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A story about werewolves and how the pack formed. 1st book in the series. |
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The Pack Please Lord, only another six months, that’s all I need, Jonathon Decker thought as he walked through his flower garden. He remembered planting these flowers only last March with his wife, Sally. Was it only a year ago? he wondered. Things had been so wonderful then. They had celebrated Saint Patrick’s Day with friends and family. Their children and grandchildren surrounded them, adding their love to their lives. His wife of fifty-seven years had been healthy and always had a glimmer in her eyes and a smile on her face. Then only a week later, he found her lying face down on the kitchen floor. The attack had been sudden. The doctors told him she was lucky to survive such a massive stroke. He did not consider his wife lucky. She was an invalid, unable to feed herself and forced to wear diapers. A month ago his spirits lifted when he believed for a short time she recognized him, but it never happened since. Jonathon was dying. The cancer was spreading and his physician said he had six months left. He did not want to die before his wife. He knew what would happen to her. She would be put in the state hospital and left in a bed, growing filthier by the day and never a single person to say a word to her. He could tell she had less than half a year. If he could only make it that long, he could die in peace. He looked up from the flower bed to the moon as it rose. It was full tonight. Its orange glow brought back fond memories of the many times he and his wife gazed upon it. He turned away from the moon when he heard a wolf howl in the distance. Silly man, he thought. He heard many wolf howls in his seventy-eight years. He did not understand why this one sent such a chill up his spine. He listened for a few more minutes and when the howl was not repeated, figured the pack moved on. He glanced at the moon once more before continuing his stroll. Sally was asleep for a time and he took the opportunity to leave their small cabin. He could not be gone too long because there was no way of telling when she might wake. If no one was with her, she would begin to scream and scream. That and drooling were the only things she could do. If she started screaming, it could take over an hour to calm her down. He reached down and touched one of the roses. The petal felt like smooth velvet to his touch. Then he jerked, stabbing his finger on one of the thorns. A small curse escaped him as he brought the finger to his mouth. He turned and looked to where some stones rolled down the creek embankment at the side of his house. It was most likely a possum or one of the other small animals that made their home nearby. He was on his way back to the cabin when he heard a soft rumbling coming from behind one of the oak trees by the doorway. The rumbling made his heart rate go up. It reminded him of the rumble of a tornado he witnessed in his youth. Even though it was a cool evening, he began to sweat. He picked up speed as he moved. He was soon going as fast as his aged frame would allow. After twenty yards he had to slow down. His heart pounded in his chest and the vein is his throat pulsated. He did not know if these things were because of exertion or because his imagination played tricks on him. The rumbling had to be in his mind, there was no other explanation for it. “You senile old fool,” he said to himself. He changed course and walked directly to the area he imagined he heard the rumbling come from. As he knew it would be, there was nothing there. “You see you old fart, told you it was nothin’.” He allowed himself a short laugh, but it froze in his throat as he heard rumbling again. This time he was certain it was not his imagination. It was louder than before, loud enough that his teeth started to chatter. “WHO’S THERE?” he shouted. There was no answer, but one of his hedges moved as something ran behind it. “If that’s you Haskin boys fooling around, I’ll get my shotgun and blow you the hell away. Get back home where you belong!” He tried to sound threatening, not wanting any fear to show. He studied his hedge closely, waiting to see if it moved again. There was no movement, but his fear reached a new level when he saw a set of eyes turn to focus on him. They were green, so green that if he did not see the head they were in, he would believe they were green bicycle reflectors, shining in the bright moonlight. He turned and ran once more. If he could make it to the cabin, he could slam the heavy door and latch it. He must protect Sally. He was a step from the door and safety when he was jerked from the ground. A scream began in his throat, but stopped when he got a close look at what held him. A demon beyond his most brutal nightmare lifted him to its eye level. His feet swung in wild useless circles three feet over the earth. The eyes that terrorized him were now less than two feet away. He could not see the rest of the monster holding him simply because he was unable to tear his eyes away from the thing looking into his soul. He tried to scream again, but before he could, his body was ripped in half. Sally woke and saw her husband framed in the door as the beast tore the heart from his chest. She was trapped in a part of her mind and could not escape to tell him she heard the stories and poems he read to her each night. She was unable to tell him how much she loved him, her brain would not let her reach the surface. All she could do was drool. When the beast pulled the lungs from the body, blood flew across the room and drenched her face. Sally did the only other thing she could do. She screamed and screamed. **** Captain Brent Wilson of the Missoula County Sheriff’s Department stepped aside as the coroner rolled Mr. Decker’s body to the van that would take it to the morgue. “What have we got?” his partner, Lieutenant Rick Johnson asked as soon as he was out of his car. “Only been here five minutes myself. It looks the same as the killings from a month ago. Body ripped open, heart and lungs missing, blood covering everything twenty feet in all directions like somebody went crazy with a paint gun.” Captain Brent Wilson was tall, almost six and a half feet. At one time he was muscular, but age was taking a toll on his body. His face showed many wrinkles and the skin was beginning to sag. He always wore his cap to keep his bald head from being sunburned. He could have retired six years ago with a full pension, but his love for his job kept him going as long as he could. In just over a year, he would reach the mandatory retirement age. He was not certain he wanted to live after that. Lieutenant Johnson was four decades younger. He was twenty-five years old and was the youngest lieutenant in the sheriff’s office. Rick was five-feet eleven inches tall and when ladies discovered he was single, they worked hard to change that. He had light brown hair that he always had cut so short it never bent over. Deputy Johnson looked to his friend and asked, “Any witnesses this time?” “Not really. His wife survived, but she suffered a stroke last spring and is incapable of talking or writing. They were taking her away right as I got here. She was covered in blood and screaming like a banshee.” “That’s twice now we’ve had the same MO. Bodies shredded during a full moon.” “I checked on that first thing. When the Butler’s were butchered last month, it was the day before the full moon. This time it happened on the full moon. I didn’t think anything about the moon last month, but twice in a row like this could mean something.” “Think it’s some nut job getting his jollies hacking away on people?” “I could go with that line of thought. Problem is the crime scene people say it’s an animal. They have teeth marks on the bones of all four victims.” They spent another hour at the crime scene before returning to the sheriff’s department. They had not reached their desks before Sheriff Norris called them into his office. “What do you have so far?” he asked. “This looks similar to the Butler’s case, Sheriff,” Captain Wilson said. “Jonathan Decker had his chest ripped apart. His heart and lungs are gone. The ME’s on site evaluation said teeth marks along the ribs and spine are the same as the Butler’s. He thinks something ate them. He’ll get back with his official report by tomorrow.” “Anything else saying the two cases are related?” “Sheriff, all of these people were isolated. The Butlers lived four miles from their closest neighbor. Decker was three miles from his nearest neighbor. The Butlers and Decker lived twenty-five miles apart,” Lieutenant Johnson said while glancing through his notes. “Samuel Butler, age 31, his wife Denise Butler, age 28, and their five year old son, Kevin, were ripped open and their heart and lungs were eaten. Now I don’t know if this means anything, but the Butlers were slaughtered one day before the full moon and Decker was about a month later on the full moon. Forensics swears it was an animal that killed the Butlers. The Decker case looks the same.” “What type of animal could do something like this?” “It would have to be big. A lion or tiger could have killed them, but unless one has escaped from a zoo or circus, there should not be any of them around. That leaves a bear. A big grizzly could do this kind of damage.” “Do you think there’s any chance it could be a madman, killing during the time of the full moon?” the Sheriff asked. “Not likely,” Lieutenant Johnson replied. “So far the only DNA recovered all belonged to the victims. If someone was wielding an ax or chainsaw doing this, he would have almost certainly left some of his own DNA there.” “So the full moon time is just a coincidence?” Sheriff Norris asked. “Right now I would have to say yes. If it is a bear, it was chance encounters occurring about a month apart.” “Alright. I’m going to have to make a statement to the press in about an hour. Keep working on it and if anything new pops up, talk to me,” Sheriff Norris said as he dismissed them. For the next three weeks they worked the case but did not uncover any new evidence or leads. Animal control and the Forest Service were asked to be on the lookout for any bears in the vicinity, but they did not see anything either. **** “Brad Jameson, leave him alone,” Sara Archer whispered. “We’re not in grade school anymore, so quit acting like a kid.” “Aw hell, Sara, just look at him sitting there. He’s a nerd and he probable expects it. I bet you it’s the only attention he ever gets. Who knows, he might even like it.” Sara grabbed Brad’s arm and stopped him from throwing the crumpled sheet of notebook paper in his hand. Three rows in front of where Sara and Brad sat, Eddie Keller stared into his textbook and prayed none of the other students entering the lecture hall would pay any attention to him. He could hear Sara and Brad as they whispered, and he secretly feared Brad was right, he was a nerd. He was five feet two inches tall and weighed a hundred and five pounds. He was the smallest person in the class. It was like that for him in every class he was ever in. His arms were like skinny tubes, not showing any muscle at all. He wore glasses so thick the lenses resembled the bottom of a soda bottle. He still had the occasional outbreak of acne. Unconsciously he ran his hand over his face. It was not bad now, but he knew he could wake up in the morning and have a dozen pimples. He had only been on one date in his entire life. His mother arranged for the daughter of one of the ladies in her bridge club to go out with him. Before the night was over, the girl ditched him when some of her friends entered the theater. That time he had been three rows in back of her while she and her friends laughed at some joke. He did not overhear what they said, but he suspected he was the punch line. The more he thought about it, the more depressed he became. He did not even believe he was as cool as a nerd. According the all the TV shows and movies, they did really well in school, always making A’s in their classes and inventing all sorts of weird stuff in laboratories. He usually made B’s with an occasional C thrown in for good measure. In the only lab he had so far, he pissed off the instructor when he dropped the slides used for studying under the microscope, breaking half of them and scattering the remainder across the floor. Eddie took a peek at Brad as he sat in his chair. Brad was the kind of person he always dreamed of being. Brad was six feet two inches tall and weighed two hundred eighty pounds. All of Brad’s weight was muscle. He had clear blue eyes that twinkled when he smiled. His skin was flawless, never having suffered even a single pimple. Even more impressive to Eddie than Brad’s appearance was the air of self-confidence surrounding him. Brad knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. A person did not have to be around Brad for long before they knew they had best not get in his way. Brad was the starting right tackle for the football team and set several school records. The record Brad took the greatest pride in was the number of opposing players that had to be carried off the field. Everywhere he went, the girls ran to be with him. Eddie was brought back to the present when a piece of paper rapped him in the back of the head. He heard Sara whisper to Brad that he was a jerk, but she giggled as she did. Any more paper throwing stopped when the professor entered the lecture hall and everyone began taking notes. During most of the lecture, Eddie concentrated more on how screwed up his life was than on what the professor said. For not the first time in his twenty years of life he considered suicide. As far as he knew, if he died, the only people at his funeral would be the gravedigger, and maybe his mother if the funeral was not on the day she played Bridge at her club. After class was over he remained in his seat for ten minutes, making sure Brad had plenty of time to leave. Eddie did not believe Brad would physically harm him, but he did not want to be teased and humiliated anymore. He walked out of class and across campus to the lot where his car, a 1972 Volkswagen Beetle, was parked. Soon he was leaving the university. He went to school in Missoula, but lived in French Town, a small community in Western Montana. He passed through the town and went down the dirt road to his home. Eddie looked long and hard to find it. He did not want anything too close to town and his house was three miles from his closest neighbor. As far as he was concerned, he never wanted to socialize with anyone any more than necessary. Once home, he put the leftovers from last night’s supper into the microwave and sat down to read the newspaper. The main story was still about the mutilation of Jonathan Decker. The report compared the similarities with Decker to the Butlers a month earlier. The Butlers had lived only twenty miles from Eddie. The people investigating had not determined what animal mutilated the people. The speculation was a large grizzly. While grizzly attacks were rare, they were not unheard of. One deputy stated it was the worst scene he ever witnessed in his forty years on the force. The story ended by saying Forest Service Rangers were hunting for the animal. Eddie finished the news article and read the comic section before going outside. This was his favorite time of the month. The moon was in the first quarter, meaning he could use his small telescope to see many of the craters, but it was not so bright he had to use one of his filters. He set up in his front yard, there were fewer trees. He adjusted his glasses to get a better look at the area he studied. He worried the day would come he could not use the scope any more. His eyesight had been getting progressively worse the past five years. Soon he was softly humming to himself as he drew sketches of what he saw in his scope. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Eddie let out a small scream as he jumped up, scattering his sketches to the ground. He was ready to run if he thought he was in danger. Standing a few feet away was a woman. Eddie did not know how she got so close. He relaxed slightly when he saw she was not paying attention to him, but instead stared at the moon. “Yes,” he answered, still not completely at ease. “I can understand why lovers gaze at it. It is so captivating.” “Yes,” Eddie said again, not knowing anything about lovers. Eddie looked at her while she continued to stare at the moon. It took him a minute to place her, but he remembered seeing her around the small town the past few weeks. He believed she might be his closest neighbor, living three miles to the west of him. Eddie estimated her age at about twenty-three or maybe twenty-four at most. He wondered if she was a student at his college, but dismissed that idea at once. Everyone on campus would have known it if she was a student, even a loser like him. She had long, raven black hair, and as far as he could tell in the moonlight, deep brown eyes. She turned her head from the moon to him. “I don’t understand all the fuss about the planets and stars. If I had my way, the only thing we would study in space would be the moon.” “Yes,” Eddie said once more, unable to think of anything to add. “Where are my manners? I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Miranda Skinner.” “Hello, Miranda. I’m Eddie Keller.” “I live in the next house up the road from you, Eddie. I’m glad to meet you.” “I thought I recognized you,” Eddie said, relaxing a little more. “I’m sorry for jumping. I didn’t hear your car.” “No need to apologize, I walked. I don’t drive unless I have no choice.” “You’re an environmentalist?” “Yes, I guess you could say that. I love the forest and plains more than most. I’m a huge nature fan.” She smiled once more at him. Eddie noticed how dazzling white and straight her teeth were. She had to spend a fortune on dentists. “I was out for a walk when I saw you at your scope. I felt like talking to somebody.” Then she asked, “I’m not disturbing you, am I?” “Oh, no. Not at all. I’m going to spend half the night out here. I have plenty of time to look at the moon.” “Ah, a night owl. I like that. The daytime is always so drab. The real partying goes on during the dark.” “I guess,” Eddie said. He had not really planned to stay up much longer, but his opportunities to be with someone not making fun of him were rare. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water?” Miranda asked. “I’ve been gone longer than I planned.” “Of course,” Eddie replied. He hurried to his house to get it for her. He flipped on the light and took his biggest glass out of the cabinet. He almost dropped the glass as he filled it when Miranda said, “You have a nice home, small but not cluttered with a lot of useless items.” Again he did not hear her. He could not understand how she walked across the kitchen floor without making any noise. When he walked on it, it sounded as if it was getting ready to cave in. “Here you go,” he said, handing her the glass. “Thank you.” She put the glass to her lips and drank it in one swallow. She closed her eyes while she drank, and Eddie took the opportunity to look at her in the light. Her skin was flawless, not a blemish or scar on it. Her hair was even darker than he first believed. It came down to just below her shoulders and not a strand was out of place. She was taller than he was. He estimated about five-eleven. She was slender, with long legs. He could not see any fat on her at all. His eyes opened even wider than they already were when he saw her fingernails. Each of them was at least an inch long. They looked sharp, sharp enough to claw his eyes out if she wanted. Then he looked at her breasts. They were big, but not so big they were out of proportion to the rest of her body. ‘A good handful’ is what the guys at his college would say. She was not wearing a bra, but he saw that she did not need one. She wore tight fitting jeans and tennis shoes. She had on a flannel shirt, but it could not hide her beauty. Then it dawned on him she was more than beautiful. She was without a doubt the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, be it in person, in a magazine or a movie. He realized something had to be wrong. The cosmos would not allow a loser like him to be close to a woman like this. Fate would step in at any second and strike him dead for such a crime. He came out of his trance when he saw her watching him as he examined her. He was relieved when she did not call him a jerk. Instead she smiled and handed the glass back. Then as if nothing unusual happened said, “That was delicious.” “I have some sodas or orange juice if you would like some,” Eddie said. “No, that’s okay. I prefer water. I don’t drink anything else unless I have to.” “Isn’t that boring?” “Not in the least. It’s the way nature intended for us to be.” “Well, if you say so.” Eddie had to disagree with her there. He loved his sodas and always drank at least one glass of orange juice or apple juice each day. He felt awkward because he never had this long a conversation with a woman this attractive before. He was certain any second now she would realize what a loser he was and make up some excuse to leave. He silently thanked whatever saint it was watching over nerds when she said, “Do you want to go outside, we still have the moon?” “Yes,” he said, grateful for the chance to move. He led her out the door, noticing once more he only heard his footsteps. For the next half hour they talked about the moon. A few times he tried to bring other astronomical structures into the conversation, but she always drew him back to that one topic. “The moon goes through a series of phases,” Eddie said, hoping to impress her with his knowledge. “Right now we’re in the first quarter. In about a week there will be a full moon.” “Eddie, the next full moon will be in one hundred and fifty-eight hours. Of course, the day before the full moon and the day after, the moon is so close to full that for our purposes it is the same as full.” Eddie was quiet for a few seconds as he replayed in his mind what Miranda said. “I don’t understand. What do you mean, for our purposes?” “Oh, sorry. I meant for the average observer.” Eddie was going to respond, but before he could, he slapped his neck when a mosquito bit him. “I used to hate those things,” Miranda said. “Annoying as hell.” “You don’t anymore? I hate bugs, especially mosquitoes and fleas.” Miranda smiled at Eddie and giggled. Eddie felt a jolt of electricity course through his body as she ran a finger along his arm. Her eyes twinkled in the moonlight as she said, “The last thing I need is a case of fleas. That would be the icing on the cake.” “They bot-bother me to no end,” Eddie stuttered out, not as careful as he usually was to guard his speech since his concentration was on her touch. “Well, I’m sure I would be bothered too if they still pestered me, but they have left me alone for about as long as I can remember.” “What did you do, drink a can of Raid?” “Nothing that drastic. They simply stopped liking my taste. I think it has something to do with my scent.” “Your scent?” “Here, sniff.” Miranda held her wrist out to him. Eddie prayed it was dark enough that she could not see how red he turned as he sniffed her wrist. It was the most intimate thing he had ever done. “Cherries?” he asked. “Actually, cherry blossoms.” “The fragrance is fantastic.” “Thanks. If you don’t mind getting a little personal, I believe I can help you out with the mosquitoes. Walk away from the scope for a moment.” Eddie walked a few feet away with Miranda trailing him. He turned to face her and stood in frozen amazement as she took his hand in hers. Gently she ran her hands over his, running them up and down his arms. Then to his utter astonishment and joy, she leaned in and started running her neck and face over his neck and face. She slipped her hands under the back of his t-shirt and ran them along his back. Eddie was ashamed that he was such a skinny runt with no strength. All she would feel would be bones under the thin, underdeveloped muscles he was cursed with. She slid her hands back out of his t-shirt and up to the back of his neck and moved them across his shoulders. She pulled his head a little lower and moved her chin over his forehead. She moved her lips across his nose and then his lips. She did not kiss him, it was part of her passing her scent on to him. When she released him he did not move, not wanting to wake from the dream he was having. It had to be a dream, nothing this good could happen to Eddie Keller. Then as if nothing occurred, Miranda said, “I have to be going. It’s getting late and I don’t want to be the reason you miss a day at school. I wanted to drop by and greet my neighbor. It was nice meeting you, Eddie. Maybe I’ll stop by sometime and see you again.” “Please do,” Eddie was able to say, grateful he did not stutter once more. Miranda smiled at him and turned away. Eddie was so wrapped up in his thoughts he failed to notice she was as silent when she glided over the fallen leaves as she was when she walked into his kitchen. Once she was gone, Eddie returned to his chair by the telescope. It was late, and he should be getting ready for bed, but there was no way he was going to get any sleep soon. He replayed a dozen times his meeting with Miranda. He recalled every word she said. In his mind he saw her as she stood in his kitchen, a Goddess that for reasons unknown left her throne to visit him in his hut. He looked in his scope once more at the moon. It would soon be below the horizon, but to him it was never lovelier. He stood to put his telescope up before going back inside. As he did, he noticed a mosquito hovering next to his arm. He resisted the urge to slap it, but instead watched it move. It came to about three inches from him, and then instead of landing and feeding, it darted off. “Son of a bitch, it worked,” he said. He lay in bed for over an hour before he was able to fall asleep. Right before he drifted off, a tear trickled down his cheek. He knew he would never see Miranda again as he did tonight. She was so far out of his league even his telescope could not see that distance. She might say hello to him if they met in a store, but it would never go any further. |
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#24. Chapter 2 Eddie meets Miranda while she is the Wolf
ID #813387 entered on October 9, 2014 at 5:56pm |
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