Gary Brandner - The Howling

Oriole Jolivet hurried out to meet her as she entered the store. "Hey, Karyn, did you hear what happened?"

"Can it keep for a minute, Oriole? I have an important phone call I have to make."

"Well, sure, help yourself."

Oriole's hurt feelings could be soothed later. Karyn picked up the phone and dialed Inez Polk's number in Pinyon. This was Friday, and Inez had classes only in the afternoon.

The receiver buzzed in her ear as the phone rang on the other end. Karyn waited for the five rings she usually allowed, then five more. No answer. Maybe Inez had gone to school early. Karyn hung up.

"Nobody home?" Oriole asked.

"Apparently not."

Karyn leafed through the telephone book, looking for the number of the school.

"You weren't tryin' to call that friend of yours from over in Pinyon, that Inez, were you?"

Something in Oriole's voice gave Karyn a chill. "Yes."

"Then you haven't heard." Oriole bit her lower lip and shook her head sadly.

"Heard what?"

"She was killed last night."

"Killed?" Karyn felt as though she had been punched in the stomach.

"Ran her car smack into a tree. It happened on the turnoff up by your place. Looks like she might have been on her way to see you."

"A car accident?" Karyn's mind wanted to reject the words. "How did it happen?"

"Hard to say. Anton Gadak thinks she must have dozed off at the wheel. It was him found her about six o'clock this morning."

It would be Anton Gadak. "Was she dead when he found her?"

"Yep. Looked like she died instantly, Anton says."

"Where did they take her?"

"The hospital over in Pinyon, but I don't think you want to go see her. She was cut up awful bad, Anton says. Must have gone through the windshield."

Not with her seat belt fastened, and Inez' car would not start without it. Karyn closed her eyes for a moment, realizing the full horror of the situation. Inez must have learned something and have been coming to tell her about it. The only thing that would have brought her over late at night was the identity of the Drago werewolf. Somehow the beast had got her.

Oriole came over and laid a pudgy hand on Karyn's shoulder. "I'm awful sorry, Karyn. It really hits a person when a friend dies. At least it happened fast. I knew a woman once…"

Oriole's voice droned on, but her words faded from Karyn's mind. First Roy, now Inez. One by one she was losing the few people she could call on for help. Who was left? A name jumped into her thoughts. Chris Halloran. She had forced herself not to think about Chris since the day she had so cruelly sent him away. She had thought vaguely that she would make it up to him someday. Now she had no time.

She wondered if Chris would even speak to her after her hysterical performance. But he was all she had left.

"… know how you feel, Karyn, but these things happen. Like they say, life goes on." Oriole's voice came back into her consciousness.

"Is it all right if I make a long-distance call?" Karyn said. "I'll ask the operator how much it is and pay you for it."

"Sure it's all right. Who you calling?"

"A friend. In Los Angeles."

Oriole stood her ground until Karyn made it clear by standing with her hand on the receiver that she was not going to place the call until she was left alone.

"I'll, uh, go attend to some things in the back," Oriole said.

Karyn nodded. It was too late to bother with the niceties of courtesy. When Oriole had gone she asked for the Los Angeles information operator and got from her the number of Chris's company, Western Industrial Design. She dialed the number, and a woman's voice answered with the name of the firm.

"I'd like to speak to Mr. Halloran."

"Mr Halloran didn't come in today. Can someone else help you?"

"Do you happen to have his home phone number?"

"I'm not sure I should — "

"It's all right, I'm Mrs. Roy Beatty. My husband and I are personal friends of Mr. Halloran."

"Oh, yes, Mrs. Beatty, I've heard him mention your name. Hold on a second, I'll get the number for you."

As Karyn waited, Etienne Jolivet came in the front of the store. He nodded to her solemnly.

"Is that you, Etienne?" Oriole called from the back. "Can you come out here a minute?"

The tall man moved silently past the counter and through the door into the back room.

The girl came back on the line and gave Karyn Chris Halloran's home telephone number. Karyn memorized it, thanked the girl, and hung up. She called the operator back and asked the charges for the call. It came to $1.19. She noted the sum on the back of a brown paper bag and picked up the phone again. She dialed the Los Angeles area code and Chris's home number.

Be there , she thought. Oh, please, God, let him be there. The receiver buzzed in her ear. Halfway through the second buzz there was a click. Karyn went weak with sudden relief. She opened her mouth to say hello, but before she could frame a greeting, Chris's voice came on the line.

"Hi, this is Chris Halloran. Sorry I'm not home at the moment. What you're hearing is my answering machine. If you'll wait for the beep, then leave any message and your number, I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

Karyn wanted to sob in frustration as another hope flickered out. She started to lower the receiver back into the cradle; then the electronic tone beeped faintly. There was still the possibility that Chris was just out of the apartment for a moment. It would be foolish for her to have come this far and not even leave a message.

What could she say? How much time did these things allow for a message? Sixty seconds? Thirty? In as calm a voice as she could manage, Karyn began to speak.

"Chris, this is Karyn Beatty. I'm in trouble, and I need your help. If you hear this, please come to Drago for me. And, Chris, bring a gun."

She hesitated, knowing how crazy the rest of it would sound. She forced herself to go on. "Load the gun with silver bullets if you can. There isn't time to explain anything now, but please, oh please, Chris, believe I need you."

Gently she replaced the instrument and stood for several seconds staring down at it, wondering what effect her words would have on Chris Halloran. Wondering if he would even hear them in time.

"All through with your phone calls?"

Karyn started, then put on a smile as Oriole Jolivet came up beside her.

"Yes, I am. I'll just find out how much it was." She dialed the operator and was told that the charge was another $1.19.

"The total comes to $2.38," she told Oriole. She dipped into her change purse for two dollar bills, a quarter, dime, and nickel.

"I'll owe you the two cents," Oriole said.

"I guess I can trust you for it." Karyn tried to smile, but her face felt all wrong.

Oriole regarded her soberly. "Listen, Karyn, if there's anything I can do, anything at all, just say the word. People sometimes think I'm just a fat, silly woman. I'm more than that."

"I know you are, Oriole," Karyn said softly.

"And maybe I'm not an old friend, but I can be a good one if you'll let me. You know where to find me. You tell Roy hello for me, now, and come on back when you feel like playin' some gin."

"I will," Karyn said. "And thank you, Oriole. Goodbye."

She went out of the store, and the hot desert wind pushed against her as she walked up the street. The dry heat sucked away the moisture of her skin, leaving it feeling scaly. In Los Angeles they called it the Santa Ana wind. They said it made people a little bit mad.

In the shadow of a doorway on the far side of the street — always in the shadow — stood Anton Gadak. His eyes were invisible under the brim of the Stetson. Karyn looked away quickly and hurried on.

When she reached the turnoff to the road that led to her house, Karyn stopped and looked around. There was no tree anywhere near the road that was big enough to smash a car. Whatever had killed Inez Polk, Karyn was sure it was not an accident.