“So, werewolves, eh?” I said. “Any chance they’re as easy to kill as the ghoul was?”
“You wish. Werewolves are nasty creatures, but they can be killed. They’re seriously allergic to silver in almost any form and chopping off their head pretty much does the trick. Anything else, bullets, knives, or whatever, will only slow them down. They heal fast, like magic fast. Chop off an arm or leg and it’ll grow back. If they hold it against the stump, it’ll reattach in a minute or two. Shoot them in the chest with that forty of yours and they won’t even slow down. You’d have to empty the magazine just to get their attention.”
“That kinda sucks,” I said as we slid to a stop in a spray of gravel and dust next to her van. “So what’s your plan?”
“Plan?” Gail asked as she opened both of the side doors. She reached into the dark interior and grabbed something.
I drew my Beretta and cast around for any sign of the creature. “Yeah, plan, you know, like with the ghoul. You going to get its attention and lead it to me?”
“It’s not that stupid, Jesse.” She turned and tossed a pump-action shotgun toward me. I caught it with one hand. “It’s going to stalk us, try to get close enough to rush in before we can put silver into a vital spot.”
I jammed my Beretta into my back pocket and racked the slide on the old Mossberg back just far enough to confirm there was a cartridge in the chamber and more in the magazine. I snapped it closed and braced the butt on my thigh as I turned to face the dark woods on the opposite side of the gravel road.
“So, we have to hit something vital with silver. Then am I supposed to just try to slow him down for you?”
“I hope you can do more than that. There’s silver buckshot in that gun—”
“Silver buckshot? Did you find that at Cabela’s?” I asked.
“No, don’t be stupid, I had to have them loaded special. Now, try to get it in the torso, even if you don’t get anything vital, the silver in his system will cause wounds that won’t heal until he gets it out. That means he’ll have to wait until morning when he’ll change.”
“He can’t change tonight?” I asked.
“Not under a full moon. The rest of the month, he has to force himself to change to wolf or human and it takes energy for each shift. Under the three nights of the full moon, he doesn’t have a choice. From moonrise to moonset, he’s furry.”
“Wait a minute. There’s only one night of a full moon.”
She gave me an annoyed frown. “Don’t let science get in the way of the facts. Scientifically, there may be only one night where the moon is full, but as far as were-creatures go; the nights to either side of the full moon are enough to cause their transformation.”
There was movement at the edge of the trees. I couldn’t make out a shape or texture, but something moved in the undergrowth. I gauged the distance to be about seventy yards, too far for a good shot with the shotgun. I shifted my grip on the weapon and wiped my left palm against my pants. I knelt, without taking my eyes off the movement, rubbed my left palm through the gravel, and stood back up.
“What are you doing?” Gail asked and she stepped close enough for me to smell her. She wasn’t wearing perfume, but she had a natural scent that caused a visceral reaction within me.
“Sweaty palm, just getting it dirty.”
“I thought the Army would have trained that out of you,” Gail said. I felt her shoulder brush mine.
“Tell me something, Gail,” I said and stepped deliberately away from her, moving to put some distance away from our vehicles and anything else the creature could use for cover. She followed and stopped beside me near the center of the church’s parking lot. This time she stayed out of contact. She slipped her handgun from its holster, held it in a comfortable, two-handed, shooting stance, and watched the road and our vehicles.
“What’s that Jesse?”
“What happened six years ago? Why’d you disappear?”
She shrugged. “We moved. It happens.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t leave a forwarding address or a note, or anything.” I stopped and listened. Was that the sound of movement on gravel? I turned more and Gail moved with me, staying three feet to my right. “I looked for you.”
“I’m sorry about that, Jesse. I told you we moved a lot.”
“I remember, but it was because your dad’s work caused him to relocate often. That didn’t mean you couldn’t stay in touch.”
The sound came again. Something was moving in the gravel on the far side of the church.
Gail crouched lower and raised her handgun to cover the front side of the church. “No, but it was the best thing for you. You didn’t fit into my life plans. I tried to tell you.”
I raised the butt of the shotgun and braced it against my shoulder. With my trigger finger, I flicked off the safety, and then lightly curled the tip against the trigger. “Life plans, eh? So what were your life plans that I couldn’t be involved in? I mean, hell, Gail, I thought we had something special.”
“Pretty special, for a year. We were fortunate to have a year, Jesse. That was the longest we had ever stayed in one town before. Say, did I mention these things are incredibly fast?” She asked.
I frowned, but I resisted the urge to turn toward her. “Oh? No, you didn’t mention that. How fast are they?”
Something big and furry bounded from the church’s roof. It landed erect on top of Gail’s van with a loud boom as the sheet metal flexed under
