The Howling h-1

by Gary Brandner

"Karyn, I'm serious. We've been friends long enough so that I shouldn't have to play games. I think you should have another doctor examine you."

  "Dr. Volkmann is a good doctor."

  Chris started to say something more, then seemed to think better of it. "I'm sorry I missed Roy. We must have passed each other on the freeway."

  "I don't think so. Roy drove in yesterday."

  "And left you here alone?"

  "It didn't matter. I had a nice young couple for company."

  "Overnight?"

  "No, they had to leave."

  Chris shook his head slowly, but said nothing. He made several more attempts to kindle a conversation, but Karyn found it hard to concentrate on his words. She felt one step removed from everything that was happening. In a way it was a comfortable feeling, but in the depths of her consciousness she knew something was very wrong.

  After a while they ran out of words and Chris moved toward the door. "I guess I might as well be heading back to L.A."

  Karyn rose to walk out with him. She looked into his eyes and saw herself reflected in the pupils. There was something she would like to tell him, but it seemed too much trouble to put into words. For some reason a tear formed in the corner of one eye and rolled down her cheek.

  Chris took a step toward her. "You're not well. Let me take you to a doctor in Los Angeles."

  She shook her head without saying anything. The tears came freely.

  "Karyn, please, you've got to let me help you." He reached out to her, grasping her shoulders, and pulled her against him.

  Since the day she had been assaulted in the apartment no man but her husband had touched Karyn. Now, through some trick of the mind, she was back there. The gentle face of her friend Chris Halloran twisted and changed like a rubber mask into the foul leering thing that had attacked her. Chris's hand on her shoulders became the rough, grasping hands of the rapist. She pulled her head back to look into his face. He was saying something, but all she could see were his teeth. Teeth like those that had torn the flesh of her thigh and left her scarred down there.

  "Get away from me!" she cried. "Get away! Don't touch me, you filthy animal!"

  Instantly Chris pulled his hands away and stepped back. "Karyn, what's the matter with you? What are you saying?"

  She balled her hand into a fist and swung at him. In his astonishment, Chris made no move to avoid the blow, and her fist smacked into the corner of his mouth, slicking his lip with blood.

  He seized her wrists. "Have you gone crazy?"

  "You'd better get out of here," she said, her voice rising hysterically. "If my husband finds you here he'll kill you."

  Chris touched the corner of his mouth and looked at the blood on his fingertips. "All right, dammit, enough. I don't know what's happening to you up here, Karyn, but if this is the way you want it, it's your business. Excuse the intrusion."

  He sidestepped her and shouldered out through the door. Karyn heard the car door slam. The engine roared to life and the Camaro spun away in an angry burst of gravel.

  For several minutes she stood by the door, breathing raggedly, feeling her heart pound. The fog that had clouded her mind throughout the day had been shredded by Chris's sudden anger. She walked into the bathroom and ran the cold water. She caught it in her cupped hands and dashed it into her face. The cold shock helped to clear her head even more. She looked into the mirror and saw the pale, unkempt creature Chris had seen. What had come over her to act the way she had? For a terrible few seconds Chris had seemed to become the rapist. She had screamed at him, hit him, sent him away. What was happening to her?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Karyn took a long steaming-hot shower, then forced herself to stand for twenty seconds while the water sprayed icy cold. She rubbed her body dry with a big rough towel and went out to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. While it percolated she put on a clean pair of jeans and a light sweater. She drank the coffee black and strong, then brushed her teeth until her gums tingled. For the first time in days her body began to feel strong, her mind clear, with only traces of cobwebs. It was two o'clock when she left the house and walked briskly down the lane toward Drago.

  By the time she had reached the blacktopped main street Karyn's legs ached from the unaccustomed activity after days of little exercise. Still, she felt refreshed and alert. The scent of the pines washed out her lungs as she swung down the drab street. Some movement down the street on the other side caught her eye, and she slowed her pace.

  A tow truck was pulled up there in front of a metallic-blue van. The driver was out of the truck attaching a cable to the front of the van. Something stirred in Karyn's memory. She walked over to where the tow-truck driver stood between the two vehicles.

  "Are you towing this van away?"

  "That's right. You the owner?"

  "No, but I think I know who is. Why are you taking it?"

  "The Highway Patrol got an abandoned-vehicle report. When that happens we pull 'em in."

  "Where did the report come from?"

  The driver pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. "Report phoned in by Anton Gadak. You know him?"

  "I know him. Is he around?"

  "He was here a few minutes ago to sign the towaway order. I think he went in the tavern up the street there."

  Karyn hesitated for a moment. This was really none of her business. Yet in a way it was. She had liked young Neal Edwards and Pam Sealander. She thanked the tow-truck driver for the information and walked up the street toward the tavern where he had said Anton Gadak could be found.

  It was dark inside. Most of the overhead bulbs were burned out, and the flickering beer signs behind the bar only deepened the shadows. The air was stale with old beer, the floor gritty beneath her feet. Karyn stood for a moment inside the door until her eyes adjusted to the gloom.

  Anton Gadak sat midway along the bar with a glass of beer in front of him. On the next stool sat a paunchy man in overalls. They were the only customers. The bartender sat dozing in a wooden chair at the far end of the bar.

  Karyn walked up behind Gadak and cleared her throat. "Excuse me."

  The big man swiveled on his stool and looked at her. He touched the brim of his Stetson. "Afternoon, Mrs. Beatty."

  "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

  "Go ahead."

  The man sitting next to Gadak got up and walked back to the men's room without looking at Karyn.

  "What's on your mind?" said Gadak.

  "There's a truck out in the street getting ready to tow away a van."

  "That so?"

  "The driver said you signed the order to have it towed away."

  "Said that did he?"

  Sudden anger gave heat to Karyn's words. "Is there some reason you don't want to talk about it?"

  Gadak's tolerant smile faded. "Suppose you tell me why you're so interested, Mrs. Beatty."

  "I think I know the people who own the van."

  "That's interesting. There was no registration slip in the thing. It was breakin' the law parked the way it was, so I had it towed away."

  "Don't you want to know who the owner is?"

  "Makes no difference to me. Somebody comes looking for it, I'll tell 'em where they can pick it up. It ain't my job to find them."

  Karyn held back a sharp retort. If Anton Gadak knew more than he was telling, and she felt sure he did, it would serve no purpose to anger the man.

  "Thank you," she said coolly, and turned to walk out of the stale-smelling tavern. Outside the tow truck and the van were gone. Karyn crossed the street and went into the Jolivets' store.

  Oriole greeted her enthusiastically. "Hey, Karyn, you're a sight for sore eyes. How you feeling?"

  "Much better, Oriole. Thanks."

  "Maybe we can get in a few hands of gin today. I tell you it's been mighty dull around here the last three days."

  "I don't think I'm quite up to playing cards yet," Karyn said. "What I'd like is to use your phone, if it's all right."<
br />
  "Help yourself. I'll be back in a minute."

  When Oriole had gone out through the rear of the store to give Karyn privacy, Karyn riffled through the thin local phone book, praying that Inez Polk was listed. To her relief, the number was there. She picked up the phone and dialed.

  Please be home, Inez. Please answer the phone.

  "Hello?"

  At the sound of Inez' voice Karyn wanted to cry out with joy. She willed herself to be calm.

  "Inez, this is Karyn Beatty."

  "Oh, yes, how are you, Karyn?"

  Keeping her eye on the door leading to the back room, Karyn went on in a low tone. "Right now I'm not too good. I want to tell you first off that I'm terribly sorry for the way I acted the other night."

  "Don't give it a thought. Your reaction was mild compared to some."

  "Just the same, I was rude, and now I'm seeing things differently."

  "Something has happened?"

  "I don't want to go into it over the phone. Can you come to my place?"

  "I have a meeting at the school here tonight, but if it's urgent I could miss it."

  "It's not really that urgent, I guess."

  "How about tomorrow?"

  "That will be fine. And, Inez…"

  "Yes?"

  "Those books and things you told me about… would you bring them?"

  "I'll bring them. Karyn, are you in any danger?"

  "No, it's… I don't think so. I'll tell you about it tomorrow."

  Karyn hung up the phone and started to turn. She jumped as she saw Etienne Jolivet standing a few feet away, watching her.

  "Did I frighten you, Mrs. Beatty?" he said.

  It was the first time Karyn had heard him speak. His voice was a monotone with a soft, unplaceable accent.

  "I didn't see you standing there," she said.

  Etienne smiled at her. A shallow smile that did not reach his eyes.

  Oriole came back from the rear of the store. "Get your call made?"

  "Yes, thanks."

  "Sure you won't stay? Even for a cup of coffee?"

  "No, I want to be home before dark. To be there when Roy gets back, I mean."

  "Well, take it easy," Oriole said.

  Karyn bought a pound of coffee just to be buying something, and left the store. She passed up Marcia Lura's shop, wanting nothing to do with the shortcut through the woods, and walked on down to where the narrow road turned off. All the way home she watched the brush on both sides as if expecting something unusual.

  Once Karyn was inside the little house, the remainder of the afternoon seemed to drag interminably. She wished Roy would come home. She would tell him about the young hikers' van being towed away, and the strange guarded response of Anton Gadak when she asked about it. Maybe Roy would begin to see the strange things happening in Drago.

  She prepared a simple cheese casserole so all she would have to do was pop it in the oven when Roy came home. After that she sat down to read, but found it difficult to concentrate. A very light Scotch and water calmed her as the sun slipped behind the western mountains and darkness spilled into the valley.

  Then came the howling. Karyn leaped from the chair, dropping the book she was reading on the floor. This time it was right outside.

  Karyn crossed the room in quick steps and pressed herself against the opposite wall. She stared at the front door, half expecting it to burst open.

  Whatever was outside howled again — a wailing night cry that ended in an ominous growl. Karyn forced herself to walk back across the room to the front window. She parted the curtains and looked out. In the clearing in front of the house, less than twenty feet from the door, hunched a dark, sinister silhouette. Without taking her eyes from the window, Karyn reached over and fumbled along the wall for the switch to the outdoor light. She found it and flipped it on.

  It was a wolf, but bigger than any wolf should be. As the animal sat on its haunches, the big head came to nearly four feet above the ground. It did not move when the light came on, but glared defiantly at the window. The reflected light of the bulb out in front made the eyes glow like jewels. The wolf's fur was a dull gray-brown color, shaggier around the neck. The chest was full, the large forepaws planted solidly on the ground. As Karyn watched, the thin black lips of the animal skinned back and she saw the teeth.

  She fought down the terror that rose like bile in her throat. She would not live the rest of her life in fear. How dare this beast come to her house to intimidate her? Wolf, ghost, or werewolf — whatever it was, she would not yield to it without a fight. Letting the curtain fall back across the window, she went to the closet and took out the shotgun and the box of shells. She checked to be sure it was loaded.

  She carried the gun and the box of shells back into the living room. That other time, back in the apartment in the city, she had been defenseless and overpowered when she was attacked. This time it would be different. She had a weapon.

  Moving deliberately, Karyn unbolted the front door. She turned the knob and slowly, carefully pulled the door open.

  The wolf rose with a rumbling growl. It began to move toward her.

  The shooting lessons Roy had given her came back to Karyn in fragments. There was no time to try to remember everything. She shouldered the gun, aimed at the wolf, and pulled the trigger. The gun boomed and dirt exploded two feet to the right of the wolf. The animal stopped coming for a moment, but showed no fear.

  Keeping a grip on her emotions, Karyn reloaded the gun, corrected her aim for the trigger pull, and fired again. The charge of shot hit the wolf full in the face. The animal made no sound, but the impact knocked it over backward. For a moment all four feet thrashed the air.

  When the beast regained its footing one side of the massive head was raw and bleeding. However, the damage was far less than it should have been, considering the close-range shotgun blast. Karyn broke the weapon open and prepared to reload and fire again, but the wolf gave her no opportunity. It bounded away to the edge of the forest. There it stopped, looking back at her with raw animal hatred. After a moment it vanished among the trees.

  Karyn went back into the house and leaned the shotgun against a wall. Breathing heavily, she sat down at the kitchen table to await Roy's arrival.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Roy Beatty stopped in the doorway, a greeting frozen on his lips. In a glance he took in Karyn's controlled expression, her rigid posture in the chair, and the shotgun leaning against the wall.

  "What happened?"

  "It was here. The wolf. Right out in front of the house. I shot at it and hit it, but it got away."

  Roy blinked, struggling to catch up. "A wolf?"

  "Right outside. I shot it."

  He walked over and looked down into Karyn's eyes. She looked frightened, but under control and rational enough. He went into the kitchen and found a flashlight in the tool drawer, then returned to Karyn.

  "Show me where the animal was when you shot it."

  Karyn got up and led him out the door and into the clearing in front of the house. Roy played the flashlight over the ground as they walked. Karyn stopped walking and pointed down at her feet.

  "The wolf was right here," she said.

  Roy knelt at the spot she indicated and slid the circle of light over the crisp dry grass. He reached down to touch a dark patch and held the light on his fingers. They were sticky with blood.

  "I guess you really did hit something," he said.

  "Not something, Roy. A wolf. The biggest wolf I've ever seen."

  "All right, you shot a wolf. What happened next?"

  "It ran off into the woods."

  Roy swept the light over a larger area of ground. He spotted something a few feet away and went over to pick it up. It was a piece of ragged gray tissue the size of a playing card. He held it gingerly between thumb and forefinger.

  Karyn came over to look. "What is it?"

  "An ear."

  Karyn turned away, shivering.

  "You go on b
ack in the house," he said. "I'll take a look around in the woods."

  "Roy, don't go out there alone."

  "I'll be careful. The shotgun's coming along too."

  Karyn chewed her lip a moment before she spoke. "Roy, I don't think the shotgun can stop this wolf. I should have killed it with my shot, but it just came up bleeding a little."

  "You probably didn't hit it as good as you think," Roy said. "If it's still around I'll finish it off."

  They went inside and Roy took the shotgun from where Karyn had propped it against the wall. He put a fresh shell in the chamber and dropped several more into his jacket pocket.

  "Keep the door locked while I'm gone," he said.

  "Don't worry."

  When Karyn had closed and locked the door behind him, Roy walked to the edge of the clearing and swept the brush with the flashlight. He moved along slowly, examining the ground and the bushes. At one of the faint paths that led away from the house the light picked up something. Roy leaned down and saw a dime-sized spot of blood on a flat stone. Whatever it was that Karyn had shot must have come this way. Roy straightened and moved off along the path.

  Overhead the high cloud layer began to break up, and a bright moon shone through the openings. Roy walked easily along the path with the shotgun in one hand and the flashlight beaming ahead of him.

  A movement up ahead caught his eye and he stopped short.

  He snapped off the light and stepped cautiously forward. In a small grassy clearing he saw it again — something pale caught in the flash of moonlight. Roy brought the shotgun to a ready position and waited, holding his breath.

  "Are you going to stay there crouching in the bushes, or will you come and join me?" The woman's voice mocked him from the clearing.

  Roy stepped toward the voice and snapped on the light. Marcia Lura looked back at him, her eyes glowing.

  For a moment Roy could not move. Marcia wore a deeply cut gown in green and black, night colors of the forest. Her dark hair folded softly back over wide shoulders that gleamed palely in the light. There was no surprise in her face, just a faintly amused smile.

  "My God, I almost shot you," Roy said.