Wolf Moon Rising (59 page)

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wolf ’s dark shadow.

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Lara Parker

Listen,” Carolyn whispered when they heard knocking. “It’s

beating on the doors. And its cry— it sounds almost human.”

Jackie stared at the gun Carolyn had retrieved from the sec-

retary along with a box of bullets. She recognized the revolver. It was the same cowboy pistol Liz had called her “trusty six- shooter,”

the one she had fi red at the Mafi a crooks disguised as cops. Jackie remembered the Old West design, the ivory handle, and the en-graving on the long barrel. Again she thought of Liz’s incredible

courage when they drove off in the Duesenberg, of Liz perched

on the running board of the car, the pistol cocked and aimed.

She looked at Carolyn warily. “You don’t know how to fi re

that, do you?”

“Sure I do. Roger gave me a lesson a couple of years ago. Af-

ter a lot of nagging. It’s a Colt 45 revolver. It’s easy. See the cylinder?” Carolyn pressed her thumb on the latch, and the chamber

fell open. “It’s an heirloom— belonged to my great grandfather.”

“If it’s so old, it probably won’t work.”

“Oh, Roger keeps it cleaned and oiled. It’s one of his trea-

sures.”

“Listen, Carolyn, you shouldn’t try to shoot the wolf. It’s

too dangerous. What if he attacks us?” She paused. “As soon as

the moon goes down it’ll leave.”

“Th

e moon? What the hell are you talking about?” Carolyn

spun the chamber and smiled. “You know, Jackie, you should

think about getting a new coat. Th

at one looks, uh . . . very

much loved.” Hurrying, she tried opening the box of bullets, but

the paper lid was stuck.

“Here, let me help,” said Jackie, and she grabbed the box

and spilled the bullets on the fl oor.

“Hey! What are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“I— I don’t want you to fi re that gun.”

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Carolyn was on the fl oor scooping up the bullets. “Well,

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sorry, but I’m going to.”

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Desperate, Jackie reached for the gun and had her hand on

the barrel when Carolyn snatched it away. “Don’t do that!” She

got to her feet and backed up. “Wow, I knew there was some-

thing funny about you. David said so, but I didn’t believe him.”

“Carolyn, stop, there’s something you should know. Th

e

wolf is not what you think. It’s . . . it’s magical, it’s enchanted . . .”

“Yeah, and wouldn’t it be great if we killed it?” She slipped

the bullets one by one into the chamber. “Th

e police are idiots.

Th

ey haven’t been able to track it down. Imagine. Th

e Collinses

do something right for a change.” She snapped the cylinder into

place and tested the hammer. “I’m going around to the kitchen

where I can watch for it in the dark, and open the window above

the sink just a crack.” She stopped and looked at Jackie. “You

coming?”

A shadow passed by the window outside the curtains.

“Look!” Carolyn shrieked. “Oh, God. Th

ere it is, Jackie. It’s

huge. It’s circling the house. I think it wants to get in. Let’s get out of here!”

“Carolyn, wait!” Jackie’s mind was a blur. Was there some

way she could keep the gun from fi ring? And if the wolf did get

in, could she control it? She didn’t think so. None of her spells

would work now. Her heart pounding, she followed Carolyn

toward the kitchen, but then there was a crash and the splinter-

ing of glass and wood— sounds from the other side of the

house.

“Oh, God! It’s broken in!” Carolyn cried. “It’s in the ball-

room.” Th

ey could hear the beast snuffl

ing, and when they crept

back into the foyer they saw the shadow moving in the space be-

neath the double doors and heard the claws scratching at the pan-

els. Th

en the wolf threw its bulk against the frame, and the door

shuddered on its hinges.

“Quick! We can hide in there,” Carolyn whispered, backing

into the drawing room. “Get behind the couch.” Th

e girls crept

across the carpet and crouched behind the sofa, afraid to

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breathe, waiting, listening. Carolyn pulled back on the hammer

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and aimed, the gun resting on the wooden frame, but the ball-

room was quiet again.

“Where’d it go?”

“Maybe it took off ,” Jackie said as relief poured through her.

David fl ew down the stair and into the back corridor smell-

ing Collinwood’s familiar odor of dust and old rugs and

heavy draperies, and many fi res in the fi replaces, as though for

the fi rst time. Th

e library was shadowed, the spines of the books

gleamed in moon dust that poured through the leaded window

where shards of glass formed a lethal ring of daggers.

David lunged for the bookcase, and his hands slid franti-

cally over the books— where was it? Th

e
Inferno
— he could not

see it in the dim light.

He reached for the lamp and clicked it on, but at the same

moment there was a thumping outside, and his heart jumped

against his ribs. Th

e window was shadowed with something

huge that hovered there, the moon was blotted out, and then he

saw the wolf ’s huge head encircled by the glass sunburst.

David drew back against the shelves, reaching behind him

for the book that sprung the latch, remembering that it stood

next to one large black tome on the shelf— the Holy Bible— and

his hand found the wide spine with the embossed letters, and

then, beside it, the small red volume. He pushed and pushed

again, and then he heard the creak of the secret hinge. Th

e dark

opening gaped, and a wave of cold air fl oated into the room with

odors of earth and decay. Th

en David heard gunshots coming

from the drawing room.

As they were about to creep from their hiding place, the girls

heard a crashing sound, and the door rebounded with the

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weight of the wolf ’s charge. Th

e wooden portal burst from its

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hinges and collapsed on the marble fl oor. Sparks fl ying from its

fur, the werewolf sprang into the foyer and landed on four feet,

its crimson eyes searching the dark. Th

e odor of rotting meat

rose form its coat, its breath was like smoke, and it rumbled like

thunder inside a volcano.

Carolyn fi red. At the sound of the explosion the wolf rose up

and moved its shaggy head from side to side, then fell back on all

fours and pawed the fl oor before it slowly slung its shoulders to-

ward the drawing room. She fi red again. And again. Th

e blast of

the gunshots shattered the air. Th

e werewolf crashed into a small

round table and crouched on the carpet. “What’s wrong?” she

whispered to Jackie. “I hit it. I know I did. Why does it keep

coming?” Again she pulled back the hammer, aimed, and fi red.

With an enraged snarl, the werewolf heaved its bulk over

the sofa, and the pistol went fl ying. Th

e animal landed beside

Carolyn, who screamed and rolled into a ball, her hands pro-

tecting her head, as the beast leaned over her, its huge paws on

either side of her body, its gums curled back, its teeth exposed,

Jackie cried out, “Quentin! Stop! Don’t hurt her!” but the

frenzied creature lowered its head and Carolyn moaned, tried to

rise up, then fainted dead away, her yellow hair spread across

the fl oor, her face serene beneath the slathering jaws.

Jackie clawed for the gun, her hand closed around the barrel,

and, with only a faint idea of how to fi re it, she pulled back the hammer and pointed it at the wolf. Th

e gun was heavy and she

was shaking so much she couldn’t aim, but she had a vague idea

of frightening the werewolf if she fi red over its head. Th

en she

remembered— silver bullets, she would need silver bullets— just

as she pulled the trigger.

Th

e blast shattered the globe of the lamp, and the room

went dark, but the beast rose up, whirled in the direction of the

shot, and was upon her. She screamed as it pawed her, rolling

her over like fresh kill and nosing her body with its snout. Her

ears fi lled with its growls until her head felt thick with fear, and

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she felt the jaws pinch her shoulder. Th

e werewolf pulled her

out from behind the couch and into the center of the room. She

could feel hot breath on her face and then a rasping tongue.

Sharp teeth pierced her arm and fear darkened her mind.

Her body felt empty, like an abandoned shell. She had

given up the power she had once had to protect herself. She

had driven it out, and now she was helpless. Her heart was beat-

ing so fast she couldn’t breathe and all she could do was stare up into the beast’s crimson eyes. Th

e creature paused, glared down

at her, and stood panting, its hot breath on her face one clawed

paw still on her shoulder.

For a moment the werewolf seemed disoriented, swinging

its massive head back and forth as though it had lost the scent,

growling but not attacking, its bulk heaving.

“Quentin!” David’s voice cracked in the air. Th

e werewolf

lifted its head and Jackie saw David standing in the doorway to

the library. His body was silhouetted by the moonlight behind

him and his face was fl ushed with determination. Jackie col-

lapsed inside and sobbed with relief, “David!” as she tried to

squirm away, but the beast still held her captive with its huge

paw. She smelled its stench, and she could feel her own breath

moving in and out of her body when she clenched her jaw, stiff -

ened, pushed at the air and somehow, held it back. Th

en David

was running to her and grabbing her under her arms, dragging

her away from the monster’s jaws as she struggled to her feet.

David pulled Carolyn from behind the couch as well. “Run,”

he cried to Jackie. “Into the library! Hide! In the secret corridor!”

Th

e three ducked inside the library door, and she looked

back and saw the animal sniff the air. Had she done that? Had

she stopped it? Th

en, a rumbling sound coming from its chest,

and it slung its weight around to come after them. Its eyes were

crimson and its tongue lolled from its jaws. Across the room, a

sunburst held the moon’s leering face within a halo of splintered

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shards, and on the other side of the table, in the wall of books,

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Jackie could just make out a dark crevice. She followed David

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blindly, running, her nails digging into his palm, Carolyn at her

heels.

“Hurry,” she whispered. “It’s coming.” And they slipped

through the opening in the wall.

David had a fl ashlight, but its beam was dim and it was

pitch dark in the corridor.

Slowly their eyes became accustomed to the darkness. David

fl oated the ray of light around the narrow corridor, and it

picked out the stone walls of the Collinwood foundation and

the huge fl oor joists overhead laden with rotting insulation. Th

e

fl oor was littered with debris, broken glass, and splintered wood.

A large rat slithered close to the wall, scampering away from

them.

“It’s here,” David said breathlessly. “It’s got to be here. I left it here in the Twenties, behind all the whiskey bottles.”

“What’s here?” said Jackie.

“Th

e painting.”

“Can the wolf get in here?” Carolyn said, shaking violently.

“I hope the tunnel is too narrow,” David answered. Th

ey

heard the animal snorting in the library, and books clattering

off the shelves.

“Th

ere’s no whiskey here now,” said Jackie. “Only broken

bottles. I can feel them under my feet.”

“Where are we?” Carolyn asked.

David pulled them along. “It’s a secret corridor, hidden be-

hind the bookcase, used for storing contraband, or even trea sure.”

“Something more than that,” said Jackie when her foot

bumped up against a hard mass and she almost tumbled over it.

David lowered the light and the three shrank back, gasping. It

was a corpse, long decayed, its skeletal head staring up at them

out of hollow eye sockets and its teeth grinning.

Th

en Carolyn screamed again. “It’s coming!” Th

e werewolf

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had found the opening in the bookcase and broken in; its body

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