THE HOWLING II

by Gary Brandner

  At a table in the dining room, Karyn sat over sweet rolls and coffee with Chris Halloran and a worried-looking Luis Zarate. They looked around furtively, like conspirators, and talked in low, guarded voices.

  "I understand you said last night you could help us," Chris said.

  Luis' eyes darted around the room. "I did not say that exactly."

  "Well, what exactly did you say?"

  "What I was going to say is that I know somebody who maybe can help you."

  "Damn it, man, get on with it. Do we have to drag every word out of you?"

  Karyn laid a hand on Chris's arm. "Please, Chris, let Luis tell us in his own way."

  "Gracias, señora," said the taxi driver. "The one I know, the one who may help you, lives in the mountains back of the city of Mazatlán. She is a gypsy. Very old. Her name is Philina."

  "What the hell good is an old gypsy lady going to do us?" Chris demanded. "We're talking about werewolves, not tea leaves. I thought you understood that."

  Liu's pushed his chair back from the table. With as much dignity as he could summon, he started to rise. "If the señor is not interested, I will take no more of your time."

  "Please, Luis, sit down," Karyn said. "We want very much to hear what you have to say." She frowned at Chris.

  "I'm sorry, Luis," he said. "I'm just upset. We don't want any more people to die. And we need all the help we can get, from anyone who will give it. I truly appreciate your offer."

  Luis eased back into the chair. "Muy bien. Philina is, like I told you, a very old gypsy. She is full-blooded gypsy, not just little part like me." He blinked a smile on and off, then continued. "Philina sees things in your hand. She knows things that are going to happen. If there is anyone who can help you fight lobombre, it is Philina the gypsy."

  "Can you take us to her?" Karyn asked.

  "I can take you some of the way—as far as the road goes. After that there is a mountain trail that leads to her cabin."

  "That's no good," Chris said. "We haven't time to go hunting through strange mountain country for some old woman. If we are caught out after dark, we'll be at the mercy of the werewolves."

  "The journey can be made in the daylight hours if one starts early," said Luis. "I have a cousin who lives at the end of the road. He keeps burros for mountain travelers. He will let you have two of them for a small price. The burros know the way up the trail. It is the only one leading up the mountain."

  "If we started now, could we make it today before dark?" Karyn asked.

  Luis glanced through the window, checking the angle of the sun. He nodded.

  Karyn and Chris looked at each other. "What do you think?" she said.

  "To tell you the truth, I think it's a waste of time. I can't see what good an old gypsy fortuneteller can do us."

  "Chris, we have nothing else."

  "But palm-reading. Do you believe in that?"

  "Do you believe in werewolves?" Karyn said quietly.

  "Touché," said Chris.

  "Even if the old woman can do nothing for us, all we've lost is one day. And it's just possible that she's for real, and can somehow help us. I think it's worth trying."

  Chris rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "Okay," he said. "I'm game if you are." And to Luis: "How soon can you be ready to go?"

  "I am ready now, señor. My taxi is parked just outside."

  "Good. Karyn, I think it would be best if you stay here while I go check out the gypsy lady."

  "Not a chance," Karyn said. "I'm going with you." When Chris started to protest she held up a hand to stop him, "Please don't go all macho and protective on me. This is more my fight than it is yours, and I'm not going to sit in my room wringing my hands while you're out doing things."

  "All right then," Chris said reluctantly, "we'll both go. While you put on something suitable for burro-riding, I'll go try to head off trouble with Audrey."

  Audrey Vance sat up in the bed and held the sheet wrapped tight around her lithe body as she listened to Chris tell her he was going to leave her this morning. Her gray eyes were like chips of granite.

  "I know this isn't a lot of fun for you," he said, "but please believe me when I tell you it's super-important."

  Audrey stared at him coldly before answering. "And you have to be gone all day."

  "Most of it, probably."

  "With your ex-girlfriend."

  "Karyn is not my ex-girlfriend."

  "Whatever the hell you want to call her, then."

  Chris sighed heavily. "Yes, Karyn will be with me.".

  "Very cozy."

  "I can't help what you think."

  Audrey turned away, letting him see her best profile. "Maybe it would be better if I just went back to Los Angeles alone."

  After a moment Chris said, "As a matter of fact, that might be the best thing to do."

  Audrey turned toward him quickly. She reached out her arms, letting the sheet fall away from her high, firm breasts. "I didn't mean it, Chris. I don't want to go back without you. Look at me, I promised you I'd never be jealous, and here I am doing exactly that. Look, if you've got something important you have to do with the woman, go ahead. I'll find something around here to keep me busy today."

  Chris relaxed. He placed his hands flat against the girl's sides, feeling the ribs outlined under the firm flesh. "Thanks, honey. "I'll tell you all about it some time when there's no pressure. If I tried to explain it now, take my word for it, you wouldn't believe me."

  Audrey locked her hands behind his head and tried to pull him down with her on the bed. "At least you can leave me with a little something to think about."

  He held himself back. "Sorry, honey, I just haven't got the time."

  She released her hold immediately and looked up into his eyes. Little white tension lines appeared at the corners of her mouth. "Jesus, thanks a lot."

  Chris tried a smile. "When I go to bed with you, I want us to have time to do it right. You don't want to start knocking off quickies, do you?"

  "Just go on and do whatever you have to do." Audrey gathered the sheet around her again. "I'll see you when you get back."

  Chris stood for a moment looking at her. When she would not meet his eye he went out and closed the door firmly behind him.

  Karyn was waiting on the veranda with Luis when Chris returned. She had changed into a pair of jeans and a light-weight jacket over a sweater.

  "How did it go?" she said.

  "Not too good."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Don't worry about it. That's my problem."

  As they started down the steps Karyn touched Chris's arm. "There's that policeman who talked to us last night. I want to see him for a minute."

  She walked up the path to where Sergeant Vasquez stood talking to a young uniformed policeman, who nodded several times, then hurried off.

  "Excuse me, Sergeant," Karyn said.

  "Señora Richter, good morning."

  "I was wondering—you said last night that there was this friend of the girl, the one who was killed, who you thought might have done it—"

  Vasquez raised his hands in a helpless gesture. "Unfortunately for us, the young man has the perfect alibi. For the past seven days, including last night, he has been locked in jail in Culiacán."

  Karyn fought to suppress a smile of relief. "I see. Well, I was just wondering. Thank you."

  She hurried back to rejoin Chris and Luis Zarate. They climbed into the taxi and rolled away from the hotel toward Mazatlán. Before they reached the city, Luis turned off the highway onto a narrow, unpaved road that led off into the foothills of the Occidental Mountains.

  Once they were away from the cooling effect of the sea breeze, the air in the car became hot and steamy. Opening the windows did no good. However, it began to cool off again as the road started to climb.

  The rutted road finally came to an end at a pile of boulders. Luis eased the car off into the gravel in front of a weathered shack built of lumber scraps and flattened tin cans. He honk
ed the horn steadily until a swarthy man, with a limp and one clouded eye, came out of the shack. Luis got out of the car and spoke to him in Spanish while Karyn and Chris stood by waiting. Finally Luis rejoined them.

  "My cousin Guillermo will let you have two burros for the day for ten dollars. It is too much, but he knows you are Americans, and to ignorant peons like Guillermo all Americans are very rich."

  "Tell him it's a deal," Chris said.

  Luis passed the word to his cousin, and the man limped back behind the shack and returned a minute later leading two sleepy burros that looked as if the moths had been at them.

  "Are you sure they'll make it up the mountain?" Chris said.

  "Estos es muy buenos burros," said Guillermo, catching the tone of Chris's voice, if not the meaning of his words. "Muy robustos."

  "Yeah, I'll bet," Chris muttered.

  "What about saddles?" Karyn asked.

  Guillermo looked blank.

  She patted the seat of her jeans, then the bony back of one of the burros. "Saddle," she repeated.

  A light came into Guillermo's good eye. "Oh, sí, las manias!" He limped into the shack and returned with two thin, tattered blankets. He folded them carefully and lay them over the backs of the burros.

  "Swell," Karyn said. She glanced over at Luis.

  "Don't worry," he said. "These burros do not move fast enough to throw you off."

  "That's not what I'm worried about," Karyn said drily.

  "We'd better get started," Chris said. "Which one do you want?"

  Karyn looked the two animals over. They were about the same size, and their gentle, sleepy eyes told her nothing. She rubbed the ruff of hair between the ears of one of them. The burro did not move.

  "I like this one," she said. "He's got spirit."

  With help from Luis and his cousin, they climbed aboard the animals. Guillermo showed them how to hold onto the rope that was attached to a simple bit in each burro's mouth.

  "You're sure we'll be able to find the place all right?" Chris said.

  "The burros will take you there," Luis assured him. "They will follow the trail, and the trail leads only to the gypsy."

  "And you'll meet us here when we come down?" Karyn said.

  "Sí, señora. I will be waiting a full two hours before sundown. Take care you are not caught in the darkness. Night comes quickly in these mountains."

  "Don't worry," Karyn told him, "we won't take any chances."

  They clucked to the burros, and with a little urging the animals started off at a slow, patient pace up the rocky trail that led into the mountains.

  Karyn soon found that riding burro-back was every bit as uncomfortable as she had imagined. In less than half an hour the insides of her thighs were chafed raw, and her buttocks ached from the steady jolting gait of the beasts.

  Chris, riding ahead on the narrow trail, turned back. "How you doing?"

  "Just great, but I may never sit down again."

  After riding up the ever-steepening grade for more than another hour, they came to a clearwater spring that bubbled out between two rocks. Karyn and Chris dismounted gratefully and drank deeply of the icy water while the burros dipped their muzzles in the pool downstream.

  "How about a short rest?" Chris said.

  "I'd appreciate it."

  Chris sat down on a rock among the scrubby chapparal that grew along the trail. Karyn eased into a semi-reclining position beside him.

  "I sure hope this trip is worth the aches and pains," she said.

  Chris grinned at her. "I was willing to come up alone, remember?"

  "Come on, cowboy, let's ride," she said, pushing painfully to her feet.

  Chuckling, Chris remounted his burro and they set off again.

  The sun had passed its zenith when they topped the first crest. On the other side the trail dipped down sharply into a steep valley of tangled green rain forest.

  "God, how much farther can it be?" Karyn said.

  "I think this is it," Chris said. "Look over there."

  Karyn followed his pointing finger and saw, just over the rise of ground, the top of a cabin. The walls were unfinished logs, the roof a heavy thatch of dry grass. From a hole in the roof a trail of gray smoke drifted into the air. The cabin had an unreal, fairytale look.

  "The house of the wicked witch," Karyn said, and immediately wished she hadn't.

  They got down off the burros and tied them loosely to a clump of chapparal, undoing the rope bits so they could eat. The docile animals lowered their heads and began to chew on the coarse grass.

  Karyn and Chris approached the hut together. There was no door. Instead, the heavy tanned hide of some animal hung across the opening. From inside came the smell of something gamy cooking.

  "Hello?" Chris called at the door. "Anybody here?"

  No answer.

  Chris looked at Karyn with a shrug, then drew aside the hide covering the doorway. The smell of cooking, new and old, hit them like a fist. In the center of the single room a low fire burned in a pit lined with rocks. Over the flame, a blackened five-gallon can was suspended on a pole. Something bubbled sluggishly in the can. The room was oppressively hot.

  "Váyase. Go away."

  For a moment Karyn could not locate the source of the voice. Then, as her eyes adjusted to the gloom inside the cabin, she saw a tall woman, thin as a stick, with straight white hair and a black dress that had been patched many times. The woman stood on the other side of the fire pit, looking at them.

  "Luis Zarate told us to come to you," Chris said. He squinted into the shadows, trying to get a clear look at the woman.

  The gypsy took a step toward them. The glow from the fire accentuated the highlights and shadows of her face. Her nose was thin and highly arched. The cheekbones stood out prominently over the deep hollows of her cheeks. Her skin was leathery and wrinkled, but in the dark fiery eyes was a hint of the wild beauty she once had been. She fixed them with a steady gaze, Chris first, then Karyn.

  "You are the ones, then," she said. Her voice was steady and ageless.

  "Luis spoke to you about us?" Karyn said.

  "I have not seen him."

  "You said—we are the ones."

  "I knew you were coming."

  "Can we speak to you?" Chris said, his tone automatically respectful.

  "Ah, well, come inside if you must," the old woman said.

  Karyn and Chris entered the dark interior of the cabin. There was no carpet on the hard dirt floor, and little furniture that was recognizable. When Chris let the hide fall back over the doorway, the only light came from the fire.

  The gypsy, Philina, motioned Karyn into an old wooden chair that had no back. Chris stood beside her. The old woman sat down on a pile of rags facing them, She drew her legs up and crossed them beneath her.

  "Tell me your story," Philina said.

  Karyn began to talk, haltingly at first, then more freely. She told the old woman about the things that had happened to her, beginning with her first encounter with the werewolves in the California village of Drago. She talked about the renewal of the horror this summer in Seattle, and how it followed her to her parents' home in Los Angeles, and finally here to the west coast of Mexico.

  The old gypsy listened silently. She did not move or change her expression. The only sign that she was not asleep was the glitter of her eyes in the firelight.

  When Karyn had finished there was no sound in the cabin for a long time. At last Philina spoke. "So you have come to me."

  "Yes," Karyn said. "Can you help us?"

  Philina gazed into the fire for such a long time, Karyn began to think she had fallen asleep. Then abruptly she looked up and said, "Let me see your hand."

  Karyn glanced at Chris, then rose and walked over to where the gypsy was sitting. She knelt next to the old woman and held out her hand. Philina took it in her own bony fingers. There was surprising strength in her hand. She traced the lines with a cracked fingernail, muttering to herself in a language Ka
ryn did not recognize.

  After a few minutes the gypsy released Karyn's hand and turned to Chris. "Now yours."

  Chris came over and offered his palm. Philina scanned the lines briefly, then dropped his hand.

  "I cannot help you," she said.

  "What did you see?" Karyn asked.

  Philina looked up. The shadows thrown by the dull red fire made her face skull-like. "Sometimes it is better not to know."

  "For God's sake, let's hear it," Chris said. He took out his wallet and began thumbing through the bills. "I'll pay you. How much do you want?"

  The old woman made a dry sound in her throat that might have been laughter. "Your money is of no use to me. If you insist on knowing, sit down and I will tell you what I saw in your hands. But do not blame me afterwards."

  With a gesture of impatience Chris put away his wallet. He went back and sat on the broken chair. Karyn stayed where she was next to the old woman.

  Philina paused, looking again into the fire before she spoke. "I need give only one reading for the two of you, for I see the same thing in the hands. I see pain. And blood. Much blood. And death."

  "No!" The word was out before Karyn could think.

  The old woman looked at her sharply. "What did you come looking for, some carnival trickster? Did you expect me to tell you of long, happy sea voyages and surprise gifts of money? Of romantic strangers entering your lives? Bah! You asked me what I saw in your hands. I have told you. Now go."

  Chris stood up, but said nothing. He helped Karyn to her feet.

  "Is there nothing we can do?" Karyn said.

  "Arm yourselves as you did once before," the Gypsy answered. "Then you may have a chance."

  "Is there no place we can be safe?"

  The gypsy shook her head slowly. "There is no place. Your destiny is here, and you cannot run away from it. It is here that your story must end."

  "End?" Chris said sharply. "What do you mean end? End how?"