Moondeath

by Rick Hautala

  “Hmmm. Three o’clock already,” Bob said, trying to sound casual as he jogged his tests together and put them into his briefcase. “Well, I guess you won’t have to run you life on a bell system anymore, will you?”

  Ned had already turned to leave, but he stopped at the door and looked at Bob. There was something in his gaze the unnerved Bob: a deep, smoldering hatred and—and suspicion?

  “Thanks,” Ned said tightly. “You’ve earned your paycheck for the week,” he added, slamming the door shut behind him.

  .II.

  “I had plans for tonight. Really,” Julie pleaded. She pulled back as Jeff Carter’s hands ran roughly over her back and shoulders. She shuddered.

  “Well you’ll just have to put them off, babe, ’cause I’ve got something else in mind.” He slid one hand around to her waist and then ran it up to her breast and squeezed. She wiggled, trying to get away, but Jeff read it as her growing excitement. He pulled her roughly to him and snapped open the three top buttons of her blouse.

  The smell of booze on his breath sickened her. “Well, for Christ’s sake, Jeff, can’t you get it up without getting drunk first?” she asked.

  Jeff belched loudly.

  Julie went on, “It’s almost an insult. If you think I—”

  “This is no insult,” he said, taking her hand and placing it on his bulging crotch. Julie squeezed, hoping to inflict some pain. Jeff took her shoulders and pushed down, making her kneel in front of him. “There you go, babe. How ’bout giving me a little bit of head.”

  Julie stood up quickly and tried to get away, but Jeff grabbed her and forced her to the couch. He ripped open the remaining buttons and then began to tug her blouse down her shoulders.

  “Just loosen up a bit, will yah?” he said, pinning her by the shoulders and shaking her. “Christ, come on!”

  He fastened his mouth to hers in a slobbering kiss, jamming his tongue into her mouth. The sour taste of whisky made Julie gag. She pulled away, but Jeff forced her to lie down on the couch.

  “Take it easy, will you?” she said angrily. “You’re hurting me.”

  “You love it and you know it,” he said. His eyes were glowing with passion. His breathing was raspy. He grabbed his drink from the coffee table and swallowed it with two large gulps. Then he turned back to her and lunged forward.

  Julie wanted to spit on him as he bent down and nibbled on her neck. His hands worked furiously behind her to release her bra. She felt it loosen, and then his hands came back around front.

  “Jeff, don’t you think it’s a little bit late to get started?” She looked over at the clock on the mantel. “It’s past eleven. Won’t Lisa be wondering where you are?”

  All she heard was a muffled snort as he took her nipple into his mouth and began to suck. His hands moved down and started working on her belt.

  “Really, Jeff, I think Lisa will—”

  “Will you just shut the fuck up about Lisa?” he shouted, raising his hand in a threatening blow. “And loosen up, dammit!”

  He grasped the top of her jeans, snapped them open, and pulled them down roughly, taking her panties with them. There was a quick sound of tearing fabric. With a low animal grunt, Jeff stood up and dropped his pants down around his ankles. Pulling her legs open wide, he plunged forward and into her.

  Julie gritted her teeth and kept her eyes fixed on the clock as Jeff pumped up and down, groaning. He rocked her back and forth until the couch springs squeaked in rhythm. Finally, with a shudder, Jeff stiffened and gasped, then sank onto her with his full weight.

  Half an hour later, after Julie had dressed and Jeff had tossed down three more whiskies, Julie got up off the couch and walked into the kitchen. It was getting really close to the time, and she was getting nervous, wondering how she could get rid of Jeff.

  Jeff wandered into the kitchen behind her. “Hey, Jule,” he said with a slur, “yah haven’t even had a drink wi’ me all night. ’S not good to drink alone.” He reached up into the cupboard and took down another glass.

  “You’re not alone,” she said, smirking as he almost dropped the glass when he tried to fill it. “I think I’ll pass tonight,” she said, jumping up to sit on the counter.

  “Not even a tinsy-winsy?” he asked, measuring a small amount with his fingers.

  Julie shook her head.

  “Well, then, how ’bout a little…” He winked at her lasciviously.

  “Oh no! I think you’ve exceeded your limit on two accounts tonight.”

  He started toward her on shaking legs but found the effort too great and sat down into the kitchen chair.

  “I think you best be getting home, don’t you?”

  Jeff raised his half-empty glass to the light and squinted at it. “Jus’ lemme finish this one first, OK?”

  Julie glanced at the clock. It was eleven-thirty. “Just make it quick,” she said, jumping down and going to the closet to get Jeff’s coat.

  Jeff polished off the glass and, snickering, started to unscrew the cap on his bottle.

  “Oh no you don’t,” she said. “You said you’d finish that drink and go.”

  “One more for the road. There’s jus’ a little bit left. ’Sides, it’s awful cold outside.”

  Julie came over to him and started to slide one of his arms in the coat sleeve. “No way. It’s late. Time for sleepy-bye.”

  Jeff stood up to put his other arm into the sleeve. He stumbled and had to catch at her to keep from falling. His rough beard scratched against her face. “That’s what I been tryin’ to tell yah, babe. ’S beddy-bye time.”

  Julie kept her voice firm as she glanced at the clock. It was eleven-forty-five. She might still make it. “That’s right. For me here, and for you at home.”

  Jeff finally got his other arm into the coat sleeve and started to button up. He turned quickly and planted a wet kiss on Julie’s cheek. She wiped the saliva away and handed Jeff his gloves.

  “There you go. Got your keys?”

  Jeff nodded dumbly and patted his coat pocket.

  “Well then,” she said, moving over to the door, “I guess you’re on your way.” She opened the door and a frigid blast of air entered the kitchen. She took a deep breath as she looked up at the rising full moon.

  “You won’t lemme sleep in your cozy little bed, huh?” Jeff said, coming toward her.

  Julie neatly sidestepped him and, grabbing his coat collar, propelled him out into the cold night. He tried to negotiate the steps, but he was so blind drunk, he wasn’t able to stop. He pinwheeled wildly across Julie’s snow-covered lawn and then collapsed onto his back. Julie shut the door with a bang and locked it.

  She sat at the kitchen table, nervously drumming her fingernails on the Formica top as she waited to hear his car start up. She looked up and saw the glow of his headlights out the window, then the car roared to life. The gears ground loudly once, and then she heard the car sputter down the snowy road that led back to town.

  As soon as the sound of the car disappeared, she jumped to her feet, knocking over the chair. She ran to the counter and pulled open the drawer. Reaching in, she took out the red sash and the jar filled with black syrup.

  She dashed over to the cellar stairway. Pausing for a second and casting a quick glance at the clock, she snapped the kitchen light off and descended.

  She wasn’t too late.

  .III.

  Jeff clicked on the radio as he drove and jumped into the middle of a Merle Haggard song with a voice that hit one note in ten. His eyes barely focused on the snowy road, and the ass-end of his car kept trying to take the lead for a change. Snow shot up from under his back tires as Jeff pressed the accelerator down hard.

  He rolled down his window and let the freezing air hit him in the face. The dark river to his right glittered in the moonlight; it had just started to freeze up above the falls. He leaned his head back and bellowed up at the ceiling.

  When he got to a point where he could see the falls through a break in the trees,
he slowed down and stared up at the white plume of mist. His attention wasn’t on his driving, and, suddenly, there was a dull thump from underneath his car. Instinctively, Jeff gripped the wheel hard as he looked out at the road. He recognized his problem immediately. Looking out of his windshield, he was staring at the side of the road. His car was sliding sideways.

  “Lousy cunt,” he swore as he pumped the brake with his foot. He merely assisted the skid. He watched, frozen, as his headlights swept up into the sky and his car rocketed over the snowbank and into a stand of swamp maple.

  His head was thrown forward and hit the horn, giving off a loud honk. The car jolted to a stop with its front-end pointing down into the snow. He could see that the light of his headlight was diffused through the snow.

  “Goddamn!” Jeff said as he sat for a moment, dazed. He turned the car off and slumped in his seat. His hand dropped to the floor beside him, and he remembered something he had forgotten all night. He had another bottle of whisky in the car.

  Huffing, he got on his knees and reached under the seat. Passing over tools, oily rags, and assorted empties, his hand finally alighted on the pint bottle.”

  “Liquid gold,” he said, smacking his lips and unscrewing the cap. He tilted his head back and took a bubbling swallow. “Thank you, Lord,” he said, and belched.

  Fortified now, he felt able to get out of the car and assess the situation.

  He found that his car was about twenty feet from the river, and somewhere in his clouded brain, he found the ability to appreciate that. If the car had hit the ice here, he probably would have gone through and sunk. He stared at the river and listened to the distant hissing of the falls.

  He walked over to the car and, cursing, kicked it viciously on the door. “Goddamn piece of shit!”

  Steadying himself with a maple sapling, he took another swallow of whisky. It was working its magic. With each swallow he felt less upset. He could deal with the situation.

  “Is this like when you have a boating accident?” he asked himself, staring drunkenly at the car. “Are you supposed to stay with the car or try to get back?”

  He had a rough idea of where he had gone off the road. He knew that it was just about the same distance to town as it was back to Julie’s house. It’d be a bitch either way, a hell of a long walk. Finally, after a moment’s consideration, he came up with a better idea.

  He knew that, above the falls, there was an old wooden bridge spanning the river. From there, he figured, it would be easiest and shortest to take the old mining road back to town. He could come back in the morning with a tow truck and get his car out of the pucker-brush.

  He went over to the car and switched off the lights. Before closing the door, he sat down on the seat and, fumbling, tightened his bootlaces. After one more gulp of whisky, he pulled his coat collar tight and started out.

  He took exaggerated giant-steps through the snow. The going was a bit more difficult than he had expected. He hadn’t considered the depth of the snow. Slowly, and with many pauses for a haul from his pint, he made his way upriver to where he knew the bridge would be.

  As he got closer to the falls, the roaring grew louder, until it filled the night, drowning out all other sounds. Mostly by luck he found the bridge and started out across it.

  The bridge was old. Its timbers were rotting. With each step, Jeff was surprised that he didn’t fall through. The wooden railing swayed loosely in his hand.

  When he was halfway over the bridge, Jeff paused to watch the water as it swept toward the falls. It moved with an inky oiliness, glittering in the full moonlight and almost taking Jeff’s stomach with it as it slid through the flume. The sound was deafening. The spray rose up into the still night air.

  Taking his bottle from his pocket one last time, Jeff emptied it. Then, with a heartfelt sigh, he pitched it into the water and watched it go over the falls before continuing on his way.

  He came out by the old abandoned silver mine. The road was never plowed out this far up, so the snow was deeper here, and he had a rough time making his way through it. His steps wavered, and he fell every twenty feet or so, but he slowly made it down the slope, past the deserted buildings, and onto the wider road that led back into town.

  As he walked down the road, Jeff kept glancing back over his shoulder at the falls. The white spray rose into the air and glittered as it froze. Up on the cliffs, beside the falls, Jeff could see the gaping back holes of the played-out mineshafts. Something about them made him shiver, and he picked up his pace.

  When he was about half a mile below the falls, he stopped short. He realized only then that he had been running, plowing his way through the snow. He leaned over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

  He turned his gaze down the road and at the trees that silently lined the road. A soft wind suddenly picked up and swayed the branches back and forth. Jeff shivered and clapped his hands to his shoulders to keep his circulation going.

  Suddenly he froze, his arms posed in midair. Something was standing underneath the trees by the side of the road. Jeff squinted and, through his alcoholic gaze, finally discerned a doglike shape.

  “Just a little old pooch,” he said with glee. He chuckled to himself and started forward. “Jus’ a little ole doggie.”

  He clapped his hands together and whistled shrilly. “Come’ere, fella. Come on.” He took a few more steps closer and whistled again. “Come on, boy. Come’ere.”

  He stopped short when he saw the animal suddenly crouch low to the ground. It snarled loudly.

  “Hey, come on, fella. I’m jus’ bein’ friendly. What’s the matter wi’ you?”

  Jeff cocked his head and regarded the dog that crouched about thirty feet away from him. The growling rose steadily.

  “Are you feelin’ nasty ’cause you didn’t get a piece o’ ass tonight? ’S that it? You horny little bastard!”

  The animal growled again and moved forward.

  “Now that ain’t nice, fella. Be a good dog. Come on.” Jeff snapped his fingers and whistled.

  He suddenly felt his stomach drop when the animal growled and rose to its full height. It moved closer toward him, and when it stepped out into the moonlight, its eyes glowed with an angry green light.

  “Big fella, ain’t yah?” Jeff said, starting to back away as he realized the danger.

  The animal’s jaws opened, exposing a row of sharp white teeth.

  “I sure hope you’re jus’ bluffin’ me,” Jeff said, trying to sound calm.

  The animal’s hackles shot up. The growl exploded into a loud bark, and the animal sprang. Needle-sharp teeth tore into the arm Jeff raised in front of his face for protection. His coat and his arm tore open as the weight of the beast bore him back onto the ground. The air was knocked out of Jeff. The animal held onto Jeff’s arm and savaged it back and forth, its teeth grinding like a saw blade.

  Jeff started to shout and scream as the pain spread through his body. An icy numbness gripped his brain when he heard the sharp crunching bone.

  “Get away! Get away, you bastard!” Jeff shouted as he scrambled on the ground, trying to dislodge the weight that pressed him down. With his loose hand, he swung wildly and struck the animal’s nose several times. With a sudden, savage pull, the animal jerked on Jeff’s arm. There was a dull pop as the shoulder was dislocated. Jeff screamed.

  At last the animal let go and backed off. Jeff lay on the ground for a moment, dazed, looking up at the wild beast that crouched nearby. He tried to move away but found that his body wouldn’t obey the commands of his brain.

  His eyesight began to dim and soon all Jeff could see was the hazy blue expanse of moonlit snow. He knew, distantly, that the dark splotches on that blue snow were pools of his life’s blood. He was sinking down.

  Then, like a terrible shadow, the animal loomed up over him. The green eyes flashed with fury, and, with a ferocious snarl, the animal fastened its jaws to Jeff’s neck and pulled violently. Jeff’s neck broke with a
dull pop. The animal gave his body a few quick shakes and then began to feed.

  .IV.

  “I’m sorry I called you so late,” Lisa said as she sat on the couch with her hands pressed between her knees. “He should have been home by now. I’m really worried.”

  Bob leaned back in his seat and took a thoughtful drag on his cigarette. He let the smoke drift lazily out his nostrils.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Lisa said softly.

  “No,” Bob said pointedly. “No, you don’t know what I’m thinking.”

  “I do,” Lisa said with an edge to her voice. “You’re thinking that I’m getting exactly what I deserve for putting up with, with his running around.”

  “I’m not,” Bob said calmly as he snubbed out the butt in the ashtray.

  “But this is different. I know it is. I just have this feeling that something’s happened.” She giggled nervously. “I know he’s been on some real good benders, but this, this is different.” She shook her head hopelessly and let her shoulders slouch as she stared at the floor.

  “I’m sure he’s OK. Really,” Bob said, leaning over to pat her gently on the shoulder. His voice was still rusty with sleep.

  “He’s never been later than two o’clock in the morning!”

  “Maybe he just had a flat tire or something. Look.” Bob stood up and began pacing the floor. “If he came home and found me here—well, I just don’t think I want to be around for that to happen.” Bob rubbed his jaw as the memory of the fight behind the school came to him. He made for the door.

  “Wait!” Lisa shouted in a voice that almost froze Bob. “There’s something else.”

  Bob walked back to his chair and eased himself down.

  Lisa looked at him and ran her teeth over her lower lip. “Tonight’s your night, right?”

  Bob was confused. “My night?”