Wolves Among Us

              A black Lincoln Navigator meandered it's way around another dangerous corner of a mountain road.  It was dark and raining, which made it just that much more of a bad idea to be out driving around, especially on a stretch of pavement like this.  But Richard Hughes had no choice.  He promised his 8 year old daughter Jade that he would be home for her dance recital on saturday morning.  It was now 11:30 pm on friday night and he was lost. 
         His GPS navigation system had told him that this old winding road was the quickest way back home, but Richard had a sneaking suspicion that if he had stayed on the interstate he would be far ahead of where he was now, and it would be more familiar and less dangerous.  He was really getting creeped out by the woods, and he had heard wolves howling in the distance and even saw a very large black one on the side of the road about 3 miles back.
         His high beams illuminated something up the road.  It was hard for him to immediately make a judgment on what it was, so he slowly pressed the brake in anticipation of a deer or maybe another wolf jumping out into the road.  As he crept up on the object he was able to make out the shadowy outline of... of a car!  Someone could be in trouble, he thought, and just as he did he saw a human figure walk out from the front bumper of the car, where the hood was open.
         Richard slammed on the brakes, and even though he couldn't have been going more than 30 miles an hour he skidded and slid to a stop about a hundred feet passed the broken down car and it's driver.  He backed up and in his passenger side mirror he saw a woman running up to his window.  He rolled the window down and the woman, about 30 years old, dark hair, very pretty, stuck her head in. 
         "Oh my God, thank you so much for stopping, I thought I was dead for sure!"  The woman's clothes were soaked, sticking to her skin in an oddly sexy way, Richard thought. 
         "What happened? Are you OK?  Is anyone hurt?"  Richard paused, giving her a chance to answer his string of questions. 
         "My car just broke down and I'm alone," she said.  "Can you see if you can fix it, I don't know what to do, I'm so scared."
         Richard didn't know anything about fixing cars.  He even paid to have his oil changed.  But you can't say no to a woman like this, he thought.  Christ, she was beautiful. 
         "Yeah, I'll take a look."  He found himself saying, knowing full well he'd have no idea what to do, but at least he could drive her to the next town so she could get a mechanic's help tomorrow morning. 
         Richard jumped down from his Navigator and met the young woman at the front of her car.  It was an old light brown Honda Accord, the hood was open and both Richard and the woman stood in the pouring rain staring blankly at the inner workings of the machine. 
         "It just stalled and now it won't start."  The woman said. 
         Richard moved in and started jiggling hoses around and tapping on metal pieces.  He hoped it wasn't obvious he didn't know what he was doing, but he was pretty sure it was. 
         "OK, try and start it."  He said. 
         The woman opened up her driver side door, leaned in, and turned the key.  The motor didn't even turn over. 
         "Huh."  Richard said.  "Well, I don't know what could be wrong, it's kind of dark out here to be screwing around with this anyway.  How about you ride with me to the next town, you can get help tomorrow morning."
         "Yeah, OK, that is probably the best thing to do."  The woman answered.  She was still leaning inside her car.  It looked like she was fishing for something under the passenger seat.  Maybe her purse, Richard thought.  But he didn't think too much about it, because the woman's gorgeous ass was sticking out of the driver's side door.  She was wearing tight black pants, and either a thong or nothing at all underneath.  There was a tattoo on her lower back, maybe a butterfly, but Richard couldn't tell for sure.  He moved around behind her to get a better look.  Just as he did the woman quickly jumped back out of the car, turned around and buried a hatchet right in Richard's forehead.  He instantly hit the wet pavement with a thud.  Dead.
         The dark haired woman grabbed the small axe handle and wiggled it back and forth forcefully until the blade dislodged itself from Richard's face.  She then stepped on Richard's head, raised the hatchet over her own head, and with a grunt swung it down into Richard's neck, right under the chin.  Blood splattered onto her pretty face.  She licked her lips and smiled.






         Alex Hidell had left his isolated cabin in the woods four hours ago and he still hadn't found a victim.  He had been driving up and down these twisting mountain roads for the better part of the night.  It had been almost three weeks since he had achieved a kill.  Well, at least a human kill.  Alex had been murdering raccoons, rabbits and the like for the past few weeks, just to keep Jesus sedated and comfortable.
         Yes, tonight a mere rodent would not do, he must have human suffering.
         He was beginning to feel distraught though.  It was almost morning and he had not found anyone yet.  Then, he saw it.  Something ahead.  He saw someone with a flashlight looking under the front driver's side door of a car.  A flat tire.  He smiled.  It was one of his old traps.  He had laid down a nail strip at least a month ago, and this was the first catch it had netted.  This was a gift from God, he thought. 
         "Thank you Jesus, for bringing me this generous gift tonight.  I will not disappoint you my Lord.  To do your bidding is my pleasure.  Amen."  Alex said the words quietly under his breath as he slowed, and then stopped behind the broken down car.
         It was a woman.
         Yes, a woman.  Thank you Lord, he thought as he opened his car door and stepped out into the night.
         "Can I help you ma'am?"  Alex said.
         The woman turned around.  "Oh thank God you stopped," she said.
         Yes, thank God indeed, Alex thought.
         "I have a flat tire, and I don't have a spare," she continued, "I'm so scared, I don't know what to do."
         The woman was pretty Alex thought.  She had dark hair, which looked even darker wet from the rain.  As she crouched down to inspect the damaged tire again her tight black pants rode down a little too low, and he caught a glimpse of the top of her very nice butt.  As his eyes moved up a little more onto her back he saw that she had a tattoo,  as so many girls had these days, it might have been a butterfly, but the woman promptly stood up and her shirt fell back into place covering the tattoo.
         "I have a spare in the back of my truck," Alex said nodding his head toward his old Chevy, "but it won't fit on your Honda's smaller wheels.  I could give you a ride into town, it's only about ten or twelve miles up the road.  Plus you need to get out of the rain young lady, you'll catch your death."
         Alex was 42 years old and built like an ox and this girl was probably in her late twenties or early thirties at most and she didn't look like she could hurt a chipmunk.  That's the way Alex liked it, he liked to be bigger, stronger, and in control right from the get go with his victims.  That's why he picked up hitchhikers and broken down vacationers, they were the most vulnerable, and they would do anything he said to get his help.  And he would help her.  It won't be the kind of help she is looking for, but it was the kind of help she needed.  He would help her indeed.  He must help her before she committed more sins, such as defacing her God-given body with more tattoos.  Jesus might be able to forgive her for that, she will have to ask him when she meets him.  I must help her before it's too late, Alex thought.
         "Yeah, I guess that's all I can do.  Again, thank you for stopping.  Let me just get some stuff out of my trunk then we can be on our way."  She moved to the trunk of her light brown Honda and opened it.  She stood staring in for a couple of seconds, then frowned.  "Could you come here and help me lift my bag."
         "Sure, no problem," Alex said.
         He walked to the back of her car and as he turned to look inside her trunk he saw a large navy blue duffel bag.  She grabbed one strap and he grabbed the other and they pulled the bag out.  It was much heavier than Alex had anticipated.  About 150 pounds he estimated.
         "What in the Hell do you have in here girl, a weight set?"  He asked as they carried it to his truck.
         "Ha ha, no," she said, "A girl's got to have her clothes!"
         But Alex knew she was lying, there was no way that clothes alone would weigh that much.
         "The tailgate's broken," he said, "I'm sorry to say, but we'll have to throw it over the side."
         They hurried over and lifted the duffel bag over the side of the truck and let it fall into the bed.  It hit with a sickening thud.
         "Alright, let's get a move on," Alex said, and they both jumped in the cab.




         



         "So where were you headed before this unfortunate turn of events?"  Alex said as he navigated the dark, slick, curving roads.
         "I was going to take care of my sick grandmother about two hours north of here," the woman answered.  "By the way, my name is Heather."  She extended her hand and Alex shook it tenderly.  His hand dwarfed hers.
         "My name is Frank," Alex said.  "May I ask you a question?"
         Heather nodded yes.
         "Are you a religious person?"  James asked.
         "No, never been big on religion, especially organized religion.  Although I did go to eight long years of Catholic school."  She brushed her long hair away from her face and continued, "I always hated confession, it was so creepy, telling some old man your dirty little secrets.  I always used to lie about my sins because I was too nervous to tell the truth, then at the end I would always add, 'and Father, I have also lied since my last confession.'  That way I figured I covered all the bases.  I made up sins to confess, but then I added that I had lied, so that made it alright, right?"
         "That's unfortunate, young lady."  Alex said. 
         It was then that Heather noticed the wooden crucified Jesus carving hanging from Alex's rearview mirror and she could have kicked herself for not seeing it earlier. 
         "I'm so sorry," she said, "I didn't realize you would take offense to that."
         "It is not I who took offense darling, it is God who you have offended."  Alex's face became very serious.
         Just then the chirp of a police siren cut through the odd silence and Heather was glad that it did.
         "Aw, hell, we're getting pulled over," Alex sighed as the blue and red lights filled the truck's cab.
         Alex slowly pulled over to the shoulder of the road and killed the engine.
         It seemed like the officer sat in the car for at least five minutes without moving.
         "What is he doing?"  Heather wondered aloud.
         "I don't know, but I can't afford a ticket," Alex said, "I don't even think I was speeding."
         The cop finally opened his door and stepped out.  He slowly walked up to Alex's door and knocked on the window.  Alex promptly rolled it down.  It was pouring rain.
         "You folks OK?"  The officer asked.  His ID tag read Officer Hargrove.  "You shouldn't be out in this weather."
         "We're fine," Alex answered, "We were just on our way back into town.  This young lady's car has broken down a couple miles back." He said, motioning to Heather.  "Could you call for a tow truck?"
         "Well, the old wooden bridge about a mile up ahead is washed out.  River's running right over it, the water is so high.  There's a lot of flooding in town as well.  You won't be able to get there tonight, nor would a tow truck be able to get out here."  The cop's news was disheartening to Heather and her face showed it.
         "Ok, well thank you officer, we will turn around and head back to my cabin."  Alex said. 
         "You folks be careful now," Officer Hargrove warned.  "You get to that cabin and wait this storm out, hopefully the bridge can be repaired within the next couple of days when the water recedes.  Goodnight sir,"  Hargrove said, "and goodnight young lady."  The officer tipped his hat to Heather, then walked back to his car and drove away, speeding past them with his emergency lights still throwing an eerie blue and red glow into the surrounding forest.
         "Well darling, it looks like you'll be spending the night with me."  Alex said.
         Heather looked uneasy and Alex immediately sensed her apprehension.
         "I know you must feel scared being alone with a stranger, but I assure you dear lady, I am a saint."  Alex smiled and gave Heather a warm, friendly look.  "Or, I could follow that police officer and drop you off with him if you would feel more comfortable."
         "Oh, no thanks, I wouldn't want to bother him, he seemed like a busy man.  I really appreciate what you are doing for me, but maybe you should just take me back to my car and I'll walk into town in the morning, there has to be another way to cross that river on foot.  A hiker's path maybe?"  Heather glanced at her wristwatch, it read 2:22 am.  "Hell, the sun will be coming up in a few hours anyhow and I don't feel much like sleeping tonight, I'm a little anxious to get this ordeal over and done with."
         "Oh nonsense, I can't let you spend the night all cramped up in a car, besides it's not safe.  I have a nice comfy couch in my cabin and I live alone.  You don't have to sleep if you don't want to, but I know I sure could use some shut eye.  I don't have a television, but there is a deck of cards.  You could pass the time playing Solitaire if you'd like.  I know of a place where we can cross that river by foot.  There is a place about two miles up stream where the water runs through a small mountain, more of a large hill actually, I can take you there tomorrow morning and we can climb over it.  I used to do it as a kid just about everyday."
         "Well, I guess I don't have much of a choice, now do I?"  Heather said.  "Alright Frank, let's see this cabin of yours."

















         They ran from the dirt driveway onto the wooden porch of Alex's cabin.  They were both holding a strap from Heather's unusually heavy duffle bag. 
         "Door's unlocked, just push it," Alex told Heather.  "Really no sense in locking your doors out here, no one around for miles."  He laughed.
         Heather looked around and noticed that there were crucifixes on just about every wall and paintings of Jesus everywhere she looked.  It was obvious that this Frank guy was just another harmless God-fearing redneck, even if he did seem to go a little overboard with the decorations.
         "I want to thank you again Frank for letting me stay the night, I promise I'll be out of your hair tomorrow morning, first thing.  We can drop my bag here by the door."  Heather moved over to the couch and sat down.  "Wow this is a soft couch, I may fall asleep after all."  Heather laid on her back, propping a pillow under head. 
         Alex again noticed her striking beauty, he could see her better now that she was in the light.  Her skin looked so soft, he started to salivate and quickly wiped his mouth with his red flannel shirt sleeve.  Lust was a sin, he reminded himself and said a silent prayer to Jesus for forgiveness.
         "Oh, it's no problem at all, but if you don't mind I'm going to be a bad host and get off to bed now.  I'm exhausted, and I wish I had more energy to entertain you for a little while."  He said.
         "No, no, I'll be fine, you've done more than enough for me tonight.  Get a good nights sleep Frank."
         "OK, I will.  Oh and by the way, the bathroom is off of the kitchen, over to the right.  There might even be something to eat in the fridge if you're hungry."
         "Oh, before you lay down," Heather said, "can I get that deck of playing cards."
         "Sure, sure," Alex said.  He walked over to the end table and pulled out the drawer, shuffled through some papers and rubber bands, then finally produced the deck of cards.  "Here you go hun, have fun."  Alex smiled again and gave a chuckle.  "See you in the morning."
         "Goodnight," Heather said as Alex walked up the stairs to his bedroom.
         Moments later Heather heard running water, then the creaking of bed springs, then silence.
         She waited.









         She waited for forty-five minutes and from the lack of noise she figured he must be asleep by now.  She slowly got up from the old brown couch and walked over to her bag, still laying by the door where they had dropped it when they arrived.  The floor boards creaked, but she didn't think it would be enough to wake Frank. 
         Slowly, Heather slid the zipper back and pulled the bag wide open.  Inside was the dismembered body of Richard Hughes.  265 miles away, 8 year old Jade Hughes lay awake wondering if her father would make it home in time for her recital. 
         Heather fished around through the grotesque mess and pulled out a hatchet.  The same hatchet she had used earlier that night.
         She turned, hatchet in hand, and began to ascend the old wooden stairs to Frank's bedroom.
         In the distance a wolf howled.










         Alex lay awake in his bed wondering if he should kill the woman tonight or tomorrow morning.  There was something strange about this girl though, he thought.  He sensed she had something to hide, but what could it be? 
         I'll have to kill her tonight, Alex thought.  She just made him too nervous to keep her around till morning.  Besides Jesus was anxious.
         Alex decided to use his hands to do the deed.  It was better that way, no bloody mess to clean up and it was more satisfying besides.  It was obvious he could overpower her with no problem at all.  Alex slowly got up from his bed, he was still fully dressed, and began to walk to his bedroom door.
         He thought he heard Jesus say something, but maybe it was nothing.






         Alex slowly opened the old wooden door.  It let out a creaking sound and Alex winced.  The sound was louder than he would have liked.  He hoped the woman had fallen asleep on the couch, despite her earlier reluctance to do so.
         As he stepped out in to the hallway he saw a shadow coming up the stairs. 
Alex stepped back into his bedroom and hid behind the open door.  He held his breath and listened.  He heard footsteps coming toward him, the floor boards squeaking on each step.  Alex took a deep breath and swung around through the doorway and back out into the hall. 
         Heather was too quick, she swung and buried the hatchet in Alex's right shoulder.  Alex went down.
         "You BITCH!"  He screamed.  "I'm going to fucking kill you, you fucking whore!"  Alex's voice was practically a hiss now.  "Not even Jesus can save you now."
         Heather kicked him in the jaw and Alex fell back.  Then a light filled the hallway.
         Headlights.
         Heather ran to the window and pulled the drapes aside to peek out. 
         "Shit," she whispered to herself.
         There was a black Lincoln Navigator in the dirt driveway.  Richard Hughs' black Lincoln Navigator.  Someone opened the driver's side door and got out.  There were no lights on the outside of the cabin and it was too dark to make out a face, but Heather saw the figure walk toward the front door. 
         She ran downstairs and into the kitchen, frantically pulling drawers out looking for a knife.  It took less than 10 seconds to find a suitable weapon.  A meat cleaver. 
         The door swung open and the dark figure stood in the entrance way to the cabin.  Heather slowly walked out of the kitchen, hiding the meat cleaver behind her back. 
         "Hi," she said. 
         The light was not on downstairs anymore and Heather still could not make out the figure's face, but she could tell by the outline that it was a male.
         The figure reached into his coat pocket, then reached up above his head and lit what must have been a lighter.  He moved the open flame toward something on the wall and the light came back on.
         It was the police officer that had pulled Alex and her over earlier that night.
         "The torches down here are run on propane," he explained, sometimes they go out and just need to be re-lit."
         "What... what are you doing here?"  Heather asked.
         "I live here darling," the officer said.
         There came a creaking sound to Heather's right and both her and the officer looked over to see Alex standing halfway down the stairs, hatchet still sticking out of his shoulder.
         "Look what this... this... this fucking... bitch did to me... Jim."  Alex managed to say between gasps of air.
         Heather swung the meat cleaver at the officer's head, but he ducked and grabbed her ankles.  He pulled hard and she fell back onto her butt, the cleaver went flying and landed near the blue duffle bag with a clang.
         Officer Hargrove bent down and picked it up, and while doing so he caught a glimpse of the contents of the still open duffle bag.  "This your bag sweetheart?"  Hargrove asked. 
         Heather was on her feet now and backing up into the kitchen.  Alex was slowly making his way down the stairs, blood pouring from  the wound in his right shoulder. 
         Hargrove threw the meat cleaver across the room and it hit dead on, lodging itself into Heather's arm, pinning it against the wall.  Heather screamed, and as she looked at her partially severed arm she noticed it was pinned into one of the Jesus paintings, the cleaver sticking right through the Lord's forehead.  Blood poured down from Heather's arm.  It looked as if Jesus himself was bleeding from a wound to his face.
         "Look what you made him do!"  Alex yelled.  "You've desecrated Christ's holy image!" 
         "Alex sit down, you shouldn't be moving around with an injury like that.  Shit man, let me take care of this harlot then we'll get you some help."  Hargrove said.
         He moved closer to Heather as she struggled to get free from the cleaver's grasp.  But it was no use, in a second Hargrove was upon her.  He grabbed ahold of her shoulders and threw her to the ground, her arm tore from her body and stayed attached to Jesus' kind, but strangely melancholy face via the meat cleaver. 
         Then Hargrove was on top of her, gnashing his teeth around her face.  Heather began to cry as the police officer sunk his jaws into her left cheek.  He twisted his head viciously tearing off a piece of flesh like a lion. 
         "Save some for me you asshole!"  Alex cried from the corner of the room where he had fallen down into a hunch.  "And save some for Jesus!"
         "Yes, I think it's time for you to meet Jesus," Hargrove said to Heather. 
         Heather lay motionless on the floor, half her face devoured. 
         Hargrove disappeared out the back door through the kitchen and returned dragging something behind him.  It was a wolf.  A large black wolf.  It snarled and salivated as soon as it saw Heather's body. 
         Hargrove dislodged the meat cleaver from the painting on the wall and Heather's arm fell lifelessly to the floor.  The wolf ignored it, sitting on it's haunches and still staring at Heather who was now moaning in agony on the floor.  Hargrove then knelt down next to Heather and swung down the large blade of the cleaver directly into Heather's thigh.  It took five more good swings to sever the leg completely.  When he was finished he tossed the leg over to Alex, who promptly picked it up and bit into it.  He looked up chewing and smiling a bloody smile.
         "She's all yours Jesus," Hargrove said, and the wolf leapt on top of Heather's body.  Heather opened her eyes just in time to see the wolf's gaping maw, a barrage of needle sharp teeth.  Her body was frozen in shock and she couldn't even make a sound as the wolf ripped into her neck.
         Over the sickening tearing sounds Hargrove said, "You've got to be more careful Alex, this bitch almost got the best of you tonight."
         "I would have handled it," Alex said.  "Besides, Jesus would have protected me."
         "Come on, let me help you get cleaned up, I'll take you into town and we'll tell the hospital you fell on this hatchet while cutting firewood, OK?"
         "Alright Jim."  Alex said.
         The wolf was finished with his meal and there was nothing left but tatters of flesh and clothing.  It turned it's head toward Alex Hidell and Jim Hargrove and snarled, showing a mouth full of bloody teeth. 
         "We praise you Jesus for we are your sheep."  Hidell and Hargrove said in unison.
         The wolf howled it's approval then ran out the open back door and into the darkness.