The Howling Trilogy

by Gary Brandner

  Malcolm shook himself out of the mood and quickly selected a few articles of clothing. He slipped them on, taking the tattered old ones with him to dispose of along the way.

  He made his way back to the highway, buoyed by the thought that in an hour he would be back with Holly. Then they could be on their way to a new life for him.

  * * *

  At that moment, however, someone else knocked at the door of Holly’s room. Expecting Malcolm, she opened it to a surprise.

  24

  Malcolm quickened his steps as he approached the motel. The same cars that had been there before still stood in the parking spaces. The Oriental woman dozed in the office. Holly Lang’s Volkswagen waited outside her room.

  He stopped. There was a prickling of his skin as when someone draws a fingernail down a blackboard. Everything looked the same, yet something was different. He could sense it. Something unknown was waiting for him behind the drawn curtains of the motel room.

  He approached slowly, looking in all directions, listening, sniffing the air. Nothing moved in the night. There was no sound. He could detect no foreign scent. And yet, he had this feeling…

  He knocked lightly at the door, his muscles tense, nerves jumping.

  The door opened.

  The woman who stood in the doorway was not Holly Lang. She was two or three inches shorter than Holly. Her compact body was beautifully rounded and displayed to good advantage in a tight skirt and top of black leather. The woman’s hair was black as midnight, her mouth wide and inviting. She smiled. Her eyes were wide-set and playful. They were green. Deep, deep green.

  “Hello, Malcolm,” she said.

  The impact of the woman in the doorway kept him from speaking for a moment. He felt very young and clumsy.

  “Are you going to stand out there staring all night?”

  “Who are you?” he managed finally.

  “I am Lupe. I’ve been waiting for you. Come in.” She stepped aside and watched him with amusement.

  Malcolm entered the room hesitantly. No one else was there. He saw Holly’s suitcase lying open on the floor, her things packed neatly inside.

  “Where is Holly?”

  “We have her now.”

  “We?”

  “Oh, come, Malcolm, you know me. We can always recognize each other.”

  “What do you mean you have Holly?” A blade of fear stabbed into him.

  “Oh, not that way,” Lupe said. “She’s still all right, as far as I know.”

  “You’re one of Derak’s people?”

  “Yes, of course. Derak has your friend.”

  “Where has he taken her?”

  “To the hills. I can show you.”

  “Well, come on!” He started toward the door.

  “What’s your hurry?” The dark woman’s voice was husky and insinuating. “He won’t do anything to her. Not until you get there, anyway.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think you’d better hear the rest from Derak. We’ll go after them in a little while.”

  “Why not now?”

  “There are other things we can do now.” She reached up and undid the top button of the leather blouse. “How old are you, Malcolm?”

  “Almost sixteen.”

  Another button.

  “Have you been with a woman?”

  “Yes.”

  The third button.

  “Many?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll bet you have never been with a woman like me.”

  She undid the last button and dropped her arms. A shrug and the leather top was on the floor. She wore nothing underneath. Her breasts were large and firm and proud. Malcolm could not pull his eyes away.

  Lupe reached for the fastening at the side of her skirt. “Have you?”

  “What?” Malcolm’s mouth was dry.

  “Have you been with a woman like me?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  A soft snap, a zip, and the leather skirt joined the top on the floor. Lupe stood straight before him. She touched the dark triangle of pubic hair, slid her hand up over the rounded belly, and cupped one heavy breast. Her finger played with the nipple until it stood erect.

  “Do you like me?” she said.

  “I-I have to find Holly.”

  “I told you I’ll help you. But first, wouldn’t you like to get to know me better?”

  She came toward him, stopping inches away. He could feel the heat of her naked body. There was an ache between his legs.

  “I can make you feel really good,” Lupe said. “Would you like that?”

  She reached down and touched him. His erection grew under her fingers.

  “Well, what do we have here?” she teased. “And only sixteen years old. You are going to be quite a man, Malcolm.”

  He began to perspire. He could feel his shirt going damp at the armpits. Conflicting emotions ripped him. He wanted to take the hand of the taunting woman away, and he never wanted her to move it.

  She opened his pants and slipped her hand inside. The sensation was unbearable pleasure.

  He tried to speak, but all that came out was a long “Aaahhh!”

  “Take those things off,” Lupe told him. “Come into bed with me.”

  She peeled back the spread, blanket, and top sheet, then lay down, spreading her midnight hair over a pillow. She cocked one knee and massaged the velvety inside of her thigh with gentle strokes of her fingertips.

  “Hurry,” she said in a husky whisper.

  With his eyes never leaving the woman in the bed, Malcolm stripped off his shirt and pushed the pants and shorts down his legs. He pulled off shoes and socks and lay down on the bed beside her.

  Instantly Lupe was on him. She kissed his mouth, her tongue probing deep. Her hungry lips nibbled at his chin, his throat, and down across his chest to his belly. The green eyes looked up at him teasingly.

  “Feel good?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Want me to stop?”

  “No.”

  “I told you so.”

  She took him into her mouth then. Her tongue and lips worked on him, her white little teeth giving him gentle love bites. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked. Malcolm felt as though he were being pulled inside out.

  Just when he thought he could not last a second longer, she drew her head back, her mouth making a little popping sound as he slid out. She rubbed the length of her body up along his, the flesh lubricated by their mingled sweat. She raised her head and looked down on him. Her hair was a shiny black curtain framing her face. She smiled. Her teeth were very white and very sharp. And not so little anymore.

  Slowly, tantalizingly, she lowered herself down on him and took his length inside her. He felt the heat radiate through his body.

  “Good?” she said, her breath moist on his face.

  He could not answer.

  She began to ride slowly up and down on him, pausing at the top just before he would have slipped out, then sinking gradually to swallow him up again.

  Malcolm closed his eyes, giving himself to the sensations of his body. Sitting on him, riding him, Lupe stepped up the rhythm and the vigor of their joining until her buttocks smacked his upper thighs with a report like a pistol shot.

  His climax came a second before hers. She dropped down on him, her arms wrapped about his neck, nails digging furrows in his back. They cried out together and rolled back and forth over the king-size bed until his seed was spent. Then they continued to cling to each other like drowning children as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

  Lupe was the first to speak. “I told you you’d never had a woman like me.”

  “Mmmm,” was all Malcolm could manage.

  “It gets better.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “Oh, yes. When you really know about yourself and about what we are, there are ways to make it much better.”

  Malcolm opened his eyes. He rolled to one side a
nd pushed the woman away. “You said you’d take me where Derak went with Holly.”

  “Did I say that?” Lupe’s eyes danced with mischief. “I don’t know why you’re so anxious to see Derak.”

  “We have to settle something.”

  “You’re not thinking of challenging him?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you are just a pup. Derak has been a leader of his people for a long time. You’re lucky he has let you come this far on your own.”

  “Let me?”

  “Of course he has. He could have taken you many times over the past year.”

  “Then why didn’t he?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I’m asking.”

  “Because he is your father.”

  Malcolm sat up and stared at her. Derak, his father? The knowledge hit him like a fist. Malcolm knew him as a leader, a teacher, one to be respected. And perhaps feared. But a father? How was it possible? He felt closer to Holly, to Jones, to Bateman Styles, than to the quiet-spoken man with the deep green eyes.

  “Don’t start thinking that makes you too special,” Lupe went on. “Derak was father to half the children in the village of Drago. Of course, many of them did not survive the fire. Maybe that is why he is so patient with you.”

  “And my mother?” he said.

  “She died in the fire. You must not think of her. It is not important, as you will learn.”

  He swung his feet off the bed and began pulling on his clothes. “Take me to Derak now,” he said.

  Lupe reached over and slid a hand between his bare buttocks. “So soon? We’ve just gotten started.”

  He stood up, moving back out of her reach. “You’re wrong. We’re finished. Let’s go.”

  “You mean you had your fun and now you’re through?” she said petulantly. “What about me?”

  He glared at her. “You promised.”

  She patted the damp sheet beside her. “Come back. Once more, then I will take you to Derak and your lady friend.”

  He cinched the belt buckle tight and crossed to the door.

  “If you won’t help me, I’ll find them myself.”

  “Go ahead, if you think you can,” Lupe taunted him from the bed. “But it will be much nicer in here with me.”

  “The hell with you.”

  He went out and slammed the door. The night surrounded him. He looked at the lonely cars crouching like abandoned beasts in the painted spaces. The lights were out now in all the rooms, except the one where Lupe waited. Malcolm felt terribly alone.

  He walked back past the motel units to where the land sloped up into the foothills. Up there somewhere was Derak. And he had Holly with him. But where? How to find them in all that expanse of dark, rolling country? The boy’s doubts made the night even colder.

  Then he heard it. The howling.

  Unmistakably, it was a call to him. Malcolm closed his eyes. He sniffed the air. Small, invisible changes happened inside his body. And the night was not so cold anymore.

  When he opened his eyes, their green color had deepened. He started confidently up into the hills.

  25

  Gavin Ramsay sat staring at the little digital clock on his desk in the La Reina County Sheriff’s office. He caught himself counting the seconds as they ticked off, and angrily turned the face of the clock away from him.

  All right, so Holly Lang had not called last night. That didn’t mean anything. There were a hundred reasons she might not have telephoned him. Yeah, he told himself grimly, and about fifty of them were bad news.

  The new, slimmed-down version of Deputy Roy Nevins came into the office. His leather gleamed; his uniform was freshly pressed. He was shaved, trimmed, and looked maybe ten years younger than he had a year ago. Gavin marveled at the varying effect exposure to violence had on different people.

  “Any action, Roy?” he asked.

  “Not to speak of. Somebody used the deer-crossing sign for target practice again. I collared a speeder from L.A. trying out his new Porsche. Had to break up a couple of guys who had pulled off the road to do some smooching.”

  “Couple of guys?”

  “I should have mentioned that they were from San Francisco.”

  “Oh. Well.”

  Nevins sat down to type out his report in two-finger machine-gun style. Ramsay sighed and turned the clock back around to face him. The hell with this. He was worried, and there was no use pretending he wasn’t. He picked up the phone and direct-dialed the number of the Silverdale Motel.

  The female voice that answered had a pleasant, foreign-sounding lilt.

  “Is there a Dr. Hollanda Lang registered there?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. She in room twelve. I ring for you.”

  He listened while the line buzzed five times in his ear.

  “Sorry, sir, she not answer.”

  “This is Sheriff Gavin Ramsay of La Reina County. I’d like you to take a look in Dr. Lang’s room to see if she’s all right.”

  “Is something wrong with lady?” The woman’s voice rose several tones.

  “There’s no reason to think so,” he said soothingly, “but I’d appreciate it if you would take a look.”

  Yes, yes, I look. You want I call you back?”

  “I’ll hold on,” Ramsay said.

  There was a clunk as the receiver was set down on the other end. Ramsay counted seconds on the clock for five minutes. Roy Nevins had stopped hammering the typewriter and was watching him.

  “Hello, Sheriff?” The sudden return of the voice in his ear startled him for a moment.

  “Yes.”

  “I look in room. Nobody there. Lady’s clothes put away all neat. Car outside. Maybe she walk down the road for breakfast.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Ramsay said. “Thank you.”

  “Trouble?” Roy Nevins said when he had hung up.

  “I don’t know. Holly was going to call me from Silverdale. She didn’t. Now she’s not in her room. It’s probably nothing.”

  “Sure.” Nevins went back to his report, but he continued to glance over toward Ramsay.

  Gavin made a try at studying his calendar for the coming week. Talk to the Darnay Boys’ Club, lunch with local Kiwanis, oversee motorcycle hill climb east of Pinyon, entertain police science class from La Reina College. It was no use; he could not concentrate.

  He picked up the phone again and called Inyo County. The sheriff there was a man named Fielding whom Ramsay had met once or twice. A stolid lawman with good instincts but little imagination.

  Ramsay identified himself to the switchboard and was put through to the sheriff, who sounded harried.

  “Good to hear from you, Ramsay. What can I do for you?”

  “A woman from Darnay, a Dr. Hollanda Lang, checked into the Silverdale Motel yesterday. She’s still registered there, but the woman in the office couldn’t find her. I’m a little worried.”

  “Any reason to think something might have happened to her?”

  “Nothing concrete, except the business she was doing there.”

  “What business?”

  “It had to do with the carnival.”

  Fielding exhaled a blast of air into the mouthpiece. “I don’t know anything about your doctor, but I’ve got plenty of troubles of my own with that carnival.”

  “Oh?” Ramsay leaned forward.

  “Couple of men died there last night under suspicious circumstances.”

  “Two men?” Ramsay said. “What happened?”

  He could hear other voices talking excitedly in the background at Inyo County.

  “I’ve got to go now, Ramsay,” said Sheriff Fielding. “Give me a call back this evening and maybe I’ll have something for you.”

  The phone went dead in Ramsay’s hand. He hung up the instrument, then dug into the bottom desk drawer for the silver bullets that had rested there since he had last used them at Pastory’s Bear Paw clinic.

  He said. “Think you can manage things here for a day or so,
Roy?”

  “No problem,” said Nevins. “Is Holly in some kind of trouble?”

  “I hope not,” Ramsay said, “but I think I’ll take a run over to Silverdale to check on her. If you need me, call Sheriff Fielding, Inyo County.”

  “Will do,” Nevins said.

  As he drove through the Inyo Pass and started the descent through the hills to Silverdale, Ramsay began to wonder what he would say to Holly if he found her safe and sound in the Silverdale Motel. How would he explain galloping over here like John Wayne on the chance she might be in trouble?

  Hell with that. There was trouble here. Two men were dead on the grounds of the Samson Supershow, and Ramsay would be damned surprised if Holly and the boy Malcolm were not somehow involved.