The conclusion to our tale (see here for Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4).

Walter remembered the savagery of Gray’s wounds. He had no desire to see the old wolf maimed and mutilated. “No, I won’t say anything. Just make sure it’s painless.”

“I promise. You’ve been a good friend to him, Walt, I’m sorry he summoned you. In a way, though, it’s for the best. A lot of us felt it was a mistake for Gray to bring an outsider into the pack. It’s something I’m going to rectify.” Her voice grey deeper, her face grew longer, and her arms and shoulders sprouted thick hair.

Walt laughed.

Eviline hesitated. “Not the reaction I anticipated…”

Walter said, “Have you ever heard of Colloidal Silver?”

The werewolf shook her head.

“I’m not surprised, I only learned about it two years ago myself. It’s a new age medicine, supposed to kill bacteria or some such thing. I don’t actually believe in it myself. What attracted me to it, however, was that it contains silver. The only downside is if you take it every day for a long enough period, the silver starts to collect in your skin, and…”

“You turn blue,” Eviline finished.

“I prefer to think of it as blue-gray, but yes, it turns a person blue. So, while Rose and I do have to put up with neighborly whispering and the occasional finger pointing child, I think it’s a small price to pay. One bite out of me and you’ll die.”

“Clever.”

“I thought so.”

“What do you want?”

“Just an extension of the original deal, no werewolf attacks on humans, including Rose and I. In return, I will continue helping the pack.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I’ll walk out of this cabin and announce that Gray is terminally ill and you are planning on seizing control. I don’t know who would win the ensuing fight, but I’m certain your pack will be worse for the wear.”

Eviline’s features shrank back to her human appearance. “Nash!” she called.

Nash opened the door. Walter held his breath.

“Drive Walt home, please, his business is done here.”

Nash nodded.

They rode home in silence. Walter wondered if Nash knew what happened in the cabin but didn’t ask.

Nash dropped Walter in front of his SUV. “See you around Doc,” Nash called cheerfully.

Walter waited for the Jeep’s taillights to disappear before he walked over to his SUV and climbed in. After turning on the engine, he took out his phone.

“Hi Rose, you can come out of the panic room and put away the silver bullets. I’m coming home.”

THE END                                                                                                                                 copyright 2013 John Lance

The adventure continues (see here for Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3).

Whatever was under the towel was the size of a small, very still, raccoon. Walter didn’t see any blood, which he took as a promising sign. Carefully he pulled back the towel.

“It’s a stuffed bear. Or at least, part of one,” he said with relief. The head and half of the torso were intact, but the rest was shredded, stuffing trailing out the base like intestines. Its eyes were torn off, along with an ear, and it smelled of urine. Walter pulled a small, sharp tooth out of the bear’s head. It was a dog’s, or a wolf’s.

“Can you save him?” Gray asked.

“Save who, the bear?” Walter asked.

“Yes, can you save Bobo? He doesn’t speak to me anymore.”

“Well, if you mean someone’s ripped his squeaker out, you got that right,” Walter said. “I think you’re going to need a new-“

“Ahem.”

A woman stepped out of the shadows. Walter realized she had been there the whole time, watching him, like a predator.

She was tall and willowy, with long brown hair that hung to her waste. Despite the chill she wore a flowery summer dress with spaghetti straps. Her feet were bare.

“Evi?” Walter said. He could still see traces of the seven year old girl he met two years ago in the woman’s sharp cheek bones and full lips.

“I go by Eviline now,” she said.

“Evi!” Gray’s eye lit up. “When did you get back?”

“I’ve been here the whole time, Daddy, remember? I found Bobo.”

Gray’s lip quivered. “Bobo!” His cry turned into a howl.

“Why don’t you let Grim take you for a hunt to sooth your nerves? There’s a herd of deer at the upper end of the lake.”

“What about Bobo and Walt?”

“I’ll take care of them. You go have some fun.”

Gray nodded slowly and started walking to the door. By the time Grim opened it to let him out, Gray had transformed into a thin, white furred wolf.

“I’m sorry he involved you, Walt. He still thinks of you as the man who can fix anything.”

“Well, we go way back,” Walter replied. “What can I do to help your father?”

She shrugged. “Nothing, he’s just getting old. It’s only a matter of time before someone challenges him to be the alpha. It would be easier on him if he just went for a run and fell through the ice, or suffered some other mishap, something quick and painless.”

Walter’s eyes widened at the coldness in Eviline’s voice. He struggled to remind himself that Gray and Eviline were werewolves, not humans, and they lived by different, wilder, rules.

“Not today,” Eviline reassured him. “I still need time. But he almost blew it with his stupid bear. Squeaking it all night long, slobbering all over it, someone could have heard.”

“So, you shredded it,” Walter held up the tooth he found.

“My last baby tooth,” Eviline said with a sly smile. Walter spotted the gap where a canine should have been.

“Why did you have to piss on it?”

Eviline looked embarrassed, and then angry. “Look, he was ticking me off. I have Nash and Grim and a few others, but I still need to gather more support. He just needs to hold it together until summer.”

“And then you take over? Does he know what you’re planning?”

“Of course not, why, are you going to tell him?”

Walter remembered the savagery of Gray’s wounds. He had no desire to see the old wolf maimed and mutilated. “No, I won’t say anything. Just make sure it’s painless.”

“I promise. You’ve been a good friend to him, Walt, I’m sorry he summoned you. In a way, though, it’s for the best. A lot of us felt it was a mistake for Gray to bring an outsider into the pack. It’s something I’m going to rectify.” Her voice grey deeper, her face grew longer, and her arms and shoulders sprouted thick hair.

TO BE CONTINUED...                                                                                                                       copyright 2013 John Lance

Our tale continues (see here for Part 1 and here for Part 2)

His last visit was two years ago, to help Nash with a severely sprained ankle. That trip left Walter feeling uneasy. Gray was friendly as always, but Grim and others made it clear they did not want Walter, or any human, in the camp. It was the first time he ever felt in danger.

Walter’s thoughts were interrupted by a bump that bounced him so high his head grazed the ceiling. The paved road gave way to a dirt road that consisted of two parallel ruts.

Even Nash needed to slow down, and they joggled along at a slow thirty miles per hour. They passed a weathered, dilapidated sign that said “Welc    To Ca p Su shin .” A minute later the Jeep stopped in front of three long cabins.

The cabins were in poor shape. There were gaps in the siding and every window was cracked. Nash stopped in front of the only cabin with a light on.

Walter started to open the door, but Nash said, “Just a minute Doc.”

The Jeep was surrounded by wolves. Walter spotted Nip with her distinctive black and white spots, and Panter, who was so large he looked like a small bear. There were others he did not recognize.

Grim growled. “They’re all out there.”

“So much for keeping it quiet,” Nash said.

“I’ll get rid of them,” Grim said.

Grim leapt from the car. His body twisted and changed in the air, and a wolf landed on the ground. Barking and snapping, Grim lunged at Nip, and she went racing away.

Grim charged the others, scattering them. Even Panter was no match for an enraged Grim and the giant wolf raced away whimpering and howling.

“He’s not subtle, but he is effective,” Walter said.

“Come on Doc,” Nash said.

Nash escorted Walter up the stairs and opened the door to the cabin. “He’s inside.”

“You’re not coming?”

Nash shook his head. “No one goes in but you.”

Walter hesitated.

Nash patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry Doc. You’re the safest person in the world with him.”

Walter entered the cabin. It was a large room, having once been the dining hall for the camp.

A single kerosene lamp rested on the floor next to a ragged yellow towel. The towel was spread like a shroud over something small.

An old man paced back and forth, muttering to himself and gesturing wildly as if giving a speech to the air. His shadow flickered and flew across the wall like a wounded vulture.

A pair of suspenders held up the old man’s frayed jeans. He had no shirt or shoes, and a mane of matted, unruly white hair hung in his face. The old man pushed it back, and Walter saw one eye was milky white. Then he noticed the broken nose and the three scars across the old man’s cheek.

“Gray?”

Gray sniffed the air. “Who’s there?” His voice was hoarse and strained, like an old dog’s bark.

Walter reminded himself that while it was only two years since their last meeting, those years felt like fourteen to Gray.

“Gray, it’s me, Walter.” He stepped further into the light so Gray could see him better.

“Walt?” Gray’s thick eyebrows came together in confusion, and then rose in relief. “Walt, thank god!”

“Is everything ok Gray? What happened?”

But Gray was distracted. “Walt, are you blue?”

Walter nodded. “It’s a skin condition called Argyria. It’s very rare.”

“The years have not been kind Walt,” Gray tsked. The irony was not lost on Walter.

“Gray, tell me what happened.”

“Oh, it’s terrible Walt. They, they,” he began whining like a frightened puppy and pointed at the towel. “You’ve gotta help him.”

“Him?”

“Bobo.”

Walter crouched down beside the towel, but didn’t touch it. As a vet he had seen many unpleasant sights, dogs hit by cars, sheep attacked by coyotes, any number of animals caught in traps, and they always seemed to be brought in wrapped in a yellow towel.

Whatever was under the towel was the size of a small, very still, raccoon. Walter didn’t see any blood, which he took as a promising sign. Carefully he pulled back the towel.

TO BE CONTINUED...                                                                                                                  copyright 2013 John Lance

A continuation of our tale (see here for Part One)...

Grim barked gruffly and jogged toward the opposite end of the parking lot. A set of headlights came on.

“Unless you have your own ride,” muttered Walter, following the wolf. .

As they got closer to the dented, rusted Jeep, Grim morphed from a canine walk to a crouched, gorilla-like gait, before eventually striding on two legs. He was the hairiest, nakedest man Walter had ever seen. As a human, Grim’s right ear was little more than a ravaged hole, and his entire body was covered in thick, curly black hair except for his scarred shoulder.

Grim opened the rear door and gestured for Walter to get in.

“Aren’t you chilly?” Walter asked.

Grim’s eyes narrowed. “My patience is wearing thin, doctor.” His voice rasped like a pack-a-day smoker’s.

“Okay, still no sense of humor, just checking,” Walter said. The rear seat was hard and uncomfortable, the padding and springs having surrendered long ago. The whole interior reeked of wet dog.

“Heya Doc,” said the driver. The young man looked back at Walter and smiled. His thick jaw was covered with stubble and his nose was broad with large nostrils. A furry unibrow made the ridge of his brow even more pronounced and Neanderthal like. His flannel shirt was askew, since he missed a button or two, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.

“Hi Nash, you’re looking well. Did the leg heal okay?” Walter replied.

“Yup, good as new, thanks Doc.”

Grim got in the car. Nash looked at him and said, “You know, even the die hard nudists cover up in winter.”

“Just drive.”

Nash shrugged. “Okay, but if we get pulled over by the cops there’s going to be some explaining to do.”

“Then don’t get pulled over,” Grim grunted.

“Ha, you’re in luck Doc, Grim is in a chatty mood.”

Grim’s glared at Nash and the corner of his eye jumped and twitched.

“Alright, alright, no need to get all spazzy,” Nash replied as he pulled out of the parking lot.

Nash adjusted his rear view mirror. “You okay Doc? You look a little, um, blue.”

“It’s just the cold, Nash,” Walter lied. He didn’t want to get into the details with the werewolf.

“Oh, I’m a numbskull, I forgot you need heat.” Nash turned the Jeep’s heater on full blast, but it just blew cold air.

“Can you tell me what this is all about?” Walter shouted over the Jeep’s rumbling engine.

Nash didn’t have any trouble hearing him. “Don’t really know. He just said to bring you as soon as possible.”

“Do you mind if I call my wife and let her know I’m going to be late? She’ll worry otherwise.”

“Sure,” Nash replied. Grim growled but Nash just shrugged, “What’s the harm?”

Walter took out his smart phone and dialed. “Hi Rose, I’m going to be late, some of the old gang stopped by. Yes, that old gang. Yes, you probably should. I love you too.” He hung up.

Snowflakes drifted into the Jeep’s headlights, glittering like will-o’-the-wisps. Nash pushed the Jeep, hurtling along the winding back roads with such abandon that Walter slid back and forth from one side of the seat to the other.

“Maybe you should slow down?” he yelled to Nash.

“Don’t worry, Doc. I’ve got things under, whoops!” Nash jerked the wheel hard around a particularly tight curve, “control,” he finished.

Walter sighed and tried to relax. The snow began to fall heavier.

It had been a night like this eleven years before that Walter found a wounded wolf in the shelter parking lot. He carried the unconscious animal into the shelter, stitched up the wolf’s wounds, and spent the night sleeping beside him in a cot.

When Walter awoke the next morning and discovered a wounded young man in the crate rather than a wolf, his first instinct was to call the police. Fortunately, his second instinct was to talk to the man, which probably saved Walter’s life.

The man called himself Gray, and he and Walter quickly came to an understanding. Gray’s pack had killed several people over the years, attacks which inevitably led the local police to hunt down and kill the regular wolves in the area, something Walter always protested. Gray pledged to stop the attacks if Walter would serve as the clan’s doctor. Walter agreed.

Later Walter learned Gray was injured fighting the alpha of his pack, a fight that ended with the alpha’s death and Gray assuming the leadership.

Over the years, Walter had been summoned to the werewolves’ camp to patch up injuries suffered during hunts or encounters with other packs, deliver litters of pups, or treat the occasional flue outbreak.

His last visit was two years ago, to help Nash with a severely sprained ankle. That trip left Walter feeling uneasy. Gray was friendly as always, but Grim and others made it clear they did not want Walter, or any human, in the camp. It was the first time he ever felt in danger.

TO BE CONTINUED...                                                                                                                      copyright 2013 John Lance

Something a little different. This story is too long for a single post, so I'm going to break it up into parts.

“See you tomorrow Mr. Freeze,” Delilah called from the doorway of Walter’s office. She already had her green parka on and was zipping up the front.

As always, Walter Tyler took Delilah’s ribbing about the blue color of his skin in stride. He smiled and said, “Good night Delilah, try to stay warm.”

“You too Doc, make sure you get home before the blizzard hits.”

“That should be easy tonight. It was a good day.”

“I thought so too. But then, why are you so blue?” Delilah joked.

Walter rolled his eyes. “It never gets old, does it Dee?”

Delilah laughed. “Not for me. Goodnight Doc.” Delilah flipped up the hood of her coat and left.

Even though it was only four thirty in the afternoon, Walter decided to call it a day. Delilah was right, it had been a good, no, great day for the North Adams No-Kill Animal Shelter. They managed to place their latest “guest,” Rusty, a blind, two year old Irish Setter, with a family that morning, and while a new group of rescues would arrive on the weekend, for now, at least, the shelter was empty.

Walter smiled. Only another animal lover could appreciate how happy quiet, vacant kennels made him. It meant all his charges were safe and warm with loving families.

He made his last rounds, locking doors and checking the (empty) cages. He couldn’t help himself, thirteen years of habits died hard.

Walter landed as the shelter’s vet after Veterinary school. At the time, he thought it would be a temporary position. Then his boss resigned and Walter took on the roll as the ‘Interim Director.’ Once he met and fell in love with Rose and they decided to settle down in town, his fate was sealed.

And now, even if he wanted to, it would be almost impossible to get another job. People had a hard time getting past the blue skin.

There was a mirror next to the coat rack. When Walter looked at himself he saw a man who was slightly overweight, though there was still the hint of muscle from his days rowing crew at the university. He started growing a beard, but the blonde stubble only made the blue even more striking. He decided to shave in the morning.

“It’s not even really blue. It’s more of a slate,” he muttered. Walter put on his coat and went out into the cold.

Walter tugged tightly on the front door to make certain it closed and his gloved fingers fumbled the keys into the lock. A bitter wind tousled his hair, and he realized he left his wool cap in the office.

“The hell with it, I’ll get it tomorrow,” he thought. He locked the door, turned around, and nearly dropped his keys in surprise.

A wolf sat in front of him. There was a splash of black on his gray furred back and his eyes were yellow and intense. One ear was ragged and torn, like a puppy’s chew toy, and there was a scarred, bare patch on his shoulder.

“Hello Grim,” Walter said.

Grim didn’t wag his tail or acknowledge him.

“Look, I don’t know what he needs but tonight isn’t good.”

The wolf blinked slowly, as if thinking about what Walter said.

“I’ll come see him this weekend.” Walter stepped in the direction of his Toyota SUV.

Grim rose to all fours and growled.

Walter looked up at the sky. It got dark early in January in New England, and through a break in the clouds he could see the moon was waxing gibbous, not quite full. Grim’s control would be questionable.

He sighed. “Fine, I’ll come, but I’m going to have to get in my car.”

Grim barked gruffly and jogged toward the opposite end of the parking lot. A set of headlights came on.

“Unless you have your own ride,” muttered Walter, following the wolf. .

TO BE CONTINUED...                                                                                                                     copyright 2013 John Lance