That made some sense to Brad, but he was skeptical. It was the wolf tracks that didn’t fit. Those enormous, obviously deformed wolf tracks in the barn. He’d never seen anything like it in all of his life, a life lived right here in these mountains. A bear killed Kyle and then, right in the middle of the action, a huge mutant wolf comes in and feeds on the already-dead horse carcasses? He found that very hard to believe.
The conversation was beginning to unnerve Elmert, who was no longer excited about this case and wondered why his two companions acted as if they had no reason at all to fear for themselves. After all, whatever did the killing, whether it was a Grizzly or some wolf or even both, was still out there. And now so were they. He kept his thoughts to himself, though as he had not been in the good graces of his superior officer and saw this expedition as a means of proving himself. He swore that he would think before speaking and would not say or do anything that would bring scorn.
Brad focused on his animals as they tracked. They occasionally had to stop and redouble their efforts. A lot of snow had fallen since their target had been on this trail and it made things difficult. Before they had been on the trail an hour’s time, Brad commanded his dogs to halt. The constable wanted to know why, but Brad had hushed him. The night was absolutely silent…except for the distant rifle shots that eluded their human ears, and later the flares that they failed to see.
Another hour passed. The moon was lowering on the horizon and they could no longer see more than perhaps five yards in any direction, though they could make out the edges of the mountainous terrain on the horizon.
* * * * *
The Beast had been moving in the direction of the Other when he caught a new scent on the chilled night air. He had lived for so long, though he had no real conception of time, that both his instincts and the thoughts of his human counterpart often came together to give him more focus…more meaning…more understanding. Images of dogs and humans flashed before his mind’s eye as he held his snout high in the air in his search for the Other. These humans he smelled were hunting. He understood and felt a strange anxiety, almost a panic—a need to protect himself, though he did not understand from what. He realized that these new humans were not a physical threat, no humans ever really were, but a conflicting feeling of fear shot through him. They were too close and their smell was different. Unlike the Other, who was much younger and unskilled, the Beast was able to form more coherent thoughts and had a better sense of what he was to do in order to protect himself. The Other believed himself to be invincible, but the Beast knew that their kind had weaknesses.
He would have to kill these humans and he understood that. What he did not understand was the pang of sorrow and the lack of joy or excitement. A conflict that ran through him and he was puzzled now. It was the Other causing the conflict, he knew. He understood that what was happening to him, whatever change was occurring, it was the fault of the Other. He was tired of resisting the urge to kill the Other. His first instincts were to destroy any predator within his territory, but whatever conscious portion of his human side that remained when he was the Beast had somehow stifled that need to destroy the Other. He despised the human…the human that he was whenever the Beast slept. He didn’t understand that he was also human. He didn’t quite understand that he changed into the Beast from a weak human form, but with time the human side meshed with the mind of the Beast, confusing him as their thoughts, feelings, and sometimes even memories intertwined. He suddenly became furious that it was interfering. Anger welled up in him and he focused that anger on the humans he now detected…and on the Other. The Other was the reason that he had need to fear for his own territory. He pushed hard in his mind, forcing everything else to the back of his dim and hazy thoughts…everything else was pushed away except the feel and smell and sounds of the Other. He would have to destroy these humans and then he would hunt for the Other. Not to push him away from the Beast’s territory, but to kill. Again, he felt an unfamiliar sorrow, but as he stared at the bright orb hanging low in the night sky, the sorrow left him. Doubt left him. There was no more conflict.
* * * * *
Daniel was dreaming about Idaho, a beautiful lake with water so blue it was other-worldly, yet clear enough to see all the way to the bottom. In his dream he was a boy again, swimming with friends on a warm, summer day. In the water, on the sandy lake bed six feet below, something caught his eye. It was a rock. The rock was white, and about the size of his hand, oval in shape, perhaps limestone. He dove for it, bringing it up to the surface. Without a word to his friends, he swam for shore until he was in water shallow enough for him to stand up. He turned the rock over in his hand; looking for what had caught his eye…something had been carved into the stone.
The deep etchings were almost filled with sand so he placed the rock under the surface and rubbed the lines clean, rubbing them with his fingers. Perhaps one of his own people had carved this rock. Perhaps it was ancient. He brought it up again to look closer at the image. He stared, fascinated. The carving was not crude, just the opposite, it was magnificent, appearing as though it had been etched with modern tools…or maybe even by a machine. A breeze, cool to his wet shoulders caused him to shiver. The carving was the head of a wolf, angled to the side, and its teeth were bared as if ready to attack. He called his friends over, and they were jealous of the find. One of the boys, a cousin named Strong, named because he had fought against coming into this world from his mother’s womb, said it was a cursed stone and that he should throw it away…but Daniel knew that his sly cousin just wanted it for himself.
The dream shifted now. He was back at his home with his grandfather. Daniel’s father had died in the Viet Nam war, leaving him in the care of his mother and his grandfather. Daniel came to the kitchen table and set the rock down. He had it wrapped in a small towel, and asked the old and wrinkled man to close his eyes until he was ready to show him what he had found. Grandfather Haleky Coahoma grumbled, but did as he asked, and Daniel slowly unwrapped the stone and had his grandfather to open his eyes to see what he’d brought back from the lake.
The stunned look on his grandfather’s face made Daniel happy at first, having so clearly surprised him…but then Daniel frowned, as the look on the old man’s face suddenly twisted into obvious fear and perhaps even loathing.
“Turn it over,” his grandfather cried. “Do it, boy!”
Daniel, shocked and scared, turned it over and then stared at his grandfather, speechless.
“Put it back in the towel, Daniel,” grandfather Coahoma said through clenched teeth. He took a deep breath and then smiled. “It’s okay, boy, but you must take it back where you found it, telling no one, and you must do it before the next night of the moon.”
Daniel had tears welling up in his eyes, now, partly because of the way his grandfather spoke to him, but more because he knew he’d upset him. But Daniel was also sad and just a bit angry that he would have to take it back. He was about to protest, but grandfather Coahoma cut him off. “This is a curse, son. It is a long-dead curse that plagued our people for generation upon generation. I have even forgotten the words for what it is, but I know the sign.” Seeing that he had frightened his grandson, Haleky forced himself to soften his words and his eyes.
“It is a bad omen, grandson. You said you found it in the lake…and there you must return it, and you mustn’t let anyone know. Was it truly you who found it? No other?”
Daniel sniffed. “I found it. Just me…but I showed some of my friends.”
Haleky nodded. His friends would be fine.
“We will speak no more about it.” He saw the puzzled and hurt look on Daniel’s face. “I promise to tell you more some other time. For now, you must do as I tell you. Keep it hidden until tomorrow and then take it back where you found it. Remember, it must be returned before the next moon.”
Daniel sniffed again, but held back the tears. “I will, grandfather. I promise.”
With that, Haleky reached over and tussled the
boy’s hair. As he did so, a sad feeling came over him…he hoped his grandson would be safe.
The dream shifted again. This time it was the middle of the night, days before Daniel was to join the Army, just as his father had before him. There had been a celebration and going-away party, and Daniel had finally collapsed into bed…more than a little drunk. Someone shook him violently and he heard wailing. He woke to see his grandfather’s face looming over him in the glow of the moonlight that shone through his window.
“What have you done?” He shouted.
Daniel sat up, his head almost crashing into his grandfather’s face.
“What have you done, boy?” Haleky wailed again.
“What are you talking about?” he asked but his voice trailed off when he saw what his grandfather held in front of his face. It was the stone with the wolf’s head carving.
“He will come for you!” Haleky cried. “He will come for you and he will have you! I only hope that he kills you!”
Those words froze Daniel’s heart. He choked but before he could say anything in protest, the old man leaped back with surprising agility, standing up and looming over Daniel, who was sitting up now, shocked and staring.
“If you return to this family, he will follow you and he will kill us all.”
Daniel saw tears in the old man’s face.
“Who….what are you talking about? Are you drunk again?” The old man had been drinking more than usual of late.
“I am taking this back to the lake. It is not yet a night of the full moon, so maybe there is a chance for you if I take it back.”
“Grandfather…”
“No! Do not speak to me again! You made a promise! It was sacred to me! It was sacred to this family! I told you what must do!”
With those last words, Daniel’s mother had come to the door. Haleky shook with rage and threw his head back and screamed some garbled, unintelligible words.
The scream was real…but it was not his grandfather, and Daniel was not a boy. He woke in the dark, a dim glow around him, pressure against his legs and chest. The scream came from Jenny, who was on her knees to his right and staring at her hands through the light of the moon and the dim glow of a flashlight that lay somewhere inside the wreckage. Jenny’s hands were covered in blood. She screamed again.
Daniel wanted to help her, to see where she was wounded, but he was pinned. He struggled and managed to move some of the debris from atop him. He twisted his body, trying to get his bearings. He remembered what had happened and realized that the helicopter had gone over the cliff. Jenny sobbed now, her hands on her knees as she choked on the tears.
“Help me, Jen,” Daniel pleaded. At first he thought she would ignore him, but a moment later she reached for him. With her help, he finally freed himself, but with the struggle came new and ever-growing pain. The moment he realized that he was injured, the pain became heightened, and its intensity grew with each new movement.
“My leg…my shin. I think it’s broken.”
Jenny said nothing, still crying softly, wiping her eyes with the backs of her wrists.
“That thing…is it…”
“It’s gone. I think, anyway.” She said as she finally looked at him. He struggled to sit beside her on the mangled and twisted frame of one of the cabin benches. “Steven is dead. Oh, my God, please help me…he’s really dead.”
Daniel did not know what to say, so he said nothing. He wanted to ask how it happened, but he could see a portion of the body and understood it must have happened when the helicopter fell and crashed into the canyon.
“Jack?” He asked.
She chuckled sarcastically. “The dog is fine. Wouldn’t you know it? The dog doesn’t have a scratch, and my husband is dead.”
“I’m so, so sorry, Jen.” He was, but he didn’t think that he conveyed it well enough. “Are you sure that he…”
“His head...” she stammered, silencing him. “It’s…it’s…”
“Shhhhh,” he whispered. “That’s enough.” He put an arm around her and she reluctantly allowed it.
“I don’t know what to say except that he’d want you to be safe. And we’ve got to get ready in case that thing comes back. We need to find my rifle and the handgun.”
She didn’t move, so he held her a moment longer, trying to control himself against the unbearable pain coming from his leg.
“I’ve got them both…and the flare-gun and first-aide kit,” Jenny finally replied.
Daniel sighed, relieved.
“That thing was a…was some kind of wolf…” Jenny whispered.
The word brought back the dream, which brought the memories back to him. The dream had been a perfect replay of real events from his life, and he shivered at the thought. He will come for you, his grandfather had said. You are cursed, and he will come for you.
Jenny used three small sections of aluminum tubing, that had once been bench-legs, and some duct tape from the helicopter’s now scattered toolbox to splint Daniel’s leg. He had groaned through gritted teeth several times, but had kept still while she worked. The break was very bad, and she had felt bone pushing outward against his skin. He would need real medical assistance, and fast.
When she finished, she climbed back to the starboard door of the aircraft, which was now angled skyward and above their heads, and she looked for signs of Jack…or the creature. She had the rifle with her and she knew very well how to use it. If the thing came back, she would kill it. She stayed there for a long time, the cold wind completely numbing her face, but she saw nothing.
Together, they had covered Steven’s body and said a prayer for his soul. Daniel worried that Jenny’s quick emotional recovery might indicate that she was going into some sort of shock, but she seemed okay...taking charge of the rifle and guarding the helicopter…assuming a sort of command over Daniel. He was in too much pain and was in too bad a shape to protect anyone, so he was glad for her assertiveness. He admired her. He learned that the first thing she had done after the aircraft went over the cliff and crashed into the rocky canyon was to make her way up through the door and fire the flare gun. Only then had she come back to check on them.
What bothered the two of them most was the pungent and dangerous smell of the jet fuel. They feared that a fuel tank was ruptured. The volatile fuel could ignite easily and Daniel worried that one wrong move could create a spark that would set the helicopter aflame. Jenny worked her way back down to sit beside Daniel where he extended part of the poncho-liner, offering it to her. She gratefully pulled it over her lap. Their adrenaline had slowed and the cold was now something more than just irritating. They could cover themselves but the cold air flowed underneath their legs and behind their backs.
“Still no sign of Jack or…the thing?” Daniel asked.“No,” Jenny said. “I hope Jack has not gone out after it.”
Daniel nodded, hoping the same. “How many flares left?”
“Two.”
“My watch is busted…”“It’s four thirty-ish”
Daniel shivered, wishing that the sun would come sooner.
“I’ll sit for a few minutes, and then take another half-hour up top.” Jenny said. “But it seems that the thing has decided to leave us alone.”
“I know I hit it…more than once. I hope the damn thing died after pushing us over.”
They had agreed not to speculate on the origin of the creature, but the thought of it having the strength to push the two and a half ton aircraft over the cliff, after having been shot at point blank range, furthered the case for it being anything but a wolf or even a bear. Daniel recalled the boyhood events that had returned in his dream…and he recalled his grandfather’s frantic words.
It will come for you.
* * * * *
“It’s Jack,” Thomas exclaimed as he halted and knelt into the snow. Jack jumped up, placing paws on Thomas’s and licking wildly at his face. Thomas pulled him close.
“No time,” Delmar said. “We’re almost there.”
/> Thomas nodded, then stood up and called Jack to follow as he and Delmar took off at a slow jog once more. They were at the clearing within half an hour and when they broke through the trees they stopped, staring in disbelief.
“How the fuck did they take off?” Delmar asked.
“They couldn’t have. No way,” Thomas answered.
Jack broke away from the two men and ran to where the helicopter had last sat. He spun in circles, wooing and barking.
Thomas and Delmar ran forward to the dog.
“Look at that,” Thomas said, pointing to a large, black mixed into the snow. “Is that hydraulic fluid? It’s everywhere.”
Delmar kneeled and considered turning on his flashlight. The moon had settled almost onto the horizon, but its soft glow still allowed them to make out obstacles and shapes…but not color.
“Shine a clear lens on that,” Delmar said.
Thomas nodded and twisted his light so that it shined on the largest blotch in the snow.
“It’s blood. It’s blacker than it’s supposed to be…but it is definitely blood.”
“Shit,” Thomas whispered.
Delmar said nothing. He looked around for other signs, then took his own flashlight and shined it all around the area. “Look,” he said, “you can’t tell over there because the snow is all scratched around and moved…but look here. There are tracks here.”
Thomas went to Delmar and looked. The tracks were undefined in the snow but they were huge.
“Must’ve been a bear. A big son of a gun.”
“Maybe they killed it…..but how did they fly out. It’s just not possible. Could they have been lifted out and we not see it?”
Beneath a Winter Moon Page 19