Monsters in the Midwest (Book 2): Northwoods Wolfman (25 page)

“No!”
Lois yelled as she ran toward Dallas. “Get the beer can. Get Herb! We need to
make it drink Herb!”

Dallas
looked at her incredulously, but the look on her face convinced him that while
she might be bat-shit crazy, she was one-hundred percent sincere. Jumping
inside the pattern, he scooped up Herb in one hand and grabbed zombie-Randall’s
neck with the other. Muddy, clawed fingers raked at his face, but Dallas
ignored them and bent the head back. With a loud victory cry, he shoved the
beer can up to the zombie’s mouth.

Randall
tried to twist his head, moans and wails becoming more frantic, but Dallas held
the can holding Herb firmly to Randall’s lips. A milky white smoke poured out
and down the zombie’s throat. Suddenly, Randall went lax in Dallas’s grip. When
a cold, muddy hand reached up and grabbed Dallas’s own, he yelped but refused
to let go.

A
suckling sound reached his ears. Randall was now actively drinking the smoke,
guzzling it down with a series of hungry gulps. Dallas felt the cold flesh
gripping his own shift its fingers around the beer can. As Dallas released
Randall’s throat and stepped back, the zombie stood on its own, can of
Milwaukee’s Best tipped up as yard after yard of milky smoke poured down into
its mouth.

What
happened next was the strangest thing Dallas thought a pair of looking balls
could ever witness. Randall’s skin started to ripple, his arms started to
vibrate, his legs started to twitch. His face stretched and contracted. The
scraggly hairs of a goatee shriveled and wilted. In their place, a reddish five
o’clock shadow spread like peach fuzz over rounding cheeks and a softening
chin. Freckles popped out across a once sharp nose turned not-quite-bulbous,
and the dark widow’s peak pulled back to a less severe hairline defined by
brown hair turning a familiar, rusty red.

Herb
Knudsen raised the empty can high above his head and smiled, his long fangs
glinting in the light of the moon.

“Best
beer in the whole world, and that’s a fact.”

Chapter 36

Dallas,
Stanley, Lois, and Herb sat in Dallas’s living room, each one lost deep in
their own thoughts. No one spoke, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable quiet.

After
Herb’s return, Lois had wrapped the reincarnated vampire up in a hug so fierce
Herb complained about her trying to squeeze him to death right after he’d come
back. When she finally released him, Stanley took her place. Blubbering sobs
wracked his wiry frame as he clung to his friend. Herb patted him on the back
affectionately, muttered nothings, and told Stanley everything was fine, just
fine, and thanked him for being such a great friend.

Then
it was Dallas’s turn. He knew he was supposed to say something, do something,
but couldn’t for the life of him figure out what. So finally, he just stuck out
a hand.

“Welcome
back, buddy. I’m sorry about everything, but I’m damn glad you’re back.”

“Me,
too,” Herb replied, grasping the offered hand. “Me, too.”

Now
the four sat in a loose circle, Dallas and Stanley drinking a couple of beers
while Herb and Lois drank in each other’s closeness.

When
Dallas spoke, he asked the question everyone was thinking while trying equally
hard to not think.

“So,”
he started. “Now what?”

Herb
looked up from Lois’s eyes. “I suppose maybe I could go back to work at Ronnie’s.
You know, explain everything and see if I could pick up the night shift again.”

“The
K-king Pins are back together!” Stanley yammered. “We’ll get back in the league
and w-win the tourney again.” His smile magnified when Herb offered a hearty
thumb’s up.

“We
should go find Kevin, too,” Herb suggested. “I’ll bet he’d love bowling. Might
be hard to find big enough shoes though.”

Dallas
looked at Lois.

I reckon it’s my job to burst the
bubble?

When
Lois dropped her eyes and turned her head away, he knew the answer.

“Sorry,
compadres. I’m not sure a happy ending is part of this particular massage.
Herb, the sheriff still thinks you’re guilty of all those murders. Like it or
not, they’re right, too. The first guy, definitely, and even if you could prove
that Helen did the other girl and those frat boys in before frying herself,
you’d be an accomplice at least.”

Pounding
a fist on his knee, Dallas continued the litany of their misfortunes.

“Eventually,
someone’s going to notice Fancy Dan’s gone missing. I think we covered our
tracks, but even the smallest clue puts me squarely in the ‘Trappersville’s
Most Wanted’ category. Local law enforcement aside, there are also a couple of
folks in particular that are going to come looking for Randall. What do we do
when the Society shows up?”

The
quiet returned, but this time it wasn’t nearly as comfortable as before. When
no one spoke, Dallas raised his voice again.

“I
think Kevin had the right idea. We should run. All of us. We can head up to
Michigan, or even Canada. Fake our deaths here, maybe, and get a fresh start
with new identities.”

Stanley
brightened. “Oh, yeah. Like in
Murder,
She Wrote,
season eleven, episode fifteen.
T-twice Dead.
You know, when everyone thinks Max is dead?”

“Uh,
sure. Yeah, I suppose just like that,” Dallas conceded, attempting to prevent
Stanley from describing not just the entire episode, but also the ones before
and after to provide context.

“So?
What do you think? Pack tonight, tie up loose ends tomorrow, and hit the road?”
he asked.

Lois
shook her head. “Even if we did want to run, the sun rises in a couple of
hours, and tomorrow night’s the full moon, remember? Herb can’t travel during
the day, and how far could you get tomorrow night before you turn?”

Her
good point did a pretty solid job of ruining his already not-so-great mood.

“Well?
What’s plan B?” he asked, exasperated. “Ride out the weekend, hope the Society
doesn’t pop in, and then blow this Popsicle stand in a few days? Risky, but
maybe the better way to go.”

“Guys,
we can just stay here. In Trappersville. No need to run, no need to hide.
You’re forgetting an important detail. I,” Herb said, dramatically, “can whammy
people.”

Lois
lit up like a Christmas tree, and Stanley started to clap.

“Th-that’s
right!” he crowed. “You can whammy ‘em. Ronnie and the sheriff and the guys at
b-bowling and Rhonda and Jasper and P-pam and Stein and,”

“Okay,
Stanley! We get it, already.” Dallas cut in. “Well, Herb? You think you got the
juice to whammy half the town?”

Herb
sat back with a thoughtful look on his eyes. “I dunno. I suppose, if I could
get them in one or two at a time.”

“I
can help with a spell,” Lois added. “Like, a temporary amnesia spell. We get a
bunch of folks together, I cast the spell, and then Herb can work the crowd and
whammy them.” Her eyes pleaded with Dallas. “It could work. We could stay, and
everything could be okay again.”

Suddenly,
Dallas found himself at the center of three sets of imploring eyes, all seeking
his approval.

Well? What would the harm be? We’re
just erasing a couple hundred folks’ memories and replacing them. That ain’t so
bad, is it? Hell, I bet the government does it every day.

“Deal.
Lois does the witchy stuff, Herb does the whammy stuff, and we stay.
Trappersville is our home, after all. Even if we don’t all quite fit the mold,
we still belong here as much as the next monster. That doesn’t solve the
Society problem though. I mean, I guess there’s a chance we could catch Colton
and Aletia off-guard and whammy them, too, but something tells me they won’t be
that easy to take down.”

And do I really want to mind-bend
Aletia?
he
wondered. The townsfolk were one thing, but messing with Tia’s memories gave
Dallas a bad feeling.

“If
they show up,” Lois started.

“When,”
Dallas interjected.

“Fine.
When they show up, I guess we’ll just have to deal,” she finished. “But tonight
I don’t want to think about it. Let’s just let tonight be tonight. Okay?”

Pushing
down his rising anxiety, Dallas raised his beer. “I’ll drink to that,” he
toasted.

After
Herb, Lois, and Stanley had all left, Dallas lay awake in bed for a long time.
Tonight was tonight, but tomorrow he’d be a werewolf again. He just hoped that
Colton and Aletia were taking the scenic route.

Chapter 37

“Buenos
dias, stranger.”

Dallas
stood in his boxer shorts, mouth agape.

“Aletia?
What are you doing here?”

She
slid up to him, placed one palm on his bare chest, and the other someplace much
more intimate.

“Oh,”
she pouted. “And here I thought you’d be happy to see me.” Kissing his still
open mouth, she looked up into his wide eyes.

“You
are happy to see me, aren’t you?”

Dallas
tried to recover, failed miserably, and tried again.

“What?
Oh, yeah. Yes! I just, I… well, I thought you guys were ‘squatch hunting up in
Canada or something. I just wasn’t expecting you. Here. Today.”

On the morning of the night that I
turn into a goddamn werewolf,
he
thought.

Aletia
slid past him into his living room and settled into the couch.

“We
were. Trail went cold, so we split up. Colton and I continued north, and
Randall circled back in case we missed something. We thought he’d swing through
town and check in with you. Guess not, huh?”

“Who?”
Dallas fumbled. “Oh, right. Randall. Ah, no. Nope. Haven’t seen him since you
guys left town. A, you know, month ago.”

Aletia
rolled her eyes. “El es un idiota. We told him to come to you for help. Don’t
feel bad though. He knows you’re a good hunter. He just takes a while to warm
up to newbies. Especially when the newbie happens to be tall, dark, handsome,
and pretty much naked,” she added with a wink.

Still
standing in the open doorway and wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a
look bordering on panic, Dallas tried to think of what to say. When Aletia
stood up, slipped off her jacket, pulled her tee-shirt over her head, and slid
her skin-tight jeans down to the floor, he decided that saying things wasn’t
really necessary at that exact moment in time. Closing the door, he let Aletia
tackle him.

Later,
Dallas lay on his back with Aletia’s head pillowed on his outstretched arm.
While her hand traced lazy circles on his stomach and her foot rubbed playfully
against his, he watched the slow creep of a ray of sunlight across the far
wall. Like a countdown timer to the end of the world, the sun tracked west
across the sky with the full moon nipping at its heels.

“Mmmmm,”
she moaned. “That’s more like it. Just promise me you don’t greet all the girls
this way.”

“Just
you, babe. Just you,” he sighed.

Her
fingers stopped their listless doodles and she propped herself up on an elbow.

“Que
pasa? You seem a little far away. Are you okay?” she asked, eyes searching his
face.

Turning
his head, he looked into her dark eyes. Breathing in the scent of her, basking
in the warmth of her, he tried again to think of what he could do, what he
could say, how he could explain any of the things that had happened the past
month and have her not instantly shoot him with a silver bullet.

“You
never told me why you joined the Society,” he finally said. “What made you want
to do it?”

Aletia
lay back on the mattress, situating the sheet across her waist and folding her
hands carefully on her stomach. For a few moments she just lay there, eyes
staring past the ceiling far into her past.

“You
have a right to know, and I don’t want you thinking I’m hiding things from you.
It’s just not that easy to talk about, you know? And I’m not entirely sure
where to start.”

“Maybe
at the beginning?” Dallas suggested softly.

“Maybe
after breakfast,” she replied with a smile. “I’m starving.”

When
Dallas stepped into Ronnie’s, he wasn’t expecting to see Lois. As the waitress
and Aletia locked eyes, the air practically crackled with mutual hostility.

Dallas
grit his teeth in frustration. He’d been certain Lois would be with Herb, not
working.

Except it’s the daytime, dummy.
Herb’s sleeping.

Hastening
to avoid a replay of their first encounter, he grabbed Aletia’s arm and
whispered urgently, “Just give me a second to explain.”

The
momentary warmth he’d felt walking in from the cool October air froze under the
hunter’s icy stare, but she held her tongue. Walking her over to a booth as far
from the other patrons as possible, he sat and studiously picked up a menu.

“One,”
Aletia said, voice edged with frost.

“Really?
I mean, it’s good, but not a lot of food. Just eggs and hash browns. I usually
go for the number three myself, unless I’m in the mood for eggs benedict,”
Dallas commented, all innocence.

“No,
it’s been one second. Now explain.”

Mentally
slapping himself in the forehead, Dallas tried on his most disarming smile, the
one he usually reserved for girls that asked when he’d last been tested for
STD’s.

“I
told you. Lois and I talked, and that witchy stuff was just a phase. I set her
straight, and we’re all good. No need to make a scene.”

Aletia
looked less than convinced but didn’t challenge him. Heaving a huge mental
sigh, Dallas tried to figure out what to do. Colton hadn’t popped up yet, but
he had to be in town. To make matters worse, there was a big, full moon on deck
to ruin his charade. But did it really have to be a charade? There was no
denying that he and Aletia had something. Maybe if he just talked to her, told
her the truth, she’d understand. It had worked for Herb and Lois in a weird
kind of way, hadn’t it?

It’s not like I’m always a
werewolf. Just a few days a month. No reason for that to spoil a good thing,
right?

Before
he could put any more thought into the matter, Lois arrived at their table.

“Hi
Dallas, and um. Dallas’s friend. I don’t think we were properly introduced the
first time we met. I’m Lois,” she offered, holding her order pad and wearing a
smile that almost masked her panic, but not quite.

“Aletia,”
the hunter said with a thinly painted smile of her own. “Dallas said you two
talked over a few things after we... met. I’m glad to hear you’ve moved past
your experimental phase.”

Lois
laughed a high, brittle laugh. “Oh. Right. Yeah. Gosh, I just feel so silly
about the whole thing. Dallas, though. He’s such a great guy. Really helped.”

Gulping,
Lois tapped her pen nervously on her notepad. “So, um. You two ready to order?”

While
Aletia dictated her order in a tone crispier than burnt hash browns, Dallas
tried to ignore the gallon of water under each armpit. He also tried to ignore
his hunger. Over the past few weeks, he’d been consuming a staggering amount of
food. Now, sitting in Ronnie’s with the smell of meat all around him, the
unnaturalness of his hunger became glaringly apparent. He didn’t want the number
three or the eggs benedict. He wanted everything on the menu.

“Dallas?”
Lois asked.

“Oh,
yeah. Me. Um.”

Better keep it light. Restraint,
old boy. Show some restraint, and you’ll get through this just fine.

“I’ll
get the ham and eggs, steak and eggs, both with hash browns and white toast
nice and soggy, a side of sausage links, and a short stack of pancakes. And,
um. Bacon. Two sides,” he rattled off.

Aletia
and Lois just stared. Realizing his definition of ‘light’ might be a bit
heavier than it should be, he buried his face in the menu to hide his blush.

“Hungry,”
he managed by way of explanation.

After
Lois had walked off to place their orders, Aletia raised an eyebrow.

“Guess
you worked up an appetite this morning,” she commented coyly. “You okay with me
taking credit for that?”

Relief
flooding through him, he grabbed the offered life preserver and winked.

“Absolutely.
You certainly know how to help a guy burn calories.”

While
waiting for their food, Aletia talked a bit about their trek north following the
Sasquatch. Dallas peppered in questions about whether or not Canadians always
ate their French fries with gravy and if she was going to start ending all of
her questions with ‘eh.’ The tension that had thickened the air when they first
arrived slowly eased, and Dallas let himself believe, if just for a moment,
that there was nothing to worry about. It was a short-lived fantasy though.
When their food arrived, Aletia grabbed Lois’s wrist as she set down a plate.

“Do
I need to worry about what’s in this?” she snapped, glaring up at Lois.

Lois
yanked her hand back and huffed. Using Dallas’s fork, she speared a hunk of
eggs off of Aletia’s plate, stuffed it in her mouth, and chewed pointedly.

“One-hundred
percent
spell
-free eggs. Enjoy your breakfast,”
she shot back before stomping off to the kitchen.

“Was
that really necessary?” Dallas asked. “I said there was nothing to worry
about.”

Aletia
grimaced uncomfortably. “Lo siento, Dallas. What can I say? I have trust
issues.” She took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “At least the food is good
here.”