Skinshift

by Lisa von Biela

  Dex writhed in the sand, but could not free himself, could not defend himself. His face had turned chalk-white with terror and his struggles twisted his broken forearm in a way that had to be excruciating.

  Dominic felt no sympathy. Instead, his rage only grew within him, consuming him like fire. He slammed the driver-side door shut, plunging them all into darkness. Then he knelt in the sand and willed himself to assume the form of the coyote.

  Once more, he felt the change in his muscles, in his frame, how it compacted and tightened into a lean killing creature. His night vision returned, allowing him to watch Dex’s face contort in shock and fear as he witnessed the transformation from his vulnerable position in the sand. Dominic treasured every iota of misery he could inflict and observe. Dex would regret to his very core what he had done to him.

  Once transformed, he stood, low to the ground, a menacing growl building deep in his chest and escaping through his bared fangs. Dex’s eyes widened with terror and he tried to inchworm away, but between his bonds and the shifting sand, he only succeeded in digging himself in and forcing the shattered bone out of his forearm and through his sleeve. His eyes rolled up in his head as he passed out.

  Dominic approached, head low to the ground, snarling and snapping. The smell of blood drove him into a frenzy as he leaped onto Dex and began tearing at his flesh, began bathing in the flow of warm blood. He let it wash over him, matting his fur down and overwhelming him with its delicious coppery scent.

  24

  Annie wished she’d paid more attention when she and Paul had last camped out here together—or that she’d brought a map or something more than just her apparently incomplete memory. She really thought she’d remember enough to direct Gail with no problem. Though she’d tried to sound confident at that last turn, she wasn’t at all sure she’d given Gail the right directions.

  “Does this look at all familiar to you?” Anger gave Gail’s words hard, sharp edges.

  Annie squirmed in her seat. She had no idea, and Gail’s anger—however justified—made it even harder for her to think. Darkness cloaked what few familiar sights there might be in the mostly empty desert terrain. It didn’t help that all the secondary roads were gravel trails that looked and felt pretty much the same—and scrub brush didn’t make for the most definitive landmarks. She didn’t know how to answer Gail, didn’t know what to do.

  “Well? Are we just getting more lost?”

  Annie checked her cell again, just in case, but found not the least bit of signal. Something unpleasant squirmed in the pit of her stomach. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, I thought I would be able to tell, but in the dark—”

  “Shit, you mean we’re lost here?” Gail slowed down, but kept the car moving forward as she hunched over the steering wheel.

  Annie dug into her bag, grateful for one bit of forethought. She closed her hand on the item she was hunting for. Her stomach felt a little better, even though it was probably from a false sense of security.

  “What are you doing?”

  Not sure how Gail would react, Annie chose her words carefully. “I brought…protection.”

  Gail groaned. “Yeah, well, that’s not helping find our way, is it?”

  “Oh. Not that kind. I have a gun.”

  “What?” Gail swerved and then cut the wheel the other way to keep the car on the trail.

  “Don’t worry, I have a permit and I’ve taken training. It’s been getting a little scary near campus lately with some armed robberies, so I’ve been carrying.”

  “Well, I suppose that’s something, but it’s still not helping us find our way.”

  Annie stared down in her lap. “You’re right on that. I wonder if we should just turn around and cut our losses.”

  “What the hell?” Gail stomped on the brakes, bringing the car to a sliding stop in the loose gravel.

  “What?” Annie snapped her head up and saw what Gail had seen: a car stopped in the road up ahead. Her hand tightened on her gun.

  Gail leaned forward, closer to the windshield, and peered out. “Could be someone camping or who knows where the campsite is from here.”

  “Could be.” Annie wondered what other explanation there might be and whether she was right to be as scared as she was. Maybe it was someone camping. Maybe it was someone who had gotten as lost as them and decided to stop. Or had car trouble. Maybe they at least had a GPS or something. She tried to convince herself that someone wanting to trap a victim couldn’t have picked a more unlikely road to encounter anyone.

  “Let’s check it out—carefully. Get my flashlight out of the glove box. I’ll leave the engine running, just in case.”

  Annie rummaged through the glove box and found a hefty black metal flashlight that could easily double as a cudgel. She handed it to Gail.

  Gail opened her door and stepped out, then flicked on the flashlight and trained the beam on the ground in front of her. Annie got out, took off the safety, and held her gun out of sight behind her. She and Gail walked together, sharing the light of the flashlight as they cautiously approached the parked car.

  25

  Paul Putnam glanced over at Evan Kelliher. Even in the dim flicker of the campfire, he could see Evan was worried. In fact, so was he. He checked his watch. If they’d left when they said they would, Annie and Gail should have arrived by now. But then again, both of them were famous for getting sidetracked and running behind. He took a sip of his beer and tried to tell himself they had simply left later than planned.

  Evan cleared his throat and shifted in his camp chair. “Does Annie know the way? I know Gail doesn’t have a clue how to get here.”

  “We’ve been out here a few times. But come to think of it, I’ve always been the one driving. They were coming in Gail’s car, right? Does she have GPS?”

  Evan sighed and stared down into the fire. “No. She keeps talking about trading in that old heap and getting one with some bells and whistles, but she hasn’t done it yet.”

  Paul loved the campsite for its austere desert beauty and its isolation—it was never crowded, even on holiday weekends. But now he regretted its dearth of cell reception. If only he could just call or text Annie, surely he’d find out that everything was okay and they were worrying for nothing. He checked his watch again, only to find the time had hardly changed since he last looked.

  “Well, you know they always run behind.” Somehow he couldn’t convince himself that was the explanation this time. A bad feeling began to gnaw at him.

  “I know, but this seems way too long.” Evan pulled out his cell and checked it. “Damn. Nothing.”

  Paul didn’t even bother checking his cell. “There’s nothing we can do from here. I’m going to try to find the ranger station and see what they can do.”

  Evan rose. “Good idea. Let’s go.”

  Paul held up his hand, palm out. “No, sorry. Someone needs to stay here.” He jerked his thumb at the campfire. “Can’t leave that unattended, and besides, what if they show up while I’m gone? You need to stay here and wait.”

  Evan sat back down in his camp chair and made an uncomfortable face as he glanced around in the darkness. “Oh, great. No phone, no car, no nothing.”

  “What else do you suggest? Even if we put out the fire, someone should be here if they show.”

  Shoulders slumped, Evan stared down at the ground. “You’re right. I just don’t like the idea of staying here alone and not being able to reach you or anyone—or drive out myself if there were an emergency.”

  “I hear ya. Do you want to wait a little longer?”

  Evan waved him on. “No. The sooner you get help, the better. I have a bad feeling.” He gazed into the fire. “I’ll hold the fort. Hurry back, though.”

  “I will.” Paul grabbed his flashlight and headed for his Jeep, wishing they had done the carbon-unfriendly thing and brought multiple cars. Who knew this would happen, though? He started the engine, turned back toward the road, and hoped he could find the ranger station in t
he dark—and that there was someone there who could help.

  26

  Gail tried to hold the flashlight steady despite her trembling hand. As a paramedic, she was used to tense and often dangerous situations in the city. But somehow there was more structure to those situations—patterns she could discern and deal with. Not like here in the desert at night, with little more than blackness around her.

  She swept the beam from side to side, just to make sure there was nothing lurking on the way to the parked vehicle ahead. Something caught her eye, something that could not be real. She directed the beam toward it on her left.

  “What is it?” Annie whispered as if they were in a library.

  “I—” The flashlight quaked in her hand, causing shadows to jitter and dance. “What is that?” Gail froze and gawked at the display before her. She ran the light up and down the Joshua tree festooned with animal skulls. Animal skulls that glowed greenish in the darkness.

  Annie gasped. “Who would do something like that? And why?”

  Gail forced herself to step forward for a better look. “They all have dates. Recent dates.”

  Annie held her gun at her side in a white-knuckle grip as she stood close to Gail. “I don’t like this at all. Let’s just turn around and head back.”

  “I wonder if these have anything to do with whoever owns the car.” Gail glanced to the right, at the red reflections of the car’s taillight lenses in her headlights, and swung the flashlight’s beam in an arc as she did. Her light picked out something on the ground just off to the side of the trail, nearer the vehicle. “What the hell is that?”

  *

  Disturbed by the light, Dominic stopped chewing on the meaty portion of Dex’s thigh and looked up, blood smeared on his face and front legs and dripping from his jaws. He pricked his ears forward and sniffed as his eyes adjusted to the flickering glare.

  Two women. They’d found his shrine and were now looking in his direction. He had been so consumed with feeding on Dex, he hadn’t noticed them until now. Rage combined with a sudden animal drive to defend his territory and his meal. His muscles tensed, then he burst forward, leaping over Dex’s mangled corpse and sprinting toward the women.

  He closed the distance in an instant, before they had a chance to react in any useful way. Maddened by the blinding light, he leapt upon the one with the light, knocking her to the ground. She flailed at him, trying to hit him with the flashlight. He dodged her blows and struggled for a chance to tear out her throat.

  *

  It happened so fast, Annie stood rooted to the ground for several moments, at first unable to react at all. From out of the darkness, a savage, growling, snapping creature had simply appeared and had Gail pinned to the ground, fighting for her life.

  Annie broke out of her spell, then stepped back so quickly she stumbled in the shifting sand and fell onto her ass. She crab-shuffled a little farther back, grateful that the beast wasn’t paying her any attention.

  Letting instinct and training take over, she stayed down and drew her knees up in front of her. She clutched the gun in both hands and rested the grip atop her knees to steady herself. She knew she would only get one shot. If she missed, the thing would likely turn on her. She had to make it count.

  Annie drew in a deep breath and tried to simultaneously relax and tense her body as she had learned in her shooting lessons. She blinked and opened her eyes, training them on the scene before her, trying to see what she needed to despite the constant movement of the flashlight. She wished she could make everything freeze for just a moment…but she knew she’d have to pick a shot and do her best.

  She slowly let out the breath she had been holding, took one more and held it. Her finger tightened on the trigger. She fired, the sound mingling with Gail’s scream.

  27

  Paul was glad he’d been through the area enough times to know his way reasonably well, or else he’d have been completely screwed by now. The moonless night was no help in picking out the subtle signposts he would usually recognize. Relying only on his headlights made progress slower than he wanted.

  After a half hour or so of bumping along on the poorly maintained, pitted and rocky trail, he spotted the small sign at the side of the road that led to the satellite ranger station. He hoped someone was there tonight, so he wouldn’t have to take the additional time to get to the central ranger station.

  He made his turn and proceeded up the even less well-maintained road that led to the station. A row of Joshua trees obscured the low building. He continued, relieved to see light in the windows and a ranger truck parked off to the side. He pulled up and stopped the Jeep, then jumped out and went up to the door.

  Paul pressed the buzzer and held his breath while he waited. It wasn’t that late yet, but it was past business hours and this was just a satellite station. They likely weren’t expecting someone to just drop by.

  An eye appeared in the peephole, then the door opened several inches.

  “What is it?” The tone was wary, but not forbidding.

  “Hi, um, we’re camping back down the road and our girlfriends were due to join us hours ago. We’re getting worried, and of course our cells don’t work out here.” Paul hoped he didn’t sound like a fool, creating an emergency situation over girlfriends who, truth be told, were often tardy. But they really could have gotten lost, especially if they left after dark.

  The door opened. The ranger, a tall, gangly man who could have passed for a young Dennis Weaver, stepped back, motioned Paul to come inside, then shot him a puzzled look. “Where is the ‘we’?”

  “Oh, Evan is Gail’s boyfriend. He’s back at the camp in case they show up there.”

  “I see. So when did you expect them?”

  “Well, we didn’t set a precise time, but best we can tell from when they planned to leave, they’re probably a good two hours late.” He hoped they hadn’t changed their plans and left voice mails on his and Evan’s cells that they wouldn’t see until they went back into town.

  “Well, sir, that’s not exactly sufficient for a missing-persons report, but out here, that’s a good enough chunk of time to be worried.” The ranger sat down at his desk and pulled out a notepad. “Are they together, d’ya think? Same car?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure they drove together in Gail’s car. I think it’s an old Camry.”

  “License plate?

  Paul shook his head. “No idea, sorry.”

  “How’s the car equipped? Any GPS?”

  “No, Evan says it’s pretty old. None of that, and I don’t think she had a dash-mounted one, either.”

  The ranger sighed. “There are a lot of little roads back here. One wrong turn, and you can get more and more lost pretty fast. How are they fixed for food and water?”

  Again Paul shook his head. “I really don’t know. We brought most of the stuff, figuring they would just join us. So I’m not sure what they would have had with them—or if they even brought anything other than their bags.”

  “Okay. Give me their names and descriptions, and I’ll radio for help looking for them.”

  Paul gave him the information, then asked, “What should I do?”

  “You go on back to camp and wait there. Which one are you at?”

  “Devil’s Garden, up back that way.” Paul waved his arm in the general direction of their campsite.

  The ranger stood and came around his desk toward Paul. “All right. Head on back now and I’ll get things moving on this end. I’ll check in with you later. My name’s Ranger Tyson, Gerald Tyson.” He extended his hand.

  Paul shook his hand. “Thanks. I really appreciate this.”

  He let himself out as the ranger started broadcasting the information on his radio, then got into his Jeep. He slammed his hand on the steering wheel, angry with himself for not insisting they all go together instead of risking something like this happening. This could have been avoided so easily. He always made nasty remarks about people in the news who had to be bailed out of their
own stupidity, and now here he had to go for help because of a dumbass, preventable situation.

  Paul started the engine, backed out, and spun his tires briefly in the sand as he rushed back to camp, feeling helpless and embarrassed.

  28

  Gail screamed again and again, both in pain and terror. She hoisted her torso up with her left arm and tried to drag herself out from under the burden that lay upon her. Her right arm, clipped by Annie’s bullet, seeped blood and couldn’t bear weight.

  She glanced to her right, where Annie sat frozen in the beam of the headlights, the gun still propped on her knees. Her eyes looked wide and glassy. Gail herself was fighting off shock with nothing more than sheer force of will. Her right arm burned and throbbed—now she knew firsthand what gunshot victims experienced.

  But it was the sight of what stubbornly lay on top of her and weighed her down that was the worst. She glanced at it again, and began to doubt her own sanity.

  A coyote had jumped her, crashing onto her without warning from out of the dark. And she’d fought it, tried to smash its head with the heavy flashlight, but it moved so fast. So fast. The fight was a terrifying blur. Then Annie had fired her gun and everything changed.

  Gail finally struggled out from under the corpse and sat up, panting. The heavy corpse of a man, shot dead by Annie. No coyote now, but a man. She glanced again at Annie and could tell from the look in her eyes that they had both seen the same thing.

  She picked up the flashlight and examined her wounds. The bullet had clipped her bicep. The bleeding could be worse, but it still needed immediate attention. The rest of the damage had come from the coyote: various lacerations from its teeth, mostly on her forearms. Nothing terribly deep.

  Gail clenched the flashlight in her left hand and let her right arm hang slack as she crawled over to Annie on her knees and her left elbow. Annie turned to her, opened her mouth to speak, then shut it without saying a word. Trembling all over, she dropped her gun onto the sand as if it were on fire and wrapped her arms around her knees.