Beneath a Winter Moon (27 page)

Delmar saw where Thomas was going with this and knew that it was not only a good argument, but also as an honest assessment. If a rogue, or maybe even deranged, grizzly hit them while they were moving through the storm in the dark, it could be very bad, indeed.

“Jen, we will be a lot safer in a warm shelter where we can unload our gear and set up a watch,” Delmar argued.

Jenny shook her head but did not argue the point. The truth was that she could not stand the thought of the sun going down, no matter where they were so long as they were stuck on this mountain with…whatever
it
was. She closed her eyes tightly as a gust of wind hit the overhang just right, bringing a short burst of stinging snow with it.

“It will be okay, Jenny.”

They all turned at hearing the new voice over the howling winds. They had laid Daniel in a space farthest under the rocky overhang to have the most protection from the wind and snow. He managed a smile that didn’t quite hide his pain. “I’ll be okay and in the morning when this storm is over, we’ll get the hell out of here.”

Jenny unzipped her sleeping back and threw down the poncho liner. She started kicking her way from the mummy-shaped bag and looked up to see her companion’s puzzled looks. “Let’s go then. Let’s get out of this snow.”

They hurriedly repacked the gear just well enough to get it strapped on their shoulders and within minutes, they were inside the cavern. Thomas gathered up several of the snap-lights from their backpacks and placed them on the walls, snapping each one open and shaking it to mix the chemicals held in the small plastic tubes. The snap-lights glowed green, yellow, and orange, and produced enough light for the companions to see what they were doing.

“Good idea, Hero,” Delmar said.

“I do have one on occasion.”

Jenny remained quiet as she went about making sure Daniel was comfortable and then laid out her sleeping bag…which Thomas had insisted she take for her own before they began their journey from the wreckage.

It was decided that they would take turns on watch, two sleeping and one on watch, for two-hour intervals until morning. Thomas and Delmar quietly agreed that they would split up Jenny’s watch between them after succumbing to her insistence that she also be given a turn. “She has to get some rest,” Thomas had whispered. “Aside from Steven’s death, she is really shook up. Last night scared her pretty bad.”

“Would’ve scared me, too…the way she and Daniel described what attacked them.”

Thomas had shaken his head. “Let’s not go there right now.”

Thomas and Delmar sawed off pine and fur branches until they had a large pile and then used some of the parachute cord that they always carried with them to tie the branches together until they had framed and filled a large covering for the cavern’s entrance. The cord was thin, lightweight, and tested to hold up to 550lbs and was forever known to soldiers as “five-fifty-cord.”

“That should do it,” Delmar said as he tied down the final stray spruce limb on the large homemade door. The makeshift door would keep out the wind and snow and allow the cavern to hold whatever warmth they could glean from it.

Inside the cabin, near the far wall was a large pile of deadfall that had accumulated through what had been a rather large hole in the cavern’s ceiling. The limbs and twigs were aged and dry, and would burn well in a fire. Delmar took one of the long poles from Daniel’s litter and prodded a small hole through the formerly large one in the ceiling, creating an outlet for smoke. They would experiment with a fire and see if the smoke would be drawn to the small hole. If it was, then they could build a fire to cook and keep the cavern warm.

Jenny gathered stones from inside the cavern and formed a small hearth. She piled on wood for a small fire. She wanted to make the fire much larger, but Thomas convinced her that their small outlet for smoke would not be enough for a large blaze…if it worked at all.

While they were outside gathering the spruce limbs in the dark, Thomas and Delmar had discussed Jenny and her state of mind. They had decided without much debate that she had every right to be angry, hurt, and mad at the whole world…or even mad at them for leaving her and her wounded husband with Daniel when they could have stayed. They also decided that the idea the animal that had attacked them in the helicopter might come back was not too far-fetched, and thus they had opted to keep watch through the night.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Jeremiah cursed with rage as he walked through the snowstorm. He didn’t need a compass or the sunlight or even a flashlight in order to help him reach his destination. He had been there hundreds of times before.
All I wanted to do was to pack my things and get away from here,
the tall man who’d once been called Alastair thought, furious with himself. No, that wasn’t right. All he
had
wanted was to live out here in these magnificent mountains, away from populated areas, almost away from people altogether. Here he had been at peace and had used the silence and serenity of the cold, unpopulated mountains to calm the beast that was inside him. The beast that
he
was.

It was that damned poaching sonofabitch
, he thought to himself.
No, that isn’t quite right either
. Sure, Jeff Parker was indeed a poaching bastard, he and that rotgut businessman who fancied he could be a hunter if he had a few dollars to hand out…but it was not Jeff, or his poaching client who had made the
real
wrong decision. Jeremiah had offered Jeff Parker a chance to embrace or turn away virtual immortality…the only price being Jeff’s soul, of course. Jeremiah wasn’t even sure of
that
part, either. Surely, they had souls, still. Surely the man that he was…most of the time, anyway…had a soul. But still, Jeff Parker had lay there on the verge of death, albeit a temporary one as he would have risen to become a werewolf regardless…and Jeremiah had asked him to choose. To choose either death, which he would kindly give to him…a permanent death, a real death…or life as a two-hearted thing, a beast by the light of the full moon (and other nights if he so chose) and a healthy, radiant, vibrant, nearly immortal man by the light of day. Jeff had not answered, and so, Jeremiah had put away the silver dagger. He took the man
and wolf
in.
That was my real fucking mistake
, Jeremiah thought as he reached his destination and began pulling down the snow-covered tarpaulin from the massive set of steel bars.

The bars were actually six-inch steel pipes, the steel being half an inch thick. The pipes jutted from the snow covered ground to tower ten feet high in the form of a giant “A.” The steel pipes were rooted in the ground, buried five feet deep with concrete anchors holding them forever in place. There were two sets—with bracing pipes that connected the two a-frames together in the shape of an upside down “V.” The thing reminded Jeremiah of the frames that shade-tree mechanics used to pull engines from automobiles but the resemblance was coincidental. He had an architect draw up the plans and build the contraption. The man had questioned what it was for…but Jeremiah had paid him well to close his mouth do the work. The end result was a huge apparatus strong enough to hold and elephant in place.

Jeremiah was angry, and he held hatred in his heart for the weak and foolish Parker, wishing he had sliced the man’s head from his shoulders on the morning that he found him.
Well, in a way, I finally did…did I not?
He thought to himself. The
werewolf
had done that for Jeremiah, and since Jeremiah
was
the werewolf—it had indeed been by his own hand, relatively speaking of course. He could not recall everything that happened when he was in wolf form but through the long years, there were more and more residual images left over from a night’s adventure. The images were not unlike memories, allowing him to create a fairly accurate picture of what he had done.

Jeremiah prided himself in his
goodness
. Though he could never truly answer as to whether he still had a soul, he could still be a good man. After all, he came here to these mountains as a means of protecting society more than anything else. Though deep inside he knew a big part of the reason he came here was that, sooner or later he would be caught, perhaps on a murderous rampage through the heart of a city, camcorders and photographs capturing his every horrible action. Which, of course, would ultimately lead a mob of angry villagers to his doorstep; silver bullets, axes, gasoline and matches abound, just like in the movies. He prided himself for his
caring
nature, but in the end, it was really a matter of self-preservation.

If only I had one of these in the old days
, he thought as he stepped up on the wooden platform, and began to take off his clothes. The platform was about six inches off the ground, built in the center of the two a-frames and v-bar. The platform was covered in a foot of snow, so he slid his feet back and forth like a broom. Once most of the snow was out of his way, he began to remove the shoes. On the nights of the
full
moon, (and if Jeremiah felt or knew that humans were anywhere near), he would use this framed contraption to hold the beast in check. Though for the past year it had mostly been used by Jeff.
The damned uncontrollable
Sasanak
!
Jeremiah laughed out loud at his use of the old Scottish word for stranger...or…an unwanted guest.

It was completely dark now, and the moon was neither full nor visible in this snowstorm. Nevertheless, for the first time in a century, Jeremiah knew that he would be unable stop the transformation. He also knew that there were other human souls out here. He knew because he
felt
them. Such a thing had never before happened to him, and he was almost tempted to let the wolf have its night just to learn why the wolfish senses were overtaking him in the very light of day. He felt the others presence, smelled them, and knew they were not so very far away.
It’s not their fault
, he thought to himself as he removed his socks and stood on the icy platform.
Just one of them was causing this to happen,
he knew.
One wounded man among their group.

In the evening, well before the sun began its downward spiral on the horizon, Jeremiah became aware of a nearby presence. He had tried to ignore the sensory overload that came with the feeling…he was preparing to leave. He
must
leave. Jeremiah packed for a long journey on foot…deciding what paperwork to pack, what weapons to carry…and he was finalizing the best route to the lake when he was overcome by a hunger that manifested itself along with the strong sense of presence of that one man. It was a feeling of incredible longing and need, an almost uncontrollable hunger that was so intense that later, he thought he would change into the beast during the light of day…something unheard of.

Dizzy and drawn, he had left the cabin with nothing but the clothes on his back. The need had reached its zenith an hour later as he neared the group, and he was sure that he would change if he moved closer. He could not tell who the people on his land were, but he knew that his lupine senses were taking over because he was so close.

He could breathe the man’s scent and it made Jeremiah swoon. He could smell blood from the man’s wounds and that made his saliva run and his teeth ache with longing. He had been so enamored that he had lost control and fallen to his knees in the snow. For a brief moment, he smelled another animal, a predator, and during that one moment of caution, Jeremiah found enough of himself to regain control. He must turn and leave, he knew. If he allowed this to happen, he might well wake up tomorrow to find that his land was swarming with authorities. He
had
to leave before the storm abated and rescue personnel could get to his land. Thankfully, his need for self-preservation had won the struggle and though he was weak, shaky, and dizzy, he fought back the urge to transform and hunt down this one man. He ran through the storm and back to his cabin.

As the sun waned, he realized that he would transform into the werewolf no matter what he did. There was only one thing for him to do, and that was to lock up the beast so that he could do no harm. In the morning, he would run.

Jeremiah stood on the platform and removed the rest of his clothes, oblivious to the cold. The transformation was coming, and soon. He no longer felt the ice and snow and instead felt the nearly unbearable heat as his body tried to resist the coming change. He shackled his legs, closing the locking pins, and then looped his arms through two large, permanently sealed metal rings, then slipped each wrist into the specially-made shackles. He looped the heavy chain down through large eyelets on the bottom of the shackles, evened the chains out, the same way a child might ensure their shoe strings were both of equal length before tying the knot. He brought his shackled and chained hands together and steadied himself long enough to slip the six-inch wide combination chain lock over the excess lengths of chain, maneuvering the heavy box upward until it was pressed against the shackles, where he snapped the box into the locked position. The lock was military-grade, a heavy push-button combination lock that simply locked into place over the chains when closed…only coming free when the correct combination was entered. Although he could still move his legs slightly, and his hands were together in front of him, the upper arm rings combined with the wrist shackles rendered him almost useless.

Minutes later, the snowfall resumed near whiteout conditions, the short respite was over. The winds blew strong again, ushering the wall of white across the mountains. Jeremiah did not notice, however…because
Jeremiah
was no longer there.

* * * * *

Thomas took the first watch about an hour after dark. He sat just outside the cavern entrance wrapped in a poncho and liner to help him stay warm against the icy wind and snow. With him were his rifle with its starlight scope and around his neck hung the ANPVS-7 night vision goggles. Jack lay down at Thomas’s feet, curled his snout under his tail, eyes heavy, oblivious to the elements. Thomas had let the dog come outside with him, believing he would soon want to go back into the cavern and cozy up to Jenny after a short time, but it appeared that Jack was settling in.

Thomas sat on a small, portable hunting stool that he had carried along in his backpack. It was an ingenious device, two sets of u-shaped, telescopic poles connected at their centers, with small straps of nylon webbing attached that, once unfolded, became a small but comfortable seat. He pulled his military-style K-Bar knife from its sheath and slammed it sideways into the tree in front of him. The knife would make the perfect rifle rest, holding the weight of the rifle and its heavy starlight scope. He took turns observing the forest through the starlight scope, occasionally switching to the night vision goggles. Visibility was murky at best and often the snowfall became so heavy that the night vision devices were rendered useless.

Inside the cavern, Daniel was snug and asleep after being given the third serret…only three remained and the meaning was not lost on them. When the serrets were gone, Daniel’s pain would be excruciating. Just before the drugs took hold, Daniel began a stream of apologies for slowing them all down. Jenny and Delmar both tried to quiet him and free him of any guilt, but Daniel became emotional and muttered again that he hated they were hampered by having to drag him around the wilderness when they could have already made it to safety by now. Delmar had affectionately told him to shut his cakehole. A few minutes later the medicine took effect and Daniel slipped back into a deep sleep.

Delmar and Thomas did get a fire lit just after dark and they rearranged the sleeping bags around it. The smoke drifted slowly to the makeshift hole in the cavern’s ceiling and they quickly learned how much wood was enough, and how too much would leave smoke lingering in their midst. The flames were welcomed by them all, especially Jenny. Delmar designated himself cook, and promptly doled out a can of tuna to each, along with a power bar. Jenny took the extra step of setting up the flashlight that had been salvaged from aircraft safety kit on the floor between her sleeping bag and the entrance. The bright light pointed skyward and the effect was to give the room a much brighter glow than the snap-lights had managed. Delmar raised an eyebrow and Jenny explained that she wanted to ensure that the only path in or out of the cavern was well lit. Delmar wanted to talk more with Jenny, but the only conversation that he had managed was about his rifle. She insisted that she be allowed to keep it. Delmar thought that he should keep it on him at all times, as he was the obvious choice should its use be necessary, but Jenny had given a look, and he had quickly relented, trading it for the handgun that Jenny had in her cargo pocket. She settled in, zipping her sleeping bag up and closing her eyes. Delmar admired that she could even make the attempt to sleep, as he stared at the fire, his thoughts drifting. He finally leaned over on top of his sleeping bag and drifted into a restless sleep.