Red Rider's Hood (18 page)

“The Crypts?” Moxie asked.

“Bats. Dozens of bats, swarming us, clawing at us, screeching in our ears, but no matter how fast we moved to swat them away, they were faster. In the end, they attacked one of us, and only one. A dozen of them bit into Bobby Tanaka. Why they chose him, I don't know. They could have gone after any of us, but he was just the unlucky one.”

By now everyone in the room was listening to him. I was so drawn into Loogie's tale, I couldn't look away.

“If you think nothing can scare a werewolf, you're wrong, because when one of those bats turned into a girl—you've never heard wolf howls so loud. It was Rowena, the Crypts' leader. She just stood there, smiling at us as the bats behind her drained every last bit of Bobby Tanaka's blood in a minute flat. Then Rowena turned back into a bat herself and flew off with the rest of them.”

“Wow,” was all I could say.

“That's not the worst of it,” said A/C, picking up the story. “The Crypts drained his blood and left him there wailing in agony, because, see, he was a werewolf—he couldn't die…But to be alive without any blood left inside you…it was horrible. He said it felt like someone had sliced open his gut and sewn it full of stones.”

Some of the other Wolves reached down to their own stomachs and held them, as if they could feel a gut full of stones themselves.

“It went on like that for two days,” A/C said, “with Bobby screaming in pain, until Cedric finally silverized him, to put him out of his misery. We all knew the Crypts had done it as a warning.
‘Mess with us, and you'll all end up like Bobby.'
So we never messed with them again.”

“Until now,” said Loogie, and pulled down the collar of his shirt to show two little puncture marks on his neck. Everyone gasped.

“So how come you're not screaming, Loogie?” asked one of
the others. “If the Crypts got you, how come you didn't end up like Bobby?”

“Vampires got a choice,” Loogie said. “Just like we do. We can eat our prey, or we can just bite 'em, and turn them into a werewolf.” Then Loogie pulled down the collar of his shirt a little farther to show two more bites, just beneath the first. “Three bites over three nights and poof! You're a vampire, too.”

The room was silent, until I spoke. “So…it was
you
I saw last night. That flying fox!”

“No way.”

“That's crazy!”

“You're joking, Loogie, right?”

Loogie shook his head. “Want me to ‘wing' right here in front of you? That's what they call turning into a bat—‘winging.'”

But no one wanted to see it. We believed.

“So, Loogie,” asked A/C, “are you a werewolf now, or a vampire?”

“He's both,” said Cedric. We turned to see him standing behind us. “He's what the Mexicans call a
chupacabra
. The strength of a werewolf, the power of a vampire, able to change at will and fly all night long.”

The Wolves looked at Cedric in amazement.

“How come Loogie gets to fly?” asked A/C. “Why not me?”

“Yeah, why not us?” complained the others.

“Don't worry,” said Cedric. “I've been working things out with the Crypts. Thanks to a new pact between them and us, in a few days we're all going to be just like Loogie.”

W
hat do you do if you're a kid living in Pearl Harbor, and you just happen to pick up a message on your walkie-talkie that the Japanese are going to be attacking tomorrow? What if those same Japanese pilots had taken you in and made you their friend?

I had this massive bit of knowledge that no one else knew. Cedric was building himself an army—not just werewolves, but
vampire
werewolves! I mean, how do you kill a vampire werewolf? A silver stake through the heart? What would happen if Cedric got his way, and he started sending the surviving pack members to distant cities, with the power of flight, and a hunger not only for flesh, but for blood? The whole pack was excited about the thought, thrilled by it…and the thing is, so was I. As much as I wanted to stop it before it started, I wanted to fly like Loogie did. I wanted to know the hunger, and the feeling of satisfying it.

Back in my car, I drove aimlessly, breaking all the rules I had learned in Driver's Ed. Finally, exhausted beyond belief, I
pulled over in a parking lot, leaned my head against the wheel, and closed my eyes, trying to sort out my thoughts. Good and evil, right and wrong, had all blended into a murky gray haze.

The next thing I remember, I was turning down Forest Boulevard and parking out in front of Grandma's. I didn't know what I would tell her, but I felt sure I would have the words once I found her.

Her door was unlocked. That wasn't a good sign. Carefully I went in. “Grandma?”

I felt that strange surge of déjà vu—this was exactly as it had been on the day Cedric lay hidden in her bed and stole that bag of blood money.

“Grandma?”

I pushed open the door to her room. This time no one was in the bed—not Grandma, not Cedric, nobody.

“Grandma, are you here? We have to talk. It's important!”

It was getting dark very quickly. Night was falling like a curtain over the day, or maybe it was just the dense trees outside. On Grandma's nightstand sat a glass, and in that glass sat her gross old dentures, all magnified by the water inside. Then a shaft of light pierced a slit in the curtains. It was the moon. It was already night, and the full moon was rising! The moonlight hit the glass, and right before my eyes, the teeth in that glass began to change. They stretched and grew, the canines elongating, getting sharp, and growing until the horrible dentures were so big, they broke the glass.

I couldn't scream, I couldn't breathe, then the bathroom door slammed open, and out loped a werewolf, with big, frizzy gray fur and old familiar eyes.

“Been waiting for you, Red,” the Grandma-wolf said. “Glad you came by.” She picked up the wolf chompers lying on the table and stuck them into her toothless, wolfen mouth.

“There we are,” she said, baring her teeth. “The better to eat you with!”

She lunged at me, I screamed, and
wham
—

—I bumped my head on the steering wheel of my Mustang.

I jumped, still reeling, still believing that the dream was real. It took a few good minutes for me to convince myself that I was still there, in the parking lot, at the wheel of my Mustang, and not at Grandma's house.

As I caught my breath, and shook off the evil feel of the nightmare, I realized that part of the dream was real. The part about the moon…because it was night, the full moon was on the rise, and I could already hear the far-off howls of wolves on the prowl.

The battery on my watch had died, so I had no idea what time it was, but time didn't matter to me anymore—not in the normal sense. All that mattered was that the moon was full, and it was night, which meant that every second was an eternity, and dawn was a lifetime away.

The howls echoed from the faces of buildings, making it hard to tell which direction they came from, and as I drove, turning corner after corner, I felt like I was chasing my own tail. And then I thought,
Pretty soon, I
will
have a tail, if Cedric bites me.
The thought was so powerful, it took my mind off the road, and before I knew what was happening, I barreled through a red light, and a Mercedes came flying out of the intersection, right into my path.

I slammed on the brakes and cranked the wheel to the right. A horn blared, and I missed the Mercedes by inches, but I was still careening out of control. I hit the curb, pedestrians scattered, and I plowed over an empty bus-stop bench.

No! No, not now! I can't have an accident now!

If this morning had blessed me with good luck, tonight was cursing me with bad. I threw the car into reverse, but the wheels just spun. I put it into drive, but that didn't help either. I hopped out of the car to see green radiator fluid pouring out, and the broken bench wedged under the car in such a way that only one of the four wheels was actually touching the ground.

My car! My beautiful car!

But no, I couldn't worry about the car now. Was that a distant scream I heard? A woman attacked by a wolf? Was it just my imagination?

“You all right, son?” said an old man from the group of gawking pedestrians.

“Get out of the streets!” I told them all. “Get to your homes before it's too late!” But they just stared at me like I was insane. Nothing I could do would convince them of the danger. Now, with my car useless, I took off on foot.

I ran till I was out of breath, and further, to the very end of my endurance. Sweat poured from me like rain, and a heaviness filled my lungs. My head began to spin, but I had to push myself on. I heard another howl, not so distant this time. A snarl—it could have been around the next corner. I had lost track of where I was, and realized I had no weapon—even if I found the Wolves, what could I do? Talk them out of devouring innocent people? As if they would actually listen. It's what
werewolves did—it's what they were. Predators. The only way to stop a predator was to cage it or kill it, and I don't think there were any bars in the world strong enough to cage in Cedric and his gang.

If you can't beat them, join them,
said a nagging voice in my head.
It's what they want. It's what you want. Don't deny it!

I put my hands against my head, trying to press the voice away, but it was too deep in me now.
It's out of your hands,
the voice said.
Let nature take its course. And accept
your
true nature. You're one of them. You've been one of them since the moment you stepped into Troll Bridge Hollow.

Then, out of nowhere, something huge, hairy, and reeking like a zoo pounced and brought me down hard. I hit my head on the pavement. Massive paws pressed down on my shoulders, pinning me to the ground, and all I could see was a fang-filled mouth set in a wide-open snarl. My whole head could have fit in that mouth.

I knew who this was. I knew from the single gold fang, dripping werewolf saliva.

“Which side are you on?” said the familiar voice of a girl, from behind Marvin.

“Marissa! Thank God you're—” The Marvin-wolf snarled in my face. It was a deep, jagged roar—an awful sound, like the voice of a demon. I tried to see where Marissa was, but the Marvin-beast filled my entire view.

“Answer me!” Marissa demanded. “And if Marvin smells that you're lying, he'll swallow you whole!”

I believed he could. That horrible mouth. Those awful teeth. And I also believed that he could smell a lie.

“I…I…”

Marvin's claws began to dig into my shoulder.

“The truth!” Marissa said.

“I…I don't know,” I told her. “I don't know which side I'm on.” I had no choice but to admit it now.

It wasn't the answer either of them was expecting, but it must have smelled true, because the pressure on my shoulder eased. Marvin backed off of me. Finally I could see Marissa behind him, standing on the cracked sidewalk of the dimly lit street.

“You can't be on two sides at once,” she said. “Choose, or get out of the way.”

I looked at snarling Marvin, then I looked back to her. “How about you?” I asked. “Which side are you on?”

She didn't answer me right away. “You were right all along about Marvin,” she said. “He's been a full-fledged Wolf for a month, but I didn't know until last night.” She looked at him lovingly, and gently brushed a thick lock of fur back from his eyes. “He became a Wolf to save our family.”

“I don't understand.”

“Wolves won't attack other Wolves' families. They're the only ones in town who are safe. So Marvin became one of them. He sacrificed himself to save me and our parents.”

“You weren't off-limits last night.”

She grinned. “I attacked first. All bets were off. But Marvin here protected me.”

Marvin let out a gentle purr. It had never occurred to me that Marvin might have a reason to be a Wolf beyond his own selfish ambition. Now I understood why he hated me so much.
He had ensured Marissa's safety by becoming a Wolf—the last thing he wanted was to see her dating a Wolf-in-training.

“Marvin turned on the pack last night, by saving me,” she said. “Now he has no choice but to fight against Cedric, too.” Only then did I see that Marissa held the crossbow to her side.

“Grandma! Where is she? Is she all right?”

Suddenly Marvin turned his head, hearing something I couldn't hear.

“They're coming!” Marissa said. “Run, Marvin!”

Marvin glared at me—the same glare I'd seen when his eyes were human. Grandma was right; there was something about the eyes that never changed. Then he bounded off with the speed of a cheetah: a brown blur down a dark street, gone in an instant.