Hair in All The Wrong Places (19 page)

BOOK: Hair in All The Wrong Places
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“Or in here with me?”

Colin didn't answer. It was still a possibility.

“I thought we might be able to figure a way to get him out of there, but now I'm not so sure,” said Becca.

“This is ridiculous. Is that everyone? I mean all the guards?”

“Most of them.”

“Which means Elkwood is unprotected. The other werewolf could be down there right now, but no one is there because they think they already caught him.”

“What are you saying, Colin?”

“We need to tell someone. We have to let someone know that Silas isn't the killer. And that I'm not the killer. That there's a third werewolf in Elkwood.”

Becca looked at Colin with … what?

Admiration? Smells like watermelon.

“I have an idea,” said Becca. “I think I know who we can talk to.”

Becca took Colin's hand, something he never grew tired of, and led him out of the lab and back to the elevator. The large doors swished open.

The numbers on the elevator control panel went to twenty. Another button beneath the numbered ones was blank. Becca pressed it, and the elevator began to drop. “This will feel a little strange.”

The elevator picked up speed.

“What do you mean ‘strange'?”

“We're going to visit the soothsayer.”

“I don't know what that means.”

The elevator was moving faster. Colin felt lighter as the effects of gravity lessened. “Becca,” said Colin, “what's happening?”

The elevator glowed brightly as a loud, throbbing noise thrummed painfully through Colin's wolf ears. Becca had to shout to be heard.

“The soothsayer doesn't live on this plane of existence. We have to go to a different reality to see him!”

“What?”

In a flash of blinding light, Colin felt ill as the world folded in on itself. The pressure in his head was unbelievably painful. And it got worse. He was falling. Or sinking. Or flying. He wasn't sure. Vaguely aware of Becca shouting somewhere close by but he couldn't get past the feeling of being shoved through a very thin tube that was in no way made for his size and shape.

Finally it became too much, and Colin passed out.

Chapter Seventeen
The Creepy Floating Dude

C
olin woke up to Becca slapping him repeatedly. “I'm awake, I'm awake. You can stop hitting me.”

“Sorry about that. The first time you take the elevator to the bottom floor, it messes with your senses a little bit.”

Colin blinked a few times and looked around. They were in a large, cave-like stone chamber, candles flickering all around. There was a single stone table in the center, and from what Colin could see, no way in and no way out.

“Becca, where are we?”

Becca pulled Colin to his feet. His stomach felt queasy, and moving around wasn't helping matters.

“It's hard to explain,” said Becca. “This is an antechamber between our world and a parallel world that lives beneath ours.”

“So, this is hell?”

“I like to think of it as hell's penthouse suite,” said a voice vaguely familiar to Colin. Floating a few feet off the ground behind Colin and Becca was the man Colin had seen in the alleyway the night Silas had bit him. The floating man was still wearing the same shabby brown cloak and hood that covered his body from head to toe. “Becca,” said Colin, “is that man really floating?”

“I'm a witch, you're a werewolf, we just travelled to a different plane of existence, and you're surprised by the creepy floating dude?”

The man tilted his hooded head to the side. “Creepy? Becca, you've never called me creepy before.”

The voice was hollow and cold.

“You live just above Hell and predict the future. And you float. And you're a demon. Creepy doesn't sum all that up, Charles?”

“Charles?” said Colin.

“Sorry,” apologized Becca. “Colin, this is Charles. He's the soothsayer. He's a sort of political refugee from Hell. He works for the US government in exchange for living a peaceful life.”

“A peaceful life that I'm not allowed to leave,” said Charles.

“I've seen you before though, outside,” Colin accused. “That night in the alleyway. You told me I had to go or I'd be late.”

“And I see from that magnificent beast inside you that you were right on time. You're welcome.”

“Thanks, I think. But how did I see you there if you can't leave?”

“I can send an astral projection of myself into Elkwood if there's reason enough. Although Commander Emerson isn't a fan of me doing so.”

“Charles,” said Becca, “if you knew Colin would be bitten, why didn't you tell my father?”

“If I did that, you both wouldn't be here.” Charles floated around the two teenagers and over to the table, then lightly perched on the edge. “My gift is not an exact science. When I look into a person, I can see all the possibilities of every decision clearly laid out before me. Sometimes I can see the future. Other times I can see only the present. That night in the alley, I saw Colin make the decision to leave Elkwood, and I saw the creature that would bring him back.”

“Silas isn't the killer they think he is,” said Colin.

“I know that. The killer is still in Elkwood. He's planning on killing again in just a few hours. I've seen his victim.”

The words settled like ice in Colin's heart but brought a certain amount of relief too.

“I didn't kill Sam Bale.”

“No, you didn't. You killed a deer. And then you ate it.”

Embarrassed, Colin looked at Becca. “I was hungry.”

“Your friend, Silas, will not be able to prevent the murder,” said Charles, “but you, Colin, we can expect some great things from you, I think.”

Colin turned to Becca. “Does he ever speak normally? Straightforward? To the point?” He walked slowly toward Charles. “I don't know who or what you are. In the last week I've been beaten up, tried to skip town, bitten by a
werewolf, turned into a werewolf, which I admit isn't that bad, and discovered that I live in a town full of freaks. I need to know two things: who the killer is, and how do I stop him?”

Charles pulled back the sleeves of his shabby coat to reveal skin burned beyond the help of any antiseptic cream. Hands with long, black nails reached up, pushing back his hood.

Stay calm. It's just a scary-looking demon. A scary, horrific, terrifying, the stuff nightmares are made of demon.

And it was.

Charles's face was burned to the point of having no skin whatsoever. Charred patches of sinew and muscle were all that remained. His teeth were black and pointy. Colin tried his best to look into Charles's eyes, or at least he would have if Charles had any eyes to look into. Dark, empty sockets gaped back at Colin who was fighting the urge to throw up.

“Beautifully hideous, aren't I? This is what a millennium in hell will do for you. As I said, my power is not an exact science. I can only see possible outcomes.”

“Then you know who the killer is,” said Becca. “You must have seen him.”

“Not true, young one. Despite my best efforts, I haven't been able to find the werewolf who killed the young boy and will be killing again very soon unless something is done about it.”

“If you haven't seen him, how do you know—?”

“The victim,” Colin realized. “You said you've seen the victim?”

“Yes,” said the demon matter-of-factly. “Young Ms.
Becca Emerson here is the next victim. She will die tomorrow morning during first period.”

The color drained from Becca's face. Colin placed his hands on her shoulders. “You heard the creepy demon. We know now we can stop it from happening. We have to tell your father.”

“Sadly that won't work,” said Charles. “I've seen the possibilities. I've seen the outcomes. Mr. Emerson will not listen and will not believe either of you. Or me for that matter.”

“Why not?” said Colin.

“You'll see in a moment. My best advice is that you figure out who the killer is before it's too late. It's your only chance.” Charles smiled a wide smile, parts of his face cracking a little.

“You're enjoying this!” accused Colin.

“Well, I
am
a demon. A nice demon but still a demon.”

The area in the cave behind Colin and Becca began to shimmer and stretch as if reality was trying to rip itself open. Then it did. A tear opened, and out stepped a furious-looking Mr. Emerson followed closely by two armed guards. One of them drew a pistol and shot Colin in the leg.

“What the—” was all Colin could manage before everything went hazy. He looked down to see a dart sticking out of his thigh just above the knee. The wolf inside him growled, but the change wouldn't come. The tranquilizer was slowing his heartbeat.

“No!” said Becca to her father. “I'm going to die. The werewolf will kill me. Charles has seen it!”

“Impossible! We've got both werewolves now. Our
psychics no longer believe there's a third. Sgt. Sampson,” said Mr. Emerson to the guard on his right, “escort my daughter home and then make sure she gets to school in the morning. Don't let her out of your sight.”

“Yes, sir!” said Sgt. Sampson and escorted Becca out through the tear in reality that didn't appear to be going anywhere.

“Wargargalagagaga,” mumbled Colin, falling to his knees, as the tranquilizers began to take full effect.

“And you,” said Mr. Emerson to Charles. “I'm sick of your false information. First, you can't find the damn werewolf, even when it shows up at the town hall meeting, and then you didn't bother to warn us about old Mrs. Strauss going weather crazy on us. Or that my daughter and her werewolf boyfriend would try sneaking into our secret army base.”

“Blarghfreend,” said Colin and smiled. At least he thought he smiled. What he was probably doing was drooling.

“At this point,” said Charles, “I'm inclined to tell you that you're making a terrible mistake and that your daughter is in terrible danger, but you won't believe me and will simply tell me to shut up and give me a stern warning.”

“Shut up. Any more screw-ups like this, and we'll be looking at revoking your sanctuary. Clear?”

“Crystal,” said Charles and pulled his hood over his head.

Mr. Emerson pulled a syringe from his pocket and crouched down next to Colin. Colin could now see three Mr. Emersons, and they all looked equally angry.

“That's right. We reviewed the camera footage from outside the base. We know you're a werewolf too. What's your plan? Take over Elkwood? Turn us all into your kind maybe?”

“Balsharts,” said Colin, trying hard to fight unconsciousness.

“We'll find out once you wake up. You're probably wondering what's in this.” Mr. Emerson held up the syringe filled with a yellowish liquid. “This is an inhibitor. We use it in Elkwood to keep the vampire's bloodlust at a minimum. One of our scientists thought it might have the same effect on werewolves, so we tested it on your friend upstairs, and what do you know? It works. Apparently, this little cocktail will keep you from changing. Maybe it'll cure you altogether. We don't really know. But at the very least, it'll stop you from turning into that creature.”

“Splurg,” objected Colin. It didn't work.

Colin felt warmth trickle through him as Mr. Emerson jabbed the needle into his neck. The wolf that had been clawing to get out retreated into the shadows of Colin's mind until he couldn't feel its presence anymore.

Someone was dragging him toward the dark tear in reality. Charles the demon was still perched on the stone table.

“Remember my words, Colin Strauss. You know the creature inside you. You're a werewolf in Elkwood. You don't want to get caught. What would you do?”

As darkness edged in around him, Colin thought about the demon's words.

I'd hide.

“Eigh heed,” said Colin.

Chapter Eighteen
In the Doghouse

C
olin stood in a forest clearing on a bright summer's day, rays of sunlight breaking through the canopy of trees. But he wasn't alone. A massive wolf creature stalked out from behind a nearby bush, coming closer and closer. The sky turned overcast, and the creature circled him.

Colin wasn't afraid, he knew this wolf, it was his friend. He reached out to touch the creature, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't. Every time he reached for it, the wolf would be just a little too far away. The wolf creature looked sad that Colin couldn't reach him, and it howled a mournful howl.

Colin's eyes snapped open. He was lying on the floor of a prison cell. It was a nice cell, not the kind you see on late-night TV shows.

The back wall was solid metal while the front and sides were made up of thick, shiny metal bars. The cell to his left was empty. Silas lay snoring on the floor in the cell to his right.

BOOK: Hair in All The Wrong Places
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