Page 17 of Strange Lights

It doesn’t take long for the howling to draw close once the wolves smell the blood in the air. Eldi looks up from her bison and throws her head back to let out an eerie imitation of the werewolves’ howl. Goose bumps rise on my skin. I feel like the most vulnerable creature out here, excluding the dead bison on the ground, of course.

I’ve set myself up in a tree at the edge of the clearing where Eldi waits with the remains of the bison. I’m high enough to sight a clear shot and stay well out of the way of the wolves’ grasp. My pack of supplies and extra ammunition is snug in the crook of a branch nearby. Eldi was supposed to join me as soon as the bait was set and she finished her meal. Not that she couldn’t hold her own, but it’s less messy for all involved. I’m already on alert, watching the tree line, when Eldi shakes my focus.

Abruptly, she changes course, halfway across the clearing. She freezes and jerks her head to the side, like a dog scenting something intriguing on the breeze. A howl emanates from the woods across from me; the wolves are closing in.

“Eldi!” I whisper-shout.

I know she can hear me. Her hearing is fantastic; it’s the listening that’s the problem. Eldi doesn’t move; she’s staring off into the trees behind me. The urge to turn and look is strong, as it feels like all the eyes of the forest are suddenly trained on me. An eerie silence ripples across the dark woods as if all the creatures of the night sense a great danger approaching. The howling werewolves are the only ones brave enough to break the silence. And the wind, just the wind, I promise myself, wafts like someone breathing down the back of my neck. But I’m afraid to take my eyes off the forest behind Eldi as she stands frozen, unconcerned by the howls growing closer by the second.

“Eldi!” I call again, this time raising my voice to near-normal levels.

Look up. See.

See what? Shut up and stop distracting me, I think. I need to concentrate on whatever’s got Eldi distracted. I throw caution to the wind and loudly call out for her. “Eldi!”

She doesn’t look at me, but instead angles her face skyward, points at something. She can’t seriously be looking for Orion, can she? Now is not the time for stargazing. But movement and light catch my eye, and this time, I can’t help but look up too. An involuntary exclamation leaves my lips at the sight.

Shooting stars are streaking across the inky night sky. Brighter and more vivid than any meteor shower I’ve ever seen, they illuminate the stratosphere. The starlight, even the moon, seems dim in comparison. The earth glows in otherworldly shades of green. After what feels like minutes, but in actuality is only seconds, the night dims back to a velvety black.

Another howl pierces the silence, followed by a chorus of yelps and cries that sound nearly human, yet wrong enough to make that primal part of my brain bleat in panic. The werewolves. I’ve never heard this many at once. I scan the far edge of the clearing, trying to count the dark shapes moving in the shadow of the trees.

Eldi’s attention is back on the trees directly behind me. She’s crouching low, poised to jump. Branches are cracking and leaves are rustling too loudly for a predator stalking prey. I want to look, but I can’t afford to take my eyes off the woods ahead. I’m trying to calculate where to shoot first. There’re so many of them, all just out of range. And Eldi is still on the ground in plain sight, halfway between the dead bait bison and my tree.

Deep, quiet breaths, Reggie. I have to remind myself not to panic. What the hell is behind me? Eldi takes a step forward, halts again. She is frozen with indecision, and when I can’t help myself and look more closely at her, I am surprised to see her eyes wide with shock. Something’s gone wrong. I’m about to climb down and risk joining Eldi, but before I can act, several things happen at once.

With a hair-raising growl, the first werewolf, a big gray beast, lunges from the tree line, heading straight for the bison carcass lying in the grass. A second werewolf, this one with a ragged ear, emerges from the woods to my left and stalks toward Eldi. They’ve gotten far too close to us. They must have edged farther into the surrounding woods when I was distracted. There’re far more of them than I anticipated even with my catastrophizing. Upright figures are converging on us from all sides. Adrenaline shoots through my veins. This is bad. Bad, bad, bad.

A split second later, Calvin tumbles from the underbrush behind my tree, shouting for Eldi to run. I nearly fall on top of him in my shock. Eldi finally shakes out of her stupor and knocks Calvin out of the way with a grunt as she leaps straight into the arms of a third werewolf with black fur that follows Calvin from the brush. They’ve circled behind me, herding us, hemming us in.

I swear as I miss my first target, taking a clumsy, one-handed shot at the ragged-ear werewolf, the one closest to me, as I’m half falling, half climbing down from the tree. The gun goes off a second unintentional time, and I lose my grip on it entirely as I land roughly, already cringing at my mistake. Before I can fully regain my footing or my gun, rank, wet breath fills my nose. As I roll away, a set of jaws clamps shut around the space my face occupied a moment previous.

But then my hands close around metal, and I jump to my feet, finger already poised on the trigger, when my second shot, the one I didn’t mean to take, kicks in, and the werewolf drops, drowsy eyes losing focus and limbs shrinking, rearranging to their original orientation already. Pure luck, not skill, saved me this time.

A growl from the gray werewolf crouched over the bison reminds me I have other things to take care of. I shoot that one and start a count as I run for Calvin. Four, four more creatures are slinking from the woods.

I don’t concentrate on the black werewolf Eldi is fighting. They’re a tangled blur of fur, snapping canines, and flashing eyes, but she’ll hold him off. I aim for a different target and take a shot while I run toward where Calvin, half kneeling on the ground, eyes wide and stunned, is staring in awe toward Eldi and the werewolf. What the hell is Calvin even doing here?

“Are those werewolves? Like real werewolves?” Calvin hisses at me as I slide to a stop and crouch near him. He can’t seem to decide where to look: at Eldi, fangs and teeth flashing in the moonlight, moving with unnatural speed, at the werewolves emerging from every direction, or at me hefting the excessively large dart gun.

“Yes,” I snap, “so watch my back and tell me where I need to shoot.”

“Eldi, we have to save her⁠—”

“Does she look like she needs saving?” I ask Calvin as I fire at the approaching wolves, abandoning my careful count and simply shooting at anything that moves.

“I don’t know anymore,” Calvin says shakily.

“Concentrate. I’ll explain later. Watch the forest behind us.”

It’s the entire pack. I left this outbreak to fester for too long. I’m vaccinated, but they could still tear me apart, and then I’m dead for my troubles. Calvin, at least, is taking me seriously now and hisses warnings, pointing out where eyes flash in the dark, where movement in the underbrush gives away a lurking werewolf. With a lookout at my back and my feet on steady ground, I redeem myself slightly. Shot after shot finds its intended target.

Finally, there’s only one werewolf left standing, the large black-furred one fighting Eldi. It towers over her, but she’s much faster and uses her size to her advantage, weaving in between its legs, scrabbling up and over it, using its fur as handholds. The werewolf seems more irritated than threatened, snapping at her ineffectually, unable to catch her. Rather like watching a Chihuahua pester a Great Dane. I aim and miss my first shot as it lurches sideways at the last moment in an attempt to shake Eldi off. The werewolf’s eyes lock in a new direction, drawn by my movement, Eldi forgotten as it finds more appealing prey in Calvin and me. It tenses to pounce as I sight down the barrel, my finger on the trigger, when Eldi opens her mouth and bites down hard, digging her teeth into the werewolf’s flank. With a yelp of outrage and pain, the werewolf flings Eldi away and vaults at Calvin and me in a single, fluid motion. Calvin shoves me out of the way, and I fumble the gun again, much to my horror. Another shot goes wide as I fall to the side, the werewolf colliding with Calvin. My shoulder hits the ground first, a bolt of pain and numbness flashing up my arm.

Eldi throws herself back into the fray, and I can’t get a clear shot with the three of them. A slash of red blood obscures half of Calvin’s face. The werewolf’s teeth clamp around Calvin’s forearm. I take the shot anyway. There’s no choice left.

Once, twice. It’s still got Calvin’s arm. Three times and finally the werewolf drops like a stone, and as Eldi lets loose a feral growl of triumph, Calvin stumbles away, panting.

I know I saw the wolf’s teeth locked over Calvin’s flesh. I saw it happen, but I don’t want to believe it.