In The Distance, A Blood Moon

In Colorado two years, six months, and five days before Kennedy stepped onto a bus with a picture of her birth parents in her pocket...

“Holy shit, I hit it!” Sam pushed through the bushes. The injured wolf lay on the forest floor with an arrow speared through his side. He had expected the animal to be the size of a German shepherd, but the wolf was much bigger. With the creature’s every breath, the feathered shaft swayed in and out of a ray of sunshine, flashing a shard of light. Inside his chest, Sam’s heart beat like a racing train. With his first arrow, he’d managed a kill shot! He called back to his friends through the underbrush. “He’s a big one. Still breathing. You gotta see this!”

The four of them, Balor, Orp, Cary and Sam, had been taking archery all term to fill out their university schedules and stop their parents from complaining that they would be in school forever. Only Cary would be in school for a decade. He was headed to med school next year on his path to becoming a surgeon. The three of them tumbled into the clearing, looking worse for wear. Sam’s time in track and field, working on his sprints, had given him speed. Warm and springy, he’d out-paced the others effortlessly.

“Lucky shot,” their leader, Balor said, square jaw tightening. The guy never liked to be second. In a lifetime of excelling and archiving everything first, the experience was uncomfortable. Usually, life handed Balor first place without him having to exert any effort. It helped when your father was a powerful senator.

Preening in his victory, Sam said, “You wish, that was pure skill, man.” He swayed the tip of his bow toward Cary. “How long do you think it will take for the wolf to die?” Sam slotted another arrow.

Cary’s brow furrowed. “We shouldn’t let it suffer. You must have missed the heart.”

“Look at its eyes.” Orp was the last to claim his place in their half circle around the dying animal. He knew everything about the digital world, but rarely seemed comfortable in the real one. Sam had bribed him to get him to join them on the hunting trip. Now he was going to have to find some dumb chick in the art department who would sell him mushrooms before the next weekend. Orp crept closer to the wounded animal.

The creature’s mahogany eyes gleamed with intelligence. When their leader stepped forward to stand next to Orp, the wolf tried to catch purchase with its legs, but the creature could only move its upper body and found itself unable to move further into the brush. It didn’t appear to have control of its back legs any longer. Lips drawing back, it growled at them, eyes rolling with pain.

Slinging his bow from his shoulder, Cary suggested, “We should all shoot him. That way, they can blame no single one of us if a park ranger finds us.”

Balor snorted. “They don’t give a shit about the wolves out here. The wolves in this area have been killing livestock across the ridge. The forest rangers would probably invite us to dinner.”

Orp brought his arrow up, ready, close enough that there was no way he could miss. He was sweating. “I’ve never killed anything.”

“Orpy boy, you aren’t killing it now. That wolf is already dead, his body just doesn’t know it yet.” Balor settled his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’ve done this a hundred times in class. Take a few deep, slow breaths.”

The second arrow, set free by Orp, drove through the animal’s hip, pinning it to the forest floor. The creature howled in misery and desperation. Balor crouched down, keeping his distance, but watching. “There is something weird about this animal.”

Sam shrugged, “He’s big. His size makes him harder to kill.”

Balor tilted his head. “Look at its eyes. It’s like he’s taking measure of us.”

Cary eased back a step. “Do you think it’s sick? We shouldn’t touch it if it is sick.”

Ignoring his friend, Balor reached out and touched the tip of the animal’s tail, and the creature fruitlessly tried to draw it away. The way the wolf could barely snap at the air made Sam feel sorry for it. How mortifying to not even be able to get in one last bite while dying.

“You’re up, Cary. Since you don’t want him to suffer.” A cool smile curling his lips, Balor looked over his shoulder toward the med student, challenging him.

Cary asked, “How do you know it’s a him?”

“Look between his back legs, dumbass.” Balor put his hands on his hips and lifted his chin. “Are you sure med school is the direction you want to go?”

Cary raised his arrow, careful in how he lined up his site, always meticulous. Orp and Balor stepped to the side out of harm’s way. Cary dampened his lips and said, “Do you know my father had this bow special ordered for me? They aren’t being produced anymore.” He breathed out a long calculated exhale, and smoothly released. The arrow struck viciously through the animal’s neck. The tip sank deep into the tree behind the cowering wolf’s body.

Sam watched their leader, the last to shoot. Balor. Later, he would claim the kill, but Sam didn’t care. He knew who had released the death shot. The first arrow was not survivable. Balor took his time, calculating. The wolf looked up at him like the coed last Thursday night had, as she’d felt the roofy kick in. Fear and desperation.

The tissue at its neck and shoulder rolled back from the wound. Sam had killed plenty of animals with his brothers and cousins on their hunting trips. He’d never seen this. “Wait. Something is happening.” Once it had started, the transformation undulated through the creature’s now twisting body. The red of muscle, the white of sinew, the jut of a bone. Sam stepped backward, spooked.

“What the hell.” Cary almost fell, getting space between him and the disintegrating animal, but not the leader. He stayed put, wide eyed and focused. The shaft of the arrow through the neck bent and then snapped. The body of the creature turned itself inside out, and in the wreckage was almost a man. Incomplete, but recognizable. The bottom half had all but shredded itself trying to reform.

Sam pressed his fingertips to the St. Michael’s cross at his neck. “What the fuck is that?”

Balor looked over at him face shining, “Our future, boys.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Cary’s face had paled.

“This.” Balor gestured toward the dying monster on the forest floor. “Is what my father would call an opportunity.”

The pitiful creature moaned. Not fully human, not fully wolf. Desperate and dying. Orp whispered, “A Werewolf.”

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Welcome to book 2! Thank you for your support and continued reading. I look forward to reading your thoughts and comments. I will post every weekday until the book is complete. :) Willow