Ebon Moon

by McDonald, Dennis

  Collin exited out the front door into the night. He sniffed the air and detected the wafting scent of a human nearby. Judging by the scent of fear mixed with the odor of junk food permeating the breeze, Collin surmised it was one of the teenage boys who had followed the sheriff. He smiled to himself. Any true hunter would have known not to sit downwind from the prey.

  Reaching the driver’s side of the patrol car, he leaned in and took the keys. He popped the trunk, pulled the trauma kit, and grabbed the sheriff’s personal belongings from the front seat before returning to the inside of the bar. Once back inside, he put a finger to his lips, motioning for Roxie to be quiet while he locked the door.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered.

  “Someone’s outside.” He placed the trauma kit, clothes, and gun belt on the bar. “You were followed, Sheriff.”

  “Those punk-ass teens,” Sheriff Sutton grimaced through his teeth. “Take my gun … and shoot them.”

  Collin shook his head. “Too noisy, and I only spotted one. If I shoot him, the other could still be out there and get away. Then this place will be crawling with cops and OHP in no time.”

  “Brother, what do you propose to do?”

  Collin went behind the bar and removed the aluminum baseball bat that the sheriff had brought in from the Olson farm. “I’ll use something a little quieter instead. You stay here and keep working on his wound. I’m going to go out the back door and sneak around the front to catch the kid by surprise.”

  * * * *

  When the tall man with shoulder-length black hair appeared at the front door of the roadhouse, Terry crouched in the brush with his heart hammering with fear. The man went to the sheriff’s patrol car, removed some items, and returned inside. Terry breathed easier after he shut the roadhouse door.

  He pulled the walkie-talkie from his belt and pushed the send button. “Sid?”

  “What’s up?”

  “Someone just came out of the bar and went back inside,” he whispered into the radio. “The guy was the baddest-looking dude I ever seen.”

  “Are you coming back?”

  “I’m going to get a closer look. Keep the truck running and the radio open. I may need you to come and get me real fast.”

  “You’re a crazy fucker, you know that?”

  “I know. Out.”

  Terry put away the radio and moved across the parking lot to crouch at the rear of the patrol car. He spotted a neon glow coming from behind the blinds of one of the front windows. Fighting back his fear, he crossed to the side of the building and peeked inside. A black-haired woman bandaged the leg of the sheriff stretched out on the bar. Terry studied the young woman in the neon bar light. She was slim and sexy with raven-colored hair cascading down over her shoulders. The top of her round breasts jutted out of the low neckline of her tight shirt.

  A sudden shadow caught the corner of his eye.

  Terry ducked. An aluminum baseball bat swung with a whoosh above where his head had been a heartbeat before. He staggered back in surprise. The badass biker man he had seen exit the building earlier now stood before him holding the familiar aluminum baseball bat. His eyes showed dark rage.

  “You should learn to mind your own business, punk,” the man growled in a low voice.

  Terry snapped up the crossbow at his assailant, but the man charged forward swinging the bat again. He fell back while pulling the trigger. The arrow missed and disappeared into the night sky. He had no other arrow to load. Another bat swing whisked across the front of his face barely missing him by an inch.

  “Sid!” he screamed at the top of his voice. He ducked another swing and took off running.

  The large man followed behind swinging the bat at the back of his head. The headlights of the F-150 turned into the parking lot entrance as the truck barreled toward both of them. A spotlight mounted on the driver window blazed suddenly, hitting the large stranger in the face. In the last second, the truck turned sideways and fishtailed to a stop in a cloud of white dust. Terry reached the back of the truck and threw himself in the bed. The blinded man swung the bat, shattering a taillight instead.

  “Go!” Terry shouted.

  The truck tires spun and threw a rocky spray of gravel in the man’s face.

  “I’ll be coming after your ass!” the man raged and threw the bat. It bounced in the truck bed beside Terry as the F-150 shot forward in a squall of white dust and gravel rocks. “Next time you’re dead!”

  The truck pitched onto the asphalt highway and sped away, leaving the roadhouse behind. Bruised and shaken, Terry lay in the truck bed staring up at the stars while trying to catch his breath and slow his heartbeat. After a half a mile, Sid brought the F-150 to a stop and leaped out of the cab. He peered at Terry over the rim of the truck bed.

  “Dude, are you all right?”

  “I’m too fat to run like that,” Terry answered.

  Sid chuckled. “I was there for you, man.”

  “You saved my ass.” Terry sat up. His back and legs ached. Picking up the crossbow, he eased his exhausted body over the side.

  “Who was that dude chasing you?”

  “It had to be the black-furred werewolf in human form,” Terry answered. “I’m sure of it.”

  “You nearly got your fucking head bashed in.”

  “I know.”

  “Did you see anyone else inside?”

  “A dark-haired woman was tending to the sheriff on the bar. She was definitely hot-looking.” Terry tossed the crossbow in the front seat of the truck. “We have to assume she’s a werewolf, too.”

  “A whole fucking pack of werewolves,” Sid replied. “You know how cool that is?”

  “Yeah, and no one is going to believe us.”

  “I wish I hadn’t lost my fucking minicam. I shot some great footage before the wolfie sheriff came after me. It was proof. We need to go back and see if we can find it.”

  “No need.” Terry reached into his coat pocket. “I picked it up but forgot about it in all the excitement.”

  “No shit?”

  Terry pulled the camera from his coat and handed it to Sid, who flipped out the view screen and rewound the footage. Together in the LED glow of the screen, they watched the short thirty-second clip of the werewolf stepping out of the trees and roaring at the camera. Even though it was shaky and shot in night vision, the footage clearly showed the beast.

  “Fucking A!” Sid exclaimed. “You can tell it’s no guy in a suit or some computer-generated bullshit. We got the bastard now.”

  “Congratulations,” Terry stated. “What do we do with it?”

  “Sell it,” Sid answered. “Call the major news stations and offer the video for sale. Discovery Channel, Sixty Minutes, you name it. I’ll do that first thing Monday morning.”

  “That’s smart,” Terry said. “Until then what are we going to do about our problem?”

  “What problem?”

  “Our werewolf problem.” Terry glanced back down the dark highway toward Roxie’s. “They know who we are and they know where we live, thanks to Sheriff Sutton. They’re going to come after us and won’t stop.”

  “What do you propose?”

  “We go after them first. Tonight. During the eclipse. Catch them off guard.”

  “Count me out of it.” Sid shook his head. “I’ve had enough of fucking werewolves trying to eat my ass.”

  “I’ll do it alone then.”

  “You want to take on a pack of werewolves solo?” Sid shook his head. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

  “It’s either them or me,” Terry sighed. “I’ve only got two silver arrows left, and they haven’t been too effective so far. I need something else to battle werewolves with.”

  “Fire,” Sid suggested.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  Collin slammed the door to the bar behind.

  Roxie looked up from tending to the sheriff’s wound. “Brother, what’s wrong?”

  “The punk got away. I almost had him b
ut he managed to escape.”

  “It’s not so easy … stopping this kid,” Sheriff Sutton said.

  “Screw you!” Collin snapped back. “If you had done your job he wouldn’t be a problem now.”

  “What are we going to do about it?” Roxie asked while winding a fresh bandage around the sheriff’s thigh. “He could warn others, bring them here.”

  “Who would believe him? One of our greatest defense is that humans still don’t believe we exist. As long as they’re in the dark, we’re safe. Besides, we’re set to abandon this place after tonight. Tomorrow we will be on our way to Alaska. How are things going with the relocation?”

  “All I have to do is make one phone call and we’re in.”

  “Good. Do it. We’ll just keep up our vigilance if he comes sneaking around again. Tomorrow we just slip away.”

  Roxie helped the sheriff off the bar and eased his uniform pants back on over the bandaged wound.

  “Collin … listen to me,” Sheriff Sutton said, fastening his pants. “Your sister is right …” He winced in pain as Roxie helped him slip on his shirt. “We should leave now … before others come to … find us.”

  “We’re not leaving until after the Feast of the Ebon Moon tonight.”

  “You’re putting … all of us in danger.”

  “You fool,” Collin snapped back. “You are only a Bitten and don’t understand anything. To devour a human child during the Ebon Moon gives our race power. It strengthens our bloodline and has done so for centuries. We don’t partake of such a feast out of a cruel taste for a child’s flesh. We do so out of necessity. Our extinction hangs over us. The need to perform this ritual is greater than ever.”

  “I must stop … you,” Sheriff Sutton responded weakly.

  “Idiot!” Collin struck him across the face. “You dare to defy me!”

  The sheriff staggered back from the blow and fell against the bar.

  “Brother!” Roxie cried out. “He’s hurt. You’ll reopen his wound.”

  “Bah!” Collin raged. “He betrays us for a human woman and child! We have no more use for this half-breed.”

  “What do you propose we do with him?” Roxie asked.

  “We’ll lock him in the storm cellar until the Ebon Moon tonight. That should curb his tongue. Then we go find Jess and her daughter. Give me your bottle of chloroform. I can use it to capture our human guests for tonight’s feast.”

  “I refuse to … be a part of this … madness,” Sheriff Sutton said.

  Collin grabbed the sheriff by the front of his uniform shirt. “What did you say, Sheriff? Are you so human now you would refuse to feed on them? I think not. When the moon grows dark tonight, you’ll be begging me to let you feast upon the child.”

  “I … won’t.”

  Roxie reached under the bar and pulled up a brown bottle and a washrag. “This will put Jess and her daughter asleep. They won’t know a thing.”

  “Good.” Collin grabbed the bottle and poured out some on the rag. “It’s time to give it a test. Let’s see if it works on the sheriff.”

  “Don’t …” Sheriff Sutton protested a second before Collin clamped the rag down over his mouth and nostrils. After a few moments of struggling, he collapsed unconscious to the floor.

  “That should keep him quiet,” Collin commented as he hefted the sheriff’s sleeping body over one shoulder. “Let’s lock him in the cellar and …”

  The cell phone clipped to the sheriff’s gun belt abruptly rang.

  * * * *

  Jessica’s hand shook as she dialed the number Sheriff Sutton scrawled on the napkin at Dottie’s Diner three days before. Fighting to keep her composure, she turned her attention from the pay phone to the dark windows of the closed Jiffy Trip. She gave up smoking while pregnant with Megan, but now she craved a cigarette to calm her nerves. She’d have to wait. The town’s only convenience store was still two hours away from opening.

  The call rang on the other end of the line.

  “Come on, Dale, pick it up. I need you now,” Jessica muttered into the receiver. “Please.”

  The ringing continued until it went to voice mail. “This is Sheriff Sutton. I’m currently not able to answer the phone at this time. If you have an emergency, call 911; if not, leave a message at the sound of the beep.”

  Beep.

  “Dale, this is Jess. Where did you go? You just disappeared.” She fought back the tears in her voice. “Blake broke into my trailer. I shot him. He was going to kill Megan and me. He’s lying dead on the floor. I want to turn myself in. I’m waiting in the parking lot at the Jiffy Trip in Hope Springs. Please come quickly. Please.”

  Jessica placed the receiver back in the cradle and bowed her head. Tears formed in her eyes as she thought about her situation. With very little money, she had no place left to run. Her only option was to throw herself on the mercy of the court and let the legal system sort out the details of the shooting.

  “Mommy?”

  Jessica straightened up, wiping her face. “Yes, baby?”

  Megan had climbed out of the parked Camaro and was now by her side. “It’ll be all right. Don’t cry, Mommy.”

  She crouched down to hug her daughter close. “You’re safe. That is the most important thing.” Jessica kissed her on the cheek. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too, Mommy.”

  “We better get back in the car where it’s warmer, sweetie. We’ll wait for the sheriff there.”

  “Okay.”

  Jessica led Megan back to the Camaro and shut the door. She glanced down the deserted street hoping to see the patrol car. This early on Sunday morning, Hope Springs was an empty ghost town. The lone traffic light buzzed, going from red to green in a continuous cycle. Clearly heard a block away due to the lack of residual noise, the sound did little to ease her sense of total isolation.

  Where the hell is Dale?

  “Mommy, what’s going to happen to us now?” Megan asked.

  The very adult question surprised Jessica.

  “I don’t know, baby.” She reached out and held her close. “Mommy may have to go away for a while. I hope only for a short time. Maybe Nel and Sam can watch you. Would you like that?”

  “I don’t want you to go away,” Megan sobbed.

  “I know, baby. I know.”

  Jessica let out a deep breath. Surely, the court would recognize Blake was a murder suspect and killing him was an act of self-defense by a battered wife and daughter. At least, she hoped they would see it like that.

  The aftershock of the violence in the trailer caused her hands and knees to shake. Minutes passed while she held Megan close. The adrenaline rush of the shooting fled her body, and a growing panic took its place. She closed her eyes and attempted to calm her shaky nerves.

  Bright headlights pulled up behind the Camaro. Jessica looked up and recognized the sheriff’s patrol car.

  Finally.

  Wiping her wet face, she ran hands through her unkempt hair in the rearview as a dark silhouette walked along the driver’s side of the car. A hand knocked on the window and she rolled it down.

  “Out of the car,” Collin said in his deep voice while sticking the barrel of a Glock pistol against the side of her head. “Now.”

  “What the hell?” Jessica sputtered in surprise. “Collin?”

  “You heard me.” He opened the driver door. “Get out.”

  In shock, Jessica glanced toward Megan. On the other side of the car, Roxie opened the passenger door.

  “What’s going on?” Jessica asked in a voice broken by rising panic.

  “You’re coming with us,” Collin replied, grabbing her shoulder and yanking her from the driver’s seat.

  “Mommy!” Megan cried out as Roxie pulled her kicking from the car.

  “Get your hands off my daughter, you bitch!” Jessica screamed.

  “Shut up, Jess!” Collin slammed the pistol barrel down on the back of her head.

  White stars splayed across her v
ision. Jessica groaned. Her knees gave out and she collapsed against the side of the car. Desperately, she clung to consciousness but her vision swam in and out of reality. Too weak to fight, Collin dragged her to the back of the patrol car and threw her inside. As if in a dream, she heard Megan crying.

  From there everything went black.

  * * * *

  Jessica opened her eyes.

  The first thing her fuzzy vision focused upon was a pencil sketch of a forest and full moon in the sky. She recognized it as one of Collin’s sketches and realized she was on the cot in the back room of Roxie’s. Pain throbbed in her head as if someone twisted a knife in her skull. She raised her hands to feel the wound but discovered her wrists tightly wrapped in duct tape.

  On the cot next to her, Megan slept soundly. Jessica lifted her aching head to check her daughter. Both her wrists and ankles were bound in duct tape. Megan’s blonde hair was a disheveled mess covering her face. Jessica attempted to move but found her ankles were taped as well. She twisted in the cot the best she could to embrace Megan.

  Her mind tried to grasp her situation. How had this happened? What did she miss to put Megan and her in such danger? She had suspected Collin was a junkie. Her gut warned her about the man, but she never expected this threat. Dealing with Blake had consumed her thoughts. Why were Collin and Roxie driving the sheriff’s patrol car? Where was Dale? The ache in her head made it hard to focus.

  Shifting in her bound status, Jessica glanced around the room. The overhead light was off, but a gray glow filtered in from the main area of the bar. Just after dawn, she guessed. I must have been out for a couple of hours. Where are Collin and Roxie?

  “Hey,” she said aloud.

  Roxie stepped into the open entrance to the back room. Dressed in tight blue jeans and a black tank top, she held the Glock pistol in her right hand.

  “Quiet,” she replied.

  “What the hell is going on? What did you do to my daughter?”

  “I used chloroform to put her asleep. She wouldn’t stop crying.”

  “Why, Rox? Why are you doing this?”

  “It’s nothing personal, Jess.”