“Turn that down,” Sonya said. Kim slapped Heath’s hand from her ass and turned the stereo down.
“Hello, Dad.”
“Hi, honey.”
“What’s up?”
“I figured you kids would still be up. I need you to do me a favor.”
“Sure.”
“I need you and your friends to stay put at Kim’s tonight.”
“Why? Has something happened? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. We found a body out here on Christie Road.”
“Oh my God.”
“Looks like an animal attack.”
“In this weather? What was someone doing out there in this storm?”
“Well, there’s a pretty big tree lying across the road. Unfortunately, it looks like this fella stopped, got out of his car and ran into something else.”
“Was it somebody from town?”
“No. Listen, I want you, all of you, to stay put, okay? I know Alex and Kim’s boyfriend are there. You just let Shauna know that I don’t want any of you leaving. Not until we find out what we’re dealing with here.”
“I’ll tell her. Please be careful.”
“I always am, honey. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Love you, Dad.”
“Love you too.”
“What the hell was that about?” Alex said.
“My dad said there’s a tree that got knocked down on Christie Road. Some out-of-towner stopped, got out of his car and was apparently attacked by an animal.”
“Holy shit,” Alex said.
“I bet it was the Full Moon Monster!” Heath said. He made claws with his hands and stalked toward Kim.
“Quit it with that dumb shit,” Kim said. She broke into laughter as Heath tackled her and nuzzled his face into her neck.
“What’s all this about?” Kim’s mom appeared in the doorway in her pink, fluffy housecoat.
“Oh hey, Shauna. My dad called. They found a body out on Christie Road. He says looks like an animal attack. He says he wants us all to stay here tonight.”
“Absolutely. Boys?” Shauna said. She looked at Heath and Alex, who were both peeking out the window. “Boys, you can stay downstairs. I don’t want any funny stuff.”
“Okay,” Alex said.
Heath nodded.
“I’m going to bed. Why don’t you kids settle down for the night? I have to work in the morning.”
“Okay, Mom,” Kim said.
Sonya watched Shauna scoot down the hall and back into her bedroom.
“Do you guys think it was for real?” Sonya said.
Kim sat next to her on the couch. “You know what these two are gonna say.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t believe in the Full Moon Monster. It’s just a bunch of bullshit from the Crypto Insider.” Sonya thought the weirdos behind the weekly bizarro paper were a bunch of bored creeps who probably huffed gas or sniffed too much glue.
Heath squeezed in next to Kim. Alex plopped down Indian-style on the floor facing the couch.
“You know what Old Mike told me,” Alex said.
“Oh yeah, listen to a drunk,” Kim said.
“Last summer he told me and Jason Schneider that Gilson Creek was home to a werewolf.”
“That’s the same thing as the Full Moon Monster, idiot,” Heath said. “Full. Moon.”
“No, dude. The Full Moon Monster is something made up to sell copies. I’m talking about a real werewolf.”
“I vote we watch a movie,” Sonya said.
She’d heard enough of this crap years ago. She remembered being in fourth grade when practically everyone in town was talking the same nonsense. She even got yelled at by Paul Glidden’s younger sister who was a grade ahead of her. She’d said that the sheriff should be fired. That he let her brother die. It wasn’t fair then, and she wasn’t about to start listening to that crap now.
“My uncle thinks it’s real too. He says that it killed all those—”
“Shut up, Alex.”
“What?”
Sonya fought back the tears. “I don’t want to talk about this stupid werewolf shit tonight, okay?”
Alex put his hands up. “All right, I’ll shut up. I’m sorry.”
She put the attacks of 1997 in her rearview years ago. Outside of Kim and Kim’s mom, no one understood all the shit she and her father went through that year.
The beast made its way out of town and passed through a little patch of trees that gave way to a small field. Just ahead, it spotted a hideous green-and-yellow trailer. Beside it sat a two-car garage painted the same ugly colors. Lights and loud music blared from the garage.
The beast broke for the small building.
Keith Turcott was trying to figure out how to change the oil in his old Escort. His father was useless when it came to teaching him anything. Keith always had to figure out these kinds of things for himself. He’d been doing things this way for sixteen and half years; all things considered, he thought he was doing pretty well. His drunken father could just sit in that piece-of-shit trailer and waste away, for all he cared. His mother was no better. She parked herself in the back room and watched episode after episode of Law & Order: SVU, smoked her menthol cigarettes, drank coffee and Kahlúa, and stuffed bags of Doritos into her face.
They were a couple of fucking losers. No way was he getting stuck here with them. He wasn’t about to grow up and grow old, just to give up. He was moving to Boston after graduation, if not sooner. He’d paid for this piece-of-shit Escort with his own money, fixed it himself, and once he got that diploma, he was good as gone. He was ready to get the fuck out of this house and this goddam town. Hell, he could—
Just outside the side door he’d left open a crack, something growled loud enough for him to hear it over the storm.
His first thought was of Bailey, his old husky who’d died two weeks ago. Obviously, not possible. A coyote maybe? Did coyotes growl like that?
He put down the red, oil-stained rag, picked up his flashlight and shone it toward the door. He didn’t see anything.
What the fuck? Maybe I’m just hearing things.
He reached for the rag he’d dropped. Just as he did, the door flung inward and smashed the stack of paint cans behind it to the concrete floor. Before he could retrain the flashlight, the car sunk down on top of him, the light fell from his hand, and the car pinned him to the ground. His feet kicked at nothing as he let out a muffled whimper. He could barely breathe, as the car was sitting right on top of him. Being as small as he was, he hadn’t bothered using a jack. Something was on top of the car.
“Hey…” he said in a strained whisper.
Another growl came in response. This time, it was deeper and somehow more menacing sounding.
He tried to reach for the flashlight again. Just as he got hold of it, he felt someone, or something, grab his right ankle.
What the f—
“Aarrrgh!” The grip tightened, then ripped his foot and lower half of his leg from his body.
All of Keith’s thoughts smashed into a wall of pain as his body was sent into a series of convulsions, and he was unable to prevent his face from hitting the rusty bottom of the Escort.
Theresa Turcott came running out of the back bedroom, making her way down the small, confined hallway of her beloved trailer. She’d heard the bone-chilling screams of her son coming from the garage. She rushed past her husband, Rusty, who was in his usual passed-out position in his recliner. She was scared, but hoped Keith had just dropped something heavy on his foot or banged himself with the hammer again. In the back of her intoxicated mind, she knew better. She knew his screams.
Theresa Turcott opened the front door. She nearly fell back inside as the garage doors exploded outward and she took into full view an enormous beast among the splintered wood and shattered glass. She clutched at her housecoat and struggled to catch her breath.
Keith.
The large animal raced away toward the woods. Barefoot and bewildered, Theresa scurried down the front steps, too frightened to call out to her boy.
She stopped at the destroyed garage entry and screamed.