Andy Deane

by The Sticks (epub)

  As I got closer I could see Jeff's face more clearly in the moonlight, and something disturbing caught my eye. It looked as though he was starting to take on some wolf-like features…permanently. His left ear was pointed and much longer than the right. It was also hairier than a she-hippie's crotch. His eyes had turned a brilliant glowing yellow and his teeth were even longer and sharper than the last time I'd seen him.

  The worst part of it all was still the damned turtleneck. The big, dumb bastard was wearing the same blue turtleneck he'd had on at the party, except now it was riddled with holes and stains. Werewolf or weresissy, Jeff just couldn't seem to make up his mind. And it was sort of insulting to me as well. Here I was playing out what was by far the greatest drama of my life and the goddamned antagonist had a turtleneck on. Fate likes to shit in my cereal.

  I stopped ten feet from Jeff and Susan. His fingers were over six inches long and armed with ragged claws. Hair covered the backs of his hands, and I figured the wanker's palms were furry too. He had Susan by the neck with his left hand while his right rested on her shoulder.

  "Alright, Jeff, let her go and let's settle this," I said.

  "You ain't makin' the rules here, boy, so I'd just watch the tone if I were you."

  "Fine. You said you'd let her go if I came over here, so let her go."

  "You know what's about to happen, boy, and let me assure you, the side effects of this infection of mine are a real bitch. When this thing's done running its course on me and I got no idea who I am anymore, I want to make damn sure I brought a few friends along for the ride. Maybe we can start our own pack or something. Howl at the moon together." Jeff laughed and looked at me as if he expected me to get the joke.

  "Look man, you need to get some help. Let the girl go and follow me back and let's see about getting you better."

  In truth, I just wanted him far enough away from Susan so I could lodge a bullet in his gut.

  "Go to hell, boy," he spat back at me, "I ain't gonna be nobody's lab rat. Oh no, you're coming with me. Got it?"

  Then Jeff shoved Susan to the turf and lunged at me. I fired a shot through my pocket just before he hit me and sent him stumbling backward onto the ground. I yelled for Susan to run, which she'd already taken the initiative to do on her own. I could hear her screaming for her mom and dad behind me as she fled the scene.

  I kept my attention fixed on Jeff the entire time, wondering if I'd fatally wounded him. Then the bastard started changing. And I don't mean trading a blue turtleneck for a red one or anything that mild. But the turtleneck did tear off of him as his torso expanded and he rolled onto his back. He had a panicked look in his yellow eyes and his breathing was labored and fast.

  I noticed just how bad the scars on his neck were and was pretty sure he wouldn't have lived through his own werewolf attack had the thing not infected him. A couple of the jagged red gashes were deep enough to sink a thumb into and ran from one side of his neck to the other. Now I knew that Jeff didn't just wear turtlenecks because he thought they were pretty. Still, that was no excuse for the colors he'd picked out. Maybe he'd found them on sale.

  I pulled the.44 from my pocket to end Jeff's misery. He looked defenseless and pathetic lying there and I almost felt guilty about what I was about to do. But I wouldn't have time to finish the job.

  Out of nowhere, the son of a bitch rolled toward me, grabbed my leg and threw my feet out from under me. I hit the ground hard and lost my gun in the process. I almost bent to gather it, but managed to keep my head on straight and prepared to defend myself instead. It's a damned good thing I did, because if I had bent down for that gun I would have been a sitting duck for Jeff.

  Jeff dove on me in the blink of an eye, knocking me onto my back and forcing his weight on top of me to pin me to the ground. His face was stranded somewhere between human and animal, more horrifying than my worst nightmares. Jeff lunged forward and tried to bite my face. I grabbed his throat with my left hand just in time to keep his teeth away from me. He kept snapping his jaws like he thought a piece of me might somehow accidentally get stuck in his mouth.

  Then I heard twigs snapping and paper tearing. Jeff was making the seemingly painful transformation into a werewolf as we struggled, and I think it's the only thing that saved me. I could feel his bones breaking and stretching as they took on new shapes and larger proportions. Jeff was inexplicably getting heavier by the second, as if he were filling up with lead. His skin became leathery as it sprouted coarse fur all over. Jeff's muscles swam around beneath his skin like snakes. His eyes studied me, and I think he enjoyed knowing I was repulsed by his transformation.

  And then all of a sudden, Jeff stopped fighting. I wondered for a moment if he'd bled out from the shot that had hit him, but didn't give that theory much credit. In my gut I knew that one shot wasn't going to kill this thing. His stillness reminded me of how quiet it gets before a big storm hits. I had this feeling that something huge was coming, like what I'd already seen was just the shitty warm-up act and the headliner was about to take the stage.

  He still had me trapped against the earth by his massive weight, but he was no longer slashing at me with his claws. His palms were flat on the ground on both sides of my chest as if he were doing push-ups. Werepush-ups.

  I took advantage of the break in the action to reach for my gun. I could barely touch the butt with my fingers, so I kept trying to get out from under the heavy bastard by lunging with all my weight to the right. It would have been a lot easier if I'd had both my hands free, but there was no way I was letting go of his neck. No way in hell.

  By my third lunge I'd earned myself about half an inch and was able to start working the gun closer to me. Then clarity jumped back into Jeff's demonic eyes and he started roaring. It was definitely a roar as opposed to a scream, as there was very little in that sound that reminded me of a human voice.

  His face started cracking and snapping and some blood ran out of his nose onto my neck. His cheeks collapsed inwards and his forehead sank down into his skull. It sounded like wood splitting. His nose and mouth seemed to gather together and started extending from the rest of his face to form a snout as his teeth continued to grow from his gums. My grip on his widening neck tightened, and by the time his face was done expanding his teeth were only an inch or two from my face. Hot saliva dripped from his open mouth and ran down my face. His breath smelled like week-old road kill.

  His roaring didn't let up, and I was waiting for him to stop to breathe, but what eventually shut him up was a bullet through the shoulder. After my ninth or tenth lunge toward the pistol I got a good handle on it and tried to fire a shot into his brain. But I was a half a second too slow and he was able to grab my hand and shift my aim just enough to keep his cranium sealed. I'm just lucky the shot hit him at all. If I'd missed I'd have been dog food. Jeff had been growing stronger and stronger as he transformed, and I wouldn't have been able to fight him off much longer.

  He fell away and I scrambled backwards and rose to my knees to fire at him again. But he was far too fast for me to get off another shot. I saw the beast heading back into the woods before completely losing sight of it.

  Then I heard a voice coming from somewhere behind me. It was Nate, who came running onto the field.

  "What the hell happened? Is Susan alright?" he asked as he got near to me.

  It took a lot for me to speak. "Yeah, she's probably home by now."

  "Jesus Christ, thank God. I heard a gun," said Nate. He took a close look at me and realized just how bad a shape I was in. He took my arm and led me back toward the house without another word. I felt like throwing up my dinner the entire way but managed to keep it in my stomach through sheer willpower. The trip back was pretty hazy for me, but I assume that's normal for most werewolf attack victims.

  Once Nate had everyone inside he locked the door and asked me what exactly had happened. I made my way to the couch on steadier legs and gave him the story straight, minus the part about Jeff's transformation. To e
veryone listening it probably sounded like Jeff was an ordinary madman. How boring. But the werewolf-free dialogue went a lot further to keeping me in the "sane guy" column.

  "Why in the world did you have a gun on you?" Nate asked once I'd told my story.

  "Because of Jeff. I knew the crazy son of a bitch was on the loose and that he was holding a grudge against yours truly. When I said I was going to the car to get my coat I was really after the piece, just to play it safe."

  "And it's a damned good thing you did. Do you think he'll make it out of the woods or do you think he'll end up out there collecting bugs?" asked Nate.

  "I shot him once in the shoulder and once in the chest. If he is alive I doubt he's moving too good right now."

  "I hope the son of a bitch is dead, but either way I hope the cops get here soon."

  "I'm with you on that one. The more good guys here with guns the better."

  Then Nate's eyes got big and I knew something wasn't right.

  "Holy shit, Brian, you're bleeding," he said.

  I looked down and went cold. It was then that I noticed for the first time that the lower half of my shirt was wet with blood. I lifted my shirt, and sure enough, that werewolf son of a bitch had delivered a gash that ran from my appendectomy scar all the way to the left side of my chest. It didn't look like a very serious wound, but it wasn't death I was worried about.

  "Yeah," I said as I attempted to gather my composure, "I guess I didn't notice that happen with all the excitement."

  "Well, let me get you a towel and a clean shirt," said Nate with a look of heavy concern on his face.

  "Thanks, Nate."

  Nate left the room and came back with a couple of small towels and a dark green T-shirt.

  "Sorry, I don't have any black shirts. Looks like you're going to have to wear some color for the rest of the day."

  I laughed as I rose to go clean up in the bathroom. It hurt to laugh.

  I stared at my pale face in the mirror, a feeling of sinking dread settling in the pit of my stomach. A faint voice inside me wanted nothing more than to eat the barrel of my pistol and end my life. According to the movies I'd seen, there was a strong possibility that I was now a werewolf, and that I'd be getting a hankering for human flesh in the near future. An old clich? came to mind; we always hurt the ones we love most. It made me think of Jess, and what my new situation could mean for the two of us. My heart sank into a dark, bleak place within me, and it was all I could do to hold back my tears.

  I removed my shirt and threw it in the waste bin by the toilet. I took one of the white towels Nate had given me and wet it in the sink. Then I began to wipe the bright red blood from my body, the wound burning where the towel touched it. I looked closely at the gash to see if it was healing up unnaturally fast, but I couldn't decide one way or the other. The paranoid part of me thought there should be more blood.

  Nate's shirt was tight on me, but it felt good to have on something clean and dry. I sat on the toilet for another minute or two to gather myself before Jess came walking into the room with a look of deep concern on her face.

  "Brian, are you okay?"

  "I think so. But you know, this time I almost didn't make it back in one piece. Jeff's gone mad, wanted to turn me into one of those goddamned monsters. I almost died, Jess."

  "Well, you did make it back, and you're alive, and right now I feel like we should be thankful for that."

  "Yeah, but I still feel like an asshole for dragging Nate and his family into this. I mean, Jess, I almost got his kids killed."

  "You didn't do anything, Brian. This was all Jeff. And don't forget that."

  "Seems like I've spent the better part of my life dragging everyone I know into one load of crap or another. I just can't get a fucking break."

  Jess gave me a pity-smile.

  "We should go see how everyone's holding up," I said. "The cops should be here soon."

  Jess put her hand on my shoulder as I stood, and we headed back to the living room where everyone sat waiting for the police to arrive.

  I had a hunch the cops wouldn't find much aside from some spilled blood on the ground, but I couldn't say as much to Nate. Within a few minutes Matheson was knocking on the door with four officers who looked like teenagers in tow. One of the kid-cops had a big angry looking German shepherd attached to his arm by a chain that seemed more than ready to start hunting Jeff. I figured that dog would be a lot less eager to start searching if it knew Jeff was a big, angry werewolf. I watched the dog closely, wondering if it would sense something wrong with me, something unnatural. Thankfully, the dog paid me no mind.

  Matheson came in with two of the officers and started asking questions while the other two cops stayed outside with the barking dog. The dog seemed more eager than any of us to go after the bad guy.

  "Brian. Was that Jeff out there that attacked you and the girl?" asked Matheson.

  "Yeah. He's in real bad shape. Looks like he's been living out in the woods since he broke out of jail. I shot him twice. I think the first one got him in the chest. The second one hit him in the shoulder."

  "What kind of gun you packing?"

  "It's a.44."

  "Well that should have done a powerful job of messing the ol' boy up. Let's hope he's dead by now so we can get back to enjoying our quiet, small town. What was he wearing anyway?"

  "He had on a light blue turtleneck. Ummm, but he uhhhh, tore it off before he came after me." I knew it sounded lame when I said it, but I didn't know how else to explain the fact that the shirt would still be lying on the forest floor torn all to hell.

  "Tore it off?" asked Matheson. "Why in the name of God would he do that?"

  "I don't know. Maybe he's gone crazy."

  Matheson studied me for a moment without speaking. I think he could smell the bullshit I was shoveling out, and knew I was hiding something from him. But there was no way in hell I was going to give him the complete, true story.

  "Well, crazy or not, we have to go find the bastard before he tries to hurt someone else. This time I'll lock him up tighter than a nun's asshole and throw away the key. I wouldn't mind kicking his ass a little myself for all my trouble."

  Matheson got what he needed to know out of me and then asked that I lead him back to the scene of the confrontation. I was feeling fine to walk, so I handed Nate my gun and led the policemen outside.

  I felt like a complete idiot for heading back into the woods, police escort or not. The horror movie fan in me knew that no amount of police protection or guns in the world ever stops a monster that sets its mind on killing. But I walked side by side with Matheson the whole way, and did my best to keep from shivering with fear. I know he could see I was shaken up, because he asked me several times if I was sure I wanted to keep going. Small animals crept through the brush all around us, and occasionally a bird would call from the treetops. Neither was a comfort to me.

  As expected, our search came up empty save for some blood and shredded cloth that had once been a blue turtleneck. Jeff seemed to have more fashion sense when he was in wolf-mode. Matheson left instructions for his men to rope off the area and gather all the evidence up before we headed back to the house.

  "You sure you're okay, Brian? You look like a man who's seen the Devil and lived to tell about it."

  "Well, yeah, I guess I've just been through a tough few weeks. I was really scared for Susan. I thought Jeff was going to kill her right there in front of me."

  Matheson studied my face again, trying to read between the lines to unlock my secrets. I averted my eyes to the floor and kept my mouth shut.

  "You go on and get some sleep now. We're gonna get the damned chopper out and try to find the bastard. If the slugs hit him where you say they hit him then he can't have gone far. Son of a bitch," said Matheson with no confidence in his voice. He was growing more and more frustrated by this mess, and he didn't know the half of it. On top of everything else, it was possible that before long he'd have an extra man-eating werewolf
to contend with…me.

  "In any case, I'm parking a couple of my guys outside the house here for a few hours in case Jeff tries for an encore." Matheson gave a reassuring nod before leaving through the front door.

  Nate looked like he had aged ten years since Jess and I had arrived that evening, and I was feeling the sting of guilt at having brought this situation down on him and his family. Natalie was sitting on the couch between the kids holding them close to her sides. The room was thick with silence when I spoke.

  "Nate, I'm so sorry about all of this. I feel like hell for putting your kids in harm's way. If I had known this could happen I would have never come."

  Nate looked at me with tears and a touch of anger in his eyes and said, "It's not your fault, Brian. You're just caught up in some crazy stuff right now. You should think about leaving town for a while. If you need money, just ask. Natalie and I would be more than happy to help the two of you any way we can." Natalie lifted her head and nodded in my direction, her face also appearing to conceal some hint of anger.

  "Thanks a lot, you guys, but we'll be okay. We just need a day or so to figure out what to do next. Maybe leaving is our best bet. Hopefully the cops will catch this guy tonight and this whole mess will be over."

  "Well, even if it is over and done, you guys look like you could use a vacation," said Nate, still seeming to hold something back.

  Then I caught something in Nate's eye that let me know what he was really trying to say, and though it hurt, I understood. Jess and I were no longer welcome here, and I figured we might not ever be.