The screen fades to black.
3rd February 2009. Underhill Military Base, Sublevel Four. 09:52
Colonel Richards’ eyes snapped open and he squinted against the harsh white glow of the fluorescent light. He tried to move, but the attempt sent white hot shards of agony through his body. He tried to speak, to call out, but his mouth was dry and his voice came out as little more than a croak.
A figure appeared, but he couldn’t focus his eyes. It was just a shape, holding a clipboard.
“Try not to move, Colonel,” said a soft, female voice with a welsh accent. “You’ll do yourself an injury.”
His mind swam, but he recognised the voice. Awareness and memory returned. Lindholme. He’d been at Lindholme and something had happened… Something…
It all came back to him and his eyes widened.
Rose Fisher leaned over him and smiled. “Ah, I see it’s all coming back to you now. Good. I was wondering if your mind had survived the trauma. Now you’re back with us, we can begin.”
Rose disappeared and he tried to move his head. He was restrained – arms, legs and head strapped down. Rose reappeared and gave him a reassuring smile. “There there, Colonel. Don’t try to speak.” She picked up a small tape recorder and pressed the record button. “This is Doctor Rose Fisher and the time is 09:55hrs on the third of February 2009. The subject has regained consciousness. We will now begin the experiment.”
9th February 2009. Kozara National Park, Bosnia. 09:52
John got out of the Land Rover and looked at the forest below him. There was no sign of civilisation. Nothing but towering pines and mountains extending as far as the eye could see. Marie got out of the driver’s side and embraced him, then placed a kiss on his lips.
“So,” he said, “this is where it all started. And this is where it ends.”
She gave him a small, sad smile. “Yeah, this is it. Home, or at least, it used to be.”
“Do you think you’ll be safe here?”
“It’s ours now. Steffan liquidated all of the pack’s assets. Every last penny of it. Michael had already made arrangements, a last resort if you like, and bought it from the Bosnian Government. It’s private property now and, to be honest, no one comes here anymore. They haven’t in decades. The legends keep the locals away, and there are warnings posted on the outskirts of the place about unexploded ordinance from the war. It’s as safe a place for us as there is, all things considered.”
John looked back along the trail to where the other vehicles were parked. People were already starting to disembark from the rag-tag procession of trucks, ancient 4x4s and cars. He made out Sharon Fletcher with young Matthew and returned a wave.
“Are you sure that this is the only way? We could hide in plain sight again. I doubt anyone will come looking for us after your warning. Fifty million hits on that video pretty much guarantees that your message got out there.”
She hugged him. “There’s no other way. Now at least, we are out of their world. There shouldn’t be any more moonstruck, and after we’ve been in the forest for a week or two, we won’t even remember that we were human. We’ll forget it all, and hopefully the world will forget us. We’ll fade back into legend. It’s better this way. We tried to live as humans and look what happened. It’s time we let the other side of us live the life it was supposed to. It’s better for everyone.”
John nodded, feeling his heart break. He’d been dreading this moment. He paused, then put his hands on Marie’s shoulders. “I can’t go with you, Marie.”
She pulled away. “What? Don’t be a fucking idiot. Why not?”
“Because I’m not like the rest of you. You turn into wolves. Big, monster bastard wolves, but wolves nevertheless. I don’t. And I can’t give myself over to the animal side of my nature. I’d be a monster. Once a moonstruck, always a moonstruck.”
“No! It won’t be like that, John. You have to come with us. I can’t lose you again. Not after everything.”
John leaned forward and kissed her, then pulled away. “In a week you won’t even remember me. And I can’t take that risk. I have to go.”
Marie threw herself into his arms, tears running down her cheeks and her body shuddering as he held him tight. He returned the embrace, relishing the feel of her in his arms. Inhaling the scent of her. Committing every last detail to memory. Then he pulled away.
“Goodbye, Marie. Be safe. I love you and I always will.”
John turned and walked back to the Land Rover. Marie stood and watched him open the door, then called out to him. “John, what will you do?”
He smiled. “I’ll think of something,” he said, and winked at her. Then he got into the vehicle, closed the door and drove away, back down the mountain without a backwards glance.
Epilogue
28th September 2015. Kozara National Park, Bosnia. 03:00
Walter Parker wiped the condensation from his glasses, then put them back on. “Are you sure this is the place, Joseph? Fifty thousand dollars is a lot of money by anyone’s reckoning.”
The full moon, stained blood red by the imminent lunar eclipse, hung in the sky to the east and, as if on cue, the forest began to echo with howls. Just one at first, but then answered by another, and another, until the cold night air was filled with their song.
Joseph seemed nervous. “Yes, you hear? This is the place, Mr Parker. You wanted the werewolves. We get you werewolves. We go now. Happy hunting.”
“You are not going anywhere. I have to say, I’m not even sure those permits you gave me were official. They didn’t have a stamp on them or anything. You are damn well staying here until I get what I came for.”
Joseph exchanged a furtive look with his companion – a small, greasy-looking man that Walter hadn’t been introduced to. “Mr Parker, are you sure you want to do this? These wolves… they are not like normal wolves. When you kill them, they change back. You aren’t going to be able to keep their heads as trophies. I think perhaps the people coming to your dentist’s office would be upset at a human head mounted on a plaque, yes? Come back with us. I will return your money and you go back to America. It… it is not safe here.”
Walter leaned forward and bared his perfect teeth at the Bosnian. “I have hunted big game all over the planet. One beast is pretty much like another. I don’t need a trophy. I’ll just take some shots of it for my Facebook page and then we’ll head home. But I didn’t come all this way to stop now. Do you understand, Joseph? Am I getting through to you?”
Joseph backed away a step, then spoke to his companion in a flurry of dialogue that Walter didn’t understand. His companion, however, seemed agitated. Walter picked up his hunting rifle and chambered a round. “We made a deal, Joseph. And I’m not going anywhere without my prize. And neither are you or your friend.”
“What good is fifty thousand American dollars if we are not alive to spend it? We should leave this cursed place and never return. It was a mistake to come here.”
“I agree with your friend,” said a voice from the darkness.
Walter raised his rifle and pointed it at where the voice had come from. “Who’s there? Show yourself, right now.”
A tall man stepped out from the shadows. He had four scars running across his face, and was wearing a thick pullover, but seemed to be unarmed. “This is private property. I don’t know what your friend, Joseph, told you, but there’s no hunting allowed here. I suggest you come with me and let me escort you back to your vehicles.”
Walter stepped forward until he was face to face with the stranger. “Look, Buddy, I don’t know who you are, but…”
The man smiled. “My name is John. I suppose you could say I’m the game warden here. I take care of things. Make sure the wildlife is protected. Make sure that people don’t trespass or hurt themselves. These woods can be… dangerous. Please, let me see you safely back to your car. I’d hate to see anything happen to you.”
Walter bristled at this. “I don’t care if you’re the goddamn Presid
ent of Bosnia himself. I am an American citizen and I paid good money to be able to hunt here. I’m not letting some limey son of a bitch tell me otherwise.”
The man smiled. “Then I suggest you ask Joseph and his friend for a refund. As I said, this is private property and you aren’t welcome here.”
Walter raised his rifle and pointed it at the man. “And what exactly are you going to do if I say no?”
The man’s grin widened and, for a moment, it looked like his eyes flashed green in the moonlight. “I was hoping you’d ask that.”
THE END
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THE HORRIFIC TALES PUBLISHING TEAM
About The Author
Graeme Reynolds has been called many things over the years, most of which are unprintable.
By day, he breaks computers for a living, but when the sun goes down he hunches over a laptop and thinks of new and interesting ways to offend people with delicate sensibilities.
http://www.graemereynolds.com
http://www.facebook.com/HighMoorNovel
@graemereynolds
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Table of Contents
A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR
HIGH MOOR 3: BLOODMOON
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
THANK YOU FOR READING
About The Author
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