The manager was behind the desk, running the barker’s credit card through the machine. An open newspaper was spread on the counter and a small black and white closed circuit TV was mounted on the wall, showing the walk from parking lot to the office. The groundskeeper had resumed his sweeping.
“Do we need a reservation?” The barker was asking.
“Nope.”
“You have fifteen vacant double rooms?” the barker was incredulous and relieved at the same time.
“Yep,” said the manager.
“Isn’t that unusual, to have so many free rooms?”
“Nope,” said the manager. “It’s usually pretty quiet in these parts. We mostly pump gas for vehicles on the interstate.” He handed the credit card back to the barker. “You’re all set.”
The manager pulled open a wooden drawer, counted out keys for fifteen rooms and handed them to the barker.
“Hector!” the manager bellowed out. “Hector! Get in here!”
The groundskeeper outside continued his work brushing snow from the walk. The manager rose and went to the door.
“Hector! Get your sorry ass over here! Now!”
The groundskeeper stopped clearing the walk and came slowly up to the office entrance.
“You come when I call you, hear?” the manager shouted and shoved Hector in the chest with both hands. Hector gave way, melted lightly backwards, and the manager stumbled forwards from his own momentum and fell face first onto the walk. Josey helped the red faced manager to his feet.
“Please,” said Josey, “don’t trouble him on our account.”
“Ahh,” grumbled the manager. “My achin’ back! Hector, you old fool, show these folks to their rooms. Then finish this walk. That’s what I pay you for. What’s taking so long, anyway? How long does it take to clear the goddam walk in the first place? The snow is falling faster than you clear it, and it’s just a flurry, you lazy, good for nothing...”
“Please,” said Josey.
“Ehh,” grumbled the manager. He waved his hand in disgust and turned back into the office.
“I’m sorry if we’ve caused you any trouble,” Josey said to the groundskeeper.
Hector smiled serenely and motioned for them to follow. They walked around the side of the office and, in the rear, Josey saw two rows of cabins flanking a courtyard. Beyond the cabins, at the edge of the property, thick woods began and sloped up the steep side of a small mountain. The falling snow was carpeting the ground and draping the evergreens in a shawl of white. All around was silent.
Hector showed Josey and the barker which cabins their group was in. They went back to the lot and handed out the keys. The troupe members retrieved their bags from under the bus and trudged around back to their rooms.
In the office, the phone was ringing. The manager put down the paper and picked up the receiver,
“Perkins’ Motel. Perkins speakin’... Who wants to know?.. Oh, I see... Yes, sir. Well, in that case, yes, they’re here...”
* * *
“I’ve located them.”
Professor von Holzing looked up from the microscope to see Straker standing in the lab doorway.
“They didn’t get far and the boy is with them.”
“Yanosh! What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in the hospital!”
“No time for that, Professor. I heal quickly.” He rotated his shoulder and clenched and unclenched his fist. “Feels OK. I took the bandage off. Takes more than a dog bite.”
Von Holzing looked at Straker curiously.
“I know exactly where they are.”
“Where? How?”
“I’ve made a few calls. The circus left town, but one bus broke down, the one with our subject. They’re holed up in some motel in Pennsylvania, just past the water gap. I have the address. We better get moving.”
“You mean now?”
“Sooner the better. I’m double parked on Broadway,” grinned Straker.
“Just a moment, Yanosh.” Von Holzing stood up, unlocked the doors of a glass cabinet and took a small bottle from the shelf. He uncapped it and handed it to Straker. “Smell this.”
Straker took a whiff and jerked his head back. “Ugh. That’s some nasty medicine, professor.”
“It’s harmless to you or me, Yanosh, but highly toxic to Upwyr. It rapidly dissolves their blood cells. The serum is highly concentrated. One drop is sufficient to cause massive internal hemorrhage. Death comes quickly and there is no antidote.”
“I don’t want to handle that stuff without gloves, Professor.”
“Why not? It’s quite harmless to humans.”
“Can’t be too careful.”
“I suggest you coat your bullets with the toxin. One hit, even if you only graze it, will drop an Upwyr in its tracks. You don’t even have to break the skin.”
“Brilliant, Professor.” Straker took out the magazine of his Colt 45. “Do you have a small brush and a pair of gloves?”
A half hour later, Straker’s black SUV with the tinted windows was speeding west on Route 80.
* * *
Josey and Tamara were sharing a room. Josey was lying on the bed while Tamara had gone next door to check on her grandmother. Night had come and snow was still falling. Outside the window, big flakes were swirling down and the white carpet on the ground was several inches deep.
Josey was thinking of Tricia. He was feeling more and more guilty about running out on her. She must think he’s a real jerk. It wasn’t right to just drop her and leave. Tricia and his old, familiar life, his normal life, maybe his real life, didn’t look so bad after all with all that was happening. They were calling to him, drawing him back.
He picked up the motel phone on the night table and dialed. It began to ring.
“Hello?”
“Trish. It’s me.”
“Josey!”
“I’m so sorry... about everything.”
“Where are you?”
“On the road with the circus.”
“Where, Josey? Where?”
“At some god forsaken rundown motel.” Josey looked at the sign on the back of the door, “Perkins’ Motel and Gas. It’s off 80, in Pennsylvania, a few miles past Stroudsburg.”
“I miss you, Josey.”
“I miss you, too. That lunatic Straker was shooting at me. I’m lucky to be alive. I don’t know what to do.”
“Why don’t you tell the police?”
“I can’t. There’s more to it. These circus people, the fortune teller, they’re... different. Not like you and me. The cops would definitely not understand.”
“What are you going to do?”
“We’ll figure something out.”
“I want to be with you. I can help.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“I love you, Josey.”
The door opened and Madame Sonya stepped into the room with Tamara behind her. “He’s here.”
* * *
Josey put the receiver down on the cradle.
“He’s in the office talking to the manager. The professor is with him,” Tamara’s voice was breaking. She was trembling with fear.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” said Madame Sonya. “We can catch up with the others later.”
Josey pulled his jacket on and they went out into the falling snow. The lights were on in the office. Through the window, they could see Straker and von Holzing talking with the manager.
“This way,” said Madame Sonya. She pulled her cloak tightly about her and led them to the rear of the courtyard, into the woods, and they started up the slope.
The old groundskeeper came around the side of the office to the rear courtyard. The snow was still coming down and he began to brush the courtyard, working his way towards the edge of the property, sweeping away the footprints.
Straker, von Holzing and the motel manager came around the side of the office to the rear courtyard.
“He’s in 212. I’ve got the master key,” the manager babbled.
Straker drew his pistol. The three of them climbed the steps to the narrow porch and went to the door of 212. The manager put the key in the lock and turned it. Straker kicked the door in and entered, holding his pistol with both hands and sweeping the room.
He lowered his weapon. “They’re not here.”
Von Holzing had followed him in and saw the open suitcase on the floor and the personal effects on the dresser.
“They were just here. They can’t have gotten far.”
Hector was standing now in the open doorway.
“Who’s that?” growled Straker.
“No one,” said the motel manager. “Just the groundskeeper.”
“My good man,” said Professor von Holzing, “did you see which way they went?”
Before he could answer, Straker grabbed Hector by the arm and dragged him out to the courtyard. There were no footprints now but their own. Snow was still falling.
Straker shook the groundskeeper. “Which way did they go? You must have seen them!”
Hector said nothing. Straker threw him roughly to the ground but the old man touched down lightly, rolled, and regained his feet effortlessly.
Von Holzing had gone to the rear of the courtyard.
“Here, Yanosh. Over here!”
Straker walked to where von Holzing stood aiming his flashlight at the ground. Straker crouched and saw faint prints in the grass, half covered over by the fresh falling snow.
“They’ve gone into the woods,” said von Holzing.
“We’ve got them,” said Straker.
Von Holzing and Straker entered the dark woods, following the faint tracks with a flashlight beam. They started up the slope and soon came to a clearing surrounded by old, snow draped pines and firs. The trail of tracks ended here, covered now by the fresh falling snow.
The darkness was complete. Von Holzing swept his flashlight beam around the perimeter as Straker strained to see into the trees across the clearing,
“He’s here, Professor. I don’t see him. I feel him. I smell him. Stay out of the way and let me handle this.”
An owl screeched and a shadowy, feathered form swooped down and fluttered about their heads, scratching at them with its sharp talons. Straker, startled, took a wild shot. The owl screeched again and swooped up towards the tree tops.
A beautiful white-tailed doe leapt from behind a tree and bounded across the clearing. Von Holzing caught it in the flashlight beam. Straker crouched, swung the pistol up with both hands, aimed through the scope, and fired. The doe turned its head to look at them over its shoulder through large, dark eyes. A thin line of red appeared on its flank. The doe turned and bounded away from them again, but its legs buckled when it landed and the doe collapsed to the ground.
“Why did you shoot that deer, Yanosh?” the professor asked.
“It’s another form, Professor. Dog. Deer. Owl. Wolf. You grasp these things with your mind. I feel them with all my being. This deer is Upwyr. It’s one of them. I don’t know which.”
They ran to where the deer lay. A few drops of red stained the snow. Von Holzing knelt beside it and placed his hand on its chest,
“It’s not breathing, Yanosh. There’s no heartbeat. It’s dead.”
Overhead, an owl circled and screeched mournfully. Hector had followed them up from the courtyard and stood unseen in the shadows, watching.
Across the clearing, Josey stepped from behind a tree and faced them.
“It’s you!” hissed Straker.
“You’ve killed Tamara,” said Josey.
“It was an accident,” said Professor von Holzing. “We didn’t know. We didn’t mean to kill it.”
“You’re murderers,” whispered Josey.
“We just want to talk to you,” said von Holzing.
“You can’t reason with these animals,” said Straker. “There’s only one language they understand.”
Straker leveled his pistol and fired. Josey saw the silver bullet fly from the barrel and come spinning towards him. He leapt up, grabbed hold of a low branch, and swung himself up into a tree. The bullet smashed into the bark where he had just stood. Josey crouched on a thick limb over the clearing where Straker and von Holzing stood.
The yellow beam of von Holzing’s flashlight and the red beam of Straker’s target laser followed Josey’s form as it climbed up through the branches. Straker fired again, but Josey had disappeared.
Straker turned slowly, searching the dark tree tops, the red beam playing on the snow covered branches. He felt, rather than saw, Josey circling the clearing high in the thick pines. A clump of snow fell from a swaying branch and Straker moved in for the kill. Josey leapt higher and grabbed hold of a branch, but this one broke under his weight. He heard it crack and felt himself dropping down through the foliage.
Josey hit the ground with a thud at Straker’s feet.
“Hold it right there.”
The beam of Straker’s target laser was a red dot in the middle of Josey’s forehead. Josey stared down the barrel of Straker’s Colt at point blank range. The moment had come.
Straker felt an invisible tug on his pistol, pulling the barrel up away from Josey. Straker held the grip with both hands but the pistol had come to life and was yanking itself free. The Colt wiggled out of his grip, flew from his hands and landed in the snow across the clearing.
Straker lunged at Josey with his bare hands. Josey scrambled back but Straker had him by the ankle. Josey struggled and kicked desperately, and managed to shake Straker loose. Straker lunged again but something grabbed him and held him. He felt himself lifted up off the ground in the grip of some invisible force that hung him upside down in the air in the middle of the clearing. Josey leapt up into the low branches, swung silently away through the foliage and disappeared into the darkness.
“Von Holzing! Stop him!”
“But, Yanosh, what are you doing?”
“I’m not doing anything! Something’s got me!”
The professor took hold of Straker and tried to pull him down to the ground, but it was no use. Something held him fast, suspended in the air. Then, after a few moments, the force released him and Straker dropped head first into the snow.
Straker leapt to his feet. “Which way did he go?”
Copyright © 2008 by Bill Bowler
