The Darkly Stewart Mysteries: The Woman Who Tasted Death

by DG Wood

  “And don’t tell me, for her penance, the good werewolves of Wolf Woods chased her down and ate her.”

  Darkly still wasn’t buying the morbid fairy tale.

  “No, Darkly, that’s not what happened at all. I can take you to see her, to see your mother, if you like.”

  At that moment, Gus regained consciousness.

  Darkly and Buck set out on the two-day trek. They began on the river, down which they would paddle for half a day, then hike for another day and a half to reach Catharine’s home.

  Catharine, Buck explained, had not been banished by the town. She banished herself. She had spent the whole of her adult life looking for a cure for lupinism, only to produce an outcome worthy of the Nazi doctor, Mengele. She could not face the parents whose children would grow up to be lunatics and cripples. She had failed to save her husband, her daughter, and the children of Wolf Woods. She wanted to live a self-enforced isolation, where she would cause no harm to anyone ever again.

  Darkly had decided to embrace the explanations until they were disproved. She could not dispel what she had witnessed in the diner. So, she found herself paddling into the wilderness with a redneck sheriff in search of her mother, a werewolf, whom she had not seen in almost two decades and could barely remember other than in flashes of daydreams.

  Darkly stopped paddling. Not because her arms were tired, but because something didn’t make sense.

  “Why Trey and me? Why are we spared?

  She felt her moon pendant, reminding herself that the necklace she never took off was still there.

  Buck stopped paddling.

  “Well, this is as good a time as any for a break,” he said, lifting an oar out of the water and into the canoe. “Darkly Stewart, you are a descendant of the first werewolf.”

  “You have an answer for everything. That’s what we call a bullshit artist in the outside world.”

  “It’s true, Darkly. Not the bullshit bit. The first werewolf part. When Nebudchanezzar was exiled to the wilderness, he mated with wolves while he was in wolf form himself. The Darklys, your mother’s clan, are direct descendants of those children.”

  “How does that make me special?”

  “We don’t know. The Reverend says because God forgave Nebudchanezzar and lifted his curse, and the Darklys are closer to him by blood.”

  “Maybe we’re a little closer to salvation?”

  “Who knows, Darkly?”

  Darkly lifted the pendant off her skin.

  “And if I remove the necklace, I will turn?”

  “I don’t know that either.”

  Darkly let the pendant fall back onto its resting place.

  “It could be you’ve worn that thing so long, you really have found salvation.”

  Buck picked up his oar and slid it back into the water.

  “So the rest of you are just the product of peasants raped by a werewolf? And I’m your queen?”

  Buck laughed.

  “Something like that.”

  Darkly slid her oar back into the water, and both began to paddle again. But, once again, Darkly stopped.

  “Oh my God. Trey and Victoria are half brother and sister. And you’re letting them—”

  Buck didn’t miss a beat in rowing when he interrupted Darkly.

  “No, I’m not and, no, they’re not.”

  “According to you, your brother raped my mother,” Darkly said, begging to differ most emphatically.

  “And I made him pay for that. But, your brother is your full brother. Wyatt is not his father. Although, only a few people know that. With werewolves, Darkly,” Buck went on to explain, “the Alpha remains Alpha until he is challenged by the son who is to become Alpha or dies childless. With Wyatt banished, his son becomes the Alpha-to-be, and I became the caretaker until he is ready to assume his responsibility. If the whole town knew Trey was not of my blood, not Wyatt’s son, the whole system would be thrown into chaos, and the position of Alpha would be up for grabs.”

  “Ah, you mean democracy,” Darkly stabbed Buck with her wit.

  “No, Darkly. I mean many wolves dead and families torn apart as an entire community questions where their loyalties lie.”

  Darkly and Buck paddled in silence the rest of the way. Upon reaching an outcrop of rock early in the afternoon, Buck directed the canoe to a small inlet in the river.

  They pulled the canoe fully up onto the river bank, grabbed their backpacks, and began hiking up a mountainside. Darkly allowed herself to think of her dad, William, the man who raised her. She had not been gone long enough for him to begin worrying. But, if he knew where she was, surely a little bit of him would be envious of the adventure she was undertaking into the bush, with only the stars above her and virgin ground below.

  In Wolf Woods, Geraldine had been let out to return to her daughter and diner. Gus, having regained consciousness, left her off-the-hook for the most part. Such was the law in a small town where the labors of even one person are sorely missed.

  When it came to lunch, she really was the town cafeteria. The townsfolk all had their gardens and knew how to can their vegetables for winter, but it was Geraldine’s place where they connected over her biscuits and rabbit stew. This was where people pretended they were like everyone else on the planet.

  Just like in a restaurant in New York City, Geraldine would present the bill at the end of the meal. Only, instead of numbers, a small chalkboard slate would list ingredients requested in lieu of monetary payment. Customers would return later that day or the next day with a basket of peppers or eggs or a leg of lamb.

  Last year, Martha Bowie dug up a gallon jug filled with salt, planted in her back garden by her grandmother a decade before for safe keeping. Martha ate at the diner free for a month.

  In the diner tonight, while Darkly was away searching for answers and Gus was lying in bed wondering if he’d ever be able to walk again, the film cast and crew were paired off in booths and at tables, where they were expected to get to know better the young women they selected.

  Selected is a gross exaggeration. Reverend MacIntyre, Doc Ross, and Buck had consulted on where there seemed to be the most potential for happy unions and then instructed the chosen girls to be present for their first date tonight at The Moon River Diner.

  Geraldine, Victoria, and Trey had done the place up nice. Every other light bulb had been removed from the ceiling to create mood lighting. Candles had been placed at all of the tables, and curtains almost forgotten in a box in the attic had been fashioned into table cloths. Geraldine was serving chicken with mushroom sauce. There seemed to always be plenty of chicken available.

  In one booth, Marvin and Jake, the youngest of the men, were listening to twins go on and on about their Uncle Buck’s son, Trey. It was pretty clear Marjorie and Doreen Robertson were looking for replacements for that crush, and they’d both decided Marvin and Jake fit the bill. Though, they repeatedly got Marvin and Jake’s names confused. Whereas, Marvin and Jake never called either twin by anything but their correct name. Fear has a way of concentrating one’s concentration.

  In another booth, Peter was trying to ascertain if his match, a blonde beauty queen type with fluffed up hair from another era, had read a book published since 1963.

  Shane was having to constantly shift his feet, while the mousy girl across from him dipped lower and lower in her chair trying to reach him with hers.

  Behind Shane, Serena sat across from a twelve-year-old girl named Lily, who sat calmly filing her long nails. Lily was Ed’s daughter.

  “You’re very pretty,” said Lily.

  It wasn’t said as a compliment, but as a genuine observation.

  “Thank you,” replied Serena.

  “Are you going to be my new mother?”

  “I…” Serena had no clue how to reply to that.

  “My father likes you,
but says I’m a better judge of what he needs.”

  “That’s a lot of responsibility for you.”

  “I’m used to it.”

  “What happened to your mother?” Serena asked, genuinely curious.

  “She’s dead.”

  Serena was sorry she asked, because now all sorts of horror stories about how that death came about were running through her head.

  “My father thinks you’re too skinny, and that you don’t smile. He says you’d probably make a bad mother.”

  “Does your father always judge people before he gets to know them?”

  “I guess.”

  “Well, I think I’d make a very good mother. I love kids. But, Lily, I have a life somewhere else I really want to get back to. I have a mother who misses me as much as I bet you miss your mother.”

  Great, thought Serena, she’s now explaining through rationalization to a precocious little girl why she should let her go home.

  “I never knew my mother. She died giving birth to me. I was too big.”

  Lily stood up.

  “See? I’m a lot taller than most girls my age.”

  It was true. At twelve, Lily was already a few inches beyond five feet.

  “Well, Lily,” Serena tread carefully, “It’s not your fault your mother died. She wanted you.”

  “It’s my fault,” replied Lily with no sense sorrow. “My father said so.”

  “Your father said that to you?”

  “Yep.”

  Serena reached out to Lily.

  “Oh, sweetheart, no. That’s not true.”

  Geraldine had appeared at their table to clear Lily’s plate away. Serena still hadn’t touched hers. Geraldine joined in on the debate.

  “No, it’s true. Doc Ross could confirm it. Lily was too big for Beatrice’s birth canal. So, ice cream or chocolate cake?”

  Geraldine elongated the word chocolate for Lily’s sake.

  “What is wrong with you?” Serena responded, dumbfounded. Geraldine took Serena’s untouched plate and returned to the kitchen without acknowledging the indignation.

  Then there was Carter. Carter was the only one of the visitors looking forward to tonight. He was told Mary would join him at six o’clock for supper. Her father dropped her off outside the diner at ten minutes past. With her two canes, she made her way the dozen feet to the diner’s door, where Trey, who was bussing that night, got the door for her and pointed her in Carter’s direction.

  Mary Ross was a relation of the Doc’s. Her mind had survived the cure, but her body hadn’t. She would never walk without canes again. As a human, anyway.

  Carter was no more thrilled with being held prisoner by monsters than the rest of the group. They seemed to be relatively benign monsters. Although, no one had satisfactorily explained what happened to Gus. Yet, Carter couldn’t deny the fact that when looking into Mary’s eyes, he saw a soul of beauty, intelligence, and grace shaped by a chosen response to suffering that did not embrace self-pity. He saw a strength he did not have but wished to possess.

  Carter got up to help Mary to her seat. She stopped and flicked her hand.

  “Thank you. I can sit down myself.”

  Mary took a seat and slid her canes under the table. Carter noticed her hands were affected too, by the way she fumbled with her knife to get to the napkin underneath and how she draped it over her lap.

  “Do you eat here often?” Carter asked, nervously.

  “I eat at home.”

  “Of course.”

  “I…” They both spoke at once.

  “Sorry,” conceded Carter. “You first.”

  “I’m not sure why I’m here.”

  “To eat?” Carter lightened the mood.

  Mary smiled in a way that led Carter to believe she was out of practice.

  “I wish you could have seen me first as something else. I’m not as…” she searched for the right word, “...broken when I’m a wolf.”

  “I think you’re perfect just the way you are. Should we order?”

  Across the river, a dozen werewolves circled the abandoned RVs and vehicle that once made up the film’s circus before turning their attention to the overlook and the house lights twinkling below.

  The look in Wyatt’s eyes had gone from devil-may-care to crazy. His body was still lean and wiry, though his hair was now pure white.

  “It’s been too long, little brother.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Darkly and Buck ate fish over a fire that night. Buck had the sense to drag a line behind the canoe on their journey. They lost the light and were out the moment their heads hit the ground. They were both tired from the river, and Darkly had to admit she felt safer inside a tent with Buck than on her own. Well, that was as it should be. He knew this territory. She didn’t.

  Darkly woke in the middle of the night and turned to see Buck was missing. She opened the tent flap and looked up at the sky. It was a clear night, and she noticed how the moon’s light caught her pendant.

  “Buck?” Darkly called out to him.

  There was no answer.

  She listened to the babble of the nearby stream. Was he taking care of business? She looked at the moon again. Or was he taking care of other business? Darkly remembered how Buck had looked at Carter in the diner. She wasn’t banking that Buck the wolf would deal with her any differently.

  She tied the tent flaps together tightly. Like that would stop a wolf. Her adrenaline was pumping now. She wouldn’t be able to sleep. Her mind was racing. What if this was the plan all along? Was this some sort of test? Would Darkly be confronted by a type of danger that would finally make her rip off the moon pendant and become what God intended her to be?

  Darkly laid awake thinking every sound outside the tent was made for her benefit.

  Morning found Darkly groggy. She woke to the sound of a crackling fire. At least she knew Buck was back. She emerged from the tent and found a small pot on the coals of the fire. It contained water with roots floating in it. Tea? She poured some into a cup and sipped. She was expecting a bitter experience and got something entirely different. A bit earthy, but it seemed to perk her up.

  Where was Buck? She decided to make her way down to the stream. Maybe he was getting more water. She walked across the slope of the heavily wooded mountainside, occasionally slipping, then climbing, a few paces to remain on a straight path. Darkly arrived at the carved out track that rushed water down to the valley below to join the river that ran through Wolf Woods.

  She found Buck. He was washing in the stream, rinsing clumps of dirt out of his hair in frantic motions. In fact, all of his body was covered in dirt. He was also naked.

  “Did you bring my clothes?” Buck yelled to her through the water he was pouring over his hair and face.

  Darkly, surprised, turned around. This was not something she found easy to do. What’s more, she sensed Buck knew she was drawn to him.

  “Sorry,” she half spoke, half whispered.

  “I thought you’d be asleep for a while longer. I thought I had time to get dressed.”

  “I understand. Why are you so dirty?”

  “I traveled pretty far last night. I picked up the scent of a wolf pack. It’s a little hard, in that state, not to follow them. We’re territorial creatures.”

  “I’ll just go get your clothes.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  Buck had to admit to himself, he was loosening up thanks to Darkly.

  A fully clothed Buck and Darkly sat around the fire finishing their tea.

  “What is this root?” Darkly asked.

  “You know, I don’t really know. I dug it up and ate it once as a wolf, so I know it’s not poisonous. As a man, I like it better in tea.”

  Darkly put her tea down. She didn’t think she would end up finishing it.
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  “You said you smelled a wolf pack last night. How do they react to you?”

  “They can tell I’m different in some way. That I don’t belong. So, they just avoid me. There’s rarely a confrontation between us and them.”

  “Different in what way?”

  “The best way I can describe it is, say you meet someone from a different country who doesn’t speak any English. You both look similar, but there is definitely a block to communicating.”

  “Did you chase them off?”

  “No, they made their way through here a few days ago. I was following their residual scent.”

  Buck downed the rest of his tea.

  “I recognized my brother’s scent actually. We should make a move.”

  Buck pulled one of the tent stakes out of the ground.

  “Wait,” Darkly said. “Wyatt? You smelled the man who killed my father?”

  “I’ve caught his scent before this far out. He grew up hunting in these woods. I expect him to return from time to time.”

  Buck finished pulling the stakes out of the ground and was now rolling up the tent.

  “The strange thing is, he’s always alone. This time, I smelled other wolves with him.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I guess that he’s lonely. Anyway, the scent was heading away from Wolf Woods. That’s all I care about.”

  Darkly and Buck lifted their packs over their shoulders and resumed their trek up the slope.

  Wyatt had returned to his old hunting grounds six or seven times since he was betrayed by his family. He had picked up his brother’s scent a few times too, while Buck patrolled his precious town. The town that should be Wyatt’s.

  Thanks to Buck, Wyatt had not seen his and Geraldine’s child born. And it was thanks to Buck, that a fucking Darkly still lived. Now, Wyatt was building his own clan. He’d show this town what bad things could happen when their sheriff neglected his duties.