by Ken Kreps
©2005, all rights reserved

To read more short stories and articles by author Ken Kreps, visit http://www.kenkreps.com.
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“What’ll it be, mister?”

“Man, It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that,” Jim replied.

“Heard what?”

“Someone coming up to my car at a service station and asking what’ll it be.  I’m used to pumping my own gas.”

“Well, you’d be doin’ that here if-in I could afford one of them new fangled pumps,” the attendant said.

“Yeah, I suppose so.  Uhh, fill it up.  Say, where exactly am I anyway?”

“Why mister, you’re in Talbot, Nevada,” the man replied as if everyone should know the answer to that question.  The gas pump hummed in the background as he filled the car.

Jim chuckled.  “Talbot?  Is that the name of the guy who started this burg?”

“Don’t rightly know.  We jest always called it that,” the attendant spat back.  He seemed angry at the question.

“Where’s the rest of the town?”

“You’re in it, mister.  There’s this place, Sam’s Café next door, and over there across the road, is our jail.  Ain’t nobody ever been in that jail that I can remember.”

“That’s it?” Jim asked.  “Man, some town.  How many people are brave enough to live in Talbot?”

“Ain’t never counted ‘em.”

“Well there can’t be many.  I don’t see any houses.”

“There’s lots of people live here,” the attendant said, smiling as if his answer was funny.

“OK.  Whatever you say,” Jim replied.  “Man, this joker’s about three bricks short of a load.  How do people live here, if you can call it living,” he thought.

Looking at the building the attendant had identified as the café, Jim noticed there was no name or identifying sign.

“Say, how’s the food over at….what did you call it…Sam’s?”  “Since I’m stopped, I might as well eat,”  he thought, realizing it had been quite a few hours since he had any food.

“Ain’t never ate there.”

“Well, I’m hungry.  I think I’ll give it a try.”

“Nope.”

A puzzled look crossed Jim’s face. “Nope?  What does that mean?”

“Closed.  It’s all closed up,” the attendant answered as he finished filling the tank.

“Why would it be closed?  It’s 7:30 in the evening. It’s dinnertime.”

“Sam don’t serve no dinner.”

“Just breakfast and lunch?” Jim asked.

“Nope.  Don’t serve no breakfast or no lunch either.”

“What the hell kind of restaurant is that?  Exactly when is it open?”

“Sometimes in the evening when they get hungry, he’ll open up,” the attendant answered with a shrug.

“The people you say live around here, are they the ones who get hungry?  Don’t even answer that,” Jim said.  “I’ve got to be going.  I’d like to make Reno by midnight.  What do I owe you?”

“Twenty-three dollars and 58 cents.”

“You take major credit cards?”

“Nope.  Don’t take no credit cards.  Just cash.”

“I knew I should have used the Interstate instead of this stupid shortcut,” Jim said, irritation now clearly showing in his voice  “I don’t know if I have that much cash.  Wait a minute.  Ahh… twenty, one, two, three and……75 cents.”

“I’ll get your change.”

“Forget it pal, I’m out of here,” Jim replied as he quickly started his car.

He flicked the shift into drive and sped away as his tires slipped on the gravel driveway.  Once on pavement again, he picked up speed rapidly.

“The only café I’ve seen in 100 miles and it’s closed for breakfast, lunch and dinner.  And it only opens at night when they get hungry?  Not a house in sight and he’s telling me there’s lots of people live there,” he thought.  “Man, what a fruitcake.  Where’s Rod Serling when you really need him?,” he chuckled.   Well, no matter, I’ve seen the last of that little burg and besides I…..”

Without warning a dark shape ran from the side of the road directly into the path of his car.  He jammed the brake-peddle to the floor but it was too late.  He felt the hard jolt and heard a sickening thump as his car hit something quite solid.

“My God, what the hell was that?  He just darted in front of the car.”

With the brake-peddle still jammed to the floor, the car screeched to a stop, the front end skidding slightly to the left.  With his heart pounding, Jim quickly opened the door and got out of the car.  He walked first to the front and then to the rear of the car.  There was a sizeable dent in the right front fender.  He peered into the brush by the side of the road.  Then, looking back at the road, he saw it.

“That looks like blood.  I did hit something.  It looked like …….I’d better report this.  He must be hurt.”

Quickly getting back into the automobile, he backed around on the road and sped back towards the small town.  Reaching the service station, he roared into the driveway, sending small pieces of gravel flying behind his car. He was out of the car as it slid to a stop. The attendant was sitting on a wooden chair with its back tilted against the front of the small station.

“Back already, huh.  Why you look white as a ghost, mister.”

“I hit a man just a few hundred feet down the road.  At least I think it was a man.  Maybe it was a deer.”

“We ain’t got no deer around here this time of year.”

“Look, I need to call the closest law official.  You got a sheriff in this town?”

The attendant stood up from his chair looking puzzled, thought for a second and then said, ”A sheriff?  No, we ain’t got no sheriff.  This here’s a real peace lovin’ town.”

“Yeah, I imagine it is.  Where’s the closest town that’s got any law?”

“That’d be Silverton.”

How far is that?” Jim asked.

“‘Bout 50 miles on the same road you were on, goin’ towards Reno.”

“OK, I’ll use my cell phone.”

Jim took a small phone from his pocket, flipped it open and punched in 911.  The phone beeped twice.

“Oh great, no signal.  I’ll need to borrow your phone,” Jim said.

“Don’t got no phone.”

“Where’s the closest one?” Jim asked, a hint of panic creeping into his voice.

“Silverton,” came the reply.

Jim looked at the attendant with utter disbelief.  “There’s no phone in this town?”

“We don’t need no phones.”

“What if someone gets sick?”

“We tend to our own.”

“OK.  Look, can you and some of the townspeople help me look for whomever I hit?  I think he’s hurt and I’m sure he needs help.”

“Well, some of the town folk are over at Sam’s.  I cain’t leave the station.  Why don’t you go over and ask ‘em yourself?”

“What?  Sam’s?  A few minutes ago you said he was closed.”

“He jest opened up.”

“What kind of town is this,” Jim thought?  All right,” he said.  “You think they’ll help?”

“Cain’t say.  You’ll have to ask ‘em, for yourself.”

Jim couldn’t help but think that the service station attendant looked pretty disinterested considering what he had just told him.

“All right, I guess I’d better,” Jim said as he quickly turned and started for the café next door.  “Looks like a lot of people inside,” he thought.  “How could they be closed just a few minutes ago and full of people now?”

He walked up the crooked, wooden front steps and opened the door.  The room was full of men, all trying to talk at once, and a strange odor, he couldn’t quite place, filled the room.

A large man near the door turned and looked at him.  He was dressed in dirty jeans, a wool shirt, a dirty denim jacket that had seen better days, and black work boots. A scraggly dark gray beard covered his face.  To Jim he looked like the prototype tough guy right out of central casting.

“Sorry, mister, this here’s what you might call a private dinner,” the man said.  His tone was curt and unfriendly.

“Relax,” Jim offered. “ I’m not here to eat.  I need some help.”

Like the service station attendant, the man had a look of disinterest as he said, “That so?  What kind of help?”

“Well, I hit a man with my car just west of town and….”

As if some giant master switch had been thrown, the room became immediately silent before Jim could finish his sentence.

“And….and I need some help finding him.  I think he may be hurt,” he continued.

“Maybe it was a deer,” The man said slowly.

“The man at the service station next door said there aren’t any deer around here this time of year.”

A faint smile crossed the bearded man’s face.  “Arlie ain’t quite right in the head.  He don’t know.”

“No, I don’t think it was a deer,” Jim said.  “It was running on two legs.  Ran right in front of my car.”

“What’s your name, mister?”

Clearly annoyed at the man’s seeming lack of urgency, Jim blurted, “Look, there’s blood in the road.  I think we need to find this man as soon as possible.”

“I asked your name, mister.”

“Uhh, Jim.  Jim Gordon.”

“What brings you around here, Mr. Gordon?”

By now, Jim could no longer hide his irritation.  “Don’t you understand what I just said?  The man needs help.”

“Most people use the Interstate,” the scraggly man replied.  “We don’t get many people comin’ through Talbot so when we do, we sorta wonder why.”

“I’m on my way to Reno to scout a movie location.  I’m a Production Assistant with Global-United Pictures in LA.  On the map this road looked shorter.  Now can we go look for that poor fellow, mister, ahh….”

“Most folks just call me Sam.”

“I should have known.  Look, that man needs our help.”

“Not any more he don’t,” Sam said.

“What do you mean?”

“We heard the brakes screechin’ and I went to see what was goin’ on.  Just got back.”

“You find him?” Jim asked.

“Yep.”

“Thank God.  How is he?”

“He’s dead Mr. Gordon.  You killed him.”

 “Dead?  No, that can’t be,” Jim protested.  “He ran away after I hit him.”

Sam moved closer until his face was only inches from Jim’s.  “So you admittin’ you hit him?”

“Well, yes, but like I said he ran in front of my car.  There was nothing I could do.”

“He’s dead all right,” Sam challenged.

Jim’s body slumped as the full realization of what Sam had just said began to sink in.
“Oh my God.”

Sam clamped his hand hard on Jim’s shoulder and as Jim looked even more confused, he said, “And I’m arrestin’ you for his murder.”

“Murder?  Now wait a minute.  It was an accident.  You can’t……..”

Sam turned to the ten or so men sitting around the café.  “Grab him boys.”

Two of the larger men quickly surrounded Jim and pinned his arms to his side.

“What’s wrong with all of you?” Jim pleaded.  “It was an accident.  God, I didn’t want to kill anyone.  It was an accident I tell you.”

As Jim stood helpless between the two men, Sam approached and stuck his beefy finger in the middle of his chest.

“That’s not the way he told it.  Before he died he said you swerved to the other side of the road where he was standin’ just so you could hit him with your car.”

“That’s a lie and….wait a minute.  You’re not the sheriff.  Arlie said this town doesn’t have
a sheriff.  Or was he wrong about that too?”

“We ain’t got no regular sheriff, but when sheriffin’ needs to be done, I’m the one that does it.,” Sam said defiantly.

“This is crazy.  You can’t hold me,” Jim protested.

“We can hold you until tomorrow mornin’.”

“Tomorrow morning?  What’s that, some kind of inquest?”

“I don’t know nothin’ about no inquest,” Sam snarled.  “Tomorrow mornin’ we gonna try you for murder.”

The sun had been up about an hour.  Jim, looking tired and haggard sat on the edge of the bed in his cell.  A tray of eggs, bacon and toast sat untouched on a small table in the corner.   Heavy footsteps could be heard coming down the hall.  As Jim looked up he saw Sam appear on the other side of the bars.

“Well, I see they brought you some breakfast, but don’t look like you hardly touched it.  What’s wrong….lose your appetite?” Sam said, not trying to hide the sneer on his face.

“I’m not hungry,” Jim spat.  “Now look, you can’t throw me in jail like this.  This is
just plain wrong.”

“Mister, ain’t nothin’ in this town wrong unless I say so.  You’d better learn that.”

“Is that so.”

“It sure is.  I’m the head man in these parts.”

“You were elected mayor, too?”

“We don’t have no elections.  We got ourselves a different way of pickin’ leaders.   Now you better get your coat on.  We’ll be takin’ you over to your trial in five minutes.”

“Trial?  That’s ridiculous.  I didn’t kill anyone and I haven’t even seen a lawyer or have you done away with that part of the justice system, too?”

Sam looked amused as he said, “Course not.  You got yourself a lawyer.  That’s her comin’ down the hall now.”

Soft footsteps echoed in the hall and soon a young girl, perhaps in her early twenties appeared on the other side of the bars. She was dressed in jeans, hiking boots and a heavy jacket. She hardly fit the description of what Jim thought a lawyer might look like.
 
“He’s all yours, Ellie.  I’ll be back to get him in five minutes,” Sam said as he left.

“Who are you?” Jim asked.

“I’m uhh….I’m Ellie.”

“And you’re a lawyer?”

She looked down at the floor before saying, “I’ve read a lot of books about law.”

“That’s it?  Just books?  Have you been to school to study law?”

“Nobody here goes to a regular school,” she said, still looking at the floor.  “Sometimes the elders teach us.”

“Elders,” Jim asked?  “What is this, some sort of religious clan?  Is that why you call
them elders?”

“No, we..uhh..we call them elders because they’re older and wiser than us.”

Jim was having trouble understanding exactly who this girl was as he said, “You seem pretty nervous for someone who’s about to defend me in court.”

Finally lifting her gaze to meet Jim’s, she said, “Sorry, It’s the first time I’ve ever done this.  I’ve just been reading on it ‘till now.”

“What?   You’ve never argued a trial before?”

“We ain’t never had a trial before.  You’re the first outsider that’s ever done more than buy some gas and drive on through.”

“Let me make myself very clear.  I didn’t murder that man.  He ran right in front of my car.”

“I know,” she said softly.

“You know?  Well for God’s sakes, tell Sam and the rest I’m innocent.”

“They know, too.  Won’t do any good to tell them,” she answered.

This was more than Jim could take.  He rushed to the front of the cell, grasped a steel bar in each hand and shouted, “They know?  What the hell do you mean they know?  If they know, why am I locked up in this flea trap of a jail?”

“You’re a stranger,” she said calmly, as if that was an extremely logical answer to his question.

Jim forced himself to calm down a bit before saying, “Elllie, being a stranger isn’t a crime.”

“It is around here.  Sam told us this day would come.”

“What do you mean?”

“He said some day a stranger would do more than just pass through and
we would have to protect ourselves.”

By now Jim was totally lost.  “Protect yourselves from what?”

“Outsiders,” Ellie answered.

 “You’re not making any sense at all, but time is short.  What kind of a defense do you have planned?  What do you plan to say in court?” Jim asked.”

“It don’t matter what I say.  They’re gonna kill you tomorrow at sun-up,” Ellie answered with a sense of finality and sadness in her voice.

”Kill me?  What kind of town is this?  This was all pre-arranged?  Sam knew all along he was going to have me killed didn’t he?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, there ain’t nothin’ I can do.”

Horrified, Jim said, “You know they’re going to kill me and you’re just going to stand by and let it happen?”

Again, looking sad she said, “I’m sorry.  If I try to stop it they’ll kill me too.”

“I don’t believe this.  What kind of animals live in this town?”

Just as Jim said that, heavy footsteps came down the hall and Sam’s bearded face soon appeared on the other side of the cell bars.

“OK Mister, it’s time to go.  You’re gonna get your day in court,” he said with a wide grin splashed across his face.

It was no surprise to Jim that the town had no courthouse.  Instead, he found himself back in Sam’s Café.  The tables had been stored away and rows of chairs faced the back of the cafe where a large desk sat, unoccupied. A chair, facing the crowd, sat next to the desk.  There was a table at which Sam and Ellie sat, but to Jim’s surprise, there was no prosecution table.  Every chair in the café/courtroom was occupied and fifteen or twenty more people stood behind the seats.  A door in the rear of the café opened and Sam entered, walked to the desk and quickly sat down.  He rapped a gavel sharply on the desk several times and all conversation in the room stopped.

“All right, everybody, settle down.  I’m declarin’ this court in session,” Sam said.

Jim couldn’t help himself as he rose and blurted out, “My God, you’re the judge too?”

Sam glared at Jim with narrowed eyes.  “Sit down Mr. Gordon.  Like I said, let’s begin.  I’ll prosecute and Ellie, will defend.”

“Wait just a minute.  You can’t be the judge and the prosecutor, too,” Jim said as he turned toward Ellie.  “Ellie, for God’s sake, say something.  Object!”

“Sit down, Gordon,” Sam shouted.

Remaining on his feet, Jim glared back at Sam.  “This isn’t even a courtroom.  It’s a cafe.  This whole thing is a sham just so you can murder me, isn’t it Sam?”

“When I’m sittin’ up here in front, this is a courtroom and you’ll call me Your Honor.  You’ll be gittin’ a fair trial all right.  Now sit down or I’ll have you taken back to the jail.”

Hesitating, Ellie rose to her feet.  “Uhh, Sam I’m not sure you can be both the judge and the…”
 
“Overruled, Ellie,” Sam said, interrupting her.  “Now sit down while I present my case.  Last night just a few hundred feet out of town, this fellow Gordon, deliberately swerved his car so as to strike Jake Thornton.  Poor Jake staggered into the bushes and died right after I found him.  Just before he died he told me your car deliberately changed direction so it could hit him.”

Jim leaned over and whispered to Ellie, “My God, he’s his own witness, too.  He’s lying, Ellie.  I’m telling you the man ran right out in front of my car.  Object or do something.  For God’s sake, don’t just sit there.”

Raising his voice Jim turned back toward Sam as he said, “Sam….ah Your Honor….it’s just your word against mine.  You don’t have any witnesses to verify what you say.  You don’t have any proof.”

“That’s where you’d be wrong, Mr. Gordon.  I got me the best witness I could possibly have.”

Jim looked puzzled.  “I thought you said you went out there alone after you heard the screech of the brakes on my car.”

“That’s right and I found Jake dyin’ in some bushes by the side of the road.”

“Then how can you possibly have any witnesses?” Jim asked.

“Like I said, I got the best witness I could ever have.  I got the man you murdered.  I got Jake Thornton, himself, to tell us what happened.”

Jim again rose to his feet.  “This trial is a joke.  Why don’t you…”

“Sit down Mr. Gordon.  I ain’t gonna tell you again.”

“Sit down,” Ellie whispered.  “Don’t get him riled.”

“Getting him riled seems like the least of my worries,” Jim thought

“Come on up here, Jake,” Sam said, with a much kinder voice than Jim had heard him use before.

A slender man near the back of the room stood up and approached Sam’s desk.  He walked with a slight limp.

Pointing to the chair next to his desk, Sam said, “Now Jake, you sit down right here.  I got a few questions for you.”

Jake looked at Sam and then hesitated before sitting down.

“How you feelin’, Jake?”

“Uhh, OK….I’m OK,” Jake answered softly.

“You still feelin’ a little sore and tender?”

“Yeah, but….but I’m doin’ OK.”

“Jake, did the car Mr. Gordon was drivin’ strike you on the side of the highway last night just out of town?”

“Yes….yes it surely did.”

“And you were injured pretty badly weren’t you Jake?”

“Yeah, Sam.”

“What happened next?”

“Well, I crawled back into some thick bushes and, well you know… I died.”

“For God’s sake Ellie, object or do something,” Jim whispered to Ellie.  “The man’s not dead.  He’s sitting right there.”

“Hush, Mr. Gordon,” Ellie cautioned.

“How long did you stay dead, Jake?” Sam asked.

“Until early this morning.”

“All right, Jake, you can go.”

Remaining seated, Jim said, “Sam, ahh Your Honor, this is ridiculous.  This man’s not dead and the man I hit was in the middle of the road, not on the side.”

“Quiet Mr. Gordon and stand up.  I’m ready to make my rulin’.”

“Ruling?  What ruling?  We haven’t even had a chance to offer a defense and then you tell me the man my car hit….a dead man… is your chief witness.  Like I said, this is a joke.”

Ellie rose from her chair and tugged on Jim’s sleeve until he did the same.

Sam smiled and then paused a moment before saying, “Well, let’s see how funny you think this is, Mr. Gordon.  This here court finds you guilty of murder.  As punishment, you will be hanged come sun-up tomorrow.  This trial is over.”

The crowd murmured before Sam silenced them with several sharp raps of his gavel.

Looking as white as a sheet, Jim asked, “Ellie, don’t you have anything to say?”

Eliie turned toward Jim and quietly said, “Tonight, be ready, tonight.”  Then she hurried quickly out the front door of the café.

The last rays of sunlight had just slipped over the horizon when Jim heard two pair of footsteps treading lightly down the hall.  He soon saw Ellie and Jake standing outside his cell.  Ellie looked nervous while Jake avoided Jim’s gaze and looked, instead, at the floor.

“Well, you two again,” Jim muttered.  “And what are you doing here, Jake?  Haven’t you done enough with your lies?”

With a look of intense purpose, Ellie said, “Listen to us very carefully.  We’re here to save your life.”

“Save my life?  Jake’s the main reason they’re going to hang me.  Why did you lie?”

“He didn’t lie,” Ellie replied.  “You did kill him.  I know it was an accident and you didn’t mean to, but you did kill him.”

Jim had the same look of disbelief on his face that he’d worn through most of the trial.  “Oh, get real, Ellie.  The man is standing right next to you.”

Ellie hesitated for just a moment before saying, “Just before they took you to the trial, you asked me what kind of animals lived in this town.  You were closer to the truth than you knew.”

“What are you talking about?”

Looking up from the floor, Jake said, “What she’s tryin’ to tell you, mister is that we ain’t people.”

“What do you mean, not people?”

“We’re werewolves,” Ellie replied.

Jim looked as shocked as he would, had he seen the dead arise from their graves. “Werewolves?  Of course you are and I’m the tooth fairy.  What kind of moron do you take me for?”

“We were born werewolves,” Ellie said  “All of us.  This town’s been the home to our clan for over 150 years.  That’s why Sam wants to kill you.  To protect the secret of what we are.  His biggest fear is someone will find out.”

Jim still was not buying any of this.  “So you want me to believe the whole town is full of murdering werewolves?”

Jim was surprised to see a look of defiance on Jake’s face.  “Not all of us are murderers, mister.”

“He’s right,” Ellie added.  “Sam and some of the others think nothing about killing people for food and sport.  But many of us feel that’s wrong and we want no part of it.  There’s been a fight brewing over this for years and tonight is the night it’s finally going to happen.”

“What do you mean, happen?”

“We’re going to stand up to Sam and his crowd,” Ellie answered.

“Fight them?” Jim asked.

“Seeing what was happening to you at your trial,” Ellie continued.  “I decided it’s the only way, and the others agree with me.  But before that happens, we have to get you out of town.  That’s why we waited until after dark to come and see you.  Everything should be ready in a few minutes.”

“And you expect me to believe Jake was really dead?”

“It’s true.  I was out lookin’ for jackrabbits and weren’t payin’ no mind to where I was.  I must have run right onto the highway.  I didn’t see or hear nothin’ until your car hit me.  My mind was on them rabbits.”

“Look I’m very sorry I hit you, but you couldn’t have died and be standing here now,” Jim said, shaking his head.

Jake started to answer, but Ellie cut him off.  “When we die. Mr. Gordon, it’s not like when you die.  Unless our body has been torn apart, most of the time we can come back to life within 10 or 12 hours.  It’s a gift we have.  It’s something in our blood that causes it to happen.  Only way we can be killed for good is to be bitten by another werewolf.”

“When I stopped for gas, there weren’t any people or houses in sight, yet the café was full of people for my trial.  I don’t understand.”

“Most of us live in the caves just north of town.  It’s our way.  We feel comfortable there,” Ellie answered.

“You say Sam and some of the others kill people for food, but you don’t?”

With emphasis Jake quickly shot back, “No sir!!”

“We think that’s disgusting,” Ellie explained.  “Many of us raise cattle, chickens and vegetables and eat just like people do, but Sam and some others want to preserve the old ways, as they call them.”

A look of understanding mixed with horror flashed suddenly across Jim’s face.  “My God.  It just hit me.  Sam’s Café is…”

“Where they eat what they kill,” Ellie interrupted.  “They were there last night while you were getting gas, but they turned the lights off so you wouldn’t see them.”

"And that strange odor I smelled was....."

Their latest victim," she said. "Some poor hiker they hunted down that afternoon."

"Oh my God."  Jim hesitated, as if fighting to find the proper words before asking, "What do they do with the bodies?  Bury them?"

"Ain't no need for that.  When Sam and his bunch get through with a person, there ain't no body left to find," Jake replied.

“I still don't understand," Jim said.  "None of you look like werewolves."

“It only happens when we get real mad or excited,” Ellie replied.  “ Then we revert to our natural state.  Our teeth turn into fangs, hair covers our bodies and we run on all fours.  I don’t like it when it happens to me, but it happens to all of us once in awhile.  It’s what we are.”

“Why does Jake keep looking out the window?”

Ellie also looked out the jail window briefly before answering.  “We told some of the others to push your car out behind the jail.  I got the keys for your car and the cell from the desk out front.  Sam thinks we’re here to see if there was anyone you might have told you were coming here.  He trusts me because I’ve let him believe I’m about ready to join him on some of his human killing hunts.”

“Jake, why did you testify against me and lie about being on the side of the road?”

“I was afraid of what Sam would do to me if I didn’t.  He can be real mean.”

“He had no choice,” Ellie added.

Jake again looked out the window.  “They’re here with the car.”

Ellie pulled a large key out of her pocket and unlocked the cell door.  It made a slight creaking noise as it opened.  Hearing that, Jake looked fearfully down the hall towards the office in the front of the jail.  He knew Sam wasn’t there, but just the same, he was nervous.    Ellie then handed Jim the keys to his car.

“Your car is just outside the door at the end of the hall.  Get in it and drive away from here as fast as you can.  You’ll have less than a minute to leave.  Sam and the others are sure to hear the car starting and they’ll come running.”

Jim hesitated.  “I…I can’t help wondering if you and Jake will be all right.  You’re risking a lot to help me get away.”

“Thanks, but this fight has been brewing for years,” Ellie said as she pushed Jim towards the outside door.  “You’re coming here was what we needed to try and change what some of us have become.”

Jim hurried to the door and opened it.  Cool air rushed down the hall.  Just before leaving he turned and uttered the only two words he could think of.  “Thank you.”

Jim sprinted the few yards to the car, threw himself behind the wheel and quickly turned the key into the ignition.  “Thank God,” he thought as the car’s engine roared to life.  He moved the gear selector to drive and pushed the accelerator to the floor.   It took a second for the car’s tires to take hold on the gravel lot behind the jail.  Then the car suddenly lurched forward, fish tailing just a bit as Jim steered it around the jail, towards the highway some thirty yards away.  At almost the same instant, across the highway, the door to Sam’s café flew open and Sam and several of his men rushed out towards Jim.  They were within five or ten yards of the car when it skidded sideways onto the blacktop road.  Fighting the steering wheel, he regained control and as he sped away, he heard the fading, angry cries and curses of Sam’s men as they could do nothing but watch him disappear into the night.  As the voices of the men grew faint, Jim could swear that, just for an instant, he heard the sound of several wolves howling.

Ben Torrance had the look of a patient man.  He’d been the sheriff of Silverton, Nevada for a number of years and nothing much ruffled his feathers.  He was 55 years old and he thought he’d seen and heard it all.  That is, until Jim Gordon ran breathlessly into his office some fifteen minutes ago.  Sitting behind his large oak desk, he interlaced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his chair.

“Whew!!  That’s some story Mr….What did you say your name was, again?”

“Jim…Jim Gordon.”

“Jim, I’ve been the sheriff here in Silverton for the past seventeen years and I’ve heard some wild stories in my time, but nothin’, and I mean nothin’, comes close to bein’ as wild as what you just told me.  At first I thought you were drunk or on some kind of drug, but I can see you’re sober and you don’t act like you’ve been takin’ any drugs.”

“I know it’s hard to believe, sheriff, but so help me, it’s all true.”

“Son, put yourself in my position.  You come roarin’ down the main street of town, slam on your brakes in front of my office, run in here all wild eyed and start tellin’ me how you’ve been held captive over in Talbot by some kind of werewolves.  Now you gotta admit, that’s a pretty wild story.”

“I suppose it is, Sheriff, but…”

“And then you expect me to believe everybody in that little town is one of these werewolves you keep talkin’ about.”

More composed than when he ran into the sheriff’s office, Jim said, “Ellie, the girl I told you about, said Sam and some of the others often went on hunts.  She said they killed a hiker just yesterday afternoon.  You had any reports of missing persons around here?”

Well, sure, but this is pretty desolate country,” the sheriff answered.  Nothing much but high desert, scrub brush, mountains and canyons around here.  We get people pokin’ around the countryside and, for one reason or another, some of them do disappear once in a while.  Probably fall in a ravine, get on the wrong side of a cougar, get snake bit.  Hell, there’s all sorts of reasons they could be missin’.”

“And you find the body of every person who’s reported missing?” Jim asked.

“No.  This is a big county with thousands of square miles of open land.  We look, but, no, we don’t ever find some of ‘em.”

“How about Talbot?  You get over there much?”

“No need to.  It ain’t much more than a wide place in the road.  Nothin’ ever happens there.  I don’t remember a trouble call involvin’ anyone from there since I’ve been sheriff.  Son, there hasn’t been a problem in Talbot in over seventeen years.”

“The café I told you about….Sam’s.  You remember seeing that?”

A knowing and almost fatherly look came over the sheriff’s face as he said, “Sure, but that old café has been closed for years.  Look, I know you believe somethin’ weird’s goin’ on, but you’ve given me no call to go over there and start stirrin’ up the few people in Talbot.  You were headin’ for Reno, you say?”

Jim didn’t see the connection but nodded his head.

“Well,” the sheriff said, “I suggest you do just that.  Check into one of them fancy hotels, have yourself a good meal and a couple of drinks and forget all about this.  You do that and I’ll let slide that you broke every speed law we got, roarin’ through town on your way here.  That’s the best offer I can make.”

Jim’s disappointment was obvious.  “You mean you’re not going to do anything about what I’ve told you?”

“I’ve told you what I’m…”

The sheriff was cut short by the ringing of the telephone on his desk.

“Hold on a minute,” he said as he picked up the phone.

“Sheriff Torrance……….Oh hello Captain Rivers.  What can I do for you?”

He listened to the voice on the other end of the phone for a moment and then said, “Did you say Talbot?  No, I haven’t been over there in some time.”

As he listened, a look of absolute amazement began to creep onto his face.  “Is that right?  How long ago?……….I see……….No, hasn’t been any trouble there as long as I can remember……….Nobody, huh……….And that’s all you found?……….You want me to come over or send a deputy to have a look?……….All right, we’ll stay put. But you let us know if we can help……….OK, thanks, for lettin’ me know.”

Sheriff Torrance was slow to hang up the phone.  There was a distant look in his eyes as if his mind was occupied somewhere else completely.

“Did I hear you say, Talbot?” Jim asked.

As if suddenly jerked back to reality, the sheriff looked back at Jim.  “What…yes, that was Captain Rivers of the Highway Patrol.  He…he said a passing motorist reported some sort of ruckus around Talbot.  He sent one of his patrol cars to check it out and he just told me what they found.  It don’t make no sense at all.”

“What did they find?”

“Lots of blood all around town and….and….”

“Yes, what?”, Jim pressed him insistently.

“Well, he said they found what looked like pieces of animal fur all over the ground.”

“Animal fur?”

“Yeah…..no people, no wounded, no bodies, just blood and animal fur.  The patrolman said the fur looked like it had been ripped right off an animal.  Uhh, several animals he said, because there was so much of it.  Two of the buildings in town were tore up something’ fierce…broken glass and doors ripped clean off their hinges.  And that old café you mentioned…well it was burned right down to the ground.  Captain Rivers said he send a couple more cars there, but it looks like it’s all over.”

Jim nodded.  “Ellie was right.  They finally had it out.  Did he say anything else?”

The sheriff leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment, as if whether or not to answer Jim’s last question.

“Just that the first patrolman on the scene thought he heard something way off in the distance,” he finally answered.

“Heard what?”

“Well...uhh...well, he said it sounded like wolves fightin’…..Son, after that wild story you told me, I thought you were just confused or maybe a little crazy, but now with this, I don’t know what to think.”

“I do,” Jim said.  “I think I know exactly what happened in Talbot tonight.  It’s sad, but I guess it had to happen.  Ellie told me things couldn’t go on the way they were.”

“Well, son, whatever it was, you should be glad you weren’t there.”

“I am, Sheriff, very glad.”

Then it was Jim’s turn to pause and think before finally saying,   “You know you gave me some good advice and I’m going to take it.”

“How’s that?” the sheriff asked.

“What you said about Reno, a good meal and a couple of stiff drinks.  That’s what I need, but I do have one more question for you.”

“Oh?” the sheriff said, looking puzzled.

“What’s the quickest way to get over to the Interstate?”

Looking relieved that Jim didn’t have more questions about Captain River’s phone call, the sheriff smiled and said, “Well, go on through town and turn left at the second stoplight.  Stay on that road for about 25 miles and that’ll run you right into the Interstate to Reno.”

Jim pushed back his chair, stood up, and extended his hand towards the sheriff.

“Thanks, Sheriff, I’m on my way,” he said, pumping the sheriff’s hand.

 “You know, the sun’s startin’ to come up.  It’ll be a lot prettier drive to Reno if you just stay on the road you came in on.  Nice drive through the mountains.  Take you a bit longer but it’s mighty pretty this time of day. The Interstate is real dull….not much to look at.”

 “No, I think I’ll stick with the Interstate,” Jim said, as he turned and walked towards the door.  “Right now, dull sounds like exactly what I need.”

With a wave of his hand, Jim walked out of the sheriff's office, and was soon behind the wheel of his car headed out of town.  The sheriff watched him drive down the street for a few moments before quickly returning to his desk, where he immediately dialed a number on his phone. The phone rang only once before being answered.

"He didn't take to my suggestion to use the mountain road to Reno, so that means you've got just twenty five miles ro stop him before he gets to the Interstate," the sheriff said.

"Why didn't you take care of him?" the voice on the phone asked.

"Are you crazy?" the sheriff barked back.  "Right here in the middle of town?  I couldn't take that chance, but he's heard and seen too much to be left alive. Now you stop him or we're all in big trouble."

"You think he suspects you?"

"No, not a chance.  He thinks I'm just an old country sheriff with a sympathetic ear. When Rivers called, Gordon was sittin' right here so I had to tell him what Rivers said. I figured he'd never get to tell anyone about it.  Am I right?"

"Relax," the voice answered.  "He'll never get to Reno and no one will ever see him again."

The sheriff hung up the phone and settled back in his chair, feeling better than he had since he first heard about the trouble in Talbot.

"I knew that group in Talbot would be bad news for us one day," he thought.  "Wantin' to break away from the old ways like they did.  Well, once we take care of that Gordon fellow, we should be OK."

At the same time the sheriff was relaxing in the chair behind his desk, Jim stopped at the second light with his left turn signal on, waiting for the light to turn green.  He hesitated for a moment, his hand moving just above the turn signal lever.

"What the hell," he thought.  "Maybe a relaxing drive through the mountains would be a nice change after what I've been through.  That's starting to sound pretty good."

Jim switched the turn signal off.  The light turned green, and instead of turning left, Jim went straight ahead towards the mountain road to Reno. He had no way of knowing, but that one simple decision meant he would live to see another day.

©2005 by Ken Kreps. This work of fiction may not be re-published in electronic or print media without the express written permission of the author. All rights reserved.

Click Here to read more short stories by Ken Kreps.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ken Kreps lives in the Pacific Northwest with his wife.  He has written a number of published articles, essays and short stories, as well as numerous consumer and business pieces.  Ken has also written scripts for Imagination Theater, an award winning audio drama series heard on over 150 commercial radio stations across the nation, as well as in several foreign countries.   He recently completed three short film screenplays.   For the past ten years, Ken has concentrated on acting, studying in the Seattle, Washington and Dallas, Texas areas, and apperaring in independent short, and feature films, television commercials, and various types of voice-over work.

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