He ran at a breakneck pace, ignoring the branches and thorns that tore at his skin and bloodied his arms and legs.
He didn’t stop until he reached the familiar surroundings of his grandmother’s yard. Only then did he chance looking back toward the trees, but there was nothing there. He was alone.
He reached the house, taking the porch steps two at a time. He fell through the door and slammed it behind him. Only then did he take a moment to catch his breath, leaning over, sweat dripping from his face onto the polished wood floor.
“What on earth has gotten in to you?” His grandmother asked, poking her head from the kitchen. There was a smudge of flour on her forehead.
“I saw a monster in the woods. It chased me.”
“What’s that child?” His grandmother set her rolling pin on the counter and focused her attention on him. “Now why would you think a monster was chasing you?”
“I saw it.” Ed was crying now, large tears that rolled down his cheeks and lingered on his chin. “It was standing there, looking at me. I think…” He gulped in great lungfuls of air between sobs. “I think it wanted to eat me.”
“My Lord, Calm down before you have a fit,” the old woman said. “Tell me what you saw. Quickly now.”
“It was a monster.” Ed gulped. “It had yellow eyes and looked like a big dog, only on two legs, and it had huge claws and teeth–”
“I see.” His grandmother knelt down and took him by the shoulders. “Now you listen to me boy, you’re not to tell anyone about this, do you hear?”
Ed nodded. “Why not?”
“Because people won’t believe you. They will say that you didn’t see it.”
“But I did see it.”
“I know you did child. I know what you saw.” She stood and shuffled back to the kitchen. “You had better stay out of the woods from now on.”
“I will.” He meant it too. He had no intention of ever stepping foot in those woods again. “What was it, Grammy?”
The old woman turned and looked at him, her face rigid and stern. “It was the devil boy. A thing dragged up from the pits of hell to make the heathens and the fornicators pay for their sins.” She waved a bony finger at him. “You just crossed paths with the Lupe Garou.”
Ed woke up, a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin. He’d put the incident from his mind for decades, blocked it out and pretended it was the imagination of a small child, fueled by the mad ramblings of a superstitious woman who still believed the old legends.
But now he knew better. The Lupe Garou found him that hot summer day, and last night it came back.
29
IT WAS EARLY AFTERNOON before Sheriff Decker slipped away from the grisly scene in the woods off Route 16. He sent Chad to the Boudreaux house to talk to Jeremiah, and drove back to town, leaving the M.E., whom he had spent far too much time in the company of over the past 24 hours, bagging up the victims.
He made it through the door of the sheriff’s Office just in time to avoid the first drops of rain that fell from the swiftly darkening sky.
Waiting for him, propped up against the front counter, with a look on his face that could sink a ship, was Mayor Thornton.
“What can I do for you Beau?” Becker put on his cheeriest face.
“Sheriff Decker. How are you?” The mayor did little to hide the annoyance in his voice.
“Well I’ve had better days to tell you the truth Beau.”
“Really. Me too. You know, I was getting ready for bed last night, when I saw a rather interesting news item on Channel 36. You wouldn’t know what that was all about would you?”
Decker walked behind the counter and stopped at the coffee pot. He poured himself a cup and took a sip. “Not sure I follow,” he said, knowing full well what Thornton referred too.
“Oh I think you do. How else would the local news have found out about the killing up at Sullivan’s Pond yesterday?”
“Oh that.”
“Yes, that.” Mayor Thornton took a step forward. “Would you mind explaining yourself?”
“I beg your pardon?” Decker felt his ire rising. The mayor may be the elected leader of the town, but he was the sheriff, and as such was at liberty to protect the public in any way he thought fit.
“You had no right to leak information about Jake Barlow’s death to the media.”
“Oh, I think I did.”
“That decision should have come through me. The last thing we need to do is start a panic over nothing. The elections are coming up in the fall. We need to handle situations like this with a degree of sensitivity.”
Decker noticed the muscle at the corner of Thornton’s eye twitching. “Mayor, there is a dangerous animal on the loose. If you think I give a rat’s ass about your winning the mayoral election, then you are sadly mistaken.”
“Might I remind you sheriff, your job is also up for re-election.”
“And if the good people of Wolf Haven choose someone else in November, then good for them, but in the meantime I am going to do my job as I see fit, and right now that means warning the town about whatever it is that has killed three people in less than forty-eight hours.”
“Three?”
“We found two more bodies this morning. Floyd Benson and Terry Boudreaux.”
“Floyd Benson?
“The moonshiner.” Decker rubbed a spot above his temple where a dull ache throbbed.
“Good riddance.”
“That’s all very well, but it’s not just going after malcontents and petty criminals. People might not give a hoot about some old moonshiner, but they sure as hell don’t want their kids getting ripped up.”
“Regardless, you should have cleared it with me first.”
“What’s done is done,” Decker said evenly.
The Mayor lowered his voice. “Don’t make the mistake of getting too close to this thing John, too involved.”
“I’m not too close.” Decker knew where this was going.
The Mayor wasn’t finished. “I know this must be hard for you, what with the way your mother died, but this isn’t the same thing.”
“I never said it was,” replied Decker. “Still, now you mention it, there are certain similarities.”
“Coincidence sheriff. Nothing more. Don’t throw everything away by following in your father’s footsteps.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Decker said. If the Mayor was looking to annoy him it was working. “If you don’t mind I have a lot to do. I need to hunt down whatever is running around out there and kill it.”
“Well for heaven’s sake do so quietly, and make sure you finish the job for all our sakes. When that new road to the interstate goes in I want people to start using it. We need folk to come here and spend their hard earned dollars sheriff, and they won’t do that if they think they might get eaten.” He stomped toward the door and slammed it on his way out.
“Whatever you say Mayor.” Decker murmured, despite the fact that the Mayor was no longer around to hear it. Then he added, “Asshole.”
Carol, who had been silent during the entire exchange, finally spoke. “Well what kind of a bug got up his ass?”
“Who knows?” Decker poured a second coffee. “Did you get in touch with anyone who can help us with that claw?”
“I did indeed.” She rummaged through the pages of her notebook. “I spoke with a Professor Juliette Costa over at LSU in Baton Rouge. She was very interested and asked me to email her a couple of photographs of the claw, which I did first thing this morning.”
“And?” Decker hoped it was good news. If they could identify the killer they might be able to trap it, or kill it.
“She got back to me about an hour ago. Whatever this thing is, it didn’t come from a bear. It also doesn’t fit an alligator.”
“So what did it come from?”
“That’s just it. She doesn’t know. We can have the claw sent over to her for DNA testing, but she couldn’t make a visual identification.”
“Well
that’s not much help. You’d better package the thing up and overnight it to her. The quicker we identify this thing, the better.”
“Already done. The parcel is waiting for pickup as we speak.”
“Did she say how long it would take?” Decker knew that labs could take weeks to return results.
“A few days. She’s going to fast track it, given our circumstances.”
“Did she give us anything to go on in the mean time?” Decker asked. “Has she ever come across a situation like this before?”
“Not that she mentioned. Apart from bears, which themselves are very rare, there are no other large predatory mammals indigenous to this part of the country, at least, not ones that have claws like this. It might be an invasive species, or something kept as a pet that escaped.” Carol did not look convinced.
Neither was Decker. “I doubt it. What kind of pet could do this?” He wondered if he should follow Chad’s advice and bring in someone better equipped to deal with the situation. Trouble was, he had no idea who that might be. Animal attacks didn’t really fall under the auspices of the State Police, and the Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries were more concerned with illegal hunting than trapping dangerous animals. It looked like they were on their own, at least for now.
“There’s one more thing.” Carol looked uneasy, as if she didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news.
“Go on, let’s hear it,” Decker sighed. He remembered the Mayor’s words. Not being reelected as sheriff was looking more and more appealing by the minute.
“There’s a tropical storm brewing out in The Gulf. It’s still a few days away, and might not even head our way, but right now we’re as likely to get it as anyone.”
“Fantastic.” Decker put the cup down and rubbed his neck to relieve a knot of tension that throbbed at the base of his skull. “That’s all we need.”
30
JEREMIAH BOUDREAUX LISTENED to Chad in stunned silence, the remains of a ferocious hangover pounding inside his head.
He wondered briefly if he was still asleep and this was all an alcohol-fueled fabrication of his booze soaked mind. He wished it were. He prayed that he would wake up on the old worn out sofa, a liquor bottle in his hand and Terry standing over him with that look he gave Jeremiah when he got loaded, plastered all over his son’s face. But he was certain he wasn’t dreaming, and he knew he would never see that look again.
He stood in the doorway, because when the deputy had shown up he refused to let him in, partly out of principle, and also because he couldn’t remember if he had anything less than legal laying around the house. He was pretty sure there was some weed in the bedroom, and one look at the hooch bottle would be a giveaway that he didn’t get it at the liquor store. Also, the flat screen TV in the corner of the living room would probably not hold up to more than a cursory examination. He hadn’t exactly come by it through the usual channels.
None of that mattered now.
Terry was dead.
The words seemed unreal, as if they didn’t belong together in the same sentence.
Terry was dead.
He repeated them over and over in his mind, but no matter how many times he repeated the words, they didn’t get any easier to digest.
He slumped against the doorframe. Everything felt out of whack, like he was watching the scene as a detached observer. He felt numb, lightheaded. “How did it happen?” His voice sounded odd, feeble and small.
“It appears to have been a wild animal.”
“That isn’t possible,” Jeremiah said. “How could it be an animal?”
“I don’t know sir.” Chad dropped his eyes, obviously uneasy. He fidgeted with a pair of sunglasses, passing them from hand to hand. “We haven’t identified the species yet.”
“Floyd? Did it get Floyd too?” Jeremiah hoped it had, because if the old bastard somehow managed to escape, Jeremiah would make sure to finish the job. “Is Floyd dead?”
“Yes sir. Yes he is.” Chad nodded. Jeremiah thought he saw a look of sympathy pass across the young man’s face.
“Good.” He spat the word. “I always knew that man was no good for my Terry.” He felt his throat tighten, felt wetness at the corners of his eyes. “Are you sure my son is dead?”
“Yes sir. Quite sure.”
“You saw it for yourself?”
“I did. There is no doubt I’m afraid,” the deputy said, his voice low. Their eyes met, just for an instant, but in that brief moment Jeremiah knew, absolutely knew, that his son was gone.
“Can I see him?”
“I, uh–” Chad searched for words. “I don’t think that would be for the best, at least not right now. There might have to be a formal identification, but–”
“I want to see my boy. I want to say goodbye.” Jeremiah felt the tears streaming down his face, and for the first time in his life, he did not care. “Dammit, I need to see my boy.”
“I’ll need to talk to the sheriff. To be honest, Terry was not in good shape when we found him. You, uh–” Chad paused and took a deep breath. “You might not want to remember him like that.”
“You just talk to Decker.” Jeremiah raised himself up, a bitter anger fighting the grief for control of his emotions. “I want to see Terry. I need to see him.”
“I’ll talk to the sheriff and see what I can do. I can’t promise anything though.” Chad pulled a card from his breast pocket and offered it to Jeremiah. “In the meantime, I would suggest you stay out of the woods, and call us if you need anything.” Chad hovered for a second, looking as if he wanted to say something else, but instead, he turned, walked back to his cruiser and climbed in.
Jeremiah watched him pull away and disappear down the dirt road amid a cloud of dust. He looked down at the card, at the number for the sheriff’s Office printed in bold black type across it. He crumpled it up and threw it to the ground, then he picked up the empty hooch bottle he’d left on the side table next to his couch, and threw it against the wall with all his might.
31
DECKER ENTERED THE County Line Saloon and made straight for the bar. The room was dark and gloomy. A faint smell of stale beer hung in the air. Decker glanced around, taking in the worn tables and booths, and the faded posters clinging to the walls in gold-rimmed frames. A couple of pinball machines were pushed into a nook near the bar. Only one was turned on, its lights flashing in random patterns to entice players. On the other, taped to the glass, was a faded Out of Order sign. The place had seen better days for sure, but it was Wolf Haven’s lone drinking establishment, and Decker needed a drink.
When he approached the bar Ed eyed him with caution.
“Evening sheriff. Something I can help you with?”
“A beer would be nice.” Decker took a barstool and looked around, noting the lack of customers.
“Sure thing.” Ed took a glass from a shelf behind the bar, and then turned back to Decker. “Tough day huh?”
“Something like that.” Decker watched the bartender pour his drink and place it on the bar top.
“I hear you found Floyd and his sidekick up in the woods, ripped up just like the Barlow kid.”
“Word travels fast.” Decker took his beer and took a long gulp.
“It’s a small town. People talk.”
“Apparently.”
Ed paused for a moment, as if weighing up what to say next, then spoke again, his voice low. “Listen sheriff, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Decker looked up from his beer.
Ed rested his elbows on the bar, leaning close to Decker. “I know what killed them.”
“Really?” Decker put his drink down. “And you didn’t think to share that information?”
“I’m telling you now aren’t I?”
“Alright, you have my attention.”
“I saw the killer.” Ed took a deep breath. “It was here last night, out behind the bar, just standing at the edge of the woods watching me. Creepy as hell I can tell you.”
> “What was watching you Ed, a bear?”
“This was no bear. It was something else, and it was big, real big. And its eyes, burning yellow…”
Decker sat up. Taylor had mentioned the same thing, yellow eyes. “Go on.”
“It stood there, just looking at me like it was trying to figure out what to do. I reached for my bat, but when I looked back it was gone. Scared the shit out of me. I got back inside real quick I can tell you.” Ed took a deep breath. “Thing is, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen it. I know you will think I’m crazy, but I saw it when I was a kid too, out in the woods behind my grandmother’s house.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I know what I saw last night, and I know what I saw back then.”
“So where’s it been for the last three decades?” Decker raised an eyebrow. “Whatever you think you saw when you were a kid, it isn’t the same thing that’s killing people now. It couldn’t be.”
“You of all people should take this seriously. It killed your own mother all those years ago.”
“Now hang on…”
Ed interrupted him. “Your mother died around the same time I saw the beast in the woods years ago, and then last night I saw it again, and now the killings are starting all over again. We have a problem in this town sheriff. Something has come back, something bad.”
“Nothing has come back.” Decker fixed the bartender with an icy stare, barely controlling the anger that suddenly simmered below the surface. “My mother’s death was an accident, nothing more.”
“Think what you will sheriff, but I know what’s out there killing folk. It’s the Lupe Garou, seeking revenge on those that have crossed it.”
“The what?” Decker stared at the bartender in disbelief. “Come on Ed, that’s crazy talk.”
“Someone summoned the spirit of the Loup Garou sheriff. It’s here among us, and it’ll keep killing until it gets what it wants.”
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