn’t come across a sign indicating one and was about to pull over when he saw the side road leading to a brick building.

My lucky day. Either the sign’s down or I briefly nodded off.

Happy he made it, he parked the van close to the building under the lights. He got out to use the facilities and upon seeing the vending machines in front of the building, his stomach growled.

“All right,” he said, “I suppose we can have a snack before bed.”

The vending machines offered coffee, soda, and a wide variety of junk food. Since making the choice to live on the road his diet consisted of high fructose corn syrup, ungodly amounts of sodium, and carcinogens. The only thing he cared about these days was revenge. With his wife in a fear-induced catatonic state, he had no one to impress and relied on the saturated fats and sugars to push his body to the limits. Time was of the essence and took priority. If his body broke down afterward because of the crappy diet, so be it. Too many trails had gone cold on him and he’d do whatever it took to slay the beast that stole his wife from him.

After relieving himself he grabbed some cream-filled pastries and a bottle of water, then locked himself inside the van. He ate. With his hunger appeased, he crawled under the blanket on the bed in the back and closed his eyes.

I should at least call her. See if there’s any change.

Feeling guilty, he fished out his cell phone and selected the nursing home she’d been transferred to.

An attendant answered on the third ring. “Forest Hills Nursing Facility, how may I help you?”

“Hello. I’m calling to check on my wife, Betty Corne. Has there been any change?”

“No, sir. I’m afraid there’s been no change.”

“She’s still just sitting there staring out into nothing?”

“Yes, sir. All we can do is keep her comfortable.”

“Does the doctor have anything new to say?”

“No. Without knowing the catalyst that put your wife into such a shock, there’s little he can do.”

“All right. Thank you for your time.”

“Sir, if I may. If you were here every day by her side, her chances would be much better.”

“Well, I thank you for your candor, but I’m doing exactly what she needs. Good night.”

He hung up the phone and tossed it to the edge of the bed, then laid his head on his pillow. The doctor had thought if he could recreate the fear that put her into shock it may snap her out of it. But after every kill, the beasts transformed, and capturing a live one was too great a risk for him, his wife, and the nursing staff.

Is the world even ready for the truth? Look how Betty reacted
.

His thoughts lingered on the night that changed his life. It seemed like forever ago when he was just a civil engineer working for the State of New Jersey and taking his family on a summer camping trip. When he was a boy his grandfather had built the log cabin in Pennsylvania about a half hour’s drive from the state line. He had visited that cabin at least twice a year each year of his life and had nothing but fond memories. Now it was the source of nightmares.

Betty and him were sitting on the floor by the fire, playing a game of Monopoly, when a scratch on the outside wall caused them to jump.

“What was that?” his wife asked.

“I don’t know. Probably just an animal looking for some garbage.”

They returned their attention to the game and as Betty rolled the die, another scratch startled them, this one going across the full length of the wall.

“I’ll check it out.”

“Daddy, don’t go,” Julia, their daughter, said.

“I’ll be just a minute.”

When he reached the door, it buckled off its hinges and crashed on him, pinning him from the waist down. On top of the door was the largest wolf he’d ever seen. It stepped closer then pressed its massive paws down on his chest, forcing his breath from his body. It lowered its head toward him; gooey saliva dripped from its fangs and splashed on his cheek. The beast was black as midnight save for the smoky-gray mane. He stared into its yellow eyes and saw nothing but hatred. The beast broke eye contact, raised its head and roared.

His wife moaned.

Adam didn’t care about himself; he had already made peace with the fact he was going to die right here in this compromising position, but he needed to buy his girls time. He looked to his beloved wife and daughter. Betty stood there frozen with terror, her curly black hair now streaked with white. Julia had her by the arm, tugging on her and begging her to run with her.

“Run, sweetheart, run!” Adam screamed.

“I’m not leaving.”

“You have to!”

His daughter obeyed and left her mother’s side. She ran toward the back door and the beast gave chase. He tried to grab the beast’s paw, but it proved too quick and his fingers pinched nothing but air. The monster ran passed his wife as if she wasn’t even there.

“Leave her alone!”

With a grunt, he pushed the door off him, his legs racked with pain, but he muscled through it. Julia needed him to be strong. He grabbed the shotgun from over the mantle and followed the creature. Outside, his daughter’s screams and the beast’s snarls echoed in the night.

“Hold on, honey, I’m coming!”

He ran in the direction of the scream, but it was difficult to pinpoint her exact location. His heart thundered in his chest; his pulse raced.

Please, God, not my little girl. Why did it leave me and Betty alone?

He stopped for a moment. This deep into the woods everything looked the same. He listened. Everything was quiet. Too quiet.

“Julia! Julia!”

The silence was broken by the sound of teeth grinding on bone and wet, slurping sounds.

Adam shoved the memory back, not wanting to see the carnage that had befallen his little girl. Even months later, the image of his child disemboweled and partially eaten haunted him; he suspected it would until he breathed his last. He had failed to protect those most precious to him and the one responsible for slaughtering his daughter and sending his wife into limbo was still out there.

How many families has it destroyed? All because you let it get away.

He didn’t understand why the beast left him and his wife alive to witness the brutality, and he secretly wished it had spared him this misery, this guilt, and doubt. One thing was for certain: he looked forward to torturing the information out of the animal. The trick would be to have enough silver on hand to prolong its agony, for as long as silver remained in the beasts’ flesh they remained as their human counterpart.

Eventually his body gave in to fatigue and he drifted off to sleep thinking of happier times in the hopes of eluding the nightmares that plagued him.

His sleep was restless, but free of torment. When dawn broke, he climbed back into the driver’s seat and carried on his way. He stopped only to grab a quick bite and to relieve himself.

He drove all day and well into the night before he reached the Georgia State line.

It’s just a matter of driving through Harris and then I’ll be in Talbot. Might as well keep going
, he thought, then polished off his can of Red Bull.

His eyelids grew heavy as he continued to drive and in the midst of a yawn he caught sight of an object in his peripheral crossing the road in midair. The sight of the charred, humanoid figure floating in the air on large bat-like wings sent a jolt through his gut. Veins of orange pulsed across its naked body as if its blood was molten lava. Embers danced from the corners of the thing’s eyes. Mesmerized by the mysterious creature, Adam’s reaction time was off and the van drove straight into it. The smell of brimstone filled his nostrils as the body crashed into the windshield.

That smell . . . just like at the cemetery. I’m losing control.

The van swerved to the right and fell into the embankment. Adam’s head slammed into the steering wheel and blood flowed from his busted forehead. Sparkles of light danced in his vision as unconsciousness threatened to take him. The creature’s wings flapped feverishly as it tried to dislodge itself from the glass.