by Michael Dunn
This was too much. This was a real life nightmare you couldn’t wake up from, and you’re only hope is to escape, and he hoped he was fast enough. As a high school track star, army grunt, and also a non-smoker, Gary spent his days as a junior high track coach, and he still had much of the same speed he had in his glory days.
The light from the campfire was dead ahead, and Gary maintained his terror induced sprint. He wiped the sweat from his eyes and kept the campfire in his sight. Every stride got him closer to his truck and far away from this nightmare.
His knees were pumping up and down at chest level like pistons in a racecar revved up at full speed, while his heart was beating against his chest like it was trying to escape. It was hard to tell if he was being chased since he wasn’t about to turn around to find out. He hoped, and it was an awful hope, one he would regret later if he ever got out, that his dead friends were now a drive up restaurant for lycanthropes, which had slowed the wolves down enough for his escape.
The dying campfire was in view now and it was a beautiful sight. Soon, he was only a few yards away from camp, and heard growling behind him. Gary screamed and miraculously ran faster.
Gary ran out of the woods, past the campfire to his ’65 Ford pickup. Trembling badly, Gary fumbled for the keys in his jeans pocket, got it, opened the truck, got in, turned the ignition, shut the door, sped out of there, and never looked back.
In Bestiavir, he stopped at the Keaton house. He honked his horn and the garage door opened as Jack and Ty stepped out. Both had beers in their hands.
“Gary, what the hell happened?” Jack asked coming out of the garage. “My God, you look awful.”
“Oh my God, Jack! You were right! I saw it. I mean, them! You were right, but it’s not one. Oh, no. There were many like legion. Like the Bible said, ‘We are legion and we are many.’”
“Gary, Gary, Gary,” Ty said quietly, like he was trying to calm a hysterical child. “What happened? Where are the others?”
Gary looked into Jack’s eyes and slowly said, “The monsters got them.”
Chapter Thirty-One: Prey
August 5th, 1971
“What the hell is your problem?” JP leaned up against Gard’s truck, drinking beers from Gard’s cooler and reading an Incredible Hulk comic book as Tony worked on the truck from below.
“What do you think my problem is? Tonight, some guy on national TV is going to decide my fate in the coming years, and I have no say in the matter.”
“If you knocked up Suzie, or decided to go to college, you could apply for a deferment.”
Tony slid out from under his father’s truck. He sighed and shook his head. “No… it’s hard enough to impregnate our kind, and, well, I never liked school much.” Tony slid back under the truck.
JP nodded and took a swig of his beer. “You know how in the James Bond movies, 007 plays a seemingly harmless game with a man who is trying to kill him?”
“Yeah?” Tony asked, not sure where this was going.
“Do you ever think that tonight some bureaucratic hack is going to play the deadliest lottery game with us?”
“Aren’t you worried?”
“Me? Naw. They can’t draft me when I’ve already enlisted. I got my papers last week. I leave in October. Don’t look so glum. I scored in the ninety-five percentile on this new ASVAB test they had me take. It’s unlikely I’ll be a grunt. But enough about me. I think you’re nuts man. Why are you getting married?”
JP opened another beer Gard kept in a Styrofoam cooler. “I mean, we just graduated high school a couple months ago. Don’t you think you’re rushing things a bit? You’ve only been dating her for, like, what, almost a year now? Everyone already thinks she has your bun in her oven, pal. Marrying her will only confirm their suspicions.”
“But she’s not pregnant!” Tony said, sliding out from under the truck, and took a moment to cool off. Grease stains lined his face and hands. “She’s like us now, and it makes sense.”
“How does this make sense? And don’t give me that ‘because we’re in love’ crap.”
Tony slid back out from under the truck and stood up. He needed to find a wrench in the toolbox in the bed of the pickup. “That is true, but there’s more to it than that.”
Tony found the wrench he needed and slid back under the truck. “Suzie’s very bright and I’ve taught her a few things to make the changing process easier. You’ve seen her. She’s coming along well in the past two months, and she’s even beginning to remember bits and pieces.”
“That’s good,” JP finished his beer, and tossed the empty can before he snuck another one out of Gard’s cooler, hoping Gard wouldn’t miss them. “Still, how is your marriage going to make this situation more reasonable?”
“Well… mostly to keep us away from the outsiders and to quell our people’s fears, and because she’s here so often, people already think she lives with us.”
“Where are you going to live?”
Tony ignored him. JP kicked the front tire to get his attention, which irked Tony, but he kept his cool.
Tony mumbled something.
“What?”
Tony slid out from under the truck. “I said, ‘I DON’T KNOW!’”
JP mentioned with some concern, “I’m guessing the Naschy trailer since they’re all gone. You really haven’t thought this thing through, have you?”
“It will work out,” Tony said, sighing, with the conviction and optimism only a teenager possesses.
“How?”
“Ih-it just will, you’ll see!”
“Fine, I believe you.” JP waved his hands surrendering and backed off. “So, where were you planning on living once you move out?”
“I don’t know… maybe we will end up in the Naschy’s trailer,” Tony said, obviously not happy with that option. He thought it was a bit ghoulish.
JP asked. “Can you afford it?”
“Yeah, I think so. When the guys at the shop heard I was getting married, I got a twenty-five cent raise, then they spent the rest of the afternoon trying to talk me out of getting married. They said marriage was the quickest way to a slow, painful death, and then they shared some of their horror stories.”
“You could live with her parents,” JP laughed.
Tony laughed too. “Yeah, right. Her dad already hates me, and I don’t want to play ‘Meathead’ to his ‘Archie.’ Then can you imagine having to explain to Jack where his daughter and I go during a full moon?”
“Yeah,” JP laughed. “But what’s he going to do about it?”
2
That evening, Suzie and Dee invited Eunice over to the house to watch the draft lottery on national TV. Eunice came over, and she was as shy, demure, and polite as ever. It wasn’t often she was invited to other people’s homes. Tony was at work and couldn’t get the night off because tomorrow night was the first night of the full moon – automatic night off for him.
Suzie sat between her mother and her future mother-in-law on the couch, holding their hands, her mother on her right and her future mother-in-law on her left holding onto her tightly. Her mother’s hand was sweaty and Eunice’s hand felt like a shaky metal clamp. Suzie’s nose also got a workout, smelling the fear all three had for Tony.
Each woman held their respective breaths simultaneously before each birthday was read aloud on national TV and when the man hesitated now and again, the suspense was almost nerve wracking, and Eunice nearly passed out twice from holding her breath too long.
This lethal lottery reminded Suzie, briefly, of the Shirley Jackson short story, “The Lottery” she had to read in Mr. Richardson’s interesting, if unusually creepy, English class. Her real life and the short story differed in size and scope. She had to read that story in her junior year, a year ago back when the boy whom she was watching this real life horror story unfolding had just been another boy in the hall. What a difference a year makes, Suzie thought.
The women believed they were safe from an interruption from Jack, who
kept himself in the garage, alone and away from them. Suzie and Dee welcomed his absence, because Jack was probably rooting for the draft board as many of the veterans of former wars did, but for Jack it was personal, and he wouldn’t mind seeing Tony come home in a flag draped coffin on the “CBS Evening News.” No sir.
Day one was called. It was July 9th and not even close to Tony’s birthday of November 2nd, but that didn’t mean much in a lottery, there were ninety-four more chances for Tony to be an involuntary servitude soldier. Although chances were very good Tony would be assigned to the motor pool, and might never have to see combat, that wasn’t an acceptable risk for these women.
December 24th, Christmas Eve, was day 002, and an awful Christmas present for anyone born on that day in 1953. The third number, July 25th was called shortly after, and each number called was not good for the nerves of Tony Brandner’s fan club.
With every number called, each woman’s heart skipped a beat. They watched with bated breath, but to a casual observer with nothing at stake, it was no more exhilarating than an average Wednesday night church bingo game. JP’s birthday came up, and he would’ve been selected to go had he not already enlisted.
After 95 birthdays pulled, the remaining 271 days of the year (they counted 366 days, because 1972 was a leap year) were not selected and didn’t have to report for military duty next year. Tony’s birthday was November 2nd, which was number 190. The women on the couch hugged and cried that Tony wouldn’t be called and he was still theirs.
3
Ever since Dee told Jack the news of Suzie’s impending nuptials, the recurring dream about Suzie and her demonic child kept coming back. Jack spent every waking moment not at work in the garage on his new project, and he didn’t think his family missed him all that much. Jack sang along to Bobby Darin’s “Mac the Knife” playing on the radio as he bolted together the seven foot by seven foot steel cage.
Hopefully, it would be strong enough to hold her – it, Jack thought. Otherwise, we’ll all be in a lot of trouble. Jack also purchased a tranquilizer gun and a set of darts in case the Suzie monster got out.
Now, he needed to get his daughter back from those filthy animals. He called Ty from the kitchen phone while Dee was in the living room reading. Jack didn’t want to bother her, let alone talk to her, so he talked with his back toward the living room in case she was snooping. He would still take care of Suzie, no matter what she was or what she had become she was still his little girl.
Since he could not bring himself to free Suzie of her new “affliction” as he liked to call it, he couldn’t in good conscience let her roam free as a mad killer every month, but there was another alternative and with the trailer park gone, she’ll have to move back home.
The final straw for Jack was when they got his daughter. It was greatly offensive to him Suzie had fallen for one of those trailer trash dogs. Hadn’t we taught her better than that? They were welcome to live in this community, but he sure as hell didn’t want his daughter to marry one.
According to his recurring nightmares, it looked like Suzie may have gotten herself in trouble in “the family way” with one of those literal monsters. What bothered Jack, aside from what his future grandchild would be fathered by a boy Jack desperately wanted to shoot in the heart with a silver bullet, was that Suzie hadn’t told anyone about it, not even her mother. He and Suzie never connected very well since Suzie started high school and that was one of his regrets, but one that would be remedied. He and Suzie would be close again just as they were when she was a little girl.
Ty, and the few other remaining members of the VFW who wanted revenge, were asked to show up. Gary wasn’t going. He and his family took off that same night he barely escaped with his life and didn’t stop until he got to Phoenix. Jack called after Eunice Brandner left the house. The long, springy telephone cord reached from the kitchen to the garage.
Jack explained when Ty answered the phone. “Ty, look we’re going to need a lot more guys. You heard Gary’s story. Of course, I believe him. He was the scout master for his boy’s troop, for God’s sakes. See if you can round up the local bad boys, you know, the ones who are just looking for permission to kill someone. Yeah, but we need them by tomorrow. Yeah, I’ve been calling the Albuquerque VFW for over a month now. A few of those guys are gonna meet me here at the house tomorrow, but I don’t want any of the bad boys anywhere near my house. We’ll meet in the parking lot of the old VFW. You’re a cop, for God’s sakes, you gotta know which guys are just itching for a fight, and if they hate those freaks in the trailer park, the better. Of course, tell them to bring their guns. This isn’t a fucking barbecue. Remember, tomorrow night… because it’s the first night of the full moon, that’s why. Yeah, see you tomorrow night.” Jack hung up the phone and sighed, wiping his eyes under his glasses.
This time wasn’t a wolf hunt. It was a rescue mission. Jack, Ty, and a few other like-minded friends were going to drive to the trailer park and get Suzie Keaton (soon to be Suzie Brandner) and get out. Ty would not just go in there and threaten with the power of the law. Some slick attorney could see right through his bullying. Besides Ty had done that kind of thing before and the D.A. was keeping an eye on him, but tonight was different. However, they could not go during the day. If they went during the day, or a night when the moon wasn’t full, and something happened, it would be mass-murder, plain and simple. If they went at night during a full moon when they changed, then it would be self-defense and to protect New Mexico from the preternatural evil which plagued it.
Chapter Thirty-Two: The Approaching Storm
August 6th, 1971
It was early evening in the werewolf’s garden when Bordeaux was harvesting his crops from the vines or plants. It was a good night to do it, because it might be his last one.
He dreamt of Annabelle again last night, and she was just as beautiful and radiant as ever, with a heavenly glow around her, holding out her hand for him to take. Although hesitant at first, he took her by the hand, and when he did, he was a young man again in his twenties, marveling how quickly the wrinkles from his hands vanished and felt old age leave his body at once.
“It’s almost time,” she said to him. “I’ll be waiting.”
Then he woke up and he knew what day it was - the total lunar eclipse that happens every eighteen years, which coincides with something bad happening to him or the community. It may very well all end tonight, but he couldn’t tell that to the community, because he would sound like one of those mad preachers shouting on those Christian channels. Then again, nothing at all may happen or only happen to him. Either way, he had made the necessary preparations in case something did happen, such as telling Gard he would be in charge of the community if anything should happen to him. Gard didn’t want it, only reluctantly accepting, and Bordeaux understood. He would have liked to have given it to Tony, but the boy was too young, too inexperienced, and others might be resentful making the boy’s job harder. By giving it to Gard, there would be a good chance Tony would inherit from him, but God had a way of laughing at such plans.
In the garden, he was alone, but not alone, because he believed Annabelle was there with him, and so was Joseph “Redman” Whitecloud, and so were his parents and the members of his old community back in France. Bordeaux smelled the storm and it smelled like it had back in April, but now it was above. Like clockwork, every eighteen years, the storm had arrived.
2
When Tony came home from work that day, long before nightfall and the full moon rising, his mother stopped him at the front door.
“After you finished showering, Bordeaux said he would like to talk to you.”
Tony’s stomach twisted for a moment, and he briefly felt cold. “Did he, um, did he say what he wanted?”
Eunice shook her head. “No, but I wouldn’t keep him waiting very long.”
Tony nodded and raced for the shower. He showered, dressed, and headed for Bordeaux’s trailer. There was no answer, so he headed toward the
garden, head down and shuffling his feet and he found the old man quietly singing an old song in French, which Tony didn’t understand. It was Charles Trenet’s “La Mer.”
“Uh, hello, my mom said you wanted to see me. I’m going out with Suzie tonight, but we’ll be…”
“Yes, she’s a good girl,” the old man interrupted while he continued to dig in the soil. “You chose well with that one.”
Tony nodded, who thought his choice was mutual with Suzie. “Um, thanks. I know it’s the total lunar eclipse tonight, but she wants to celebrate that I didn’t get drafted.” Tony scratched the back of his neck. “We’ll be back before we have to… change and all.”
Bordeaux smiled. “Don’t worry about that. Stay out as late as you want to. I trust you.”
“But the change?”
“You’re going to end up in a patch of woods, no?”
Tony looked away, embarrassed, but nodded. He scratched the back of his neck.
“Take care of what needs to be done and watch over Suzie, which I know you will, then come home tomorrow morning.”
“Are you sure?” Tony had always known Bordeaux liked to have his ‘children’ home by curfew.
“It’ll be fine,” the old man said standing up. His knees creaked as he rose, so much so he put his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “I know you’ll do us proud someday. Have fun tonight.” The old man went back to singing Charles Trenet’s “La Mer.”
Tony nodded, walked to his truck, got in, and headed toward Suzie’s home. The song on the radio was Bob Dylan’s “Tomorrow is a Long Time.” He looked out his rear view mirror seeing his community disappear in the distance. It wouldn’t be there when he returned.
3
Ending up at their new, usual spot, Suzie watched as the moon rose over the New Mexico skyline. Tonight was the first night of the full moon, and it was emerging in the sky shining bright yellow. It made the sky a thick, navy blue and the canyons were a dark red.