Soul Inheritance

by Honey A. Hutson

  Greystone was the predator and she the prey. The language of the wolves meant different things to each of them, but survival to both as they crashed through the forest toward the little rustic, run down cabin the family had stayed in when they first arrived.

  Katherine recognized the scene from her experience at Dora’s Place. Her arms throbbed as she thought of that night, in Greystone’s clutches inside the little ivy covered cabin. Something in her remembered more. Remembered a feeling of exhilaration. Miranda’s love for the man inside the beast. The thought of his embrace made her heart race, despite the pain it inflicted. As Miranda she’d still loved him despite it all. As Katherine she could not afford to.

  Chapter eleven

  Nigel drove until late afternoon. After leaving the interstate he trolled along highway eleven looking for the turn to Shin Pond. Impatience nibbled at him until the turn finally appeared between a tall stand of trees and a dilapidated old barn.

  “Finally,” he grumbled as he made the turn and noted the road sign. “Shin Pond 15 miles. Shin Pond Village 18. Damn, I was beginning to think I was lost in the goddamned twilight zone or something.”

  It was getting late and he was anxious to get to the cabins where he thought Katherine languished alone. After a little rest he’d have them making up before he went out to check on this lake property.

  “Ah, yea. Dear little Kathy. After driving all that way cross country alone and being stranded in the wilderness you’ll be getting desperate for a little company. Someone to keep you safe.” He chuckled to himself as that foreign sensation stirred.

  The sun began to fade, leaving a dull sprinkling of light in its wake. Nigel saw movement out of the corner of his eye; too late as a dark shadow rushed into the road. Slamming on the breaks was useless as car and animal collided. Screeching tires and crushing metal filled the quiet woods, sending birds to the air and the animal flying.

  “Damn it to hell!” Nigel shrieked, beating his hands on the steering wheel. “Fuck. Fuck. Fucking shit!” He scrambled to get the seat belt loose, finally succeeded. Climbing out of the driver’s seat he stood in front of the vehicle, surveying the damage.

  Steam flowed from the top of the radiator and fluid from the bottom. The hood was crinkled and drawn up toward the windshield like tin foil.

  “What the f…”

  A groan came from the side of the road. Nigel sprang back in surprise as the animal moved.

  At the very edge, nearly in the ditch, lay a large hairy dog big enough to be a Shetland pony. It writhed, then lay still, allowing him to approach. The head was much larger than anything he’d ever seen. Its fur was thick and layered different shades of grey. The eyes lay open, a deep foreboding amber. The expanded legs were long, the paws huge.

  “Damn. That thing must weigh close to a hundred fifty pounds,” Nigel speculated aloud.

  “More like two hundred.” A large figure formed at the edge of the trees. He strained to adjust to the shadows where the stranger stood.

  “Oh, man. Is that your dog? Ya really need to keep a thing like that on a leash. Look at what ya’ve done to my car!”

  “What I’ve done?” The voice was followed by spine-chilling laughter. “You’re about to find out that’s no dog. Meet Mangler.”

  Nigel stared in the direction of the stranger. Greystone stepped from the shadows into the fading light, clucking to the wolf. It rose to its feet with no effort. Its amber eyes took on a light of their own – burning from within, as Nigel backed feebly toward the car, tried to run.

  The creature had him pinned down in one leap, claws and teeth tearing into his legs.

  “Not too much, easy boy. I might need him later. Just put him out of commission for now.” The wolf seemed to understand as it walked up Nigel’s body, bit into his neck, shook his head just enough to tear the flesh and bring blood oozing out. “Enough,” Greystone ordered and it back away, disappeared into the shadows. “I can’t have you slowing her down. She’s almost home and we’ve waited so long.” With a flurry of wings he was gone, leaving Nigel bleeding in the road.

  ‡

  Shin Pond Medical Center got the call just before dark. The patient arrived thirty minutes later badly mangled with trauma to the legs and neck.

  “What’ve we got?” Dr. Stafford asked as he reported to the trauma unit.

  Two of the emergency crew members accompanied the patient.

  “It appears he hit something. Judging by the tracks at the scene and some hair in the grill it was a dog.”

  “All of this over a…” his voice trailed off as he removed the blanket. The patient was covered in blood and the dressings were soaked past the point of absorption.

  “My God! That was one pissed off pooch.” The material of the slacks was shredded along with the muscles and skin, leaving areas of bone exposed. “Everybody but those helping get out!” Dr. Stafford proceeded to start with the wounds that were threatening to bleed out the quickest.

  Both emergency technicians gladly left. The ambulance had to be cleaned up and the sheriff’s office would be coming to ask questions.

  ‡

  Out on highway eleven Officer Webster looked the car over.

  “I ain’t ner seen nothin’ like it. Somethin big enough to do this much dam’age gets hit an up and walks away?” The quick, rhythmic Northern Maine accent was heavy as it poured out. He scratched his head.

  “What’da ya think it was, Chris? A be’ar?” Trooper Lancaster looked as mystified as the county sheriff. Growing up in a sizable town in southern Maine had given him a less prominent, though still noticeable, northern sound.

  “No be’ar. Look at th tracks. It’s gotta be a wolf and a damn big ‘en. Been huntin all my li’fe, all over th place and I ain’t ner seen tracks this big, or this deep. Th ha’ir’s diffe’ent than a dawg, more down in it, co’arse on top. There’s plenty of it in th grill. Go look.” Webster shook his head, walked round the tracks and car as he talked.

  “We ain’t seen no wolves round here, even since they been puttin’ ‘em back in the wild. You been workin’ too much.”

  Face red and angry Webster turned on him. “Then what th hell da you think it is? Or would ya like to go off tracking th thing and find out fer ya self?”

  “Easy, easy. Okay. I don’ know what it’d be. I just don’t think it could be that, but stranger things have happened. In fact th whole thing’s down right weird.” Lancaster stared hard at the evidence all around him. Squatting down in front of the broken grill he gently ran the tips of his fingers over the hair lodged there.

  Webster watched his confused expression, grew impatient. “Well? What da ya see?”

  “Look around. There’s all kinds a blood from the m’an, but where’s the blood from the cridder?”

  They both stood in silence, studying the front of the car in the flood light from the cruiser. There was no blood on the grill, hood, or headlights. Just tufts of hair.

  “We gotta tow this thing in. Truck on the way?” Webster looked at Lancaster.

  “Yep, should be he’re any minute. Do we know who this guy is? There somebody needs to be contacted?” Lancaster asked.

  “Haven’t looked yet. Wanna give me a hand?” Webster motioned to the car, indicating they search it.

  Each officer went to opposite sides. Lancaster found the rental agreement in the glove box. “Nigel Cain. Why does that so’und familiar?” He thought for a second. The realization struck him suddenly. “Hey, ain’t that the suspect in Bangor?”

  The two looked at one another.

  “This shit keeps gettin' stranger an stranger. Take a look at this.” He handed Lancaster the map that had been lying in the window with the route he was taking marked in highlighter and the destination circled. “He’s headed for McKlannen lake.”

  Lancaster’s interest immediately peaked. McKlannen Lake had been a fas
cination for him since he was a kid. There were all sorts of ghost stories about the place. Tales of strange beasts, disappearances, family curses. He’d even compiled a sort of history of the place over the years. The missing heirs of the lake came to mind. Nigel was too young by the birth date listed to be the male heir who’d disappeared into the night decades ago. Maybe he was the man’s son.

  The large tracks and signs of struggle made sense if the stories were true, but they weren’t close enough to McKlannen Lake for him to reach that conclusion. Still, the thought lay close. Eerie tales told round the fire at other lakes about a ‘lake nearby’ where wolves roamed at night and demons guarded the water and the homestead that sat waiting for the heir to return.

  “No shit. So the pieces begin to fit. Think he’s kin to the long lost owners?”

  Webster shrugged. “May’be some kinda nut case. Could be one of them cult people gone over th edge.”

  Lancaster found a cell phone laying in the passenger seat and hit the send button. Katherine’s name and number lit up the screen.

  “Let’s see what K McKalister has to say bout it.”

  The phone began to ring.

  ‡

  Katherine picked the cellular up from the passenger seat. The number was Nigel’s.

  “Damn it. I’ve had it with you. You’ve done fucked it up, get over it,” she fussed at the phone as she made the turn onto state route eleven. Thoughts of the depleted gas tank beginning to nag at her. Leg and back muscles ached. She’d need to stop for gas before she turned onto 159 to Shin Pond.

  After a moment’s consideration she picked up the phone and pushed the green receive button.

  “Damn it Nigel, I told you to leave me the hell alone. I don’t want anything to do with you and if you think…”

  “Hey, Hey, Hey. Wait a minute, I’m not Nigel.”

  For a moment she didn’t know what to say. Lancaster paused, took a deep breath.

  “I take it ya do know Nigel, however.” He tried to drown the chuckle from his voice.

  “Yes. Who’s this?” The rage died down to curiosity.

  “Trooper Jim Lancaster with the Maine State Police. Who’re you?” He grew serious again, hearing her southern drawl. Southern women had always commanded his attention easily.

  “Katherine McKalister.”

  “Okay… let me put it differently. Who’re ya to Nigel Cain?”

  Katherine was quiet, not sure how to answer.

  “Well, I’m his ex I guess.”

  It was Lancaster’s turn to be baffled. “Recent ex I take it?” There was no way to explain why hope gathered in his gut.

  “Yes, within a couple weeks. What’s going on?”

  “He’s been in an accident and I’m lookin' for someone to notify. Recon you could help me out?”

  “Uh, well. There really isn’t anyone. He hasn’t spoken to his family in years and… well; I guess you know where he stands with me.” Trying not to be up-beat was difficult as she listened to the hint of the accent she most loved to hear paired with a strong confident baritone.

  Lancaster liked her obvious sense of control, the tone of her voice. “I kinda got th feelin' you two aren’t on speakin' terms.”

  Katherine laughed, “How’d you know?”

  “Psychic maybe.” He smiled despite his efforts to keep a professional appearance in front of a fellow officer. “Where would ya be at Ms. McKalister?”

  “I’m on state route eleven, headed for route 159. The asshole followed me here from the sound of it. You did say Maine state police?” Drumming her fingers on the wheel she felt confidence beginning to flow. A deep desire to flirt. She wondered if it was really her emotion, or Miranda’s.

  “Yes, Ma’am. I sure did. He must a known right where ya’re going. He was ahead of ya bout a hour or so if you’re headed to’ard Shin Pond.”

  “He left a message a while ago. Said he had a surprise for me. I had a bad feeling that was the surprise. How’d he get hurt?” She tried to focus, suppress the urges.

  “Well, it’s kinda complicated. There’re some other issues concernin’ him. I need ta talk ta ya in person. How far are ya from turning onto 159?”

  ‘What’re you doing?’ Officer Webster mouthed in puzzlement, Lancaster ignored him.

  “Not really sure, but I’d estimate forty five minutes.”

  “Could ya meet me at the truck stop diner just before your turn? A place called River’s Gap.”

  “Sure.” The answer came quickly. She smacked herself on the forehead as she looked in the mirror, saw muddy eyes. This guy could be anyone and here she was agreeing to meet him sight unseen.

  “And how’ll I know ya?”

  “I’m driving a green Jeep, five four, long dark hair, royal blue short sleeved shirt and black jeans.” To her dismay the information poured out unchecked.

  “Alright then. I’ll see ya the’re in about forty five minutes, give or take.” Lancaster hit the end button without waiting for a reply. That way there’d be no chance to back out. He wanted to meet the woman who could peak his interest with just the rhythm of her voice. It was a strange desire, like nothing he’d experienced before.

  Webster repeated his question, out loud this time. “What’re ya doin'?”

  “She might have information for us ‘bout this guy. She’s his ex.”

  “Ex what? Ex-wife, Ex-girlfriend? Ex-partner in crime?”

  “I’ll find out for ya.” Lancaster winked at Webster and turned to the waiting cruiser.

  “Hey. Ya ain’t leavin’ me out he’re alone ar ya?”

  “What’s a matter? Fraid of the big bad wolf?” He chuckled heartily as he got in the vehicle and headed for River’s Gap.

  ‡

  Katherine pulled into the brightly lit truck stop exactly forty six minutes after hanging up with Trooper Lancaster. The quicker she got this over with the better. At least it sounded like Nigel would be out of the way for a while. She put the car in park and stared at herself in the rear view mirror.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she said aloud, knowing the question wasn’t so much aimed at her as the entity with the muddy eyes. Nothing but her now cowering conscience answered, which plead the fifth. “Yea, yea. Okay, so he’s a manipulative so-of-a-bitch, but I lived with him for three years. A little respect for the injured here.” She felt silly for chastising a reflection as though she were a sister lecturing a sibling. There were moments, just moments, when it felt like there was more than one person in her head. Like Miranda wasn’t so much another part of her as another being entirely. It worried her, if only for brief instants of awareness.

  The pumps worked slowly. She leaned wearily against the car. The drive had been more tiring than she realized. The digits on the pump climbed upward, over ten, over twenty, over thirty. The cruiser had glided into the lot unnoticed. Trooper Lancaster sat watching from the darkness of the interior.

  ‡

  Blue Shirt, Black jeans, long hair in a French braid. That had to be the mystery lady. He watched her leaning on the car, watching the pump intently. She was beautiful, at least in his opinion. Not skinny like so many women tried to be these days, but not chunky either. She took care of her body, worked out, cared about her appearance, though she looked exhausted.

  Lancaster got out of the car, closed the door firmly. Not very observant. Maybe she was just tired from driving. He sauntered up to the car, came around the back side, noting the North Carolina license plate as he passed.

  The movement at the back of the car caught her attention. Katherine jumped as a man in a dark grey uniform stepped from behind the car.

  “Oh, Shit. You scared me.” Her heart was racing, at first from fright, but it continued for other reasons.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean ta startle ya.” Lancaster felt instantly embarrassed. ‘Great first impression ya dick!
’ he thought looking into Katherine’s startled eyes. They were a strange color. Part green, but dark, as if smoke flowed through the irises.

  She took a moment to compose herself, wiped her sweaty hand on her jeans before reaching out. “Didn’t know what you were there for a minute.” She smiled, hoping he would miss that last little slip. He didn’t.

  “What I was?”

  “I mean… who, of course, who you were.” It was her turn to be embarrassed. “I’m just a little tired. Been driving all day. Trooper Lancaster I presume?”

  “Yep, an ya’re Katherine McKalister. That’s certainly an interestin’ choice of words there.” Lancaster smiled at her; intrigued, instantly convinced she knew what had gone on tonight. “Ya had dinner yet?”

  Katherine hesitated. “No, no I haven’t.” She felt confident and more than willing to spend a little time with this tall, handsome man. It was nearly impossible to miss the bulging muscles that pushed his uniform to its limits. Broad chest, strong arms, grand stature. He was at least six two, with wavy black hair and startling, sparkling brown eyes so light they were nearly amber. His smile was broad and warm, comforting and sexy all at the same time. She found herself smiling broadly up at him, feeling a strange, instantaneous attraction, as if she knew him. A brief memory, hot and painful, flashed through her mind. Charles standing by the lake, smile wide and inviting.

  The flinch the pain produced caught his eye. “Ya alright?”

  The gas pump kicked off and Lancaster reached over automatically, removed it from the tank and placed it back in its cradle.

  “Yea, just tired.”

  “Maybe we can get a bite ta eat while we talk. I got some things to fill ya in on. But before we get into all that I have questions that need answered.”