Ebon Moon

  “Debbie … run,” he muttered before the thing dragged him outside again.

  She knew her only chance to survive was to get away as fast as she could. If she stayed in the tent, the nightmares would come in and get her. She rushed out the front opening. To her right, a horrid hunched beast ravaged a screaming Brody with its teeth and claws. His blood-curdling screams died away. Beyond the campfire, Steve’s black pickup truck waited like a beacon to safety. She ran full speed toward the vehicle. Halfway there, she nearly tripped over the body of Steve lying in the dirt. His ripped-open chest and throat revealed a red wetness in the shifting firelight.

  Debbie screamed and reached the driver’s side of the pickup. In her panic, she forgot the truck would be locked. She pounded against the driver window as if some angel inside would hear her pleas and miraculously open the door. None did. Close behind her came a low-throated growl. Her gaze shifted to the dark trees standing tall beyond the firelight. Her only thought was to seek the safety of the woods, as she once did as a frightened thirteen-year-old child.

  She fled into the woods and hid behind a tree. Her back pressed against the rough bark as she held her breath to listen above the jackhammer of her heart. Low growls and the sickening noise of ripping flesh came from the campsite. She didn’t want to see what fed upon her two friends. Instead, her eyes peered ahead into the dark between the trees where firelight did not reach. Too scared to even breathe, she watched as something darker than the shadows filled the space. The crunching of footsteps in the brush accompanied its arrival. In her terror, she imagined her drunken stepfather had found her again.

  “Please, Daddy, no,” she pleaded in a childlike voice barely audible. Urine ran down the inside of her leg.

  But something else emerged from the dark into the flickering light, a creature from a nightmare she never dreamed would exist in her world. Covered in bristling black fur, it stood over her with a wolflike face and blood-red eyes. The beast licked its tongue across a maw of sharp fangs and stepped forward on canine legs. Due to the horror movies she had watched with the now-dead Steve, Debbie recognized the monster.

  A werewolf!

  “Please, don’t kill me,” Debbie begged the horror looming over her.

  The creature paused. Hot slaver dripped upon her face. It sniffed her for a second and emitted a rumbling growl.

  “Don’t kill me,” she repeated in a weak voice.

  Wet lips pulled back as if the werewolf attempted to smile. She looked up into its hungry eyes but saw only savage death.

  “Oh God, please forgive—”

  The teeth of the beast latched on to her throat and ripped it open. Her prayer ended in a gurgling croak. The monster wolfed down the torn flesh as she slid down the trunk of the tree with blood soaking the front of her shirt. Her last sight was of the werewolf bending over her to continue feeding.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Blake Lobato awoke to find himself lying on a dirty carpet in someone else’s motel room. Blood and plaster dust covered his naked body. Confusing images of changing into something beastlike, smashing through the wall, and savagely murdering a man played through his mind. The memories were alien and surreal, like seen through the eyes of a stranger’s nightmare.

  He rose to check out his surroundings. Broken chunks of plaster littered the floor from a huge gaping hole in the Sheetrock. Splattered blood covered the walls and furniture as if done by the hand of a demonic painter. What waited for him on the bed made him recoil in revulsion. Stretched across the blood-soaked sheets were the mangled remains of a decapitated body. A Hispanic male’s head rested on a pillow with his mouth open wide in a last silent scream of terror. A wave of nausea threatened Blake’s stomach. Staggering over the broken plaster, he entered his room and barely made it to the toilet in time to throw up the contents of his last meal—raw human flesh and blood. He heaved a second time, filling the porcelain bowl with more gore.

  His stomach lurched once more from the horror of what he had done.

  He had eaten a man alive!

  What’s happened to me? What have I become? I’m not human anymore!

  From somewhere deep inside came another voice.

  You’re more than human. You’re the new improved Blake Lobato.

  Wiping his bloody mouth, he stared at his reflection in the mirror, feeling a cold resolve. It was true. He wasn’t the same Blake Lobato; he was something more. He had come to Oklahoma to kill his wife and get his revenge before the police found him. But now his focus had changed with his new physiology. He wasn’t going to stop with Jess. He was going to keep killing. He loved it too much. Destiny had granted him the power to release his inner savagery onto the world.

  Flushing the toilet, he watched the contents disappear along with the last threads of his humanity.

  He smiled.

  Mexican food had never agreed with his stomach.

  Leaving the bathroom, Blake found his clothes scattered about the floor. He quickly dressed and donned his black duster. With the vicious murder he committed in the next room, he needed to get away from the crime scene as fast as possible. Stuffing the wad of stolen drug money in his coat pocket, he grabbed the Harley keys. He stepped out the front door and surveyed the parking lot of the cheap motel. The full moon shone overhead above the glow of the streetlights. By his guess, it was still the dead of night. The motel was dark, and no one watched him leave.

  He crossed to the Harley, kick-started the engine, and pulled away. The highway was an empty asphalt ribbon stretching back to Hope Springs. He drove with the wind whipping his coat and reached the deserted downtown where the bank clock blazed 3:04 in the morning. Blake gritted his teeth in a grim smile.

  It was time to pay Jess a visit.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Sleeping naked next to Jess, Sheriff Sutton snapped awake. Every nerve ending of his body seemed on fire. He raised his hand into the moonlight coming through the trailer window. The sharpened points of black claws pushed out below his fingernails as the hair thickened on the back of his hand.

  Not now! his mind screamed. Not here!

  He had put off the beast for too long. Now, it wanted out.

  Slipping quietly out of the bed, he stood in the light of the silvery full moon shining through the window blinds. Hair multiplied down the length of his arms and across his bare back. He glanced over to where Jess slept peacefully. He needed to keep her safe from the beast fighting inside to be free.

  Using all of his will, he stalled the transformation, but he knew it wouldn’t be for long. He grabbed up his clothes from the bedroom floor and went barefoot down the hall. There was no time to dress. Picking up his gun and holster in the front room, he opened the back door and rushed naked out into the night.

  Another wave of uncontrollable change swept through him. He unlocked the door to his patrol car and climbed in the driver’s seat with the upholstery sticking to his buttocks. He glanced once again at the trailer. The back door hung open as if to beckon him to return inside. The beast raging within spoke.

  Why should Collin get to eat the mother and child? You should feed on such a feast.

  No! his human mind screamed back.

  He had to get away before the beast took over completely with its hunger and rage.

  Sheriff Sutton started the car engine with clawed hands barely able to turn the ignition key. Putting the patrol car in reverse, he backed out of the yard and turned onto the blacktop in front of the farm. Remembering the rutted cattle road used to meet Sam Olson earlier in the morning, he swung the patrol car down the broken trail.

  Bouncing along the ruts and potholes, he brought the car to a sudden stop. The silver orb of the full moon high in the night sky triggered an uncontrolled transformation. Popping open the door, he threw himself out of the vehicle. On his hands and knees in the dirt, his naked body quaked under the full moon. Bone and muscle shifted, transforming him into the cursed thing he carried inside.

  The beast stood up to i
ts full height. No longer answering to the human mind, the creature turned its attention back to the dark trailer. It remembered the two innocent females sleeping within. A ravenous hunger burned in the pit of its belly. Ears twitched and nostrils sniffed the night air. Someone else was nearer. It turned its attention to the trees bordering the edge of the recently plowed field. A human’s scent wafted from the dark woods. Leaping over the barbed wire fence, the beast landed on all fours and licked its dripping lips. Other prey was out tonight.

  It was time to feed.

  * * * *

  “This is so fucking lame,” Sid Granger said aloud to no one but himself. Sitting on the elevated deer hunting platform through the night had proven boring to the point that both his butt and mind were numb. His back ached from the cold metal of the stand, and he hadn’t heard from Terry in over an hour. The poser had probably gone to sleep, hiding in the brush by the creek. Sid wanted to go home but decided to maintain his post. He owed Terry that much because of all the shit he put up with by being his only friend.

  “Time to bring out the peace pipe,” he chuckled.

  Removing the one-hitter from his hoodie pocket, he lit the end with a lighter and inhaled deeply. He held in the pungent pot smoke and stared up at the stars overhead. Movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He glanced toward Jess’s dark trailer and coughed in shock. A naked Sheriff Sutton, carrying his clothes, ran from the back of the house. Snapping up the binoculars, he caught a glimpse of the lawman’s bare ass before jumping into his patrol car.

  “What the fuck?” Sid muttered.

  He grabbed up the walkie-talkie and pushed the button.

  “You won’t believe what I just saw,” he radioed. “Sheriff Dickhead running naked out of the trailer. The dude’s ass is really white, by the way.” He continued watching through the glasses as the patrol car started and pulled out of the yard. “He’s leaving in a real fucking hurry.”

  Sid released the button waiting for a reply but got nothing but a static hiss.

  “Come back, Anakin,” he said into the walkie-talkie.

  More radio silence.

  “Shit,” he cursed, putting down the radio. Standing up, he searched the surrounding darkness but saw nothing but trees and shifting shadows caused by the full moon high in the sky. No sign of Terry. A few more minutes passed before he finally decided to climb down and look for his hunting partner. Using the metal rungs, he descended to the leafy floor. Once on the ground, he removed the Sony minicam from his pocket and flipped out the small LCD view screen on the side. Set on night vision, the camera allowed him to see better through the darkness. A cursory scan of the immediate area still showed no sign of Terry’s location.

  “Hey, man, where the fuck are you?” he asked aloud in a hoarse whisper.

  Quiet.

  Sid watched through the video camera screen while walking toward the creek bed. Tree trunks looked ghostly through the greenish gray colors of the night-vision mode. To his left a twig snapped. He swung the camera toward the noise and froze in place. Something big moved through the trees.

  “Fuck,” he gasped. “Is that you, Terry?”

  The only answer was the rumbling growl of a large animal.

  “Okay, you’re not Terry.” Swallowing in fear, Sid pushed the record button with a shaking hand while focusing the camera on the spot where he last saw the movement. This is the chance of a lifetime, he reminded himself. I could be the first person to get actual footage of a real werewolf. The last thing I want is to blow it by running away like a pussy.

  “Come out and smile for the camera, you ugly shit,” Sid said in a shaky voice, holding the camera steady at the same time.

  With a horrendous growl, the monster leaped in the clearing. In the little view screen, Sid caught a glimpse of a beast with sharp fangs, bristling hair, and glowing eyes caused by the night-vision effect. The record light flashed red in one corner of the display. A deep growl caused Sid to look up from the video screen at the beast before him. The huge creature hunkered down in the beams of moonlight. Red eyes glared back at him while its mouth opened showing a dripping maw of canine fangs.

  “Fuck me!” Sid screamed throwing the camera to the side. He sprinted toward the deer stand with the growling beast closing in behind him.

  * * * *

  Without any real sleep in the last twenty-four hours, Terry Newman had dozed off in the brush. He shook himself awake to see a screaming Sid run past headed toward the deer stand. Something large and hairy chased after him. Terry grabbed his Buckshot crossbow, rolled out of his camouflaged hiding place, and raced behind the pursuing beast.

  “Shit!” Sid cursed, reaching the base of the deer stand. He half-climbed, half-ran up the rungs to the metal platform.

  Behind him, the monster leaped in the air to grab Sid with its claws. Terry reacted without thought and pulled the trigger of the crossbow. The silver-tipped arrow flew straight and impaled the thigh of the beast in mid-leap. The creature howled and crashed to the ground with the arrow sticking through its leg.

  Terry ducked behind a tree and grabbed up another silver arrow from his quiver. With his heart thundering, he pulled the drawstring and locked the arrow in place. He steeled his nerves and swung around the trunk ready to fire the crossbow again.

  The creature was nowhere in sight.

  “Where did it go?” Terry yelled up to Sid.

  “It ran off,” he gasped back and pointed south. “In that direction.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fuck no. I think I shit and pissed at the same time,” Sid stated, still trying to catch his breath.

  “Gross,” Terry replied.

  “Where were you, man? I tried to call you.”

  “I fell asleep. I’m sorry.”

  “Some werewolf hunter you turned out to be. It shows up and you’re sleeping on your ass.”

  “Did it have black fur?” Terry kept his eye on the trees.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Its fur seemed lighter. Like a brown color.”

  “You got to be fucking kidding me.” Sid shook his head. “How many werewolves are out there?”

  “I wish I knew. I only got three arrows left.”

  Terry pulled a flashlight out and trained it on the ground where the werewolf had fallen. A trail of fresh blood led through the trees.

  “I’m going after it,” he announced with his heart thumping in his throat.

  “Not me. I’m staying right here,” Sid replied.

  “Fine, just keep the walkie-talkie handy. Let me know if you see it.”

  Terry took off tracking the blood trail by flashlight while keeping the loaded crossbow at the ready. Somewhere nearby was a wounded werewolf. Fear clutched his gut. The fanciful notion of a heroic monster hunter didn’t seem too smart now faced with a dangerous supernatural werebeast in the dark woods. He swallowed and kept on going.

  Something metallic on the leafy ground caught his flashlight beam to the left. He stooped to pick it up. It was the Sony minicam Sid had brought with him. Terry checked the view screen and saw the camera still on record. He shut it off, stuck it in his pocket, and returned to the blood trail. The flashlight beam cut an eerie arc through the misty woods. The track of the monster turned toward the barbed wire fence where Sam had taken them earlier in the day. He heard the shutting of a car door. He rushed forward until he came out of the trees. Twenty-five yards beyond the fence, the patrol car waited with a naked Sheriff Sutton standing beside it pointing a pistol straight at him.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Naked and wounded, Sheriff Sutton staggered out of the tree line. The arrow stuck in his thigh had caused him to return to his human form. Only a wound by a silver weapon affected a Wolfkin in such a way. Rage boiled inside at the realization. One of those stupid teenagers had shot him with a silver-tipped arrow, aborting his natural lycanthropic healing ability. Blood poured down his leg leaving a trail behind him, but there was nothing he could do.
He needed to get away before he bled out completely.

  He slipped through the barbed wire fence and hobbled the distance to his patrol car. The driver door stood open. Reaching inside, he grabbed the Mag flashlight from his gun belt lying in the passenger seat, turned it on, and examined the arrow wound.

  The tip had completely pierced his leg. Blood pumped out in a red stream around the fiberglass shaft. The arrow needed to be removed before he could drive. Gritting his teeth, he broke off the feathered shaft and yanked the arrow tip from his flesh on the other side. The pain and the sudden loss of blood nearly caused him to pass out. He fought against unconsciousness and limped to the back of the patrol car. Popping the trunk, he reached in and grabbed up a portable trauma kit in a plastic case. From the kit, he quickly stuffed gauze dressing into the puncture wounds and wrapped a tight bandage around his thigh. It was the best he could do at the moment, but at least it managed to slow the blood loss.

  Heavy footsteps moving through brush sounded from the woods on the other side of the fence. He realized one of the boys tracked him through the trees. His anger at the two teenagers, who had caused him so much trouble and pain, reached a boiling point. He pulled the Glock from his gun belt and waited. Terry Newman emerged holding a hunting crossbow in his hands. Their eyes locked for a second before he ducked back behind a tree. Sheriff Sutton didn’t shoot the boy. He needed Terry and Sid Granger alive. He had offered the teens for the Feast of the Ebon Moon in the place of Jess and Megan. Without the boys, there was nothing to stop Collin from abducting Jess and her daughter. He was too wounded now to fight for them.

  Blood continued to ease around the bandage and down his leg. He needed time to recover and come up with a plan. Retreat was his best option. Keeping the gun trained on the trees, he eased himself into the driver’s seat and started the engine. He dropped the car in gear, backed out, and turned around. The drive back down the cow trail sent jarring pain up his leg with every bump in the road.