The Beast of Nightfall Lodge

by SA Sidor

  “I don’t know what to make of that,” I said.

  “Viv did some strange talking and put her hand on your head. Then they was whispering and conspiring. Weaving all sorts of witchy schemes. I didn’t know if they were fixing to ride you or cook you in a stew.” McTroy fetched my water pitcher and drank deeply from the spout.

  “You’re accusing Evangeline of witchery?”

  “She’s never hid her interest in the spooky arts. But this was flagrant.”

  “I see.”

  “I can’t say the prospect of a woman being a witch tamps down my interest. Not entirely.”

  “So you are interested in Evangeline… romantically speaking?”

  “I never mentioned romance. Calm yourself. I’m saying the idea, not the doing of it.”

  “Theoretically, you mean?”

  McTroy snapped his fingers and shut one eye tightly. “There you go, Doc. I knew you’d know the word. Theoretically being most of what you do.” The rum-soaking made him turn philosophical. “I don’t rule out witches as acquaintances. That’s all I’m saying. I’d dance with ’em, you know? Walk with ’em by the river in the moonlight. These are fine women we’re talking about here. Friends of ours. Why, think of all we been through with Evangeline. She’s our partner. But I’m not exactly calling for a preacher to marry us in the mornin’.”

  “That is good news.” I meant it sincerely.

  “Oh, they drew something on your forehead with a bowl of blood and a shiny black feather. Might’ve been a crow’s. But I wouldn’t make a big fuss about it.”

  “What?” I searched the room for a mirror. There was none. I tried to see my reflection in the lamp glass. “Is it still there? What does it look like?”

  “Well, lemme see…”

  I craned my neck forward and handed McTroy the lamp.

  “I don’t need that light shoved in my face.” He pushed my hand away.

  “Well… is the sign there? Perhaps you were only dreaming. You’ve been drugged, which is not insignificant. And, as far as I can tell, you are drunker than usual.”

  “Hold still.” He seemed to consider my forehead for a long while.

  “It’s there,” he said.

  “Oh mymymy–”

  “And it’s definitely blood. But so what? Woman paint themselves up to act fancy. Why wouldn’t they fancy you up too? You was like a doll to them. A plaything. They was poking at you. Under the blankets it looked like they might’ve been pouring water on your nether parts.”

  “My nether parts…?”

  “It’s likely harmless. Like plucking a dead chicken. You can’t hurt a dead chicken.”

  I grabbed the washcloth and was about to wipe the bloody mark away.

  McTroy seized my wrist. “Don’t do that. What if it’s important? Even if they’re witches, they’re smart witches. It’s a biddy little thing you wouldn’t even know you had if I didn’t say.”

  “What does the symbol look like?”

  McTroy tried to describe it with no success. He said triangles, then a circled star. When I attested to my confusion, he licked his finger and drew the shape with his spit on the dresser.

  “A pentacle,” I said, sitting back on the pillows, gathering the blankets around me.

  “Is that bad?” McTroy tried the door handle again. It was still locked. He hit the door with his shoulder and knocked the butt of his Colt Army above the keyhole. Nothing happened.

  “I believe so. But, on your suggestion, I will leave it until I know more.”

  “There, that’s the smartest thing you said yet. What’s this I hear about a head in a barrel?”

  I told him everything that had transpired since I last left him.

  “Where’s the rum head at?” he asked when I had finished. “Did you lose it?”

  I shook my head. “Out there. I set it down when I came in. I believe Wu took it for safekeeping. No one else knows its significance.”

  “You think Smoke Eel might be in league with the Beast?”

  “It’s possible. He is certainly showing a degree of deception. I know those torn clothes were in my coat.” I found my luggage and changed into a fresh suit. My boots waited by the door. As I sat to put them on, I remembered another crucial piece of evidence. “Remember the human tracks we found under that tree. The one with the panther scratches etched in the trunk?”

  “The tree where Claude fell,” he said.

  “That’s it. Well, you showed me how those boot prints had an imperfection because there was a rock stuck in the wearer’s boot heel.”

  McTroy nodded. “I noted it.”

  “The tracks Smoke Eel showed me had that exact peculiar marking. It was the same man both at the tree and lurking outside Nightfall Lodge last night.”

  “Claude,” he said.

  “It had to be. That is why I confronted him.”

  “I knew that boy had killer instincts. But how is it that a man changes into a Beast?”

  There came a knocking at our door, followed by the quiet, yet audible, insertion of a key into the lock. The door cracked open a few inches as the person with the key struggled to free it from the old locking mechanism, which likely hadn’t been used in years. McTroy drew his pistol. I remembered then that I had taken the bullets. I searched in vain for my walking stick, but it was not in the bedroom. I put up my fists. McTroy slid behind the creaking, oaken door.

  “You’re up,” Evangeline said brightly. She carried a lit candle.

  “Stay away, witch!” I shouted.

  Evangeline frowned. “Are you ill?” She scanned the room. “Where is McTroy?”

  In that instance, McTroy slammed the door and seized her in a bear hug.

  “Bruja, I have you. Enchant us no more.” He grunted and picked her up.

  At first startled, Evangeline’s expression soon altered.

  “Have you two been drinking?” she asked.

  “He has,” I said.

  She spotted the pistol in McTroy’s hand. “Are you planning to shoot me?”

  “Why? Have you hexed my bullets?” McTroy said, as his arms tightened. He aimed his pistol haphazardly at the wall and pulled the trigger. The hammer clicked on empty chambers.

  “Ow! Let go of me! Or I will cast a spell you won’t soon forget.”

  “You have already. See what you did to my forehead.” I lifted a few stray hairs. “You stripped me and smeared me with… with… magical ointments. I may not be myself anymore.”

  “Hardy, if I could do that I would have done it long before tonight.”

  “See! You admit it!”

  Evangeline shifted her hand, bringing the candle’s flame under McTroy’s hairy wrist.

  “She burns me!” he cried. “The witch burns me.”

  He released her, jumping away and knocking over the chair. His legs tangled with the chair legs and down he went. He fell next to the bed, striking his head remarkably hard on the floor going down and again on the footboard as he attempted to rise. Then he was silent.

  “What brand of wickedness do you wish to inflict upon us?” I said to Evangeline in hushed tones. I stiffened my resolve. “Is it unholy?”

  “Depraved acts and vile things… that’s what I’ll do.”

  She spread her fingers and held them out rigidly. The nails were incongruous pink shells from the depths of some malignant, corrupt sea. Her green agate eyes became the devil’s kaleidoscopes, flashing their enchantments even as they shucked the very soul from my body.

  “Spare us,” I said. “Remember, we were once your friends.”

  “Spare me,” she said, dropping her hand. “Locking you up was a mistake. I told Viv as much. But she thought you needed protection. Now you’ve gone and become mad. It didn’t take very long.” She placed the candle on the dresser. “Is your fever gone?” She touched my cheek.

  Overthrown by her powers, I nodded. “I think so.”

  Evangeline rinsed out the
washcloth and dipped it into the bowl. She began cleaning the symbol from my forehead. “Viv is very worried about what’s been happening. She put this pentagram on you to keep the dark forces from entering your mind.” She tapped me above the eyebrows. My gaze darted into a bare corner. “You have been seeing things? Things other people do not see?” The kindness returned to her face. How could I have suspected her of evil?

  “Yes. And the dog, Orcus, talks to me in my head. Oh, the Beast came to me outside. We spoke as well.”

  She dropped the washcloth in shock.

  “You talked to the Beast? What did it say?”

  “It asked me if I wanted to be its traveling companion. To see things across dimensions.” I opened my arms slowly until they were wide apart. “Dimensions,” I repeated.

  She looked quizzically at me. “The Beast is a changeling. It’s supernatural and more dangerous than any wild predator of the forest. I’m not sure how it got here. But it may not be the only changeling in this house. We have work to do. Is your lunacy finished for tonight?”

  “I think so,” I said, blushing. “Wait, no. I must tell you about the head in the rum barrel and why McTroy is drunk although he has had no spirits to drink.”

  Evangeline sat on the bed, sighing.

  “Continue,” she said.

  After I finished my re-telling of the discovery Wu and I made of the elixir’s secret ingredient, Evangeline eyed me curiously. She picked up the rag from the floor, tossed it in the bowl, and pressed her clenched hands into her dress.

  “Where is the head now?” she asked.

  “I think Wu has it.”

  She nodded and stood.

  “Good. Your news is much to digest. But I have more. Claude has left Nightfall. Oscar refuses to venture out and search for him. I told Cassi and Viv that we will go after him. They are beside themselves with fear for him, and they asked for our help. Claude’s likely heading for Raton. It’s only a few miles.”

  “But the storm…?”

  “Has nearly blown itself out. Claude is on foot. He can’t have traveled far. But I’m afraid he won’t make it down the mountain alive. Weird, sinister forces are aligned here at Nightfall.”

  I thought about the torn clothing I’d found and the prints that likely matched Claude’s. The Beast’s long sinewy arms and its red, red eyes. I saw in my mind’s eye what it did to Billy.

  “What if Claude is the Beast? Smoke Eel was lying. I had a vision. I saw Claude change into a monster.”

  Evangeline sized me up. She dusted my lapels. Snugged my tie.

  “You have had a traumatic evening, Rom. If Claude is the Beast, then we will slay him and claim the reward,” she said. “If he is not, we will bring him home.” Her soft lips parted, revealing her teeth. Will she kiss me? I wondered.

  Evangeline’s eyebrow arched. “Did you say Orcus talks to you?”

  “I did.”

  “You are a strange man, Rom. But I take you at your word.”

  McTroy moaned and sat up.

  “Are you ready for a hunt, Mr McTroy?” she said loudly as she stepped back.

  “I need bullets,” he said. His unruly hair crackled electrically and stood on end as he rubbed the bumps he’d received. Despite a large tear in a seam under the arm of his longjohns, he appeared no worse after his fall. “Can’t kill a damned Beast with only good intentions.”

  “Then I shall remove all hexes from you. Get up and get dressed. We’ll leave at once.”

  Out the door she rushed, taking the candle with her and spilling wax on the threshold.

  22

  The Wendigo Hypothesis

  I LIED TO PROTECT US. I TOLD YOU BE CAREFUL. YOU DIDN’T LISTEN.

  Smoke Eel turned his notebook around and wrote more.

  “I don’t know why you lied. But the fact that you discredited me was no favor,” I said.

  I was bundling myself up for the trek down the mountain road toward Raton. Oscar still refused to accompany us. He was a stubborn, iron-willed man. Those qualities may have served him well in the bush or braving the sweltering slog of a months-long jungle expedition, but it did nothing to help him as a father. Despite his unwillingness to go after his prodigal son personally he was persuaded to aid our efforts. He gave us proper winter gear, including a horse-drawn sledge and a huge red Morgan stallion to pull it. Smoke Eel argued against our going. Oscar quit the discussion, stalking off to the trophy room with his box of Havanas. Now the Indian guide tried to explain away his betrayal of our mutual findings. He tugged at my arm.

  I WILL SHOW OSCAR THE RIPPED CLOTHES. I WILL TELL HIM. BUT NOT THE OTHERS. YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE FIGHTING AGAINST.

  “Well, what is it? I have seen it firsthand. I can tell you it is no grizzly bear, wolf, or wildcat. It is a supernatural being. Much more like a man in its thinking than an animal.”

  He flipped to the next page.

  IT IS A WENDIGO. OJIBWE AND CREE AND OTHER PEOPLE KNOW IT. NOT THE WHITE MAN. IT IS A SACRED CREATURE. EVIL SPIRIT. A MONSTER WHO EATS MEN. IT LIVES IN THE WOODS. BUT SOME MEN CHANGE INTO WENDIGOS TOO.

  “You must tell Oscar. This is his hunt. He’s put everyone in jeopardy,” I said, stunned.

  HE KNOWS.

  “What? How could he? He seemed very skeptical of the supernatural when we arrived.”

  HE KNOWS. HE HIRED AN INDIAN TO CATCH INDIAN MONSTER.

  I considered this. Smoke Eel had lied before. I certainly wasn’t ready to trust him now.

  “Does the Wendigo live here in New Mexico? Is it native to this territory?”

  NO. I DON’T KNOW HOW IT CAME. BUT IT IS HERE.

  “An indigenous monster uncommon to this area suddenly shows up and starts slaughtering hunters. It just so happens that one of the world’s most famous hunters lives on the same mountaintop. And he hires you as an expert and guide. He wants to study the thing and then stuff it just right for a museum. Maybe one with his name over the door? It would be the capstone to his career. But I’m not sure I’m buying what you’re selling, Smoke Eel. Why did he keep this a secret from us? If Oscar knew, then why send us out with incomplete knowledge? We acted at a great disadvantage. This is a competition. Knowing the monster is half the battle. We were almost guaranteed to be killed.”

  The guide looked at me as if I were a greenhorn. He didn’t know whether to pity me or laugh in my face. I’ll admit to a certain degree of naiveté when it comes to treachery.

  THE MAN WHO CAPTURES WENDIGO WILL BE FAMOUS. OSCAR TIRED OF WAITING. ANGRY. HE SAW IT AND NEVER SHOT. WENDIGO TOO SLOW FOR OSCAR.

  “I’ve seen the Beast, and it is not a slow thing.”

  Smoke Eel shook his head in frustration.

  MORE HUNTERS MUST DIE. OSCAR WANTS MORE BLOOD = BIGGER NEWS. WENDIGO LEAVES HUNTING GROUNDS SOON. PRIZE HUNT SPEEDS UP KILLINGS.

  If what Smoke Eel was saying were true then Oscar Adderly was a special kind of bastard. I had too many questions for the Indian guide to answer and no time before we left to rescue Claude from his ill-advised tantrum and solitary hike through the snow-filled canyon into Raton. McTroy had loaded his Colts and Marlin rifle. Evangeline wore a trapper’s hat made of rabbits and she had a bow slung across her chest and a quiver of arrows. Wu put something on the sledge: the rum barrel. I needed to go. And I wasn’t sure anything Smoke Eel told me was going to change the mission we were embarking on. Though now we had a clue what the Beast might be: a legendary creature, a mythical man-eater who roams the woods. The cannibal demon.

  But I had another question.

  “Smoke Eel, might there be more than one Wendigo?”

  ONE WENDIGO. MORE FEEL ITS SPIRIT. TAKE IT INSIDE. ALWAYS HUNGRY.

  “I don’t understand. The Wendigo possesses men?”

  Evangeline called me to the sledge. McTroy and Wu were already on board.

  Smoke Eel was writing frantically. He scratched out a message and started again. Snow fell on the paper. He smeared the writing as
he wrote. The end of his stubby pencil broke, and he threw it down in anger. He tore the last page of the notebook, pressing it in my hands.

  ONE WENDIGO. MANY MAN-WENDIGOS. TOO LONG WITH EVIL MAKES U EVIL. MEN CHANGE TO MONSTERS. EATERS. ALL PART OF SAME. EVIL STAY HERE TO WANDER IS DEATH THE BEAST WILL TRICK YOU MAKEURUNCRAZY STAY!!! NIGHTFALL HUNGER IN THE WOODS FEEDSELFASTFASTDANGERURALLINDANG–

  The Indian was determined to hold us back. His motives were unclear to me. I crumpled the note in my fist.

  “Hardy, we are leaving without you if you do not come now,” Evangeline shouted.

  I walked away from Smoke Eel. The sky had cleared but it was still black night above us. Stars studded the cracks in the clouds like silver flecks in a coal seam. The wind had died. Powdery snow drifted from the treetops. They were heavy-laden, bending earthward. My steps creaked. The air was almost too cold to breathe unless you took small sips or pulled it through a woolen scarf. It was silent. Everything I saw appeared clean-edged, cut from tin. Icicles like wavy glass teeth. My friends were loaded in the sledge; exhalations fogged their faces. The Morgan horse stamped, ready to pull. I turned back to see Smoke Eel shutting the doors to Nightfall. I heard him bar the doors. Viv and Cassi were too upset to watch us leave. They wanted Claude back but feared we might perish. Guilt kept them back. Evangeline said Viv wasn’t speaking to Oscar. Cassi wanted to join us. But her mother forbade her, begging her not to double her sorrow.

  “I cannot lose both my children tonight,” Vivienne had said.

  Cassi remained with her mother.

  Oscar sent Orcus with us to locate Claude a second time in less than a day.

  The sledge had two benches. Evangeline and McTroy took the front. Evangeline sat tall with the reins in her hands. McTroy rested his rifle across his knees. Wu and I climbed into the second seat. Orcus jumped in between us. His furrowed look of concern bothered me.

  “What did Smoke Eel want with you? He was agitated,” Evangeline said.

  “He spoke of Indian legends. Evil spirits. He may be right. But I know for a fact he is also a liar. I hear his arguments with a high degree of mistrust. He would have me doubting my very self.” I stroked the dog’s neck. “We’ll guard the rear. With Orcus on our side, who will dare to challenge us?”