Kiss Me, Curse Me

“What do you mean Singapore is dead?” Betty strained to see in her dark office under the candlelight—the power was out. Having the place fitted with dark wood and black leather didn’t help any. “She can’t be dead. She just brought me this coffee.” Betty lifted the mug up.

Raska stood in her orange, silk chapan robe, blonde hair awry, black eye makeup streaming down her red face. The tears fell down her face and over her hands, which she held at her throat, as if in great discomfort. Betty moved out from behind the heavy, Egyptian antique desk, “Oh my God. You’re not kidding. Where is she?”

Falling to her knees, Raska pointed toward the kitchen, before burying her head in her hands, sobbing miserably.

“What the hell is going on?” Betty burst through the swinging doors to see her Singapore, skin drained of all color. She was so white; she looked like a dead geisha upon the floor. Betty rolled the partially nude girl over to see blue lips instead of the geisha red.

“Raska. Get in here! I need to know what happened. Get me something to cover her up. What is she doing down here in her pleasant-wear?” Fumbling for anything, something, Betty covered up the dead girl’s lower regions with a dish towel and pushed her one breast back into the red, lacy bra. “Raaaskaaa!”

“What’s going on?” The new redhead came through the doors wearing the same matching bra and scanty undies that the dead girl had on.

“Rose. I need a blanket. Get Raska in here now. Now!”

“What is it?”

“You heard me. Go!”

“But . . .”

“What?”

“Sammy is sick.”

“Sammy? Oh, Jesus Christ.” Betty stood. “Where is she?”

“She’s in my bed, we slept—”

“I don’t need to know. Get Raska, and you two stay with Singapore. Okay.”

“Okay.” Rose nodded, suddenly tense and uncomfortable as she noticed the body on the wood floor. “What do I do?”

“Watch her. She’s dead. You don’t need to do anything other than what I just said. Uh, well, scratch that. Do you know where Doc lives in town? After you get Raska in here, go into town and get him. We need him here now. Tell him to come upstairs. Bring his bag with him. And for goodness sakes, get dressed. What have you been doing? Oh, never mind. I’ve got enough to deal with.”

Betty kicked off her pink stilettos and moved quickly, lifting the hem of her pink dress to haul up the stairs. The door was open, and Sammy lay sprawled face down on the stripped bed, still wearing the black-feathered corset from the Parisian cabaret.

Betty shifted Sammy higher up on the bed, leaving her on her side, and propped her head up on a white feather pillow, “Hold on girl, hold on. We’re not doing anymore dying in this house today. Hold on, baby.” Not knowing what to do, Betty just sat there and watched, wiping a cloth over the blonde girl’s head, keeping the sweat off her brow. “I’m sorry I sent you over to Ed last night. I’m sorry he was your last trick. He’s not a kind man in the sack, I’m afraid. I just put up with him. I don’t know why I do. I shouldn’t have done that to you. I should have kicked him out. Oh, it’s so hot in here, isn’t it? I’m sorry. I’ll open the window for you, dear.”

The flaking window frame was stiff, but she leaned into it, and it budged open. A horrible scene was unraveling outside—a black car with shiny saucer rims speeding down the center of D Street, a cloud of dust rolling out behind it along with a trail of screams. A grey-haired mad man was in the driver’s seat. He laughed maniacally as he swerved to hit people on the sidewalks.

“Oh my God, oh my God. What is going on around here? Hell has been unleashed,” Betty cried out, running from the room and down the stairs. She reached behind the bar for her ivory-stock rifle and exploded through the front doors and into the street. She looked up and down the street, saw legs sticking out behind parked cars and blood, so much blood, people crying, people screaming for help, dogs barking in the hot wind. She heard the car rev up in the distance, coming back up the street for another kill run.

“Not on my watch, brother.” Betty moved out into the middle of the dusty road to face the maniac, now heading straight for her. She cocked her old friend and aimed high. She’d only had to use it one time, and that time it saved her life. Would it this time?

Aiming high, she felt her alpha waves settling in as she focused on the target. She considered a tire, decided she didn’t want to deal with the psycho after the crash, and aimed for him instead. She knew she’d be arrested for this but didn’t hesitate. With one shot, she hit the windshield, shattering the glass. The car drew closer, the man putting the pedal to the metal. The assault was deafening, and those that could, gathered along the street edges to watch. Betty’s second shot hit the man in the shoulder, the glass no longer an impediment.

“Come on, Betty, you can do better than this.” She hugged the rifle tighter to her body, lined up the sights on his forehead, and pulled the trigger, taking the blow in her shoulder. She fell back a bit, and her third bullet struck him in the head. He slumped over just as he was about to swipe her, crashing sideways and sliding to a stop in front of her establishment. “Move, people move. I need to get in there.” She shoved through the crowd and pushed her way up to the car. “John Milton. What the hell? John Milton—the town preacher? What is this world coming to?” Betty fell to her knees. “I killed the town preacher.”

People backed up, aghast, but it wasn’t like the once holy man hadn’t done his fair share of wrong before his death—his victims were all dead. No one had survived. One by one, lifeless, bloody bodies were lined up along D Street—twenty corpses to count. Betty sat on the curb, feeling the world crashing down around her, swearing she’d heard a howl of in the distance. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t think. She was numb. Then she remembered—Sammy!



***



“What is it with this place?” Doby asked, standing on the edge of the reservation village with Patty, who was wearing a borrowed deputy uniform just like Doby’s. Hank was in jeans and a white t-shirt, and Ed was still in his black suit with black-and-white wingtip.

This time there were no people, no rounded-out guitar music, not even a single dog scampering about.

“Something is wrong here,” said Doby, slicking back his long, white hair then making sure that his shotgun was fully loaded.

There was a soft cry off in the distance, but the direction of it was a strain on the ears.

“I don’t think we should be here,” said Ed, expressing the same feeling they were all having. It was like death knocking on the doorstep but without a knock. “We’re not leaving,” said Doby.

Hank slapped his fist in his palm. “I don’t care what is going on around here. I’m ready.”

“We’ll search the buildings for sign of something,” said Doby.

“General store?” Patty asked. “There’s got to be someone in there.”

They moved that way, up the grey, paint-peeled steps, and through the screen door, only to step into a large spill of flour. Footsteps scattered all ways from it—not out the front door, but out toward the back of the store. They all followed the footprints in silence, each step leading to the wide-open field and forest edge.

“Where’d they go?” asked Hank.

“Shhhh,” said Doby putting his hand down to them for silence. He lifted his shotgun, ready for anything. “I don’t think we’re going to find anyone in this town. Whatever has happened here, these folks left in a hurry. I say we head to those cabins we were at yesterday, see what we can find out there.”

“How do you know no one is hiding out in here?” said Hank, kicking the flour off the last step. “I’m going up those stairs back there and see what I can find.”

“Fine, Hank. You go ahead and catch up with us. We’re heading out that way.” Doby nodded at the narrow trail that split the trees.

“Just come with us, Hank,” said Patty.

“No. I’m going up there. I’ll catch up. I just don’t think they would have abandoned the store like this.”

Ed just gave Hank a grin, shaking his head at Hank’s rebellion. “I’m with you, Sheriff,” Ed said a little too loud and with a little too much energy, given the circumstances.

Doby frowned at Ed’s new tone, wary. “What’ s up with that, Ed?” Then to Hank he said, “Fine, we’ll see you. Take it easy up there.”

“I need a gat,” said Hank.

The three older men, now all on the front grass, looked at each other and shrugged. “You’ll be fine. No one’s in there,” said Patty.



***



As the three made for the trail, Hank snuck into the back of the shop. It was packed with burlap bags containing all sorts of goods to be sold. It was neat and orderly and smelled of dusty old herbs.

Hank found a rake lodged behind the bags and took it with him on his search. There was no light going up those old, narrow steps, and the smell up there was bad. Hank switched breathing from his nose to his mouth just to make the climb tolerable. .

At the top was a small bedroom with one window letting in a small amount of light—essentially empty save for three single beds. Two of the beds were made up with bright, multi-colored blankets. On the last bed, tucked up under the sloped, white ceiling in the far corner, lay what appeared to be a body underneath a white sheet. “Oh yeah. I’m leaving,” said Hank, running back down the stairs so fast that he tripped halfway down, rolling his ankle. He cried out in pain, “Awww . . . not what I need right now.”

“And what is that exactly?” A silhouette of very thin man stood behind him at the top of the steps.

Swearing, Hank saw a flash of yellow from the stranger’s eyes and got the definite feeling that something very bad was about to happen. He quickly hobbled out the back door and sprinted as best he could toward the trail.

“I knew it, I just knew it,” he mumbled to himself, then hollered to his three counterparts farther ahead on the trail: “Wait up, guys!” But, he heard nothing, saw no one. He was alone amidst the long, lean, thickly packed pines under a fast-darkening sky.

He could sense that he was being followed. A seemingly endless howl shattered the silence around him. Hank froze there on the trail—a flash of white flicked by him amongst the trees. He swung around to see the nose of a gleaming revolver pointed right at him. He closed his eyes.

“Duck, son.” It was Patty, taking aim at the wolf ahead of them on the trail. It had paused for just a second.

The shot rang out, and the wolf darted away.

“Come on, Hank. Stop messing around here.” Patty eyed the forest for signs of the animal. He didn’t like dogs of any kind, had a bad memory from when he was a kid.

“You waited for me?” Hank limped behind Patty, wishing he could have his own gun.

“Of course. You’re like a son to me.”

Hank beamed, despite his distress. It was the first positive emotion he’d felt in days. His own father hadn’t been much help to him through the crisis, and his mother had just been a worrisome pile of words that had no sense of direction—no guidance—and guidance was all he had been looking for—that or comfort. She had provided neither to him.

“It’s good you checked the place out, okay? I wanted to go up there myself, but Doby . . . he’s on a mission here, and as an acting deputy, I do have to follow command.”

“I know that, really I do.” Hank tried to keep pace through his increasing pain and stiffness.

“What happened to you back there?”

“I thought it was a dead body. It stunk like one. I haven’t smelled one before, but the smell was bad enough. It was a man. I don’t know who or what’s going on, but I got the blazes out of there.”

“He must be the shop owner. Still, it doesn’t make sense. If something was awry in the town, why’d he stay behind?”

“Maybe he caused it. Whatever it was . . . I mean, I got the creeps from him. I think he was going to kill me.”

“What? Why?” Patty climbed over a downed tree on their path then assisted Hank, who was limping worse now. “It was his tone. I don’t know. He sounded . . . possessed. Maybe it was a dead body in that room, and he had just been hiding, or I didn’t notice him . . . or something.” Hank wasn’t sure now what he had seen, other than that it bothered him on a deep and horrifying level. He didn’t mention all of the details, like the flashing, yellow eyes, to Patty as he didn’t want to sound crazy or, even worse, weak.

“We could go back and see this man. Maybe he knows something.”

“No. No need to do that. We can keep going here. It’s Ahanu we’re after. I’m after.” Going back was the last thing Hank wanted to do, so he kept the manhunt first and foremost in his mind.

“We’ll ask Doby. I think he was certain no one was there in that town, not that I can even guess why he’d think such a thing without a proper search. I just don’t get the way he operates sometimes. It’s like he’s on to something I’m not aware of.” He pointed ahead of them on the trail. “We’re almost caught up; I can see Ed’s big, dumb head. . . HEY!” Patty yelled.

Ed poked Doby to get his attention, but Doby was intently examining something on the forest floor. “There’s a man back there,” said Patty as they approached. “Hank saw him.”

“I know,” said Doby. “I heard him already.”

Hank sneered, “Why’d you let me go up there alone then?”

“You’re fine, aren’t you?” Doby asked, continuing his poking around.

“What is it?” asked Patty.

“Blood. There’s fresh blood here. That man that you saw. Was he bleeding, injured, did you notice anything unusual? Anything at all, Hank?”

“Well . . . maybe.”

“Maybe, have out with it then,” Doby picked up a leaf with a large drop of blood on it.

“I was just seeing things, that’s all.”

The three men stood, all eyes on Hank—an unspoken pressure for the kid to speak. “His eyes were funny, like an animal. They flashed out from the dark, like the light reflected on them or something.”

Doby sniffed the leaf, “It looks like someone very injured came through these woods. The direction, coming or going, I’m not too sure of. They should be dead by the looks of the amount of the blood I’ve seen. It’s definitely a man.”

“That room stunk, but there was no blood. I would have noticed that.”

“Well, thanks for going up there,” said Doby.

“Sure. I guess. I don’t get it, but sure,” said Hank.

“I wanted to see what the man would do. I know that he’s following us now,” said Doby.

In a sudden, frantic movement, Hank turned to check the trail behind them, seeing nothing. He seemed close to completely losing it.

“How do you know that?” said Ed to Doby.

“I saw him back there on the trail, right behind them just as they caught up,” said Doby.

“Now what?” asked Patty, looking down the trail for a glimpse of this person, gun at the ready. No movement, no sound.

“We keep going. He didn’t do anything to Hank when he had the chance back there, which is what I wanted to find out and—”

“What are you saying? You used me for bait?” Hank was miffed.

“You could say that,” said Doby. “Willing bait—you were up for it. Let’s see what he does. We keep going. Ahanu’s mother’s place is just up here.”



***



The trail of blood led the young lovers and Roy to the looming maw of the cave. It seemed even blacker than before as the sun began its decent in the sky.

“I don’t want to go back in there. It feels different, much different than before. I don’t like it.” The fear in Coreen’s voice was obvious.

“That’s where he is though. He’s in there—my father.”

“How do you know this?” Roy asked, eyes curious. “I just know. This is where he’d go. I mean, well, it’s the only place I can think of. It all starts here. This is the birthplace of the curse.”

“Curse?” asked Ron.

“Yes, the wolf’s curse. The dead are in there. He collects them.”

“I’m definitely not going in there,” said Coreen.

“We have to go. We have to kill him. We have to finish this.” Ahanu kicked the ground.

“Wait a minute. Let’s take one step back here. Assuming we go in there, we have no supplies, we don’t have a thing—no food, no water. We could get lost,” said Roy, moving to the opening and ducking in at the cave entrance. He turned to face the young couple.

“I know my way around. I can see just fine.” Ahanu closed his eyes, hearing a very, very distant scream. He felt deep pain in that scream. It was a call to him.

“No,” he fumbled back suddenly. “No, this can’t be. He’s not here.” Ahanu fell to the ground and tucked himself into a ball to better focus on what he’d just heard. He cleared his thoughts and reached out into the woods with his wolf senses. He pierced through the trees, under the brush, down through the dirt, and back up again to the peaks of the pines, only to find his sense of smell zooming in on a place he knew well . . . down and down he went till he settled on the location.

He saw the cabin where he was born in its early, skeletal form, fresh-cut wood, no walls, just the simple frame. He stood in the center and watched it take shape, saw his mother, in her younger days, looking fresh and happy, belly big, then small from having her baby. He saw his father bringing in the latest catch; over and over they did the same things, season to season, and his grandmother barely moved from her chair in the living room. Everything flashed before him in a matter of seconds, even his sister’s death, body covered in her bedroom while his mother wept at night. He saw himself leave for the woods and come back day after day. But his days there in those places increased till one day he just didn’t come home, till he stood where he was in that very moment.

Darkness came next as he saw a knife rise in the air over his sweet mother, standing alone in her shattered bedroom, cowering from the evil that wanted to take her soul. It took just one stab, one scream of pain, and she fell to the ground, the blood following the cracks of the hardwood flooring, her eyes closing for the last time.

“He can’t go there. He just can’t. He told me he loved her. He told me this. He wouldn’t kill her if he loved her.”

“What? What are you taking about, boy? A second ago, you were so certain he was here. Where are you talking about now?” Roy stepped into the cave a bit more. He wanted to go all the way in. He felt a pull. Something wanted him to go in. He took on step back toward the entrance, watching the sky turn red above.

“It’s my mother. Kanti’s there with her. I heard her scream, but it’s not from the present. It’s from the future. It hasn’t happened yet. We have to go to her.”

Coreen took his hand. “What? How do you know this?”

“I saw it—a vision. I just know.” Ahanu faced the woods. “Come on.” He turned to motion for Roy to follow but he was gone.





“Breathe, Sammy, breathe,” Betty said, brushing the sweat from Sammy’s forehead. She knew the girl was young but had no idea her real age. She recalled back to almost two years ago when they’d first met. . .



“I’m eighteen,” Sammy said, standing on the back doorstep of Betty’s place. The girl looked like she’d been wandering the desert for a while with bruises on her exposed skin, wearing torn pants and a t-shirt. Some man’s clothes. “I’m not hiring right now,” Betty said, playing along.

“I’ll do anything. I don’t care,” Sammy fell to the ground tired and just sat there staring at Betty’s shiny, black stilettos. “Those are new, aren’t they?” When the girl looked up, Betty saw wanting and some unknown horror. “You shouldn’t just say you’ll do anything. Because one day someone will take you up on your offer, and it might not be good.” Betty then gave her an exaggerated wave of the hand, “Oh, just come in already. I can’t bear to see you looking like that another minute. If it’s pity you’re looking for, I don’t have any, but damn those clothes you have on are just dreadful.”

The months passed, and Betty kept her little Sammy in the kitchen, cooking and cleaning up. It wasn’t till she’d been there a full year that Sammy expressed interest in more than a frying pan and an apron.

“Men. You want—? You know, there’s no going back once you start this thing that you’re thinking of. It’s not as romantic as it looks, my dear.”

“I’ve seen it once or twice,” Sammy just smiled at Betty as she continued to tackle the sink of dirty dishes.

“Oh, have you now? And what is it you think you saw?”

Sammy shimmied her hips about.

“Oh, that’s enough of that!” Betty grabbed the dishtowel and smacked Sammy on the bottom with it. “Okay, finish up here, then come to my quarters. We’ll dress you, and you’re on for tonight. It’s a BIG night for you, my girl—to the highest bidder. I’ll set it up.”

“I’m not a virgin,” Sammy lowered her eyes.

“I know, dear. It was written all over your face the night you first came here. But it’s not like they know. We’ll just pretend, okay?”

Sammy glowed like a room full of light as she continued washing those dishes.

Her first night had gone very well. An older man had outbid the rest, and Sammy led him up those stairs to her new bedroom like she’d done it a hundred times.

Betty watched her ascent, filled with memories of her first time taking a man herself. She’d never turned back, never regretted her decision for a second.



Until now.

The last breath escaped Sammy’s lips.

“No, no. . .” Betty wailed and erupted into tears—of pain, sorrow, anger, and the unknown cause of all this death in her dwelling.

“Oh, my little Sammy,” said Betty, picking up the dead girl and walking with her slowly to the top of the stairs. “Why you, of all of them? Why you? Is it because you are the most innocent of them all? Is that why? There is something god-awful wrong here.”

Betty called out to the girls in the house. “Everyone, gather around.” She waited as the girls straggled out of their room in their many colors of robes, leaving behind the odd customer. They gasped at the sight of Betty holding Sammy’s pale, lifeless body.

“I mean everyone! Everyone ! Out of your rooms, now!” she screamed at the few who lagged behind.

Finally they were all present to witness the agony, inhale the fear. “Sammy and Singapore are both dead. All hell is breaking loose in this town. We are closed for the night.”

One interrupted, “But . . . we’ve never closed, not for anything.”

“These girls are gone.” Betty cried openly in front of them. “We will honor their deaths. Girls, I don’t know what is coming next. I fear that this is not over. In fact, I know that it is not over.”

As Betty hung her head in sorrow and grief, Doc walked in the front door with Rose, quickly shutting the door behind him, locking it. Loud banging rang out all around them.

“They’re trying to get in,” a panicked Rose said.

“Who?” Betty’s tears stopped.

“The town,” said Doc. “You killed their preacher. They want your head.”



***



The first set of cabins had proven to be empty just like the village.

“Where are they all?” Patty stepped off the last cabin step and followed the rest of the men on the trail toward Dyani’s place.

“I haven’t a clue,” said Doby. “And they mobilized quickly. They all left at the same time. Candles are still lit, food on the stove, things dropped on the floor as if they all just vanished into thin air.”

“They’ve got to be somewhere, a whole village just doesn’t up and vanish,” said Ed. “I’ve seen these folk. They’re up to stuff. They hide. They’re around, we just can’t see them.”

“That’s called paranoia, Ed,” said Doby, leading the way through the denser trees.

Hank kept his mouth shut, looking over his shoulder frequently, brow furrowed. All he could think about was that disturbing man and the fact that he was following them. He didn’t actually see him back there, but he could feel a presence watching them. Ed’s theory was making sense to him.

“We’re not looking for them anyway,” said Doby. “We only have one man to catch here. . . excuse me, teen to catch.”

All went quiet as they walked on longer. Teen wasn’t the right word for Ahanu, Hank thought, recalling his opponent’s strength. Ahanu had completely overpowered him in a second, and it wasn’t as if Hank was just some string bean. “I don’t know,” said Hank, checking his back for the twentieth time. But this time, he saw something, a movement. “What? You got the heebie jeebies?” Ed badgered.

“Man, just shut up,” said Hank. “We just gotta get through this thing. Get this guy. Get the hell out of here already. That goon is back there. He’s crazy or something.”

“Maybe you’re crazy or something,” said Ed, just plain mean.

“Quit it, you two,” said Doby. “We’re here.”

The cabin looked unassuming.

“There’s no way she left. She’d wait for her son,” said Hank as the three made their way onto the tidy patio. There were new hanging pots of flowers swinging above their heads in the warm, early-night breeze.

Doby knocked on the door, not expecting an answer, and they didn’t get one. “Hello? It’s the sheriff here.”

Hank looked back at the forest, seeing a flash of yellow eyes vanish behind a black tree trunk, “I don’t like this.”

Doby and Patty moved to the windows, while Ed and Hank focused on the trees behind them. Ed’s cockiness was fading as he too took on a posture of unease. “I’m with Hank here. We’re not alone.”

“I know that,” said Doby, focusing inside at the shadows. He called out, “Open up. Let us in. We know you’re in there. We’re just here for the boy, that’s all. Just hand him over, and we’ll go on our way. We just need to talk to him.”

“I’ll say,” said Hank staring at the same spot on the trail. He pointed for Ed to look.

“I don’t see anything,” said Ed.

Hank leaned into Ed and whispered, “You don’t have an extra bat on ya, do you?”

Ed frowned but eventually pulled a long hunting knife from his ankle sheath and gave it to him. “I want this back. Was my dad’s. Never knew the man. He used this in the war, killed a few Japs with it. I do know that.”

The knife looked worn, looked like it had split some skins. Hank thanked Ed, admiring the solid handle before tucking it under his belt.

The door creaked open. “Come inside. You need to get out of the open. He’s coming.”

“Who’s coming?” asked Doby, as all four of them squeezed into the front living room.

Dyani locked the door behind them and hung a long, white-feathered arrow over the door knob. She anxiously fidgeted with it till it hung perfectly pointing left. “The wolf spirit.” She led them into the kitchen, through the pantry stocked with jars of food, and down the stairs to their basement. Grandma was sitting on the floor, legs crossed, eyes closed as if in a deep meditation. Dyani closed the door and the four men turned in circles, gazing in awe at the plethora of drums, all shapes and sizes and phases of development, scattered about the room.

“Is this the party room?” asked Hank.

The old woman on the floor scowled at him and threw words at him in her native tongue.

“I guess not,” said Ed.

“We don’t have to explain ourselves. My husband makes these drums. This is where he works.” Dyani pointed to the table in the corner, littered with knives and wooden statues at various stages of carving.

“You do have to explain the wolf spirit,” said the sheriff. “Where’s everyone in your village? Where is your son?”

Grandma was dressed in a spectacular, multicolored gown, patterned in diamond shapes. . She pointed at Doby and spoke her mind, though they could not understand a word. She was mad. That’s all they could tell. “Dam, dam,” the old woman said lastly.

“I’ll translate for my mother,” Dyani said, taking a seat on the floor beside the old woman, and crossing her legs. She wore a simple, white dress just like the one she wore the day before—hand-sewn. Her hair was tied back neatly in a braid to match her mother’s white braid. “She’s upset. My husband and eldest never came home, and I thought my youngest was with you. We’ve been alone here. We’ve seen no one. She says the wolf spirit is free. He’s awake. He’s going to take all of us till he is full. The village is on orders that if he awakens, we go to the north to take shelter there. We have been unable to leave, as my mother . . . she is too old to make that journey.”

“The north?” Doby asked.

“Yes. We have supplies buried up north in our underground winter homes. Once a year, we go in and rotate old supplies with new supplies. We do it faithfully and it is a ritual that no one questions. The winters have not been too bad lately. We have not needed to go there in some time. We lost many on the wolf’s last awakening. Our elders keep the memories alive in the stories told to our tribe on the eve of every salmon harvest. The salmon are his gift from the water. They give us life just as the wolf gives us life.”

Grandma lowered her head as if in prayer.

Ed took a seat at the worktable, and the other three stood. “I don’t get it. The entire town left on the basis of a myth.”

“No. Someone has seen the wolf, and someone has died,” said Dyani.

Patty closed his eyes, “Two people are dead. My daughter and Doug.”

“Yes, that is only the beginning,” said Dyani. “He will come for us. Here. He finds everyone. He touches every family. Everyone must bleed for him.”

“And you think that arrow up there will stop him?” said Ed, scratching at the table with one of the knives.

“It wards off evil. I don’t know if it will work, but that is all we have,” said Dyani.

Checking that the door to the basement was locked again, Doby knelt down in front of the two women, “I’m not sure about this tale of yours, but I do know that we are being followed.”

Hank interrupted, “I saw a wolf in the woods, and there’s a man too. He followed us from the village.”

The two women looked at each other, taking hands. Grandma muttered a few desperate words.

“Then it is too late for us,” said Dyani.



***