The Howling (9 page)

"So I understand."

Volkmann shook his head sadly. "Yes, like so many small towns, I fear Drago is dying."

Oriole spoke up. "Bill Volkmann, if you start talking all gloomy like that you'll talk Roy and Karyn right out of Drago."

The doctor gave a soft laugh. "As long as we have people with your spirit, Oriole, the town will be all right."

"How much do I owe you, Doctor?" Roy said.

"Let me see ... twenty-five dollars will cover it, but there's no hurry."

Roy went to the desk and pulled out a checkbook. "I come from a family of compulsive bill payers, so I'd just as soon keep us even from the start."

Volkmann smiled. "It would be foolish of me to argue with that."

After Roy had driven the doctor and Oriole back to town he hurried home to find Karyn sleeping peacefully. Her breathing was deep and regular, her color good. Roy leaned down and kissed her cheek softly, relieved.

A few minutes later he was very glad that she was asleep. Because in sleep she could not hear what he heard off somewhere in the night. The howling.

The pills that Dr. Volkmann left did wonders for Karyn's nerves over the next two days. The grisly discovery in the woods seemed little more than a bad dream now.

Roy stayed close to her and was very attentive. Karyn kept telling him she was really all right, but she could see in his eyes that he was not convinced.

On the second day Roy drove over to Pinyon and came back with a shotgun.

"What's that for?" Karyn asked.

"It's a confidence builder," Roy said. "So you'll know you have a weapon in the house when I'm not here."

"But I've never fired a gun in my life."

"This one's very simple to operate. I can show you how in a few minutes."

They went out to a clearing in the woods and Roy set up a cardboard box for a target. He paced off twenty feet.

"No point in worrying about hitting anything farther away than this," he said.

The gun was a lightweight, single-barrel, 12-gauge model. Roy showed Karyn how to hold it and load it and finally how to pull back the hammer and fire. The first time it jolted her shoulder and the shot spattered up into the trees. Roy had her change her stance, and after that it was not so bad.

It took several more shots before she learned not to flinch when the gun went off, and even then she was still hitting the dirt a foot or so to the right of the box.

"You're jerking the barrel over when you pull the trigger," Roy said. "Squeeze it gently."

To Karyn the whole business seemed foolish, but if Roy had gone to all the trouble of getting the gun for her, the least she could do was go along with him. She followed his directions and soon was hitting the target.

The next day Roy drove into Drago for the mail and came back muttering to himself.

"Something the matter?" Karyn asked.

"They've got trouble at the office. Somebody turned up a bunch of errors in a set of weapons-system books we did, and there's a man from the Department of Defense coming in this afternoon for explanations."

"Will you have to be there?"

"I'm afraid so. It will probably be a late session tonight, and I may have to go back in tomorrow."

"It would be silly for you to drive all the way back here, Karyn said. "Why don't you stay overnight in Los Angeles and come home tomorrow when you've finished?"

"You're sure you'll be all right?"

"I'm sure. Anyway, I have your blunderbuss to deal with anything that goes bump in the night."

After several more assurances from Karyn, Roy gathered his things quickly and drove off for the city.

With Roy gone, Karyn suddenly felt the emptiness and the isolation of the house. Although she was already ahead of schedule, she went to the bathroom and took another of Dr. Volkmann's tranquilizers.

About noon there was a knock on the door. Karyn opened it and found a young couple standing outside. They were dressed in hiking clothes. The boy carried a backpack and had one arm around the girl, supporting her.

"I wonder if we could use your phone?" the boy said. "My friend's had a fall and hurt her ankle."

"We left our van parked down in the village," the girl said.

"I'm sorry," Karyn said, "I don't have a phone. My car isn't here either, so I can't offer you a ride in. How bad is the ankle?"

"It's just a slight sprain from the looks of it," the boy said, "but it's too painful to walk on unless it's wrapped up."

"I lost the first-aid kit with my pack when I fell," the girl said. "We probably should have stayed on the easy trail up the mountain, but I wanted to try the hard way."

"Come inside," Karyn said. "I have some bandages and things."

"We'd appreciate it," the boy said. "This one doesn't look very heavy, but I don't think I could carry her much farther."

The girl made a face at him as he lifted her gently and carried her inside to the sofa.

The young couple introduced themselves as Neal Edwards and Pam Sealander. They lived together in Santa Barbara and often went backpacking in these mountains. They were a bright, attractive pair, and Karyn felt refreshed by their company.

Karyn found a package of Epsom salts with the medical supplies, and prepared a solution in a deep basin.

"Soak your foot in this," she told Pam, "and the swelling is supposed to go down. Don't ask me why, but it works."

Meanwhile Neal went outside and came back with a stout forked branch. He used a hatchet to shape it into a serviceable crutch.

"Now we're all set," Neal said. "As soon as the swelling goes down we can tape up the ankle and Pam should be able to walk all right with the crutch."

"There's no hurry, is there?" Karyn said. "I'm glad to have some company. Why don't I make some sandwiches?"

"We sure wouldn't turn them down," Neal said, grinning.

Karyn prepared a tray of sandwiches and a pot of coffee. The three of them sat together at the table eating and enjoying the cool afternoon.

"It's lucky for us somebody was living here," Pam said. "This house has been empty for years."

"Yes, I know," Karyn said. "My husband and I just took a six-month lease on the place."

"I didn't think you looked like regular Drago people," Neal said.

"Oh? Why not?"

"It's hard to say exactly. They're ... different. I guess part of it is living in this isolated valley out of the mainstream. And maybe it's a heritage they bring from the old country."

"Old country?"

"I just meant that most of the people in Drago seem to be from the same European background. They're sort of a closed society."

"Some of them seem quite friendly," Karyn said.

"I'm sure they are once you get to know them," Pam said. "A lot of people are prejudiced because of the stories."

"What stories?" Karyn had an uncomfortable feeling she had been in this conversation before.

"Just a lot of tall tales," Neal said. "The kind of thing kids make up around a campfire. Nothing you'd take seriously."

"Maybe you wouldn't," Pam said, "but I'd give it a lot of thought before I came into this valley alone. They say people disappear here without a trace."

"Sure, it's the Haunted Forest," Neal said, laughing. He put an arm around the girl's shoulder. "Anyway, you've got big strong me along for protection."

Pam laughed with him. "I'm so lucky."

Karyn was relieved that the conversation had turned away from things she did not want to hear. She excused herself for a moment and took another tranquilizer. She forgot what it was that had disturbed her. It didn't matter.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. The young couple told Karyn about their life in Santa Barbara, and she told them about growing up in New York and how different it was in California. Before anyone realized it the sun was gone and the mountain shadows had reached into the valley.

Neal looked out the window, then checked his watch. "It's getting late. How's the ankle, Pam?"

The girl got to her feet and took a few steps with the makeshift crutch. "It feels a lot better. I can make it all right if we go slowly."

"You're welcome to spend the night here," Karyn said. "There's an extra bedroom."

"Thanks," Neal said, "but we really should be getting back. There's a path through the woods not far from here that will take us into town faster than your road."

"Yes, I know the path," Karyn said.

Neal wrapped Pam's foot and ankle tightly with adhesive tape, and they said goodbye to Karyn, telling her to look them up if she came to Santa Barbara. With Neal's powerful flashlight showing the way, they moved off toward the path. Karyn watched until the light disappeared among the trees. Then she bolted the door, took a sleeping pill, and began to prepare for bed.

Neal and Pam were about halfway to the village when Pam stopped suddenly. Resting on her makeshift crutch, she put a hand on the boy's arm.

"What is it?" he said.

"I thought I heard something. Out there."

"Heard what?"

"Listen."

Silence for a moment, then a sharp rustling of the brush as something moved toward them. Something big. Neal beamed the flashlight into the darkness toward the sound.

It came at them fast, bright-orange eyes reflecting the light.

"Neal, what is it?" Pam cried.

Instinctively, Neal placed himself in front of the girl. "I don't know."

Heedless of the heavy undergrowth, the beast crashed toward them. From ten feet away it sprang, and for an instant seemed to hang in the air - thick fur bristling, muscles tensed, black lips drawn back along the muzzle showing vicious yellow teeth.

"My god!" Neal gasped, and the beast was on him. It hit him high on the chest, the forepaws bearing him to the ground. The boy had time for one terrible scream before the teeth tore into his windpipe.

The flashlight rolled crazily along the path, throwing leaping shadows among the trees. Pam, her mouth open and dry with terror, used her crutch to club at the dark snarling form that crouched over Neal's body. The jaws worked and there was a sickening crunch of bone.

Again and again Pam struck at the animal without effect. At last the crutch broke in her hands and the beast raised its head and looked at her. The muzzle was dark and dripping.

"No! Oh, no!" the girl screamed. She turned to run, but the ankle gave way and she stumbled and fell forward. The animal landed on her back, blasting the air from her lungs. Her last sensation was the powerful jaws clamping onto the base of her skull.

Karyn awoke slowly, reluctantly, from the drugged sleep. Outside the morning was bright and fresh, but to Karyn the world seemed to exist on the far side of a gray scrim curtain. Her mouth was stale. It was an effort to move her limbs.

She put an arm over to touch Roy, but his side of the bed was empty. It was several minutes before her sluggish mind recalled that Roy had spent the night in the city. It would have been sweet just to lie there in bed thinking about nothing. Pull the comforter up over her head and shut out the morning. Karyn sighed. She really ought to get up, she told herself.

Getting out of bed was so much work that she had to sit on the edge for a minute and rest. At last she stood up and went to the closet. She pulled on an old bathrobe of Roy's. It was too much bother to think about a shower or brushing out her hair.

She went into the kitchen, but fixing breakfast held no appeal. There were dishes unwashed from the day before, but they could wait. She walked into the livingroom and sat in the chair by the window and looked down at her hands.

She was still sitting in the chair at eleven-thirty when a car pulled up outside. Footsteps crunched across the drying grass in the clearing. Someone knocked at the door. With a heavy sigh Karyn rose from the chair and walked over to see who it was.

Chris Halloran stood in the doorway looking casual and fresh in checked slacks and a brown pullover sweater. The smile of greeting he had ready stiffened when he took a look at Karyn.

"Why, Chris, what a surprise."

It took him a second to answer. "Hello, Karyn. I had a couple of days off, so I thought I'd drive out and see how you guys are doing."

"That's nice."

He waited for her to say something else. When she didn't, he said, "Is it all right if I come in?"

Karyn put on a smile. It felt lopsided. "Yes, of course, please come in, Chris. I'm a little slow this morning."

Chris came into the room, keeping his eyes on Karyn. "Where's Roy?"

"He went into the city. It seems he has to spend more time in Los Angeles than he thought he would. Isn't that interesting?"

"Karyn, are you all right?"

"Why? Is something the matter?"

"You look a little ... tired."

Karyn looked down at the old robe she was wearing and put a hand up to touch her unbrushed hair. "Oh, you mean this. I hadn't gotten around to getting dressed yet. What time is it, anyway?"

"Almost noon."

"Really? I must have dozed off in the chair."

"I should have let you know I was coming, but I didn't decide myself until this morning."

"No, that's all right. I'm always glad to see you. Can I get you anything?"

"I'm fine, Karyn. Sit down, please."

"I think I will, if you don't mind." She returned to the chair by the window and eased into it. It was true that she was glad to see Chris, but keeping the conversation going was an effort.

Chris perched uncomfortably on the edge of the sofa. "So tell me what's been happening."

"Not very much. It's a quiet life up here. We lost Lady."

"Lost her? What happened?"

Karyn looked out the window, her face empty of expression. "Something caught her in the woods and killed her."

Chris leaned forward, staring at her. "What are you talking about?
What
caught her?"

Karyn shrugged her shoulders. She felt loose and disjointed wearing the oversized robe. "I don't know what it was. The sheriff - but he's not really a sheriff - says it was a coyote. Or maybe it was an owl." She giggled suddenly and put a hand over her mouth like a little girl caught laughing in class.