MisStaked

by J. Morgan

Luna couldn't shake the feeling from the night before. It itched at her brain like an old scab. It had started as soon as she walked out to join Breathred and Brogan. She had only felt it once or twice before. Both of them had coincided with the times they had been around the vamps. This was like that only a hundred times itchier. The fact the feeling still sat with her almost seven hours later was a testament to the intensity of the sensation.

  She stared into the snowblown camp. The storm had yet to let up. In places snow had already obliterated once easily-recognizable landmarks. Against Brogan's orders, Dr. Grayson had the students keeping the entrance of the tomb clear of snow. They worked in teams of four and none of them stayed for more than an hour at a time, the only way Brogan would allow them out of the tents. So far, they had no repeats of what had happened to Sharbano.

  As much as Luna hated the thought of going inside, she turned back to the main tent. The sound of arguing could easily be heard coming from inside. She grimaced. They were still at it. Four hours and still they couldn't decide what to do. It was enough to make her scream. In spite of her frustration, she pushed her way into the tent.

  "Come on, we're trapped here. We might as well go ahead and see what's in there,” Stud shouted in Brogan's face while jumping up and down on the table in front of him.

  "That's all the more reason, not to mess with it,” Brogan yelled back.

  Breathred shoved the chimp off the table and appealed to Brogan. “We're not asking for everyone to go in, just Doctor Grayson and the three of us,” he pointed to Luna, Stud and himself. “You can keep everyone else out of the way. If anything happens, you can get them as far away as you can."

  "Watch it, Petrifunck. Last time I looked I was more qualified than you to enter,” Truehart stated.

  "Me, as well,” Jessica added, glaring at Truehart.

  "People, can we focus on the important thing—getting someone inside?” Dr. Grayson broke in.

  "She's right,” Breathred agreed. “Brogan, give us a chance to find what we came for. You have my word we won't disturb anything."

  Brogan rocked back in his chair. This was getting them nowhere and giving him a headache. They were right. They needed to find out what was going on inside the tomb. He'd checked out all the routes at dawn. Every one of them was packed with snow. They weren't getting out of here anytime soon. He was a soldier and knew facing an enemy without knowing what you faced was suicide. He would give in, but he wouldn't make it easy for them. “Okay, you win, but I pick who goes in. Agreed?"

  "If that's the only way to get in, I guess we'll have to agree,” Dr. Grayson answered.

  "So who's it going to be secret agent man?” Stud asked, getting back in the man's face.

  "It, sure as hell won't be you,” Brogan snapped.

  "But who will it be?” Jessica spoke up.

  "I want to keep it to a small group. Dr. Grayson goes of course. The rest of the team will consist of Breathred and Truehart,” Brogan stated.

  "That's not fair. I know as much as Truehart,” Jessica shouted.

  "That's why you'll be here at the short-range radio with me. I need somebody to interpret what these eggheads are spouting. Before you say another word, it's ended. The rest of you will stay in camp. I don't want anybody near the tomb. In case you're wondering, I mean you and the monkey, Luna."

  "But—"

  Brogan cut Luna off, “No buts, or we can all sit here and wonder what's in that damn hole,"

  "Then, we want to be on radio duty, too."

  "Fine with me. One more thing. We only have four hours of daylight, so we do this tomorrow. I don't want anybody near that place after dark. Are we clear?” Brogan asked, his steely gaze sweeping the crowd.

  "After what happened last night, I don't think you'll have a problem keeping people away from the tomb,” Dr. Grayson said, her voice showing the tension they all felt.

  * * * *

  Luna stood in the opening of the tent she now shared with Breathred and Stud. As night fell across the treetops she sensed a pack of wolves heading north not far from the camp. A part of her wished she could join them, but that path was denied to her. Her place was with Breathred now. He and Stud tossed uneasily on their cots. It had been too early to turn in, but after the restless night before, they had decided to try. Tomorrow would come all too soon.

  Rest was something she desperately needed, but still couldn't bring herself to go to sleep. Her body was all keyed up. It was more than just the groundswell of events. Her instincts told her she had a job to do. Luna Walking Batch wracked her brain, trying to figure out what her instincts were trying to tell her. She dredged up the memories of her childhood. Every lesson learned at her mother's knee flooded her. Somewhere in there was a snippet to explain it all to her. She just had to sort through them to find it.

  The crunch of feet on snow broke her from her thoughts. She glanced into the gloom expecting to see Brogan making another round of the camp. To her surprise Sharbano stumbled across the camp, heading toward the tomb. Dammit, where was Roberts? He was supposed to be watching the man.

  She turned to wake Breathred, but stopped herself. He needed his rest. Besides, she could handle this. A tug on her arm stopped her from running after the man. Luna looked down to see Stud rubbing sleep from his eyes.

  "What's going on?” he asked between yawns.

  "Shhh,” Luna hissed.

  "Don't tell me to shhh."

  "Be quiet. I just saw Sharbano heading for the tomb,” Luna told him in a hushed whisper.

  "Why are you whispering? That zombie can't hear you. Let's go get his ass, so I can get back to bed.” Stud took a step toward the staggering Sharbano.

  "No, Stud. I want to see what's going on. Let's follow him and see what he does."

  Stud crossed his arms. “Look here, Velma. I ain't Scooby-doo and Shaggy's ass is asleep. So, unless you got a hippo in your pocket, we're getting the dead weight back in bed and that's that."

  "Just help me. There's two Scooby snacks in it for you, if you do,” Luna laughed.

  "Make it a triple banana latte, and you got a deal.” Stud winked.

  "You got it. Now let's get going. He's almost out of sight,” Luna said, as Sharbano slipped into the sparse tree line.

  Not waiting for Stud, Luna took off after the fleeing man. She danced over the snow. Her feet made deep ridges in the loosely-packed whiteness. She was pleased to hear the soft crunch of Stud closely behind her. Despite her earlier bravado, she was glad to have some help. While Sharbano might not present much trouble by himself, she was not sure what might be waiting for them out there in the darkness.

  She brushed past the first few stunted pines and kept going. It took her several seconds to realize they were heading away from camp instead of toward the tomb. Luna slowed down and scanned the forest. Luna saw no sign of Sharbano, but she was just as sure they hadn't passed him, either. He had been in full sight up until that last turn. The boy had to be close by.

  Luna signaled for Stud to draw up beside her. Maybe between the two of them, they could figure this out. Before she could begin her search, a wall of flesh dropped from the sky and slammed her to the ground.

  Expecting another attack, Luna rolled out of the way, as soon as she hit the ground. The press of her attacker's weight pressed down on her feet. She kicked out and scrambled further from his reach. Over the blood pounding in her ears, Luna heard Stud shouting at her. She didn't have time to listen. Her only thoughts were of getting away.

  "You can't stop me!” a hysterical yell rang out.

  Luna flipped onto her knees and looked in the direction of her attacker. Sharbano was hunched over, foaming at the mouth. His face contorted into a mask of hate. The sight of him made her hair stand on end. He barely looked human anymore. She felt herself being pulled apart at the seams; the urge to give in to what she had been holding in for so long, tore at her. Deep inside her, heritage demanded release.

  "Sharbano, we just want to help you. Nobody's trying to h
urt you. Just let us take you back to camp,” Luna said, sounding a lot calmer than she felt. Something about him set off a whole orchestra full of bells and whistles. It was getting harder to hold it all in.

  "You lie! You want to keep me from her. She told me you would try to keep us apart. Well, I won't let you!” His teeth gnashed his lower lip, drawing twin waterfalls of blood down his chin where his canines were.

  "Look, Chuck. Calm down. This is getting us nowhere,” Luna all but growled, as she inched closer to him. Looking to the left, she saw Stud doing the same.

  Without warning, Sharbano leapt. He clawed the air, striking Luna as he came down. She was thrown back on the unfamiliar ground. Chuck didn't give her a chance to recover. He bowled into her, driving her to the ground. She struggled to free herself from his grasp but blow after blow kept her pinned to the ground. She just couldn't get her arms free to stage an offensive. It was all she could do to defend herself.

  "You can't beat me, girl. She's given me her strength, her power,” Sharbano screamed into her face. His breath was fetid and hot against her bruised face.

  That was the last straw. A beating she could take. Luna could even take a good tongue lashing, if she deserved it, but there was no way she was going to take chronic halitosis on top of everything else.

  "Asshole, you don't want to get me angry,” Luna warned him, but it was already too late. She was pissed and sure as hell not going to take it anymore.

  The urge to fight her nature was gone. Like slipping into a second skin, the beast took over. The change was subtle at first. Only she could even tell it was taking place. Distantly, she could hear Stud crying out her name, but the fact was beyond her caring. There was only one thing that mattered—the acceptance of her true nature, the birthright of Coyote.

  Her body burned. The moon kissing her fevered face, Luna smiled at her heavenly mother's touch. The smile was frightening to behold. Her teeth had grown long and pointed to match the elongation of her nose and mouth into a single unit. In that last minute she gave herself to it totally and without reservation. The child of Coyote had come.

  Luna howled at Sharbano, who looked at her oblivious to her change. She smiled as the rustle of fur beneath him brought his attack came to an abrupt halt. The look on his face pleased the beast for it was one it knew well. It was called fear. Before he could regain his composure, Luna threw him across the small clearing.

  * * * *

  Stud had been all but blind. He saw Luna go down, but that was it. The last clear sight of her he had was when she rolled under the rabid Sharbano. Stud looked for an opening he could exploit, but found none. He was kept rooted in place by the uncertainty of the situation. For the first time in his life, Stud didn't know what to do. If he rushed in, he could do nothing more than get hurt himself. The chimp was no fighter. Stud hated to admit it, but he was too small to be of any help, hated himself for thinking it, but knew it was true.

  Then, the situation changed. Sharbano flew through the air, right toward him. Stud ducked out of the way, as the boy skidded into the snow. Sharbano landed hard, throwing a blanket of snow into the air with his impact. The man flinched twice and didn't move again. Stud didn't know what kind of kung fu she had used, but good for her.

  Jumping to his feet, Stud looked for Luna. His eyes went to the spot he last remembered seeing her and Sharbano. Instead of his friend, a hulking shadow moved from the darkness toward him. The moon moved from a bank of clouds lighting the land. Stud let out a strangled gasp. Okay, now was definitely the right time to wet himself.

  A wolf the size of a small horse drifted across the ground. It was huge. Stud was no fool, he watched Animal Planet. These things were killers. Oh my God! It was covered in blood. The big-ass dog had eaten Luna and was coming at him, like he was dessert. He'd seen the Temple of Doom. He knew what they did to chimps. He was just a little chimpanzee. He was too young to be served chilled.

  Fumbling for his last shred of bravery, Stud ran. His little legs pumped for all they were worth, but it wasn't enough. He felt the wolf sink its teeth in the loose folds of his jacket. Closing his eyes, decided to face death with all the strength he could muster and promptly passed out to avoid the whole thing, all together.

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  Forty

  Okay, vampires can have bad days, but don't expect it to be today.

  The tire was flat and there was nothing Lewis could do to change the fact. Leopold thought differently and was quite vocal about it. As a result, Lewis had tuned him out thirty minutes ago. It was the only thing that had stopped him from finding a stake and driving it through Leopold's old ass. Before his death Lewis had been a pimp and a player. Players did not change flats. They had ‘hos to do that shit. Just because he was a vampire did not mean he had magically changed into the type of man who changed tires.

  He reached over and hit the clock button on the radio. It flashed 9:42. They had been sitting in the truck for over an hour. Leopold slapped his hand away from the dash, continuing his tirade, blissfully unaware Lewis had stopped listening. Okay, maybe he could change a flat. Anything was better than listening to Leopold bitch all night.

  Without a word Lewis opened the door and jumped to the ground. His legs sank up to the knees in snow. Shit. These pants were dry-clean only. Well, Mr. High and Mighty was going to buy him a new pair. Grumbling under his breath, he walked around the truck looking for the flat. The vamp made two circuits before giving up. He had heard the pop and felt the truck drag to the right. The tire had to be flat. Checking the tires again, nope, they were all aired up. What the hell was going on?

  "Having car trouble?” a voice asked, sending Lewis tumbling into the truck. The bundled up owner of the voice bent over and gave his hand to the floundering man. “Here, let me help you up, young feller."

  Lewis got back to his feet. “Where the hell did you come from?"

  "South Dakota originally, but I've been about everyplace."

  In the light from the open truck door, Lewis gave the man a good once-over. What little he could see of him, he appeared to be an Indian—an old one at that. The rest of him was covered in the biggest parka Lewis had ever seen. Except for his face, there wasn't an inch of the man was left bare to the weather. But, it was the old man's eye that haunted him. They were black as coal. As dark as they were, the twin orbs contained a twinkle that made Lewis nervous. The eyes belonged to a man who was liable to do anything.

  Lewis found the voice to ask, “No, I mean, what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"

  "Oh, you'll have to speak plainer than that. My granddaughter ran off with some white boy from the States and I came up here to make sure he didn't try anything funny. I don't have to tell you what them pale-skins will try to get away with. Do I?” The old man gave Lewis a jab in his ribs with his elbow. “But you don't want to listen to an old man jabbering away in the middle of a blizzard, do you?"

  "No, I really don't,” Lewis sneered.

  "See there. I told you so.” The old man laughed. “Now, what seems to be the trouble with your truck?"

  "I thought we had a flat, but it looks like we just bogged down in the snow,” Lewis said, hoping the man would just walk on down the road.

  "Well, old Coy knows a thing or two about these tricky suckers. Why don't you just hop back on up in the cab, and I'll see what I can do to get you back on your way.” Coy pushed Lewis back toward the front of the truck.

  Lewis grumbled the entire way to the cab. The old man was crazy as a loon, but anything was better than standing out in the cold.

  "Now, I'm going to try and wedge something under your back wheels. When I give the word, you gas it and pull it forward,” Coy said, walking away. His voice was almost lost on the rising wind.

  Lewis shook his head and jumped back into the cab. He ignored Leopold, who was ranting to his own reflection. Lewis didn't know what was worse—a crazy vampire in the truck, or a crazy Indian outside. He turned the key. The engine sp
uttered, but he pumped the gas until it finally caught. Sticking his head out the open window, Lewis waited for the man's call. He didn't have to wait long. The cab was just beginning to warm up when he heard the Indian call out. Throwing the truck into gear Lewis slammed on the gas.

  The truck rolled back. Lewis rocked back and forth in his seat to help it get going. After several attempts the truck rolled free. He let it coast forward for about twenty yards before putting it into neutral and letting the truck idle.

  "About damn time,” Leopold told his reflection.

  Lewis ignored him. He threw the truck door open and hopped down. He looked back expecting the old man to come ambling up. Lewis saw no one. Thinking maybe the old guy slipped when the truck broke free, he walked back to where the truck had been sitting.

  Even though the snow had yet to let up, Lewis could see his own footprints in the snow, for the life of him he couldn't find any for the old man. He saw the hole where the back tire had been stuck. There was even a broken slab of wood with streaks of rubber where the back tire had run up it, but nowhere was there a single sign the Indian had been anywhere near the truck.

  Standing in the blowing snow, Lewis rubbed his head. He was losing it. Being cooped up with Leopold had finally driven him mad. It was bound to happen. He'd just thought it would have taken him longer than thirty years to do it. The wind picked up, deluging him in a shower of fresh snow from the treetops. Not about to stand in the dark nursing his paranoia, Lewis ran back to the truck and hopped in. Lewis wasn't even in his seat when he threw the truck into gear and took off.

  The belching of the truck vanished into the night. When the sound was nothing more than distant thunder, the old Indian walked out of the woods. He smiled a shifty grin. It might not have been his best trick, but it had been enough to get the job done. Then again, Coyote had been known to be subtle when the need called for it.

  In spite of his efforts, he wasn't sure it would be enough. Luna and her man had a wall of trouble heading for them, and there was little more he could do to stop it. This wasn't his game to play out. He might be able to wiggle his finger here and there, but that was about it. As much as his children meant to him, there was little he could do when he wasn't running the show. True, he had his own scheme in play. So he could dabble a bit to keep it going. Ultimately, the main event was out of his hands.