Andy Deane

by The Sticks (epub)

  I rolled to the side and got to my feet in a hurry as the grinning bastard started moving toward me to finish what he'd started. Unfortunately for him, he'd underestimated me too. I'd been in plenty of tussles with guys far bigger than me who always seemed to think I'd be light work. Oops.

  As soon as he got within striking distance I threw a stiff right jab into his mouth that sent blood spraying all over me, Jeff and the ground around us. He swung back with a wild right hook, but I ducked it and knocked his feet out from under him with a sweeping right kick. He fell hard and loud, but jumped up a lot quicker than I expected and pushed me back about ten feet with a two-handed shove. I staggered but managed to keep my balance. He rubbed his left arm with his right hand for a moment and then smiled at me as if he'd let me in on a secret. His teeth were a little too large and sharp for the mouth that held them, and I noticed that he had a pretty serious limp as he came forward. And his left arm was hanging at his side as if it were broken. When he got close to me again I kicked his right knee, and this time when the bastard fell he stayed down. But he never stopped smiling.

  "Boy, you better get in that car and drive your sorry ass back home, because you have just opened up a world of trouble for yourself," he said, spitting blood with every syllable.

  "Shut up and pick your teeth out of the dirt."

  "You get on out of here now. I got no answers for you, but I do have a couple of great surprises coming up pretty soon. That girl you're seeing is mighty fine…" His grin grew even larger between his bloodied lips.

  He threw me off with that last part. Did he really know about Jessica or was he just tossing out empty threats to try and scare me? I wasn't positive, but nothing in his mannerisms pointed to a bluff. Either way, I kept my mouth shut so I wouldn't give up any information he might use to hurt Jessica.

  He spoke again in a gravely tone, "Oh, and I'd suggest that she learn how to drive. That little lady might end up killing someone out there on the highway one day." He smiled again, his mouth open too wide for his face, and spit a red loogey at my feet.

  I walked over and kicked him in the chin with a leg full of anger, rolling him onto his stomach where he lay holding his face.

  I kept a close eye on him as I walked back to the Mustang. Before I pulled off, he started laughing and said that he'd be seeing me soon.

  Somehow, I knew this wasn't an empty threat.

  As I drove home, I started forming ideas I wasn't too keen on. But I was making a connection that was hard to deny. Through everything I'd dealt with in the week leading up to the showdown with Jeff, I'd somehow been able to keep the folder titled "werewolf" hidden safely in a dusty cabinet in the back of my mind.

  When Jeff came out of his house favoring his right leg, I flashed back to running into the creature on the highway then watching it limp off into the woods. And when Jeff stared me down with his fire-blue eyes I couldn't help but remember the long look that thing had given me before running off. The sharp teeth…the injured arm…the comment about Jessica hitting someone on the road…

  If this guy really was what I thought he might be, I needed to be ready for whatever he threw my way. He was good and pissed in human form when I left him bleeding in the dirt, and that was his nice side. What lay ahead for me was a heap of shit no matter how you cut, fried or saut?ed it.

  I got to my place and immediately jumped in the shower, standing beneath the steaming hot water until I was the color of a sun-burnt fire truck. I didn't get out until the water turned cold.

  I wiped steam from the mirror with my towel and took a close look at my battered eye. It was four shades of black and blue, and some swelling had joined the team as well. I knew Jessica was going to be pissed, and she had reason to be. She'd warned me about what would happen if I went over to Jeff's place half cocked, and I hadn't listened. But she didn't know just how big a mess I'd gotten us into. I'd basically placed the two of us in the middle of the woods with squirt guns and a fire burning on all sides.

  CHAPTER 14

  "God damn it! What in the hell did you think you were going to accomplish? I fucking told you that Jeff was nothing but trouble, but no, you had to be the big dog and go digging around in someone else's yard. So now what? Are you guys planning a duel to the death later in the month on pay-per-view? Because I'm sure as hell not going to whip out my Visa for that one!"

  I kept my chin tucked to my chest through Jessica's entire lecture then tried to calm her down whenever she stopped to breathe. But she wouldn't hear a word I had to say. On her way out of her own house she slammed the door so hard I thought the wood had split. She yelled something through the door about being home late and me not needing to wait up.

  The feud we'd had that evening was our first, and while it was happening I really felt like Jessica and I were a couple. I mean, this type of argument just doesn't happen between friends, and maybe that's why friends tend to stay friends a lot longer than lovers stay lovers. The worst part was, I was having the arguments but getting none of the sex. All yin. No yang. Now don't get me wrong, I was loving Jessica's company even without the sex, it's just that I hadn't thought of us as a couple until the fight; speaks volumes about how most of my past relationships have gone. When a good-looking girl screams at me and storms out of the room, I know I'm either in love or getting there fast.

  I felt like hell for letting her down, but there was no way I could've let Alicia's disappearance go unsolved without a fight. No matter what happened, or how deep a hole I dug for myself, I was going to find out what happened to her.

  I used my time alone that night to consider just how I was going to explain to Jessica my theory about Jeff being a werewolf. Even thinking such a thing seemed ridiculous, but there it was. I didn't want to force her into being a part of this madness, but it appeared to be a little late for that. After a few long hours of worrying I drifted off to sleep.

  I woke the next morning to Jessica shaking me, and then bending down and kissing me on the forehead. The affection came as a real shock after the verbal lashing she'd thrown my way the night before. That was the first time her lips had ever touched me, and it made me a little dizzy. And knowing that I have a tendency to fuck things up beyond belief with the simple act of opening my mouth, I lay on the sofa quietly looking up at her with a smile that would have shamed a puppy.

  "Yeah, you're out of the doghouse. And I gotta tell you, I did some major thinking while I was out last night and I came to some conclusions. Though I was pissed at you, I think I was also just pissed off at men in general. I've been in quite a few relationships and I've always done my damnedest to treat my guy with the kind of respect I think a person deserves. But you men, you always manage to get your dicks in a knot and screw things up. I mean, half the time you guys bolt because you're feeling tied down. And if that doesn't happen you're out chasing pussy before the first anniversary. I swear, if I lost a finger every time a guy fucked around behind my back I'd be asking you to brush my teeth and wipe my ass for me. My point is, I'm really starting to like you, and even though this might not be the time for me to say so, I can see this going somewhere. Don't go getting yourself killed before I get a chance to find out."

  I took a few seconds to digest everything I'd just heard, and managed to spit out, "Ohhhh." Sometimes I think I should've been a poet.

  Jessica looked at me like I'd lost my mind and said, "That's it? I spend all night getting my thoughts in line and all I get is two letters in response?"

  "That 'oh' had four h's in it."

  Jess cocked her head and grinned at me.

  I gathered myself in a hurry and said, "Sorry, I'm just blown away. I mean, I have to admit that I'm pretty crazy about you. I just had no idea that you felt the same way. So yeah, let's see where this goes."

  "You really didn't know I was crushing on you? See, that's another thing…"

  "What?"

  "You men are fucking clueless."

  "Does this mean I'm not sleeping on the couch tonight or what
?"

  "Don't push your luck, cowboy. First let's see how well you behave yourself." Then she flashed the smile that had hooked me in the first place.

  We spent the day together. We went out to eat, saw a movie, went out to eat again, went by the video store to grab a couple of films for the night and then made our way back to her place. Basically, we were doing anything we could do to avoid bringing up the horrible subject of J-E-F-F. And it was working. We were having a lot of fun doing next to nothing, and during the second film we even held hands.

  As darkness began to blanket the sky, Bronson made a sound like a miniature tiger gone mad to let us know that it was time for food. I picked the little fellow up and carried him to the kitchen. I opened four cabinets before resigning myself to the fact that there wasn't a single nugget of cat food anywhere in the house.

  "Hey Jess," I said as she entered the room, "we need to head back downtown for cat food before Bronson shrivels up and dies."

  Jessica smiled at me and said, "Who's this 'we' you're talking about? I'm done with town for the day and I'm about to take a long, hot shower. You're a big boy. You can do what you need to without me."

  "Yeah, but it'd be more fun with you along."

  Jess didn't respond, which meant I was flying solo. I had absolutely no desire to drive downtown, so I decided to go to my place for Bronson's chow since I had the better part of a bag left over. It was a shorter drive, and beat the hell out of standing in a long line of suburbanites for such a small purchase.

  I headed down the road in the coughing Mustang, thinking about what a great day I'd had and just how shitty the day before had been. Lately it seemed like life was either hot or cold for me with no middle ground whatsoever.

  I needed to start preparing for whatever Jeff had in mind for me. The problem was I had no idea where to even begin. I'd seen plenty of werewolf films in my time but assumed that most of what was in them was made up. Until a few days back I'd thought that all the shit in those films was made up. It's not easy to start believing in something you've considered a myth your whole life. But now I was in werewolf land where the rules had been turned upside down and anything was possible. I half expected Santa to show up in the living room when December rolled around. Probably with a fucking ax, knowing my luck, but still, at that point it would've been preferable to dealing with what I was sure was coming for me sooner or later.

  I decided to try to locate some silver bullets. There was a chance that Jeff would never show his face around me again. He might have just threatened Jessica and me because a guy six inches his inferior put him face down in the dirt. But then there was a better chance that he meant business and wasn't going to let our confrontation end there in front of his house. And there was also the distinct possibility that he had a part time position as a flesh eating monster. That part was really unnerving.

  My house stood lonely and dark in the shadow of two tall oaks that I had long feared would demolish the place the first time lightning decided to meet one of them head on. I pulled the Mustang into the driveway and stepped out feeling a little edgy at having spent the drive thinking of a wolf-man trying to eat me. I really wished I had left a light on somewhere in the house. Hell, I wanted my mommy.

  I unlocked the door and walked into the musty darkness. It smelled like I had left pizza or Chinese food out somewhere, and I wouldn't have been surprised to find either. I walked to the light switch and flipped it up. Nothing. I figured the bulb had burned out, so I made my way blindly to the kitchen where once again I flipped a switch north. Again, nothing. I started getting nervous. Not quite panicked or paralyzed by fear, but a little wary of what I'd see when I found a light switch that worked.

  I felt my way along the wall toward the bedroom where once again I tried a light switch to no avail. Then it struck me, a breaker must have flipped and I was getting scared over nothing. I started walking toward the breaker box in the kitchen, but stopped short to give one last attempt at something working. I went to the couch and ran my hand over the arm until I found the television remote. I picked it up and hit the tiny button in the top right corner that I knew read "power" in small red letters. The screen jumped to life and my eyes squinted shut at the sudden light. The sound of white static filled the room like a cheering crowd.

  I looked around the room as my eyes adjusted to the light. At first it seemed that nothing had been disturbed. But as my vision cleared I noticed some broken glass on the floor in the middle of the room. It wasn't obvious what had created the small pile of broken shards until I looked at the ceiling. The light bulb had been broken off and the metal part that screws into the socket was still there, ready to electrocute anyone dumb enough to jam a finger in its mouth.

  This was no accident, and I had a sneaking suspicion that if I could see clearly in the kitchen and bedroom that there would be similar piles of fragmented glass in both of them. Now that whole panicked and paralyzed by fear thing started to set in on me. I didn't know what move to make because I didn't know if whoever or whatever had done this was inside the house or outside waiting to ambush me if I bolted for the car.

  The one thing I was fairly confident about was that Jeff was involved somehow. I tapped the mute button on the remote to kill the loud, cheering-crowd static, then slid the remote into my pocket and stood still listening for a sign of anyone else in the house. As if on cue something moved in the bedroom. I looked around the living room for a weapon, but the best thing I found was my oversized Pittsburgh Steelers mug sitting on the floor by the couch. I picked it up by the handle, ready to smash the intruder's head in if I needed to.

  As I moved slowly toward the bedroom, I thought about how much better I'd feel if I was in the bedroom and whatever was shuffling around in there was out here. My.44 was in my bedside drawer and though the mug could do a good bit of damage I figured the gun could do quite a lot more. The mug didn't stand a chance of "removing the shadows." And it would be really horrible if whoever was in there had found the.44 and knew how to use it. It was loaded and ready, and though I loved that gun like a son, it didn't give two shits whose blood it happened to send all over the walls on any given night.

  Then I heard another sound coming from the bleak darkness of my room. A strained and hoarse voice whispered unintelligible words that raked through my soul. It kept repeating something from its hiding place in the shadows, but I couldn't make out the words. My blood turned to ice and I could feel it moving through me like a virus. My muscles stiffened in anticipation of an attack. My body was telling me that there was something horrible in that room and that I should stay the hell away, but once again instinct lost a battle against my curiosity.

  I took slow steps toward the open door of the bedroom. I felt like a teenager in a slasher film who has a seemingly ridiculous need to investigate something he should be avoiding like a coughing leper. But I think horror movie characters hold a lot of truth in their actions. Human curiosity will kick fear's ass nine times out of ten in the real world. We'd have never seen the earth from the moon if it didn't.

  As I stepped closer, the tone of the voice became more familiar. The words were still indecipherable, like a celebrity on the radio when the reception's bad. Closer. I found myself standing in the mouth of the open door peering inside to try and cut the darkness. The thing inside whispered again making my heart sink, and through all my fear I felt the tug of sympathy. The word that was being repeated was my name.

  "Hello? Are you okay?" I called out into the blackness as fear put a cold hand around my heart and squeezed. The voice ignored me and kept repeating my barely recognizable name over and over. It sounded as though it were sobbing between the words. The voice sped the words along, repeating faster and more desperately until the end of my name was touching the beginning in a maddening circle.

  "Hey, are you alright?" I asked again louder than before. And this time the voice went silent. The quiet was much, much scarier than the voice.

  And then it spoke again, more clearly
, "Help me," and whoever was in that room started to cry, one of the most mournful sounds I've ever heard.

  I whispered, "Who's there?" terrified that I might actually get an answer.

  "Brian, run," came the reply in a tortured, distorted feminine voice. "Run for God's sake!"

  Something fell near the bed and I nearly leapt from my skin. Whatever was in the room was moving frantically. I could hear my possessions falling to the floor. I took a defensive position, my fist balled tightly around the mug handle as I slowly stepped backwards.

  I jumped when the thing in the room started screaming. Sounds like breaking sticks and tearing fabric soon joined the horrible cries. I continued backing away from the doorway as the snapping and tearing grew louder, and I could hear the thing moaning in pain.

  And then the noise suddenly stopped.

  Silence filled the house for a moment.

  A guttural snarl erupted, and I took off toward the kitchen to find a weapon. I opened the drawer where my butcher knives live and frantically yanked out the largest of three. The sound of glass shattering startled me, and I dropped the knife on the floor. I retrieved it and stood breathing heavily, waiting for whatever had been in the bedroom to charge into the kitchen. To my surprise, a long minute passed and nothing attacked. The house became still and quiet again.

  I lowered my knife, went to the junk drawer and started rifling through it in the hopes of finding an abandoned flashlight or a candle and matches. Luck was with me as my fingers gripped the head of a plastic miniature flashlight. In the dim light from the TV I could see the flashlight had a picture of Cap'n Crunch on the handle. I couldn't recall having ever seen the thing before, but I was happy it was there nonetheless. I threw a quick prayer to any gods who might be tuned in that the batteries were good as I tapped the switch. A weak, yellowish beam of light landed on the opposite wall.