The Howling

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The pack of ravening wolves around Karyn's house was like a preview of hell. Chris Halloran aimed the Camaro at two of the animals nearest the roadway and drove into them. He felt the sick-soft thump as the wolves went down under the wheels. They should have been crushed. Looking back, Chris saw the two animals lie still for a moment, then get back to their feet in jerky movements. Their eyes blazed with wild hatred.

Now he knew for certain what they were. His rational twentieth-century mind had rejected the word, but it had been on the edge of his consciousness from the time he had played the tape and heard Karyn ask for silver bullets. Werewolves.

He pulled up behind an old Buick that blocked his path to the house. Someone appeared for a moment at one of the windows. It might have been Karyn. Chris calculated his chances of reaching the house on foot. Between him and the door were more wolves than he could count. Right now they seemed indecisive, their attention divided between him and the house.

Chris took the gun from his pocket and stepped out of the car. The wolves watched him intently, but made no move. He started walking carefully toward the house. At the same time from inside came a loud growl. As though it were some kind of signal, the wolves came for him.

Chris took quick aim with the pistol and fired at the nearest animal. The sound was a disappointing little pop, and Chris longed for a heavier-caliber weapon. A puff of dust kicked up a foot in front of the wolf. He had missed. At pointblank range. One precious bullet gone.

For his second shot Chris steadied his right hand with his left, the way pistol shooting was taught. He aimed carefully at a point between the eyes and fired. A round black hole appeared magically in the short fur of the wolf's head. The animal's legs stiffened for a moment, then buckled, and it fell, the eyes open and empty.

The other wolves drew back for a moment, then came together in a mass between Chris and the door. Holding the gun straight out in front of him, he advanced cautiously. Off to the side, a lone pale wolf bounded from the forest and charged the house. Oblivious to both the man and the other animals, it crossed the clearing in powerful leaps and sprang for the window, forepaws outstretched to take the impact. The screen collapsed inward, the window glass shattered, and the pale wolf disappeared into the house. A woman screamed.

When she realized what had happened to Dr. Volkmann, Karyn edged away from the window, keeping her eyes on the lean gray wolf that now stood in her living room. She wanted to believe that Chris would reach her in time, but she had seen how many wolves blocked his approach to the house.

The muscles of the gray wolf bunched as he crouched to spring. With nowhere to go, Karyn backed into a corner, holding her arms crossed in front of her in a feeble attempt to ward off the attack.

But before the blow came there was a splintering crash and fragments of glass peppered the room. A pale-yellow wolf, broad through the chest, landed on all four feet between Karyn and the attacker. She screamed.

To Karyn's astonishment, the pale wolf turned not toward her, but the other way to face the lean Volkmann wolf. The two squared off, growling deep in their throats. The pale wolf made the first move, springing at the other. The gray wolf stepped nimbly aside, and the newcomer overshot and slammed into the sofa before he could turn. The gray wolf moved in fast, his jaws open wide, teeth bared for battle. They collided with a thump and rolled across the floor, the fury of their combat shaking the house. From outside Karyn heard the popping of a small-caliber gun.

She watched the fight with a strange detached fascination. The lean gray wolf was the quicker of the two, but the pale newcomer was the stronger. The gray wolf would back away, inviting an attack, then leap aside like a matador and slash at the other as he went by. Each time the sharp teeth ripped through the yellow fur, leaving a streak of blood, and each charge by the pale wolf was a fraction slower than the last.

The end came with startling suddenness. The gray wolf moved half a second too late, and the other was upon him. Using his superior weight, the pale wolf forced his foe slowly to the floor. Then he struck, powerful teeth clamping on the other's throat. A terrible, bubbling cry came from the downed animal just before his windpipe collapsed.

Still pressed back into the corner, Karyn looked directly into the eyes of the pale wolf as it raised its head, muzzle dripping with the other's blood. A shock of recognition went through her.

"Roy," she said softly.

At that moment the weakened door splintered and Chris Halloran burst into the room. He looked down at the mutilated wolf, then at the other. He pointed the Stoeger pistol at the survivior.

"No!" Karyn cried.

With his finger tight on the trigger, Chris looked over at Karyn.

"Don't kill him," she said. "Not this one."

Chris let his gun arm fall, and the pale wolf leaped out through the smashed window.

Karyn staggered for a moment, and Chris moved swiftly to catch her.

"Hang on," he said. "We've still got to get out of here."

She nodded and drew a shuddering breath. "How many bullets do you have left?"

"Only four, if I counted right."

Through the open doorway they could see the dark shapes moving cautiously nearer.

"We can't stay here," Karyn said. "We've got to get to the car."

Chris nodded toward the shotgun that lay across the room. "Can we use that?"

"It's no good. Only silver can stop them."

Outside the wolves grew bolder.

"Is there nothing else?" Chris asked.

"One thing," she remembered. "Fire."

Chris looked over at the dwindling flame in the fireplace. "See if you can find something to use for a torch. I'll watch the doorway."

Karyn ran to the bathroom and took Roy's long-handled shower brush from its hook over the tub. She wrapped two heavy towels around the bristle end, fastening them with adhesive tape. From the cupboard under the sink she took a can of lighter fluid and poured it over the towels. From out in the living room came the sound of shots. She ran back and saw two more wolves down on the floor.

Chris took the makeshift torch from her hand and touched the wrapped end to the fire. Flames enveloped the towels immediately.

"Stay close to me," he said, and led her out the front door.

Wolves were everywhere. They backed away when Chris thrust the torch at them, but just far enough to avoid the flame. He fired at one and killed it.

As they inched across the clearing the wolves circled them like a city gang of juveniles waiting for an opening to attack.

Chris handed her the gun. "You take this. I'll try to scatter them with the torch while you make for the car. There's one bullet left. If you have to use it, make it count."

"What about you?"

"Once you're inside the car, be ready to whip the door open for me. When I come, I'll come fast."

Karyn squeezed his arm, then gripped the pistol firmly and started running. She forced herself to look nowhere but straight ahead at the car. With every step she expected to be pulled down from behind by powerful jaws. Behind her she could hear the frenzied growling of the wolves as Chris menaced them with the torch.

The blood pounded in Karyn's temples as she covered the last yards to the car. Just two steps away from safety a lithe black wolf sprang between her and the car. For a frozen moment the woman and the beast were face to face. The green eyes of the wolf blazed with hatred. The timeless hatred of the female.

"I should have known it was you, Marcia," said Karyn.

The she-wolf gathered herself and leaped at her. At the same instant Karyn fired. One of the green eyes burst like a ripened grape as the bullet pierced it and sank into the brain. The black wolf screamed once and tumbled lifeless to the ground at Karyn's feet.

She stepped over the animal's body and snatched open the door on the passenger's side of the Camaro. Without looking back she dived inside and slammed the door behind her.

As Karyn pulled herself upright she saw Chris running toward the car with the torch held out in front of him. He slammed into the fender, did a body roll across the hood, and came down on the driver's side still gripping the torch. Karyn banged the door open for him, and he levered himself inside, hurling the torch back at the raging wolves.

The burning torch traced a fiery spiral arc through the night and landed in the dry grass. The wind caught the flame, and in seconds it had spread across the clearing to the oily chapparal at the edge of the forest.

Chris got the car going, swung around, and sped back toward the road leading out. Behind them they could hear the growing roar of flames and screams that were neither animal nor human.

They did not slow down until they reached the crest of the mountain. There Chris pulled to a stop and they looked back. Below them in the valley the red-orange glow of the fire spread into the village of Drago, whipped on by the desert wind.

"Some of them will get away," Karen said.

Chris did not answer.

She looked down at the fire as it ate through the wooden buildings and thought of the long-dead village of Dradja. "Some of them always get away."

A sudden deep chill made her shudder. Chris put an arm around her shoulder and drew her close to him. In a little while the chill subsided.

"Can we go away from here?" she said. "Far away?"

"Yes," he said. He pulled the car back onto the road and drove on over the mountain.

Just as they started down the other side Karyn heard it. She clapped her hands over her ears, but could not shut it out. The howling.