The Skinwalker's Tale

by Christopher Carrolli

“But for how long?” Dylan asked.

  “I’m afraid that this is why Tahoe is coming here,” Susan said, pacing and ignoring them.

  “Did you know that Jack had only hours left?” Dylan asked Susan.

  “I knew that that he hadn’t much longer,” she said. “I thought he would at least have another day. I found out when Kate motioned me toward the back door.”

  “So, Jack had told his tale and exited,” Sidney said, studiously observing the obvious.

  Leah was thinking more about what she’d seen only minutes ago up in Jack’s bedroom. She’d remained silent because the timing wasn’t right. The opportunity would not have been appropriate. But now that Brett was gone, it was wise to tell the team.

  “I saw something up there,” she said, turning to face them, her hands in her back pockets. She sighed before continuing. “After Jack died, I saw his spirit. I saw it rise up out of his body. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. I’d seen it happen a few times in the hospital.”

  She described what she’d seen. The white mist had lingered around the body and taken Jack’s perfect form, still clad in the clothes he’d been wearing. It had detached itself from Jack in what looked like slow motion, one movement at a time, until finally it stood and looked down at the body. Jack’s spirit had glanced around the room, over to Brett and Susan, and then looked right at her.

  He’d smiled at her, and then a flash of golden-white swallowed everything in her sight. Then, the spirit was gone. She’d watched as golden orbs danced and floated around the room, remaining part of it.

  “Jack’s fine, now,” she said. “I think part of his spirit is still in this house; it always will be. I don’t know if it would make any difference for Brett to know that—”

  “Yes, it should,” Susan said. “But we’ve got to find Tahoe quickly. Leah, do you have his number inside your phone?”

  She hadn’t. She kept his number written in a notepad on her bureau at home.

  “No, not with me,” she said. “But I have a feeling that if he’s on his way, he’ll call one of us. We should all be mindful of our phones.”

  “But in the meantime,” Sidney said. “What do we do about Brett?”

  Another howl erupted through the night, haunting and eerie, causing widened eyes to meet as unspoken fear silently climaxed between them. The howl almost seemed to correspond with Sidney’s question, as though beckoning for an answer.

  “I think we’ve got to find him before someone else does,” Susan said.

  “We barely know those woods at all,” Dylan said. It was an obstacle they hadn’t considered.

  “But we know enough,” Sidney said, pointing. “We watched the wolf run off in that direction. We also know where Brett went the last time he shifted into the wolf.”

  Their voices were reduced to fleeting, passing words as a vision overcame her. She saw the wolf running, its pink tongue wagging as it covered ground with furious speed. She saw another farm, one that housed a shack of some kind, or what looked like a henhouse. She saw the moon facing her from a western position. Suddenly, the vision was gone. She stared up at the moon, fixed and facing her from the northern position she’d seen all evening with her naked eye.

  “I’ve just had a vision,” she said. They looked at her, waiting for her to speak. She pointed to her left in a western direction. “He’s that way,” she said. “I saw the moon facing from the west, so he must be there, the same direction in which he’d taken off.”

  “And exactly from where we heard that last howl,” Sidney said.

  “I saw a farm,” she said, still pointing. “It was that way. It had what looked a henhouse, or something like it.” She closed her eyes, remembering the vision, seeing the color of the small shack she’d quickly glimpsed. “It was dirty, faded, white, kind of run down.”

  “Leah, I say you and I go and look for him,” Dylan said. “You’re the one who had the vision. Susan, you and Sidney wait here in case he returns, or if Tahoe calls or arrives. Cellular signals are sparse out here, especially in the woods, but we’ll try to keep in touch that way.”

  “What if you don’t find him?” Susan asked.

  “Then, I guess we’ll be back to wait for him.”

  “Don’t worry,” Leah said. “I have a strange feeling that one way or another, we’re going to find him.”

  * * * *

  A pain like fire ripped through him from head to toe and passed as quickly as it came. His psychic sensitivity told him that it was the pain of death. Still in the air, Tahoe realized that the old man had passed; the moment had arrived. He closed his eyes and felt the dire urgency of being too late. The feeling of helplessness pervaded him until a voice from the plane’s intercom system gave him slight hope.

  “We will be landing at Union airport in approximately five minutes.”

  Tahoe felt slight relief, ignoring the rest of the announcement that gave instructions on landing preparations, and thanked everyone for flying the airline. The small airport was not far from Green Valley. If Brett’s uncle had already passed, Tahoe knew that he would be with the investigators. He would phone Susan Logan from the airport.

  The hustle and bustle had not been what he’d expected. It was a smaller airport, and he’d been on a flight with no more than one-hundred passengers. He made it off of the plane, through the necessary airport hassles, and retrieved his luggage within thirty minutes. Now, he stood in a waiting area, looking through a huge glass window at a taxiing plane out on the runway.

  Cell phone usage was permitted in this area; he would call Susan from here. He pulled the piece of paper containing the investigators’ phone numbers from his pocket and dialed the one belonging to the esteemed psychiatrist. As he listened to the ringing, something told him she was expecting his call. On the third ring, the familiar voice answered. He greeted her.

  “Thank God, it’s you,” she said. “We’ve been waiting for your call.”

  The sound of her voice was grave, troubled, inadvertently revealing that time had not waited for his arrival.

  “So, Brett has told you?” Tahoe knew the answer, but it was essential that they begin on the same page.

  “Yes,” she said. “We know; we’ve seen it three times today.”

  Tahoe closed his eyes, realizing that Brett had reached the point where the skinwalker inside of him was taking and maintaining control, just as he’d feared. He knew that this altered state would be the catalyst that led to what he’d seen in the vision—the black wolf covered in blood. Now, time was slipping away.

  “So, the old man has passed?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, “nearly forty minutes ago.”

  That was right around the time he’d felt the pain surge through him. As Susan continued, she revealed exactly what he’d feared most: Jack’s death had caused Brett to shift into the wolf and run wild into the night. He was gone, and Dylan and Leah had gone to search for him.

  “Where are you now?” she asked.

  He told her about getting the earlier flight to the smaller airport.

  “Perfect,” she said. “That’s about twelve miles from here. I’ll send a car to get you.”

  “I’m afraid there’s no time,” he said. “I’ll get a cab from here; it’ll be quicker.”

  She gave him the address, which he furiously scribbled on the back of the paper, as well as general directions from the airport. Finding Brett’s childhood home would not have been a problem for the aging, psychic paragon. He recalled the last time he’d searched for him, utilizing his third eye and conjuring lines in the sky that led straight to the young man’s apartment. Though this time, such a technique would not be necessary.

  He stepped into the front seat of the cab, insisting upon the need to stretch his legs. As he rode, he watched the small city disappear behind the vast, rural countryside. Part of his mind marveled at the open splendor, its voluptuous hills forming a breathtaking skyline beneath the moonlight; the other part searched with his third eye, hop
ing to gain any psychic glimpse of the roaming wolf. He saw nothing except the beauty of the nighttime scene before him, and he smelled the fresh sandalwood scent of the summer air wafting through the window.

  The cab driver was a short man wearing a backwards cap that covered his baldness. The conversation between them was mundane for most of the ride. When the driver asked if it was his first visit, Tahoe told him that it was his second within a year. He’d returned to visit friends; however, it was the first time he’d ever seen the rural side of western Pennsylvania.

  “It’s quite beautiful,” Tahoe said, “It’s very peaceful, as well.”

  “It is,” the driver agreed. “During the fall, the leaves on the trees change their colors, the deer come out at that time, and you can smell hickory everywhere.”

  Then, the mundane conversation took a startling turn.

  “We’ve had the most excitement around here in a while, just last night during our annual Fourth of July fireworks event.” The driver laughed, slightly astonished. “Some people actually claimed to have heard a wolf baying right after the fireworks ended.”

  Tahoe felt his heart plunge and a chill race up his spine. He turned and looked at the driver who continued.

  “Can you imagine that? We don’t have wolves here in Pennsylvania.” His repetitive giggle dismissed the assertion as craziness.

  “Interesting,” Tahoe said, trying to hide his shock at what he’d just heard.

  It was worse than he’d originally thought. He should’ve known that in small towns, words and suspicions traveled fast, especially in the current day and age. How he wished he’d seen the vision sooner; he would’ve had more time.

  “Would you mind going a little faster, please?” Tahoe was slightly embarrassed, risking the prospect of sounding rude, but he felt time dwindling away. “It’s just that at my age, I’m anxious to get there after such a long day.”

  “Well, these back roads have speed limits of thirty-five. Driving above it, out here, can be dangerous,” the driver said. “It would cost you a little extra, of course.”

  He glanced over at Tahoe with a greedy expression. Tahoe returned his gaze.

  “Done,” he said, handing the driver a twenty-dollar bill.

  Suddenly, the cab was no longer pacing at the thirty-five mile per hour speed limit, but racing at fifty-five on the dark, desolate, rural roads.

  * * * *

  Susan had no choice but to call the medical examiner’s office and have them come for Jack’s body, and thankfully, they’d been quick. It was her responsibility to attend to the task as the physician on the scene. Her prayers that it be handled before any sign of the night’s mayhem resurfaced had been answered. Sidney had kept watch out on the back patio, while she led the medical attendants upstairs to Jack’s room, and then out the front door.

  Five minutes after they’d left, she heard the sound of her ring tone. She hadn’t recognized the number, but she quickly answered the phone. It was Tahoe. Sidney had stood next to her on the patio, listening in as she told Tahoe the details of everything that occurred, even offering to send a car from him. He’d insisted that a cab from the airport would be faster.

  And now, Susan and Sidney watched on a laptop as the live footage of the front yard captured headlights moving up the road, coming closer to the house.

  “There’s a car coming,” Sidney said.

  Susan watched the headlights moving on the video monitor; they slowed and grew larger on the screen as they neared.

  “It’s him,” she said. “It has to be.”

  They hurried through the back door, into house, and onto the front porch. An airport cab was sitting at the end of the driveway. Susan walked over to the driver’s window with her purse in hand.

  “The fare is on me,” she said, handing the driver with the backwards cap her credit card.

  “That’s okay,” Tahoe said, rising from the front seat. “It’s already been handled.”

  “I’ll get the tip,” Susan said to driver.

  “Nope, that’s been taken care of also,” Tahoe said, as he reached the other side of the cab. Susan noticed the odd look of disappointment on the driver’s face as he handed back her card. The driver then made a U-turn in front of the house, and the cab purred as it pulled away.

  “Tahoe,” she said, hugging him. “Please consider yourself an honored guest of the society.” She sighed, exasperated. “I’m not sure how we’re going to face this one. I’m afraid not only for Brett, but for what this is doing to the team psychologically.

  “We’ve set up video cameras both here and in the backyard,” she said, pointing to the front yard camera as they walked past it. “We thought it best to get footage of Brett during the shifting. We need to study what happens to him.”

  Tahoe greeted Sidney as they made it to the front porch, and then he responded.

  “Were you able to get any footage before he ran off?”

  Susan was about to answer, but she turned to Sidney who answered for her.

  “Yes, we did,” he said. “But we haven’t watched it yet.”

  “We need to play it back,” Susan said.

  “Please,” Tahoe said. “I’m afraid that time is critical.”

  The three of them walked through the house and back out onto the patio where the monitoring equipment had been set up. Sidney walked over to the picnic bench and sat down in the front of the laptop, and then positioned it so all three of them could watch.

  “We’ll be able to see it from here,” he explained. “Normally, this is Brett’s job, so this may take a few moments.”

  “Wait a minute,” Susan said. “We’ll watch the footage, but first, I need you to tell us what made you fly the whole way here on such short notice. Tahoe, did you see something?”

  He closed his eyes. She’d seen him close his eyes before. She knew that when he did, it wasn’t good. Now, as the three of them sat at the picnic bench, Susan felt an inner swarm of butterflies form a funnel inside of her as she watched Tahoe sigh and then speak.

  “On the plane, I dozed and fell into a dream,” he said, his eyes still closed. “In it I saw a snake, but then it morphed into a wolf, a wolf I’d seen earlier in a vision. The vision had come upon me soon after waking this morning. It was of a wolf, a black wolf.”

  He detailed the morning’s vision: the man with the gun, the wolf charging, and the exact moonlight that shined down on them now. He opened his eyes.

  “The wolf had been covered in blood.”

  “Dear God,” Susan said. The fear she felt inside seemed to grow larger with every minute. Now, she feared for Brett’s life. An eerie déjà vu swept her, something she’d said earlier tonight, something about video recording in case Brett would ever need proof.

  “What exactly do you think the vision meant?” Sidney asked Tahoe.

  “I can never be completely sure what any vision means,” Tahoe said. “Just like you can never be completely sure of what you hear. It’s the same with the third eye. We who see are left to decipher.”

  “Like the word, ‘shifter,’” Sidney said, nodding. “I heard the voice of Brett’s Aunt Viv today. She’d used that word when she spoke to me. I’m assuming that she sees the same danger you saw in your vision. ‘Shifter’ was the same word the demon spoke in Cedar Manor. It took me awhile to figure out what the word meant, but Brett finally showed us what it meant.”

  Tahoe cracked a slight grin, obviously recognizing Sidney’s wry humor and the hidden reference to his knowing about Brett all along.

  “I apologize,” he said. “But it was not my secret to tell.”

  “You’re right, Tahoe,” Susan said. “It wasn’t. But thankfully, you’re here.”

  “Shall we take a look at what we have?” Sidney asked, as he fidgeted with the laptop. He clicked on an icon, and within seconds, the footage played on the screen.

  * * * *

  They watched as the video footage showed Brett storming out the back door and arching his arms and
chest backward, catching deep gasps of the night air. His breathing was growing harsher when he’d looked right into the camera and then away at the team. The voices on the playback weren’t loud, but audible enough in the silence as they watched. Brett had addressed the team as they stood before him.

  “Well, it looks like we’re about to have some great footage,” he’d said.

  They could pick up Dylan’s voice telling him to wait, to not slip away. They heard Susan telling him to calm himself. Brett’s voice became louder in the video.

  “I can’t stop it; it’s too late.”

  They watched as Brett had pulled his shirt off and threw it aside. He’d spoken again.

  “I’m sorry. But you don’t understand.”

  Tahoe took a deep breath and sighed as he watched the footage. Suddenly, he remembered his last visit and one of the first questions he’d posed to Brett.

  “How long has the mystery been a part of you, my friend?” He’d asked him.

  “Forever,” had been his response.

  It was just as he’d figured all along. Brett was a skinwalker since birth, but now, the incomprehensible gift had become out of control. It was consuming him. Tahoe focused his eyes back on the footage.

  Brett had stared into the camera and pulled down his jeans. The bare, full-frontal shot was as if he no longer had any reservations, as though his mind had become one with the other entity. Then, Tahoe watched the transformation, unbelieving of his own eyes that had seen many things. The one thing his eyes had never seen was the shifting of a skinwalker, and now his heart nearly stopped as he watched the morphing of man into wolf.

  He saw Brett drop from his upright position and fall to the ground into a four-legged stance. He watched as his face had shifted into the wolf’s protruding snout, and his head sprouted wedge shape ears, until Brett Taylor’s identity was no more. It had been fast, quickly overcoming the young man as if he’d been caught between the flashing pages of a cartoon sketch. Tahoe leaned in closer toward the laptop and watched as the black wolf stirred on its hind legs and howled at the bright moon, just like in the dream on the plane.

  He’d once listened to his grandfather’s Native American stories and legends with nothing more than a childhood fascination of fairy tales. Now, he fought to maintain a stoic expression as he felt the hair on his head standing straight. He sat silent, watching as the wolf ran past the camera and sudden movements had shaken the screen. Then, the screen turned completely blue before resuming its display of real-time recording.