Bright Moon (3 page)

Forgive me, Clara, but there is something I
must ask of you. I have landed myself in some trouble and don’t
know another person I can ask for help. It would mean everything if
you could meet me after work. I can’t explain things now, but I
will then. I know you will not fail me. You have always been a good
friend. I would ask one more thing of you, please take care to keep
this a secret.

Thank you,

Mark

The tension that hung in the air changed
when Dynol entered and she shoved the slip of paper back in her
locker before slamming the door with a clang. He raised a brow at
her, but said nothing of the matter.

“Hey, Clare,” he said. “I didn’t know Mark
would be off today, do you know where he is?”

“How would I know?” she asked too
defensively. Dynol shrugged.

“I only wondered because he usually lets us
know before he takes a day off.”

Clara frowned as worry ate her stomach. She
composed herself and clocked in, going to clean the cat kennels.
Wearing rubber gloves and armed with a litter scoop, she began the
daunting process. The little fuzzy occupants did little to distract
her from the concerning nature of Mark’s note. Aside from the new
worry, her day went by as any other. She completed her tasks as the
hours wore on. She was clocking out when Dynol and Maria came into
the break room.

“Have you heard from Mark?” Maria asked, her
dark eyes alive with worry.

“No,” Clara said with a shake of her head.
“He never called the front desk?”

“Not while I was there. Maybe he had a
family emergency or something.”

They headed for the door and Dynol stopped
at the hall. “Are you coming Clare?”

“I…was going to check my email real quick,”
she lied to stall for time.

“Okay, well, we’ll see you tomorrow then,”
Maria said with a smile.

Clara went to the terminal at the front
desk. She technically wasn’t supposed to open her email at work,
but she wasn’t working and no one paid attention to the rule
anyway. She really only needed a reason to stay without seeming
suspicious. There wasn’t anything but junk in the
inbox
folder and she was about to wipe it clean when the subject line of
one email made her stop with her eyes glued to the unfamiliar email
address. The subject’s title was her mother’s first and last name.
Something of that nature had never happened before—nobody mistook
her for her mother. Yet, it was the only solution she could imagine
as she paused with her finger poised over the mouse.

Images of a virus attacking the work
computer made her hesitate, but curiosity won out. The message
consisted of a single blue link pasted at the top of the page. For
the second time, she hesitated then clicked the link. A new window
opened to a small square of video that showed a disturbing scene.
The camera’s angle was shot from above and she couldn’t see the
woman very well. Her back was to the lens and she lay on a thin
mattress. A woman was obviously being portrayed as a prisoner. The
cell she was in was dim and grungy.

Shuddering at what people could be
entertained by, she was about to close the window when the woman
shifted to her side and Clara could see her face. Her brain
immediately recognized the profile as that of her mother’s and her
heart skipped. She took a shuddering breath and closed the stream
as fast as she could. Someone had a sick sense of humor—a twisted,
evil, sick sense of humor. She deleted the email and blocked the
sender. Shaken, she had no desire to stay alone in the shelter and
peaked outside to make sure Maria and Dynol had really gone so she
could exit the building.

The lot was empty besides her little beat up
sedan. She crossed the linoleum floor to the doors, eager to forget
the image that burned in her mind. The sunlight gleamed off the
plastic plants by the entryway. Making sure the doors were locked
before she stepped into the day, she resolved to sit on the hood of
her car to wait. The sun had sunk low in the afternoon sky when his
orange truck tore into the parking lot. She recognized Mark’s
vehicle, but not his driving. The tires ground on the asphalt when
it stopped with a jolt. He pushed his door open and came to her
with a sense of urgency.

“Thank you,” he said quickly. He looked very
relieved. “Thank you so much for meeting me!”

“You’re welcome, but what’s wrong?” she
asked as she eased off her car.

“Come with me,” he said and pulled her
toward his truck. She stopped and pulled from his grip.

“Where are we going?”

“I could explain, but that would waste time
I don’t have. Will you trust me?”

Clara’s stomach knotted sickeningly as she
studied his pleading face. “Alright, I’ll go with you.”

“You are wonderful, Clara! Thank you!” he
said and ushered her toward his truck once more. She found herself
sitting in the passenger seat, unsure of how to respond to being
called
wonderful
. He appeared in the driver’s seat and
revved the engine. The truck shot out of the lot and sped down the
road.

“Be careful,” she warned. “You’re going to
get pulled over.”

“I won’t get pulled over,” he said with a
laugh. “Will you help me out? There is a silver coin in the ash
tray, will you put it in my shirt pocket?”

She checked for the coin and did as he
asked. He drove his truck down the few main roads of the small town
before directing it toward the mountain where the trees were the
thickest.

“Mark, where are we going?”

“It’s kind of a surprise,” he said and
flashed a smile.

“You made it sound like an emergency,” she
said and her eyebrows puckered.

“I suppose it could be viewed that way,” he
responded and pressed the gas harder. She didn’t like the sudden
hard look in his eyes.

“I want you to take me back,” she said while
glancing down the road as if the next bend would reveal their
destination.

“Hey, sugar, don’t get all uptight now,” he
laughed.

“Mark,” she said under her breath. “I
thought you were in trouble.”
“Yes,
‘trouble’
is correct,” he agreed with a nod of his
head. The sky was ever darkening. Faint hues of indigo around the
horizon were the only traces of the sun and stars began to dot the
sky. Mark turned down a dirt road surrounded by thick
vegetation.

“Take me back,” she demanded a second time
after the truck bounced through a dip. He didn’t respond and they
drove in silence. They took another turn down a small road and the
vehicle lurched to a stop minutes later. He was out and popped her
door open before she could get a feel of their surroundings. She
shrank back when he reached inside.

“Come on, we’re here,” he said and smiled
again.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” she said
with wide eyes.

“Have I ever mistreated you?” he asked,
leaning against the open door.

“No, but you’ve never dragged me out to the
mountains either.”

“You aren’t afraid, are you?”

She paused when he offered his hand again.
She let him help her down. The truck door slammed and the bang
drifted into the clear night. The crisp air held hints of autumn.
They stood in a clearing shroud in shadow and it was oddly silent.
She heard a snarl and growls coming from the opposite end of the
truck. She jumped in alarm.

“Did you hear that?” she asked, standing
closer to Mark.

“That would be your surprise,” he said. He
grabbed her hand and dragged her around the truck to proudly reveal
four huge boxes—one lined alongside the other—draped with tarps.
One of the boxes rocked from side to side and another snarl
erupted. Clara dug her feet into the soft, giving earth when Mark
advanced toward them. He left her and pulled the tarps off each
box, wadding them up and tossing them aside. The boxes actually
turned out to be large kennels from the shelter. She couldn’t see
in them, but wasn’t about to go closer.

“What do you have in there?” she asked in a
whisper. Fear crept up her arms and legs.

“Wolves,” he said as if it were the most
obvious thing in the world. He tapped the plastic top of the
nearest cage and a snarl resulted. “You see,” he continued. “I have
a long standing spat with my brother and I’m afraid it will only be
resolved by you.”

“I don’t know your brother.”

“I want you to understand that this isn’t
personal. Unfortunately for you, my brother has impeccable
taste.”

“What are you talking about?” she demanded
as he moved around the front of the kennel and loosened the latch.
“Don’t let them out!”

“I would run if I were you,” was his only
response. He shifted to the second kennel and the spring popped.
The wire door swung slowly and a dark lump moved within. Wild eyes
reflected the light before the snout of a wolf grew from shadow.
The snout drew into a snarl and rumbling growls tumbled from its
chest. Clara’s pulsing heart was in her throat when the animal
zeroed in on her.

“Mark?” she whispered and her voice shook
uncontrollably.

“Seriously, sugar, they’ve been trained to
attack your scent. I would run.”

That was the last warning she needed. She
turned and ran toward the road. Adrenaline pushed her to run faster
than she knew was possible. The snarls were getting closer. The
darkness hindered her steps as she picked her way through the
shadows of the trees. Everything went by in a flash as her legs
pumped harder and harder. “No!” she screamed when she glimpsed a
wolf running parallel to her. Another scream burst from her throat
as she exerted all the energy she could summon, unfortunately it
was not enough. She hadn’t reached the dirt road Mark had turned
down when a wolf attacked from her right. She fell and it tore at
the hem of her jeans. She kicked its face and scrambled to her
feet, only able to run two steps before another pounced on her
back, tearing into her shirt and pulling her hair. The first wolf
jerked at her pants with his teeth. She screamed and tried to kick
him off. His teeth sank around her shoe and she flipped over in
effort to throw off the one on her back. The other two came from
the darkness and there was nothing she could do but curl into a
ball and cover her head with her arms.

The wolves suddenly stopped and blackness
darker than night passed over them. She sat up only to be thrust
down with such force that her head collided with something hard and
her vision went dark. She fought for awareness when someone lifted
her, but she could do nothing. The next thing she knew, she was
lying on her back looking up at the dark shadow of trees set
against the night sky. Cold, ribbed metal dug into her flesh. She
was in the bed of Mark’s truck. Her breath caught in her chest when
the last voice she wanted to hear drifted to her.

“You are weak now, Tyson,” Mark was saying.
“Strangely, I envy you. I would give anything to be weak
again.”

“Just let her go,” a voice she had never
heard before said. His was low and broken, as if he struggled to
breathe. “She has nothing to do with us. Think of the damage—”

“Ha!” Mark’s voice rang. “
You
are
telling me to consider the damage? Really? You do recall how I
became this way? You of all people have no right to speak to me of
not causing
damage
!”

She shifted carefully and slowly sat up to
peak over the side of the truck. The scene before her caused her
stomach to drop. A crude, metal cage had been fashioned not far
from the kennels. The earth around was disrupted, looking as if the
walls had sprung from it. In the middle of the oddly glistening
cage knelt the man she assumed to be Tyson. She could discern his
light brown hair and light blue eyes that seemed electric in the
light of the moon. His skin was pale and his face waxy.

“I know you’re angry, but you aren’t angry
with her.”

Mark chuckled, sounding borderline insane.
His back was to her as he stood dominantly over the other. “Of
course not…but she was very instrumental, and I suspect she will be
in the future as well.”

“You can’t keep her!” Tyson snapped, making
a feeble attempt to get to his feet. Mark laughed and shook his
head. His body shifted slightly, revealing a gun in one hand.

“Why ever not? I think we both know someone
who will be thrilled to see her.”

“You wouldn’t!”

Mark bent down to sit on his haunches,
resting his arms on his knees. The leaves rustled under the soles
of his shoes when he leaned closer to speak softly. “You know I
would. I’ve done it before and would do it again just to see the
look on your face.”

Clara had heard enough. She knew there was
little chance of escape by running, not with wild animals trained
to hunt her on the loose. Carefully, she shifted to sit on the edge
of the tailgate, slowly lowering each foot to the earth. Her heart
hammered anew when Tyson moved suddenly, lurching to the edge of
the cage and reaching through the bars. Cold, mean laughter erupted
from Mark’s throat when he leaned from his grasp with little
effort. Tyson sucked in air between his teeth and shook his hand as
if he’d been caused some kind of pain.

“Do you think you deserve less?” Mark asked.
“After what you did? This has been a long time coming and you know
it.”

“You’re a coward!” Tyson growled, causing
Mark to laugh again. Using the distraction to her advantage, she
forced her trembling legs to move. She picked her way over twigs
and dry leaves, somehow able to move without sound until she stood
within arm’s reach of Mark. He was too busy gloating to notice. She
held her breath, unsure of what to do. Her heart ran with fresh
fear when he moved to stand. Panic stricken, and her veins coursing
with new waves of adrenaline, she slammed into him. His faced
smashed into the bars with bone cracking force and blood rushed
from his nose. He slumped to the earth, unconscious. She kicked the
gun aside and it bounced into a pile of leaves.