The Howling

metals.'

'Hey, no offense,' Chris said. 'I'm impressed, that's all.'

The gunsmith relaxed into a grin. 'Don't mind me, I've had a long week.' He stuck out a big hand. 'My name's Buzz Klinger. Call me Buzz.'

Chris took the offered hand. 'Glad to know you, Buzz. I'm Chris Halloran.'

Klinger returned to his work and went about it with the smooth economy of motion that comes with true craftsmanship. Chris stayed out of the way and watched. When the silver shavings had melted, Klinger poured the molten metal into the molds, filling twelve of them exactly.

'You want regular load or high-power in the cartridges?'

'Better make it high-power.' It occurred to Chris that Buzz Klinger had not asked what he wanted with silver bullets. His respect for the man increased.

When the silver had cooled in the molds, Klinger mated the twelve slugs to the loaded cartridges and handed them to Chris along with the unused portion of the silver ingot.

'What do I owe you?' Chris said.

'Ten bucks will cover it.'

'How about your overtime?'

'I figured that in already.'

Chris peeled off a bill and handed it to Klinger. 'Thanks, Buzz. It was a pleasure watching you work.'

Klinger unlocked the front door and Chris started out.

'Hey,' the gunsmith called as Chris started down the sidewalk.

Chris turned back.

'Give my regards to Tonto.'

Chapter Twenty-Six

The little house was empty when Karyn returned after her call to Chris Halloran. In a way, she thought, it was just as well that Roy was not there. He had been so strange lately, that it was difficult for her to be around him. The prospect of being alone tonight was not pleasant, but it would be the last night she would spend in Drago.

She locked the front and back doors and all the windows, making sure the heavy screens on the outside were secure. While she was in the bedroom, Karyn went to the closet and looked through the pairs of shoes, hers and Roys, on the floor. She found one of Roy's white-and-blue Adidas. Just one. No time to dwell on the implications of that now. Roy would have an explanation when he came home.

Moving to the hall closet, she took out the shotgun. She loaded the weapon and propped it up beside the front door. Against the thing she feared was out there, the shotgun was almost useless, but it was better than nothing.

Karyn sat down and directed her thoughts to Chris Halloran. Would he come for her? She tried to remember exactly what she had said into the recorder, but the words would not come back. She could only hope that it would not sound too crazy when Chris played it back.

If he played it back. Karyn knew she could not count on Chris or anyone else to help her tonight. She had only herself.

With a suddenness that shocked her, the sun dropped behind the mountains and darkness claimed the valley. Karyn turned on every light in the house. She flicked the switch for the outdoor light that illuminated the clearing in front. Nothing happened. A hell of a time, she thought, for the bulb to burn out. She took a good bulb from one of the lamps and opened the door to put it in the outside fixture. Then she saw it was not a burned-out bulb. The old bulb had been smashed, and the metal socket battered out of shape, making it impossible to screw in another bulb. Karyn slammed the door and leaned against it, breathing hard. After a minute she returned the good bulb to the lamp and lit a fire in the fireplace.

The blank windows, with nothing but the night outside, seemed to Karyn like inward-staring opaque eyes. She drew curtains over the glass.

She went into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, making it twice as strong as she usually did. There would be no sleep tonight. On the counter she found a carton of Roy's cigarettes. She lit one and pulled in the smoke hungrily.

Soon Karyn found she could not stand it with the curtains closed. Her imagination populated the night with worse horrors than could possibly be there. The moon had come out, so at least she could see a little in the front of the house. The desert wind had not subsided at nightfall, and the boughs of the surrounding trees moved restlessly.

To keep her mind active Karyn thought about what she would do the next day. Whether Roy came back or not, one way or another she would leave this cursed town. Consider the possibilities. Call from Drago for a taxi to come in from Los Angeles and get her, and damn the expense. If an L.A. taxi would not make the trip, try Pinyon. They must have some sort of taxi service there.

If she couldn't get a taxi, she would go out on the road and hitchhike. Take the first ride offered in either direction just to get away from Drago.

If there were no other way, she would take Roy's car and somehow drive the damn thing. She only had to go far enough to get away from Drago. And what did it matter if she damaged the car? It would be a small price to pay for escape.

Satisfied with this plan, Karyn went into the bedroom and searched through Roy's things until she found the spare set of keys. She tucked them into a pocket and felt better, as though she were already on her way.

Back in the living room the fire had dwindled. Karyn put on another log and jostled the coals with the poker. New flames sprang up and crackled reassuringly.

'Karyn!'

The unexpected sound of her name startled her into dropping the poker. Someone, a man, had called from outside the house. Could it be Chris? But she had heard no car drive up.

She crossed quickly to the window. Roy's Ford was there, gleaming dully in the moonlight. That was all.

'Karyn!'

This time she recognized the voice. Roy. Calling her from somewhere outside. Why not at the door?

'Karyn!'

There was a throb of pain in the voice. Pain and something more.

From the edge of the window, standing close to the wall, she looked out to make sure the doorway was clear. From the bookshelf, where Roy had left it, she took the flashlight. Holding it in one hand, she eased the door open just enough to look out.

'Roy, are you out there?'

'Help me, Karyn.'

'Where are you? I can't see you.'

'Over here. Come and help me.'

Opening the door a little wider, Karyn swept the brush beyond the clearing with the beam from the flashlight. She moved the light along slowly until it picked out a face, pale against the shadows. Roy's face.

He was standing partially hidden by a clump of chapparal, looking at her. His expression was tortured. He seemed to strain toward her against invisible bonds.

Karyn stepped halfway through the doorway. 'What is it, Roy? What's wrong?'

'Oh, Karyn.' His voice was a strangled whisper.

He needed her, and for a moment everything else was forgotten. Karyn left the safety of the house and ran across the clearing toward her husband.

'No!' The single word was ripped from Roy's throat, then he vanished back into the shadows.

Karyn turned to run back to the house, then she froze. Standing between her and the door, its shoulders humped, the cruel mouth stretched into a canine grin, was the wolf. The beast's jaws opened and closed. It