Wolf's Tale (Necon Modern Horror Book 25)

by Dan Foley

  “Are you ready to talk about yesterday?” Wolf asked, knowing she had already talked about it with his Grandmere.

  “Yes,” she answered, looking at her hands instead of him.

  “You believe me that a ghost that attacked you yesterday, right?”

  Before she answered, Charlotte looked up and stared him in the eyes. “Yes.”

  Good. If she can admit it was ghost, maybe she’ll believe the rest of what I have to tell her.

  “So now you know ghosts are real. Did Grandmere tell you I have a ... special relationship with them?”

  “She said you have a power and that they want it.”

  “Anything else?” Wolf asked.

  “That yours is growing and that you have to feed it to get stronger.”

  Well, that’s a start. Now I need to tell her about the rest of it.

  “Yes, the power in my blood lets me see ghosts. The thing is, they know that I’m different. They know I can see them. Not only that, they can sense the power I have and every one of them craves it. The newer ones, the weaker ones don’t dare challenge me — unless I invade their space like you did with the one in the pickup. The older ones though, the ones like Old Ben, they will challenge me, try to get into my head, take over my body, feed on that power until it’s gone. I have to keep getting stronger so that no matter how strong a ghost is, I’m stronger.”

  “And Old Ben is one of those?”

  “Yes,” Wolf answered.

  “Are you stronger than him yet?”

  “I don’t know. The only way I’ll find out is to face him.”

  Charlotte shivered at the thought. “When are you going to do that?”

  “Not yet — but soon. But right now there are things you need to see. Do you know what this is?” Wolf asked her as he slipped the gris-gris out from under his shirt.

  Charlotte stared at the object in Wolf’s hand before answering. “No.”

  “It’s a gris-gris, a talisman to bring me luck and protect me from evil. The things in it — I can’t tell you what they are — are special to me. I only take it off to shower ... and when we were in bed,” he added.

  “Okay, that’s not so bad. Anything else?”

  Wolf glanced down at the windbreaker. He felt as nervous as Charlotte looked. “Ah ... yes. This little guy,” he told her, and reached into the pocket for Little Wolf. No sooner was the familiar out than it scampered up to Wolf’s shoulder.

  “Is that a rat?” Charlotte asked, staring at the creature.

  “Not really,” Wolf answered. Then he told her about familiars.

  16 – Stella

  Stella Shaw sat in her catfish shack waiting for Renee La Pierre. Bubba and Skeeter were at their normal places at the decrepit picnic table drinking free Dixie’s. Stella wanted them there when the witch arrived, and that was the only way she knew of to make sure they were. She didn’t want to face Renee La Pierre alone.

  Bubba came into the shack, walked over to the cooler, opened the door and snagged two more beers. “So, who’s this old hag we’re waiting for?” he demanded.

  “I believe that would be me,” Renee La Pierre said to his back.

  Bubba froze when he heard the woman’s voice. It sounded cold as ice and all the bravado he had been feigning evaporated.

  “Out, but don’t leave,” she told him. “I’ll deal with you next.” Then she turned to Stella. “Tell me about the boy.”

  “He came in, asked for catfish. Then he got a coke from the cooler and went outside. I knew there was going to be trouble with the two sitting out there, but I thought, “That’s none of my business, that’s his problem, ain’t it? I didn’t need trouble with those boys.”

  “He got a coke, not a beer?” the witch asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Stella answered.

  “Then what happened?”

  “Then I heard a commotion outside and I knew the two out there was beatin’ on that boy. When I went out he was on the ground. The little one, Skeeter, ripped his shirt off and then the weird stuff started.”

  “What weird stuff?” the witch demanded.

  Stella crossed herself before going on. “A rat, a hairless, red rat popped right out of that boy’s chest and attacked Skeeter. It got up in his face and cut him up bad.”

  “Anything else weird?”

  “Ain’t that weird enough?”

  “What kind of car was it?” the witch asked, even though she already knew the answer.

  “I don’t know what kind it was, but it was a fancy red one. Did I do right to call you?” Stella asked.

  “Yes,” Renee La Pierre answered. Then she handed Stella a tarnished silver coin. “Spend it, or keep it. If you keep it you can trade it back for a favor if you ever need one.”

  As soon as the witch was outside, Stella collapsed in her chair and stared at the coin. It was old and worn. Stella had never seen one like it before. She would keep it. A favor from the witch was worth more than whatever the coin might fetch.

  So, the boy is getting stronger He has a familiar now. How soon until he works up the courage to face Old Ben, I wonder? Renee La Pierre thought as she went outside to talk to Bubba and Skeeter.

  “You,” she said pointing to the smaller one with the torn-up face, “come here.”

  “Lady, you want to talk to me, you come over here,” he answered, puffing himself up like a banty rooster.

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” Renee answered, opening the oversized purse she carried. “Would you go and get that one for me, please?” she asked the creature that emerged from its depths.

  The familiar chittered back at her before jumping to the ground and running toward Skeeter. And, because she wanted him to, Skeeter saw the creature for what it really was — a horned demon, obviously female, with glaring red eyes and a long, barbed tail.

  Skeeter dropped his beer and blanched when he saw it. The creature jumped up on the picnic table and hissed at him.

  “I wouldn’t make my pet angry if I were you,” Renee almost purred. Then her voice changed to a stony growl, “Now come here!”

  Skeeter almost fell off his seat in his haste to obey.

  “And, you, stay right where you are. I’ll get to you next,” she told Bubba.

  “Come with me,” she told Skeeter, and led him back inside where Stella was cowering behind the counter.

  “Out,” she told the woman.

  Stella was no fool — she got out.

  When Stella was gone, La Pierre grabbed Skeeter by the jaw and turned his face back and forth to examine the cuts that were starting to scab over. Then she leaned in close, ripped a scab off with one long fingernail, dipped the finger in the fresh blood welling from the cut and smelled it. When she held the finger out to the demon, it licked the blood until all traces of it were gone. “Only a scratch. It didn’t bite you, lucky boy. Now send your friend in.”

  When Bubba shuffled in he was not alone. Renee’s familiar dogged his steps all the way. “Tell me about the boy?”

  “That little fucker? I’m going to kick his ass.”

  “Really? And just how do you intend on managing that?”

  “What do you mean, ‘how do I intend to manage that?’ With these,” he said holding out his hands. “And these,” pointing to his boots. “And maybe this too,” he added, taking a folding knife out of his pocket.

  “I don’t think so. That boy is mine,” Renee told him. “You are going to stay far away from him.”

  “No way, lady,” Bubba said with the overconfidence size brings to some men. “That little fucker is gonna pay.”

  Renee saw it was useless to argue with the fool. Instead she nodded to her familiar. In a movement almost too quick to follow, the creature launched itself at Bubba.

  “Shit,” the big man swore when it sunk its fangs into the hand holding the knife.

  “Get out,” Renee said.

  When he hesitated, the familiar ran up his arm to hi
s throat where its claws drew blood. “Shall I have her tear that open, or are you going to do what I say?”

  When Bubba didn’t answer, the familiar drew one hand slowly across his throat. Four red lines blossomed behind it. In an instant, blood was seeping down his neck and onto the T-shirt he was wearing.

  “Okay,” he managed to choke out. “I’ll leave the fucker alone.”

  “Yes ... you will,” Renee said to his back.

  17 – Witch

  When Wolf dropped Charlotte off at work the next morning he didn’t tell her he was going back to the pickup. He needed to do two things — make sure the ghost was really gone, and if it was, bring the truck home. If it wasn’t, he’d leave it where it was.

  As soon as Wolf pulled the Torino into the drive, the old woman was out the door and almost running toward him with a bunch of papers in her hand. “Here’s the bill of sale and the registration,” she told him. “It’s yours now, so get it out of here.”

  Wolf started to answer, but she waved off anything he might say and hurried back to the house. A minute later he saw her peeking around the curtain in the front window.

  “All right spook, let’s see if you’re still in there,” Wolf said as he walked over to the pickup. A quick glance in the window showed nothing, but that didn’t mean the thing was gone. It could still be in there, hiding. The only way to really find out was to open the door and climb in.

  Instead of being cold, the interior was hot and humid. Wolf looked for the ghost with his mind, but there was no sign it might still be there. Another good sign was that Little Wolf, inside the pocket of the windbreaker, made no move to get out. Finally, satisfied that the old man was gone, he cranked the windows down, started the motor and put the truck in gear for one last test. If he could drive it away without the spirit reappearing, he would know for sure.

  He had to gun the motor to get the truck to move, it had settled into the lawn a bit, but after that it rolled easily. He was off the lawn and onto the road in less than a minute. The drive back to Grandmere’s was uneventful.

  “That da pickup with the ghost in it?” Grandmere demanded when Wolf came into the cabin.

  “Not anymore,” Wolf answered.

  “Don’t get smart with me boy. You know what I mean.”

  “Yes,” Wolf answered. “That’s the one, but I got rid of the ghost. It’s safe now.”

  “Sure it’s safe — for you. What ‘bout that gal? You think she gonna want be get back in that thing. You think she ever gonna want to see it again?”

  “I don’t ...” he started to say, but Grandmere cut him off.

  “Course you don’t. You don’t know ‘cause you don’t think. That girl never gonna go near that thing again. You best get rid of it and get another one.”

  Wolf shrugged, but didn’t answer. He really hadn’t thought about how Charlotte might feel about the pickup. He was saved from answering when Grandmere asked, “An’ where’s that fancy red car of yours?”

  “I left it at the ladies’ house where I bought the pickup. I have to go back and get it.”

  “How you goin’ to do that, walk?”

  “I guess I’ll have to.” He had planned on asking Charlotte to drive down and pick it up with him. That might not be a good idea.

  “How far is it?” Grandmere asked.

  “About ten miles,” Wolf answered.

  “Then you best get walking. It’s goin’ to take you all afternoon to get there.”

  Shit, Wolf thought. I’ve got to pick Charlotte up later. I’d better get going.

  He hadn’t gone more than a half mile when the first car passed him. What the hell is wrong with me, he thought, and turned to look back the way he had come. The road was empty, but how long would that last? This isn’t Connecticut, this is Louisiana. I should be able to hitch a ride.

  The first two cars that passed him never even slowed down. The first was driven by an old lady, the second by a couple of smart assed kids who threw a beer can at him and laughed like hell as they drove off. “Assholes,” Wolf muttered, and Little Wolf growled in agreement.

  It was twenty minutes before another car was going his way. Three had passed him going north, but they were of no use to him. The one that approached him now was an old black Cadillac. Wolf stuck his thumb out and it slowed, then stopped, opposite him.

  “Well, get in,” the woman driving told him through the open passenger side window.

  Something about the woman, the way she looked at him, made wolf’s skin crawl. Maybe it was the “Witch” tattoo on the back of her left hand. When he reached out and touched the Caddie’s door handle, a low growl came from the windbreaker where Little Wolf was hiding. “Ah, that’s all right. I just realized how close I am to Mackey’s. I’ll just walk the rest of the way.”

  “You sure?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. But thanks anyway.” Wolf answered.

  “Suit yourself,” the woman told him, and slowly drove away. Wolf had the feeling she was staring at him in her rearview mirror. His taste for hitching a ride went with her. “I’ll just walk,” he told Little Wolf.

  Billy Bodie looked up from behind the counter and smiled when Wolf came through the door. It wasn’t every day he sold a motor and all the accessories. “Hey Melvin, good news, your motor’s here. You want to take it with you?”

  “Can’t, I’m walking,” Wolf told him.

  “Walking? Why.”

  “I bought that pickup you told me about and drove it home. I had to leave my car there. I’m going back to get it.”

  “So, it wasn’t haunted?”

  “Well, it might have been, but it’s not now. But, hey, I stopped in to get a cold drink. What have you got besides beer?”

  “Besides beer? I’ve got coke ... and coke. You want one?”

  “Yeah, and then I’d better get going. I’ll be back for the motor tomorrow.”

  “You want a ride? I can close up for lunch and drive you down there.”

  “You sure?” Wolf asked.

  “Yeah, just give me a minute. I’ve got some things I need to talk to you about anyway,” Billy told him as he flipped the open/closed sign in the window to CLOSED. Then he locked the door, and Wolf followed him to the pickup parked on the side of the building.

  Once on the road, Billy got right too it. “Now that you’ve got a motor, you can get back into the bayou. I’ve been thinking about those gators. I’ll take them, but only if they’re at least twelve feet long. The small ones aren’t worth the risk. You gut em’ and clean em’ before you bring em in, just like before, and I’ll take em.”

  Wolf thought before answering. “How much you willing to pay for them?”

  “Fifty-fifty split, just like before.”

  “Deal,” Wolf answered, and they shook on it. They rode in silence the rest of the way to Wolf’s Torino. Billy was thinking about the gators Wolf would bring him. Wolf was thinking about Old Ben. He knew the ghost was waiting for him. There would be no gators until he had dealt with that old terror.

  After Billy dropped him off, Wolf stood in the road watching him drive away with thoughts of Old Ben running through his head like a pack of snarling dogs. I’ve got to take care of him before I can deal with anything else.

  The first thing Charlotte said when she got into the passenger seat was, “What are you going to do with the pickup?”

  “What do you want me to do with it?”

  “I don’t know. Is the ghost gone? Really gone?”

  Wolf took her hands and looked directly into her eyes. “Yes, it’s gone. I ... destroyed it, I guess. I don’t know exactly what happened to it, but it’s definitely gone.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Then I don’t care. Keep it. Sell it. I don’t care. But I never want to see it again.”

  Keep it, or get rid of it? Either way he had one job he had to do before deciding the pickup’s f
ate. He had to get the new motor from Billy. He’d pick it up first thing in the morning. Then he could decide what to do about it.

  18 – Growing

  Renee La Pierre stared at Wolf in her rearview mirror as she drove away. The shimmer around him faded the farther from him that she got. That boy’s power’s growing. He doesn’t know why he didn’t want to get in my car, but he felt something. Maybe he saw a little bit of my aura. Good. Get stronger boy, I’ll be waiting for you when you do, she thought as she watched him dwindle in the distance.

  19 – Showdown

  “You here for the motor?” Billy asked when Wolf came into the bait shop.

  “Yeah. You want to help me get it into the truck?”

  “No problem,” Billy answered. “It’s all over there,” he told Wolf, pointing to a pile of stuff in one corner. The motor was there along with two gas cans, ten feet of gas line and a life jacket.

  Wolf picked up the jacket and shook his head. “Really?”

  “Oh, yeah. You’ve got to have one these days. You don’t have to wear it, but you have to have at least one for everyone in the boat. They’re getting serious about that. The jacket’s a lot cheaper than a ticket.”

  “Well, better give me two then,” Wolf told him, thinking about Charlotte. Maybe she’d come out with him after he’d dealt with Old Ben.

  “How about fishing gear? You need any of that?” Billy asked.

  “Maybe later. I’ve got to check my stuff and see what I need,” Wolf answered. If he didn’t take care of Old Ben he wouldn’t be needing any fishing gear.

  Wolf carried the motor to the jon boat, mounted it on the back, attached the gas tank, primed the motor and grabbed the handle on the starting cord. One pull — two. The motor coughed once, stuttered and died. It roared to life on his third try. He spun the handle and revved it a few times. Then he twisted the handle back and let it die. When he took his hand away, it was shaking. Not much, but enough.