Ebon Moon

  “So it’s just us ladies, then?”

  Nelda nodded. “Just us.”

  “Girl talk?”

  “Sure.” Nelda settled into the chair across from Jessica.

  “Nel, you’re a lucky woman. You’ve got a good man and a stable home here.” Jessica sipped her coffee. “I can’t seem to find either.”

  “You’re young and pretty. There’s still time to find the right man.”

  “Believe me, I have no luck with men. Every man I’ve ever had ends up being an asshole. I’m about to give up.” Jessica chuckled. “I don’t think there are any good ones left. Look at last night. Some creep follows me out of the bar and tries to assault me. I didn’t even know the guy. That’s the way it’s always been, Nel. I’m a jerk magnet.”

  “You just don’t know how to spot the good ones.” She took a long sip of coffee and asked, “What about the sheriff?”

  “Dale?” Jessica paused for a moment and then added, “He’s handsome, and I feel a strong animal attraction to the man. It’s the way he smells and carries himself, but there’s something else, Nel. I don’t know why, but an internal alarm goes off deep inside when he’s around. Something I can’t put my finger on. Maybe I’m just too paranoid after living with Blake for so long.”

  “You’ve only been here for a few days. Give things a little more time, and don’t jump into anything.”

  “Good advice.”

  Nelda smiled. “You’re right. I am lucky to have a home and a good man. But you’re very lucky, too, Jess. You have something precious that Sam and I can never have.”

  “Megan,” Jessica said, glancing over her shoulder to where her daughter slept in the living room.

  “Precisely.”

  “I am thankful to have her.”

  “You should be. She’s very special.”

  “She is.”

  Outside, a vehicle pulled up in the gravel drive beside the barn. The sound of a truck door shutting came next.

  “Sam’s back.” Nedra put down her cup and rose from the chair to peer out the kitchen window. “It looks like someone followed him home.”

  “Who is it?” Jessica asked.

  “Two teenage boys,” Nedra answered. “Now what’s he up to?”

  * * * *

  Terry Newman closed the door of the F-150 as Sid exited the passenger side. Sam, already out of his truck, removed a hunting rifle from his gun rack in the back window.

  “After last night, I don’t go anywhere without this,” Sam said, shifting the rifle to his arm.

  “I understand,” Terry replied

  “Now listen to me, boys,” Sam stated. “I’ve got two women and a little girl staying on the property. If we start talking about werewolves in the night, they’re going to freak. The little girl has already been scared near to death. Let’s just keep this between us until we get an idea of what we are dealing with here. Okay?”

  “Okay,” he answered, but Sid remained quiet. Terry shoved him in the shoulder. “Did you hear what the man said, dude?”

  “Yeah, I got it.” Sid responded by shrugging and putting his hands in the pockets of the ICP hoodie. “No talking about werewolves to the womenfolk.”

  “Fine,” Sam said. “I’ll take you to the trailer first.”

  As they started their walk around the barn, the back door of the farmhouse opened and an attractive older lady wearing gold-rimmed glasses stepped out on the patio.

  “Sam?” she called out.

  “Yes?”

  “What’s going on?”

  “These boys are doing some work for me. I’m just showing them around.”

  “Oh,” Nelda replied with a perplexed look on her face. “Did you want me to fix breakfast?”

  “That would be fine, dear.”

  “Are your new friends going to be joining us?”

  Sam sighed and turned to Terry and Sid. “You boys want breakfast?”

  “Yeah,” Terry answered.

  “Breakfast would be cool,” Sid piped in.

  “They’d love to,” Sam called back. “Give us a half hour and we’ll be at the table.”

  “All right, then.” The woman retreated into the farmhouse.

  “This way,” Sam said and headed around the back of the barn.

  Following the farmer, Terry walked across a grassy lot leading to a double-wide trailer. Sid kept in step by his side. The sun had risen higher in the eastern sky but the air was still crisp and cold.

  “I’ve been having a problem with something spooking my livestock the last few nights. Monday morning I found my old hunting dog, Rocky, torn apart in the woods bordering the creek over there.” Sam pointed across a freshly plowed field toward a line of trees on the other side. “I also found some strange tracks in the field. Canine prints, by the look of them.”

  “What did you think it was?” Terry asked.

  “I figured I got a couple of coyotes harassing the farm,” Sam replied as he led them around to the back door of the double-wide mobile home. “But it wasn’t coyotes that paid a visit to the trailer last night.”

  Sam stopped and nodded toward the back trailer door. Scratch marks crisscrossed the bottom half of the sheet metal. Terry felt a chill pass through his body.

  “That’s some scary shit,” Sid commented.

  “My sentiments exactly,” Sam replied. “A little girl and my wife were inside when I came by for a visit. I had my rifle with me. While I was here, the little girl opened the back door and screamed. I came running to see what was happening. Something ran off into the darkness, and I shot at it twice. I’m pretty sure I hit it.”

  “What was it?” Terry asked.

  The shadow of fear showed in Sam’s weathered face when he answered. “I think it was the thing in your picture. I didn’t get a real good look at it, but it had the same wolflike fangs and red eyes. One thing for certain, it wasn’t a coyote. The creature was big and moved fast.”

  “Just like a fucking werewolf,” Sid said.

  “Son, I’m beginning to believe you’re right,” Sam replied, and added, “There’s something else I want to show you boys. It’s over across the field in the trees.”

  They trekked across the furrows of the plowed field and into the line of trees. Along the way, Terry filled Sam in about the events of last night, finishing with the death of Mr. Higgins in the ICU. He listened intently, and Terry got the impression he had found an adult who believed him. At the edge of the line of trees bordering the field, they stopped.

  “At dawn’s light, I came here looking for signs of the creature I wounded last night.” Sam propped his rifle against a tree and knelt down on one knee. “The first thing I found was this.”

  He pointed to an object laying in the dead leaves and grass.

  “Binoculars?” Terry asked, confused.

  “That’s right.” Sam nodded. “They weren’t there yesterday because I didn’t see them. Since I found my dog dead back here in these trees, I walk through here every day.”

  “Werewolves don’t use binoculars,” Sid commented. “But their human side can.”

  “It could’ve been dropped by a hunter,” Terry suggested.

  “It’s possible, I guess, though hunters are not allowed on my property without permission and would be trespassing,” Sam said.

  “Who do you think needed binoculars?”

  “Somebody watching the farm.” Sam stood again and motioned for them to follow. They walked for another twenty-five yards deeper into the wooded area until they reached the bank of a creek. Sam pointed to the leaf-covered ground. “Here’s another thing that baffles me.”

  An aluminum baseball bat lay nestled in the undergrowth beneath the trees.

  “A baseball bat?” Sid asked, surprised.

  “That wasn’t here yesterday, either.” Sam picked it up out of the wet leaves.

  “Who would have brought it back here?” Terry asked.

  Sam shook his head. “I don’t have a clue, but take a look at this.”
He presented the bat so they could see it closer. Bite marks had left deep pits in the aluminum. “Something with big powerful teeth made those.”

  “This is seriously scaring the shit out of me,” Sid stated.

  Terry felt it, too. Something was very wrong. “So someone was back here watching the farm before transforming into a werewolf. From there they went and scratched up the back door of the trailer. Why?”

  “Werewolves are hungry,” Sid replied. “That’s what they do. They eat people.”

  “Why didn’t it just break down the door like it did at Crazy Elmer’s? If it wanted to eat somebody, why bother with this place? It could just grab somebody out of a car or wait in the bushes for someone to leave their house? Why here?”

  “I don’t know what the reason is, but the damn thing’s been coming back every night. There’s something it wants,” Sam said.

  “Can you think of anything causing the creature to pay attention to your farm?”

  “Well, everything’s been quiet until Jess and Megan moved into the trailer.”

  “Jess and Megan?” Terry asked.

  “Jessica is the mother and Megan is her five-year-old daughter. They started renting the trailer this week.”

  “That has to be it.”

  “There’s something wrong with your theory, guys,” Sid interjected. “The werewolf bit the baseball bat for no reason? I think there was a second person back here. This guy was using the binoculars and carried the bat with him. He got attacked by the werewolf and used the bat to defend himself. Thus, the bite marks.”

  Terry smiled. “I knew there was a reason to drag a stoner like you along.”

  “We need to bring the sheriff in on this,” Sam stated. “We’re in over our heads.”

  “Bad idea,” Terry said in unison with Sid.

  “Why not? The only reason I haven’t reported it to Sheriff Sutton was because he wouldn’t believe me about a werewolf. Hell, I still find it hard to believe myself, and I wouldn’t, if I hadn’t seen something with my own eyes.”

  “To convince the sheriff, you’re going to need more evidence than a pair of binoculars, door scratches, and bite marks on a bat,” Terry replied. “So let’s look around and see if we can find the half-eaten body of our mysterious stranger.”

  “Please, I haven’t had breakfast yet,” Sid stated. “If I see that I’ll fucking hurl.”

  “I thought you like all that horror movies and slasher stuff,” Terry replied.

  “Yeah, I do, but that shit’s fake.”

  They walked up and down the creek bed finding no trace of anyone, living or dead. Walking the fence running along the edge of the property, they came across one section of barbed wire torn completely down.

  “Goddammit!” Sam shouted upon seeing the damage. “Now I got to rewire the broken fence before my cows get out!”

  Terry knelt to examine the strands of broken fence wire. Black fur and spots of blood still clung to the barbs.

  “A different werewolf did this from the one we shot last night,” he said to the others. “Look at the pieces of black fur.”

  “So Mr. Higgins was right. There is a black-furred werewolf running free,” Sid stated.

  “Yeah, the one that killed his wife,” Terry replied.

  “Now I can call the sheriff and report this as vandalism,” Sam said.

  “Please wait until we’ve had breakfast,” Sid spoke. “I’ve got the munchies real bad.”

  “Better not tell the sheriff you talked to us first, either,” Terry added.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Collin swung up the wooden door to the storm cellar where he intended to keep Jessica and her daughter prisoner until the Ebon Moon. The morning sun, highlighting specks of dust flying in the air, cast a golden light down the dirty stairs. The cellar sat a few yards from the old wooden hay barn. Two years ago, Roxie purchased the abandoned property behind the roadhouse when they moved from British Columbia to Oklahoma. It was the first time he had ever looked inside the dingy cellar.

  Collin descended the dirt-covered stairs. Hanging cobwebs from the low ceiling brushed against his hair when he reached the bottom. The place was small, cramped, and empty of furniture. Just dirt and spiders made a home here. Rusted water pipes jutted out of one wall, which Collin surmised were part of the well system leading to the barn.

  “Brother?” Roxie called as her long shadow stretched down the stairs.

  “Here.”

  Roxie descended the steps. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m preparing a place for Jess and her daughter.”

  She studied the small room. “In this dirty cellar?”

  “It is no worse than the cattle pens we kept humans in back home,” Collin answered. “They will stay here until the Feast of the Ebon Moon.”

  “The sheriff isn’t going to like this.”

  Collin showed Roxie an icy stare. “So what? He will do as I say.”

  “Brother, why must you provoke him so?”

  “He has yet to learn his place.”

  “Our bloodline is so few now. We need unity in our ranks and not contention.”

  Collin stepped forward and embraced his sister. “Reveca, let’s not forget our past and who we are. For centuries the humans feared going into the woods of the Old World because of us. Now we must fear them because we are afraid to provoke the wrath of those who have hunted us to near extinction?”

  “Is it not wiser to slip quietly away and return to the north?”

  “I’m tired of running, sister.” Collin pulled away from her embrace and stared deep into her eyes. “I’m tired of living afraid when it us they should fear. I want a return to the old ways, a time when we hunted freely. Look at the humans, Reveca. They kill each other without regard many times over the number we slay per year. We cull small numbers from their herd—the undesirables, the sick and frail, the forgotten who fall through the cracks in their pitiful society.”

  “I understand.”

  “Then say no more about it and support my decision,” Collin said, leading her back up the stairs. He closed down the cellar door and slid a padlock through the hasp. “That will hold Jess and her daughter until the feast.”

  “What will you do with the sheriff if he resists this plan?” Roxie asked.

  “Show him the error of his decision.” Collin took her by the hand. In the bright morning light, her dark eyes glistened. “I may have to kill him if he continues to thwart the feast and protect Jess and her daughter.”

  “Then there will be no one to serve us.” Roxie’s eyes turned downcast toward the ground.

  Collin touched her chin. “There may be another.”

  “Another?” She looked up again.

  “Last night I came across a human stalking outside the farm where Jessica is staying. He managed to escape but not before I bit him deeply. If he survives the transformation, he will seek us out.”

  “What was he doing there?”

  “I do not know.” Collin took her hand and headed back the quarter-mile toward the roadhouse. “Whatever the reason, we may soon have another to protect us. You inquired about the hunting lodge in Alaska?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “I have told the sellers I want to buy. I will begin the transaction Monday morning.”

  “Good. After the Feast of the Ebon Moon, we will slip away from this accursed place and travel north to mate.” Collin stopped their walk and pulled his sister close to him. “I love you, Reveca, more than life itself, for we share the same wolf blood. It is a bond stronger than any foolish sentimental emotion that the humans pretend is love. Wolfkins mate for life. Never forget that. Not long, my love, and we will be far from here and surrounded by Wolfkin children.”

  Roxie laughed. “It is what I want, too, my love.”

  “Then tonight let us run free under the full moon, as we did in the old days. We will find prey and devour them without fear of retaliation since we will soon be gone from here. What do you say to that, sister?”


  “Yes.”

  “You must do something first. Call Jess at her home and ask her to come back to work again at the bar. We must not lose contact with her until I can figure a way to capture both her and the child. They’re too protected on the farm. I’ll have to use some other ploy. Once we have them both here, we will use chloroform to put them asleep. You still have some, don’t you?”

  “I have one bottle hidden away in the bar.”

  “Good. Once we put them under, we can hold them until the moon is dark. Now make the call and bring Jess back here. Will you do that for your brother?”

  Roxie nodded. “As you wish.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  “We’re having two teenage boys over for breakfast and you know what that means,” Nelda said, handing her a flannel shirt from a closet.

  “Raging hormones,” Jessica chuckled as she slid it on over her tight top. “Did Sam say why the boys followed him home?”

  “They’re helping him with something.”

  Jessica tucked the shirttails into her jeans and tied back her blonde hair. “I should probably go back to the trailer and clean up. My hair smells like cigarette smoke from last night.”

  “You’re fine,” Nelda replied. “Come help me with breakfast.”

  Jessica followed her into the kitchen. Watching Nelda cook was like observing one of those professional chefs on television. In no time the woman had eggs frying, bacon popping, and biscuits browning in the oven. Jessica was given the task of stirring the white gravy. Soon the smell of cooking roused Megan, and she padded into the kitchen on bare feet.

  “There you are, sleepyhead,” Nelda remarked.

  “Hi, Mommy.” She rubbed her eyes. “Hi, Aunt Nel.”

  “Did you sleep well, baby?” Jessica asked as she poured gravy into a ceramic container.

  “I had some bad dreams,” Megan replied.

  “You know they are just dreams and nothing else?” Jessica placed the gravy bowl on the table.

  Megan nodded. “Yes, Mommy.”

  “Are you hungry, sweet pea?” Nelda asked with a smile as she removed a tray of biscuits from the oven.

  “Uh huh.”