Chapter Seventeen

They say life is cyclical; events just have a way of repeating themselves.

Once again the sounds of people trudging through thick brush in search of the lost echoed through the northern gateway. Times were different. Retrieving the consumed of the woods was a matter of time and the perception of danger didn’t exist.

In a column of individuals a mile wide, the searchers from New Haven fanned out penetrating the hive of sticks sifting and poking anything out of the ordinary. Not a set of eyes were unaware of who they were looking for, but no one knew where to look; the hot spring had never been seen before.

At nine thirty that morning several hundred searchers were out weaving a search pattern designed to locate even the smallest of objects. Every minute the explorers would belt out Mary’s name, but it would be quickly swallowed by the forested expanse. High above in the trees, the birds watched the intruders as they pushed deeper into their territory; but they all remained silent.

At the double-humped rock a command center was set up that Clint Littleford coordinated. It was makeshift and lacked any real equipment aside from a topographical map of the area and a bunch of handheld radios that only a handful of teams thought to grab. His current eye patch was black leather with a silver skull and cross bones allowing him to reinvent the pirate look.

It was good ole fashioned organized chaos. The left hand didn’t even know the right hand existed but the feet seemed oblivious to the overall organizational structure and kept moving forward.

Citizens from around New Haven locked up their shops and flocked to the forest to aide in the search anyway they could. Jim Baker from Baker the Baker loaded down his truck with every pastry and donut he had made that morning, not forgetting to bring along his now infamous French Tourtière, a traditional French meat pie.

Ray Silverdale arrived with his canoe that he intended to launch into the Thompson River, searching the shores and rocky ledges as he went.

Even Suzie Templeton from the Heritage Committee showed up, armed with old maps and books about myths and legends of the north woods beyond New Haven.

All citizens who were able to help did.

“Darwin! We’ve got over three hundred boots on the ground in the northeast sector and we’re closing in on the hot spring-at least we think we are. You said it was south of the Thompson River by about an hour?” Clint asked without stopping for pleasantries.

“Good to see you too, Clint,” Tim replied.

Clint paused for a moment now realizing that Darwin was hurt and in shock. He would must use more discretion.” We will find her Darwin, I promise you that.”

“Thank you Clint. I know you will try,” Darwin quietly replied, still running the event through his mind.

“We might make better progress if you show us on the map where you think the hot spring is.” Clint motioned over to a table with new topographical maps as well as a few old ones that Suzie was just beginning to lay out.

“I’ve never been there when I wasn’t the wolf,” Darwin admitted.

“I thought you said you ran to the hot springs?” Tim asked.

“After I had already changed back. I was human yes, but the wolf took me there, or near there. I’ve never walked to the hot springs from here as a human, so I’m not really sure where it is,” Darwin confessed.

“Okay, think! There must be something you remember…a tree, a smell or a rock even?” Tim attempted to lead.

Darwin sat down in a lawn chair that was set up for him. An event tent sprung up around the group while Darwin thought about where they needed to go. The tent maneuvered into place without anyone taking any real notice.

“Clint! Clint! This is Terri! Over!” Crackled across the radio attached to Clint’s hip.

Quickly grabbing the radio from his side he replied while continuing to make eye contact with Darwin. “Yeah Terri, go for Clint.”

“We found something, north side of the Thompson. It looks like…well gosh hell I don’t know what it is. You better get your boys over here right away,” Terri replied.

“Terri we’re looking for a lost woman, is it a lost woman?” Clint shot back, rolling his eyes.

The radio wave opened and a transmission began but it was now deteriorating to static and interference. “Be…ge…the…now.” Was all anyone could make out in the thirty second transmission.

“Terri, Terri, this is Clint—say again.”

There was nothing. Her transmission was finished and she was no longer able to respond.

“Terri, Terri—come back.”

“We must get out there right away,” Tim ordered. “How many bodies can we spare?”

“She’s probably out of range is all,” Clint assured.

“She wanted us to come. We must go and see what it is she found. Terri doesn’t fuck around. If she’s asked for assistance, we should go,” Tim insisted.

“Are we looking for Mary or are we looking for Terri?” Clint argued.

“Both,” Darwin calmly ordered. “Until we have both we’re looking for both.”

* * * *

Tim and Darwin set out in the direction of the Jason and Tina slaying. Darwin was confident he could find that. It was a real place that others had been to and it had only been a day since he was last there. He hadn’t been looking for the spot when he and Mary had come upon it, but he recognized it straight out. In daylight, the killing zone was a small bowl with a canopy of trees sheltering it. Darwin could imagine Tina sucking on Jason’s cock as his wolf plowed over the embankment; that first gulp of supple flesh and blood.

“The springs should be that way,” Darwin pointed beyond the bowl and off the trail.

“Why would we want to go off trail?” Tim asked, confused.

“When I changed in December, I changed at the hot spring. I ran through the woods to this spot. I could smell the sex. We must be no more than a mile to the springs.” Darwin didn’t wait for his friend to argue. He made his way down the slight hill to the bottom of the bowl and began climbing up the opposite side.

Tim followed politely, looking over his shoulder at the trail they were choosing to leave behind. They were monsters and nothing should scare them, yet Tim began to feel apprehensive as they moved into the thick of the woods.

“Tim, there’s something special about these woods. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it’s here. Do you feel it?” Darwin raised the subject hoping that he wasn’t alone in his own suspicions.

“Our skin bursts through our clothes at the sight of the moon, we can change into a monster at will and throw thousands of pounds without a struggle, and you wonder about an eerie forest?” Tim chuckled.

“There’s something here. Every time I’m in these woods it seems more intense…almost like it feeds off of me. It’s really strong today.”

“Hey Dar, wouldn’t it be easier to stick to the path? We could find where you changed and then follow your tracks.” Tim finished this just as Darwin released a branch prematurely whacking him in the face. “Ah, fuck dude!”

Darwin turned around and found Tim rubbing his nose which was in the same condition as it had been, though a bit redder. “Pussy!”

“If I were human that might have broken my nose!” Tim argued.

“But you’re not and it didn’t so let’s go!” Darwin fussed. “To answer your question—no, I think cutting through the bush is the right move. If we follow my tracks, I might have wandered all over the place. I know, if we go in this direction for a mile or two, we should hit the scent of sulphur.”

“If you say so, but what if a cougar attacks us? I might wolf out and wreck your clothes.” Tim jokingly reminded Darwin he was wearing borrowed clothing.

“Don’t worry about the clothes. Besides the only cougar you have to worry about is Suzie Templeton, did you see how she was checking you out?” Darwin asked waking up from his depression.

“Fuck off!” Tim said.

“No, seriously. I saw her checking out your ass. It’s a cute bubble butt you’ve got; don’t be ashamed to show it off.” Darwin poked fun at his friend’s bashfulness.

“Ms. Templeton is like, forty or something…ick!” Tim balked.

Darwin said as though it was gospel, “Hey don’t knock the older women; they’ve been around longer and know more tricks. Besides they have to work harder to impress the young guys, so anything goes.”

“What do you mean, anything goes?” Tim asked, now curious.

“Well, the young girls, your age I mean…they’re what I would call vanilla. That means they’re pretty plain in bed,” Darwin informed.

“You haven’t been with my girls!” Tim declared.

“No, I haven’t. Let me ask you—if you asked your girls if you could eat out their asshole, would they let you?” Darwin shot back in debate.

“Why the fuck would I want to do that?” Tim was horrified at the suggestion.

Darwin burst out laughing realizing he had uncovered Tim’s own vanilla flavoring. “So, I guess they wouldn’t stick their tongue into your ass either?”

“Again, why?” Tim choked. “I’ve only just started to muck them out; it’s like a bloody greenhouse down there!”

“Try showering with them first, that will help with the greenhouse effect. Live a little bud…there’s more to life than missionary style. Haven’t you ever heard the saying, ‘when the red river is flowing, take the muddy back road’?” Darwin was now having fun with Tim’s inexperience.

For a moment Tim remained silent, contemplating his experience, or apparent lack of. “How do you know so much? I thought you were…” Tim stopped short of saying the word, hoping not to offend his friend.

Darwin seized up and turned to look at his friend. The same feeling over came him when anyone asked him anything about his sexuality. It was the one skin he was unable to wear freely. That was a side effect of continuous negative experiences surrounding the subject.

Darwin returned stiffly, “I’ve been with women, only women, and I’ve watched a lot of porn.”

“But you do prefer…guys?” Tim nervously pushed.

Darwin looked to the ground hoping the question would go away, but he knew it wouldn’t. He also knew the answer he gave would make no difference to his friendship with Tim, yet he could feel a cold sweat rushing across his face and his hands began to shake. No other topic or question brought him such unease. It was, in his opinion, a private matter that was no one else’s business. Darwin knew his anxiety came from all the negativity he had seen and experienced throughout the years. It was irrational, but it was also programmed into him, and changing a person’s program was never easy.

“Yeah…I…I…do,” Darwin stuttered out. As the “do” passed his lips a wave of relief swept through him. The scalding tension in his muscles began to leak away through his calves and feet and a feeling of awkward nakedness washed in. For the first time ever, he had admitted it to another person. It was no secret, even Darwin knew that, but at the same time he could never talk about it openly because of his own internalized bigotry. All he had ever wanted was to be normal, and he was about as far off the mark as a person could be in his view. When being raised to an ideal and then having that dream snuffed out not by choice, but by a random convergence of genetics, it tends to create a lot of confusion in a young person.

“Fag!” Tim belted back, crushing Darwin’s moral. Tim didn’t let it go on; he quickly showed his friend he was still his friend and he was only teasing. “I’m kidding! Don’t be so anal! God!”

Darwin didn’t know what to say. He stood in his spot for a moment, wondering if Tim was telling the truth, and suddenly he knew it was fine. “Anal!” Darwin laughed.

“You are pretty up tight about it,” Tim teased. “Is that why you’re so into butt sex?”

Darwin lost it. Laughing uncontrollably, he grabbed his sides and bent over as he struggled for air. He wasn’t really sure why he found the question so funny. Darwin had never done anything with a guy, and the only butt sex he had ever done had been with Mary. As he thought about it, he realized he was a little obsessed with the pooper. “Maybe Tim, maybe.”

The pair continued walking through the trees, darting left and right attempting to make their way in a straight line, but the forest kept throwing up obstacles forcing them off their line of travel. They remained silent only for awhile before the conversation again started up with Tim asking another sexual question.

“Okay I gotta ask,” Tim blurted out. “It’s not a gay question but I’ve heard of this thing, and I don’t know what it is.” Tim stopped.

“Okay, well, what is it?” Darwin replied as his gut wrenched a little from the word gay.

“The Alaskan Pipeline? What the hell is that?” Tim asked genuinely confused.

Darwin chuckled to himself because he had heard of it. He had no desire to ever be involved in any sexual act that involved it; but he knew what it was. Tim would shriek if Darwin told him outright. If the thought of a tongue in his ass made him squirm, surely The Alaskan Pipeline would make him barf. Darwin smirked with his face continuing forward. He took a breath to gain the strength to tell the story as straight faced as he could. He would take some pleasure in this if he did it right.

“Oh, that’s a very old Germanic style of love making. It’s been renamed over the years, I think it was something like, Scheisse Melden Liebe, in German. The modernization of the name was for North America, it’s like we can’t stand anything foreign. Anyway, if a woman will do that for you it’s a sign you are her one, true master.” Darwin stopped to test how his story was weaving. “It’s tricky to accomplish, but once you have them doing, ‘The Pipeline’ just about anything goes.”

“Is it like ass to mouth?” Tim asked, growing excited. “I’ve always wanted a chick to do that for me!”

“If she’ll do the pipeline, I guarantee she’ll do ass to mouth,” Darwin toyed.

“So, what do I have to do?” Tim was unable to stand the suspense any longer.

“Well, first you have to prepare, it’s something you cannot rush,” Darwin again teased, not giving much up. “I recommend eating corn on the cob, lots of it.”

Tim was in complete oblivion. “Corn, why?”

“She’ll appreciate it, it’s like eating pineapple,” Darwin concluded.

“Pineapple?” Tim continued being sexually lost. Although he was a deviant, he had no clue of the inner workings of kinky or mutually enjoyable sex.

“Oh, my God. You don’t know about pineapple?” He clarified genuinely surprised, “Pineapple makes your spunk taste better; it’s something you do for your partner, if you want her to swallow your load.”

“I didn’t know that! I’ll try that! So far, every girl I’ve been with spat it out. It would be awesome if they swallowed my stuff!” Tim was grinning ear to ear, “Okay, so what does corn do?”

“It’s all about pleasing your partner. The corn will add shape and ridges to add to their enjoyment. So anyway, you punch out a loaf, freeze it, and then they fuck themselves with it…anally…vaginally—you decide.” Darwin hit the punch line with ferocity hoping to stun his friend.

Darwin was greeted with silence. The punch line came and went and now he wondered what expression he had created. Darwin smiled to himself, trying not to laugh but the suspense got the better of him. He stopped and turned to find sheer shock with his friend.

Tim was frozen in spot, his jaw slowly dropping exposing his gaping mouth. Tim was somewhere else; in his eyes he was playing out the perverted sexual act. It was like a car wreck, he didn’t want to watch but he couldn’t turn away. The scenario would play out in his mind to conclusion and Darwin could only laugh at the blemish in his friend’s sexually vanilla mind that he was now responsible for.

“Is that a fucking homo thing? Dude, that ain’t right!” Tim uttered softly and dazed.

Unable to hold it in any longer Darwin let out a deep laugh from the pit of his stomach. He was laughing at his friend, but he hadn’t made it up, The Alaskan Pipeline was real. “No Tim, it’s not a homo thing. Though the corn part is good for anal-or so I’ve read. I’ve never done the Pipeline and I have no interest in ever trying it, but it is a real thing. Yes, it’s fucking sick. But I’m not lying when I say, if you can get her to do that, you can get her to do anything!”

“True,” Tim agreed. “I think I’ll stick to my vanilla, and maybe throw some sprinkles on it, and leave it at that. You can have your pipeline corn hole shit!”

Silence again returned to the two. Darwin continued to think about Mary and Steve but he also became hung up on the notion that he had “come out” to someone. It felt like exposing his cock for the world to scrutinize.

“Hey Dar?” Tim asked from behind.

“You want to know about the poltergeist don’t you?” Darwin replied, assuming his friend would suck him dry of every ounce of sexual knowledge he had.

“Ah, no,” Tim replied. “I don’t mean to ask personal questions. I know you like you privacy but I’m confused. If you like dudes, why are we looking for Mary?” he reluctantly asked.

Darwin had known sooner or later the question would come up. Even in his own mind he wasn’t sure what the real answer was. All Mary was to him was a conduit to what he was suppose to have. That wasn’t to say he didn’t love her, but he also didn’t see her during their fornications. In fairness he hadn’t been with any woman who he devoted his complete attention to, secretly he was always thinking about the one, the only.

“It’s complicated. Maybe I’m just being selfish,” he replied.

“Is that fair to her? I know…” Tim paused being careful not to tread onto the subject that made Darwin bleed the most. “I know who you saw yourself with, and I get Mary’s connection…but is that right? Are you even being fair to yourself?”

Darwin again came to a stop. He lowered his head and fought back the tears he knew were on the surface. Tim was right. Darwin continued fighting for something that could never be and he wasn’t sure why he wasn’t able to let go.

“I’m guilty Tim…” Darwin began turning around to his friend.

Tim was mute. His arms were out to his side, palms up turned to the sky and his eyes rolled back to reveal nothing but gigantic white orbs. His rigid body hovered off the ground nearly a foot. Darwin was speechless and barely able to process what he was seeing.

“My god, Tim!” Darwin spat out against his own brain’s will.

Tim’s mouth opened in silence and continued to stretch and contort. His jaw plunged lower, down past his neck and on its way towards his chest. The jaw bone broke and the cartilage gave way until his mouth was as wide as a bowling ball. Still, his body remained stiff.

In a wheeze, a sound began to gurgle from deep within Tim’s chest. The sound began like an oxygen-starved pneumonia patient; bubbling and churning in the fluid-filled lungs. The boiling in his respiration only grew and soon the sound changed from curdled milk being sucked through a straw into something much louder.

Like a chorus of monks chiming in quick succession, the chant began as the sound of one, ten, one hundred and then thousands of Buddhists all emitting the exact same horrifying tone from Tim’s gaping oral cavity.

The world around Darwin vibrated as the tone intensified. Darwin seemed grounded but everything else blurred and disappeared into a Monet style portrait. Tim was clear but the trumpets of hell blazed on louder until Darwin could no longer stand it. Driving his fingers into his ear canals he tried to deafen the tone but it persisted and grew.

Darwin glanced up to Tim in disbelief. The sound was pulsating deep within his eyes and it was beginning to cause Darwin pain. He fell to his knees and he knew he would soon change. He could feel the wolf being kicked from its slumber. Darwin cocked his head up to Tim one final time not knowing what more he could see.

Tim cracked his neck leftwards snapping the bones audibly before drifting overtop Darwin, clipping his head as he raced past. Darwin quickly turned to see which direction Tim had been pulled to, but he was already gone. The parade of Monks could be heard running through the woods and getting further away. The smear of color in the woods lessened and soon the real world returned. Finally, the sound dissipated like smoke and Darwin was again alone in his woods.