by Terry Yates
“Yes…that’s what I’m not sure about. I had checked all calendars, all almanacs, all lunar calendars, everything. I was supposed to have flown through all the full moon areas while it was still daylight. I left Hong Kong early in the morning to catch the flight back home. One thing that I have never gotten used to was flying. I get nauseous…yes, I can get nauseous. I can even catch colds. It seems I’m somewhat immune to death, but not the symptoms of the common cold. Like anything with me, it doesn’t last too long. Obviously my body begins healing immediately, but I can still get a cold, the flu, and even pneumonia, but the forty-eight hour pneumonia lasts about ten hours with me, but I am as miserable as anyone for those ten hours. Needless to say, I had a cold and took some Dramamine for the nausea. I was fast asleep before we even took off. I had to be awakened at two different layovers. Finally, on the last layover, I got on the jet and just like before, I fell fast asleep, confident in the fact that I wouldn’t see a full moon.”
“But you did see one,” Kyler said.
“Yes,” he answered, nodding his head slowly, almost sadly. “Bad weather. I hadn’t counted on bad weather. The jet was delayed for several hours because of thunderstorms. I never woke up, so I never knew it. I’m thinking that it was almost dark when we got into the air. When I awoke, I remember feeling strange. I was feeling something I hadn’t felt in nine years. I began to feel my blood burning. It was a very surreal feeling, because it had been so long, but there was no mistaking the feeling. I looked around and noticed that all of the window shutters were down. That would’ve been a strange thing to do if it were still daylight. Most people tend to look out the window when they fly, but all of the shutters were down. I was in the window seat, so I raised mine. You can’t imagine the panic that I felt when I realized that it was nighttime and that I was staring a full moon right in the face. It seemed so close that I could’ve reached out and touched it. I began to panic. I was trapped thousands of feet in the air with men, women, and children all around me! My mind began to race. I couldn’t turn now…not on a jet with dozens of children on board! I kept thinking…what can I do? What can I do? I couldn’t very well run up to the cockpit and tell them to land the jet, because I’m about to turn into a werewolf.”
“They’d think you were nuts.”
“Right. I tried to think of everything. I thought of saying that it was a high- jacking, and to land the plane immediately, but I had no weapon, no way of threatening them. I would’ve just been subdued until I turned. I only had one option left to me. The emergency exit. I could jump out and take my chances. I don’t know if a fall from that height would kill me or not. So far, it’s been almost impossible to kill me.”
“I suppose you couldn’t have told someone to behead you?”
“That would’ve gone over about as well as me telling them that I was half man, half wolf.”
“What about self preservation?”
“When there are innocents, especially children, self preservation can sometimes take a backseat. Even animals tend to do honorable things at times.”
“So, what happened with the emergency exit?” Kyler asked.
Klefka sighed. “I never made it. I was in the back of the plane. I remember walking toward it, but I don’t remember getting there. Obviously, I didn’t make it. I must’ve begun to turn before I could to it.”
With this, Klefka grew quiet. Kyler could see that the man was now miserable, his face almost gaunt. He began to rub the back of his calf again.
“Maybe the jet crashed on its own and you didn’t kill anyone,” Kyler threw in, trying to both break the silence and lend the man some comfort.
Klefka knew what he was trying to do, and smiled weakly at him, before shaking his head.
“Becoming a werewolf is like dreaming. You dream constantly, but seldom remember the dream, but every once in a while, you have one where you just remember certain details, and you’re not even sure if you really dreamt it or whether you’re mind invented it. I, unfortunately, believe I remember certain details about turning in the jet…not much, but I get certain images in my brain that tell me that I killed every man, woman, and child on board. Afterwards, I believe I broke down the cockpit door and then killed the crew. I’m not certain of it, but…”
He couldn’t finish, because Nicholas Klefka began to cry. He had tried to hold it in as long as possible. Kyler figured that reliving five centuries of carnage had taken its toll on the man. Kyler watched awkwardly as he continued to sob. What do you tell a guy who has accidentally killed possibly thousands of people?
“At least you tried to save the passengers. That has to account for something.”
“No, Doctor, it doesn’t,” Klefka answered, wiping his eyes. I should’ve found a way to kill myself centuries ago. I should’ve had someone behead me or draw and quarter me, or burn me, or at least attempt to find a way to kill myself. It’s the only way to lift the curse from me.”
“In this day and age, there must be something that someone can do,” Kyler told him. “Doctors, scientists, someone.”
“So far no one. I’ve searched for centuries for a cure. If there is one other than beheading, I have not heard of it.”
“I’m still puzzled about how the jet ended up flying all night before landing in the ocean.”
“I suppose one of the crew put the plane on automatic pilot, and it somehow went under the radar, so to speak, and just continued to fly until it ran out of fuel and crashed into the ocean.”
Both men looked out toward the ocean. The fog was gone now, and from the hill, they could both see the jet’s tail section sticking out of the water like a silent sentinel.
“Let me ask you this,” Kyler started, not wanting to cause Klefka further distress, but he knew he was living a moment that would probably never come his way again. Klefka looked back at him with an expression that told him that it was okay. “In the hospital…the first night…when you turned, the ones that witnessed it said that you…it…picked up old Mrs. Rogerson who was comatose and dying, and threw her away…uh…how do I say this…after a few bites. They said it was as if you didn’t want her.”
“I don’t know,” Klefka returned, “but my guess is that, just like humans, animals have certain likes and dislikes in food. Some people like liver and some don’t. Some like chicken and some don’t, but my guess is that it’s the age and the disease itself. Most lions, tigers, wolves and bears love to eat young, sinewy prey more than they like the older ones who are slower and easier to kill…and if I’m not mistaken, I think there’s more of a thrill in hunting the younger, fleshier ones.”
“So, you think that when you turn, you enjoy hunting and killing?”
“That’s hard for me to answer because I seldom remember anything. But yes, it’s probably like an alcoholic who is mild mannered when he’s sober, but when he drinks, he blacks out, and likes to pick fights with everyone he comes across. That’s the closest thing to an answer than I can give.”
“What about the camera?” Kyler asked.
“Camera? What camera?”
“You’ve turned twice now and both times, you seemed to be affected by the camera flash. What’s that all about?”
Klefka rubbed his chin for a moment. “I know that my eyes are very sensitive to fluorescent lights and flashbulbs. I have no idea why, but they always have been. I’m guessing that if it bothers me as a man, it probably bothers me when I turn.”
“It’s a you thing, not a werewolf thing.”
“Yes.”
“But why do you just bite some and rip others to shreds?”
Klefka seemed taken aback by this question. Kyler knew that he’d said “rip others to shreds” fairly matter of fact. He hoped he hadn’t insulted the man. Klefka seemed to realize this and relaxed.
“I’m not sure. People would tell me…not knowing that I was the werewolf that they were talking about…that they saw the werewolf kill this person and then only bite this person, and eventually that person turned
into a werewolf. Maybe it’s like Gregore said. Self-preservation is only one of a werewolf’s animal traits; another is survival of the species. Perhaps I, or other werewolves, kill some for food and just bite others to carry on the bloodline. Who’s to say? I never remember.”
“Sometimes companion. Sometimes food.”
“I suppose.”
Kyler had so many questions to ask, but he knew that he must get back to the bunker. Shelly Dixon and Kayla needed to be looked after. So did Michael Blum’s leg, Lauren O’Hearley’s near peritonitis, Rob Olsen, and course, Opal Munn and Samantha Gould.
“I…uh…need to go back to the bunker now,” Kyler told him.
Klefka sat forward. It was time for him to ask Kyler the inevitable question.
“What are you going to tell them?” he asked.
“Tell who what?”
“Them. About seeing me…about talking to me…which I greatly appreciate, by the way. I don’t believe I’ve spoken this much in fifty years.”
“I’m not sure what, if anything, I’m going to say. There’s one part of me that thinks that I should tell someone, let people know what you are and that you’re not evil, but simply cursed, but there’s another part of me that wants to see you…”
“Ripped to shreds?” Klefka asked, smiling.
“Yes…I guess.”
The two men sat quietly for another moment, neither speaking, but neither averting their eyes from one another. Kyler kept thinking that Klefka would speak at any moment, but it appeared as if the man would remain silent, and had now put the ball in his court. Kyler knew that he was waiting for an answer to his question. Kyler had also noticed that Klefka was much better physically than he had been when they had first tussled on the ground. Had he been healing as they spoke? He still rubbed his calf, but not as hard and not as often.
“What are you expecting me to do?” he asked. “Are you wanting me to tell someone or to not tell someone? I’m not sure what you want. If I tell Potts I didn’t see you, what happens?”
“As compared to what happens if you do tell him?”
“You mean if I do tell him, he’ll come looking for you. If I don’t tell him, then what? You turn and come and try to kill us all in the bunker? What is it that you want?”
“I want to live. It’s in my nature to survive. I don’t want to be hunted like a dog again. I just…”
He couldn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he flopped down on his back and put his arms over his eyes. As he did, Kyler stood up, and quickly stepped over to him and looked down at his ankle. The bite mark was still swollen and bloody.
“Why isn’t Joe’s bite mark healing?” he asked.
Before Kyler knew what was happening, Klefka shot up and grabbed him by the shirt, and yanked him down onto the ground, Kyler’s face slamming hard into the dirt. Klefka quickly rolled him over and sat on top of him, pinning his arms to the ground, his old strength having returned. The man had suckered him, got him to drop his guard, and then pounced…just like a wolf might do.
“Never…ever…sneak up on a werewolf,” he said, panting. Kyler couldn’t tell if it was because he was out of breath or because the wolf part of him was sweating. Either way, he was scared shitless.
Klefka climbed off of Kyler and stood up. All Kyler could see of him was the silhouette where his face was supposed to be…and his extended hand. Klefka was holding his hand out to Kyler to help him up. A tide of relief flowed over the doctor. The man hadn’t been trying to dupe him; he had just reacted to Kyler having sneaked up on him.
Kyler took the man’s hand and let him pull him up off the ground. The man’s upper body strength had returned, but he still favored his right leg. It had almost given way on him as he pulled the doctor up.
Klefka hung on to Kyler’s hand as the two practically stood nose-to-nose. Kyler looked down at the bite on Klefka’s hand. It was still swollen, too. The doctor pressed down on it with his other hand. Klefka grunted in pain and clamped his hand down hard on Kyler’s. The pain in Kyler’s hand was excruciating. It felt like someone had clamped a vice grip down on his fingers. Kyler shut his eyes and grimaced. Just when he thought that he would scream, Klefka released his grip. Again, relief swept over the doctor as he had an epiphany. Never screw with a werewolf more than twice in a single minute.
“I suppose, I need to go now,” Kyler said, awkwardly as he took a step back from Klefka.
“Yes. You don’t want to miss the rescue planes.”
“Why…why don’t you let me take a look at those bites? I have everything I need in this pillowcase to clean them.”
“Thank you, but no,” Klefka answered, smiling weakly once again.
“What are you going to do?”
“That depends on what you do.”
Kyler nodded, threw the muddy pillowcase over his shoulder, turned, and began to walk slowly start back up the hill. He could feel Klefka’s eyes silently watching him. He had gone no more than twenty feet before he stopped and turned around.
“I don’t know what good it will do, but I’ll hold off telling Potts about you unless absolutely necessary.”
Klefka silently nodded his head in gratitude, and then began to walk back down the hill again toward town. Kyler watched him as he limped away. He wanted to shout out to him and ask him what he was going to do, but the conversation between the men had become spent. They had pretty much said what all that needed to be said between them. Kyler felt lucky that he’d been able to get out of there with his skin after having seen the man grow stronger just during their conversation. Why did he still limp, though? Why weren’t Joe’s bites healing? And why the hell did he just agree not to sell out a homicidal killer? God, where were those rescue copters, so he could get off of this God forsaken island and forget everything that happened in the last couple of days?
He turned and began to walk back up the hill, his bare feet hurting once again. As he walked, he thought of Klefka and tried to fathom five hundred years of running away from a large round orb that was in the sky light years away from him. He had seen the guilt side of the man and he’d seen the self-preservation side of the animal. He had just had a conversation with a man who had witnessed the dawn of six centuries.
As he reached the top of the hill, he could see the bunker off in the distance. He could see now why the government used that building as a façade for their covert shenanigans. It looked like any normal three story office building. Even though he didn’t know what went on the building, he knew that it was much more than just an office building. Right now though, he didn’t care what went on inside it…it was what was inside it that mattered to him. Safety and Zora. He smiled at the thought of both. Then he stumped his toe on a rock.
CHAPTER 44
As he approached the spot where the security gates once stood, Kyler carefully tiptoed his way around the fallen trees and the wrecked cars, and the glass that was strewn everywhere from the shattered upper windows.
He made his way to the front door, and then stopped and looked around. He’d completely forgotten to ask how to get in the building. He looked at the keypad, which had been almost completely ripped from the wall. Only a few wires kept it from lying smashed on the ground.
“Hello?” he yelled at the box, figuring that it was pretty much useless to do so. He lifted up the keypad and put his face to it.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
He called into it a few times before realizing that the keypad was now lying in his hands, the wires having come loose from the wall.
“Great! Great! Great!” he screamed, throwing the useless box to the ground. “What in the shit am I supposed to do?” he screamed even louder, his face turned up, “say open fuckin’ sesame!”
At that moment, the two steel doors began to slowly slide open, causing Kyler’s face to stick in a “say wha…?” expression. Each door clanged as it each reached the end of its track. Kyler looked straight into the lobby area where he saw a shape moving towards him. As it moved i
nto the sunlight, Kyler saw that it was Zora…and she was beautiful. Her thick, black, lustrous, wavy, sweet smelling hair looked even more thick, black, lustrous, wavy, and sweet smelling than it had when he had last seen her, and it was shining with a sheen that made her look like a commercial for an expensive shampoo. It had been washed. And so had her face and skin. She was clean.
She walked up to him and smiled. He wasn’t sure if she was smiling because she was happy to see him or because there she was, clean as a bell, looking at a man who was almost covered in raw sewegy mud. He didn’t have to wait long for the answer, because she reached up, put her arms around his neck, and planted the biggest kiss on him that he’d ever experienced in his whole life. When she pulled back, she looked deeply into his eyes. Please don’t look down! Please don’t look down! Please don’t look down, his mind screamed as she continued to look into his eyes.
“I was worried,” she whispered softly, keeping full eye contact with him.
“Oh yeah?” he replied, his voice cracking with “yeah”.
“Yeah” she answered in her oh so Belgian accent.
Kyler didn’t know what to say. He wanted to look around for pods. If this sexy woman wanted to kiss him in the state he was in, there must be a body snatcher somewhere. She looked down at his feet.
“Where are your shoes?” she asked, still looking at his feet.
“I don’t know. They were there just a minute ago.”
Zora let out a laugh. She covered her mouth as if trying to stifle it, but she couldn’t. She ended it was a small snort that made her laugh harder and made him begin to laugh, as well.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she suggested as she put her arms around him and walked him inside.
Once inside the building, they walked to the elevator where Zora pulled a cardkey from her fatigues.
“Locklear’s,” she said, as she pushed it into the slot.
The elevator doors opened and the two stepped inside. Zora pushed the card into another slot and pushed a button. It was for floor thirteen.