A Lunatic Moon: Chapter 9 - Cycling up

The same night Danny had happily feasted on delicious roast chicken in the dining hall, Mike-boar came to him in his sleep. He'd stuffed himself on chicken and was very content.

At dinner the mood felt festive, for everyone except Rich and Freddie. Rich had his arm in a sling due to his broken collarbone and Freddie was walking with a slight limp. Both of them wore frowns and hardly touched their food. Everyone else seemed positively cheery though. Even the cooks were happy to give Danny a double helping of chicken breast and drumsticks, amounting to what was practically an entire roast chicken. Benji spoke animatedly at dinner, excited that Danny had bested the bullies, Rich and Freddie, in the yard. He said that he wished he had been there to see it. Danny even observed Benji had forgotten to "Puke and Poke" his mouthful of chicken a few times. That made him happy and he hoped that it was a sign of progress from Benji. 

Danny wolfed down his chicken as was appropo since the moon was becoming quite round in the sky now, making him even more wolfish. He'd seen it through his window last night and the sight of it had filled him with dread. 

He'd noticed a few changes in his body. Only at night though, when the moon was high in the sky. His teeth grew longer and changed. They darkened at the tips to a silvery color, especially his canine teeth where they were at their sharpest. His eyes lightened from a dark chocolate brown to a lighter beige, almost golden color. And his fingers seemed thinner, the nails long and sharp too, almost clawlike. He stood a little taller as well. 

He had no doubt in his mind what was coming. He wished it wasn't so soon and when he was locked up inside. He didn't know what to expect and wasn't even sure if all his practicing to control it would do any good. 

For the moment though, the chicken was delicious. It didn't last long on his plate at all.

When Mike-boar came to him that night, Danny was relieved to see him. For some reason, he always felt better when the boar made an appearance now. Re-assured. Danny noticed a change in the boar as well. Namely, that it was bigger. Quite a bit bigger in fact. The first few times the boar had shown up in his dreams, Danny had been looking down at it and it was further away. Now though their eyes were almost level and the boar was considerably closer. Danny knew they could get big, but he'd never seen one this big. 

They weren't even native to the area. That had been a bit of a mystery to Danny. How a boar's skeleton could end up in the woods so close to Glen George. Mike-boar had confided that it had been killed by Jean Duhamel, but that didn't explain what it was doing there in the first place. 

No matter, he was here now and Danny was happy to see him. The three deer were there with a person too. Danny didn't recognize who it was right away, since they stood in the shadows and he could only make out their physical shape from the shoulders down, but it was clear that they were female. Even though Danny couldn't see their face, he realized that it was Julie Gifford. He knew this because she was missing her left arm. She looked to be holding something under her right arm. He couldn't see what it was, but it might have been her purse or a bag of something.

At first the boar didn't say anything. Using its snout and tusks, it just rooted in the rich soil between its hooves, occasionally pulling something out of the earth and noshing on it. This was customary between them now and Danny watched him feed for a bit. Eventually, Mike-boar looked up with it's beady boar eyes and spoke in Mike's voice... 

...Just about there Danny...two more nights now and you'll kill someone...

Jesus Mike. Nice head. You're a real bummer. I was in a good mood, hell I was even happy to see you and you gotta go and wreck it with, 'you'll kill someone'! 

Mike-boar ignored him and snuffle-snorted in the dirt. Eventually he came up with some kind of crunchy root. The end of it hung down like a twisted piece of rope. It slowly worked it's way upwards into the boar's powerful jaws. His wicked tusks jogged up and down. After chewing thoughtfully for a few seconds he said,

...You need me more than ever now Danny...Your stay there is almost over...but your troubles are just beginning...

Oh great, more cryptic messages from the almighty Mike-boar! 

Mike liked that a lot and chuckled his deep rumbling laugh. Danny supposed that if boars, big boars, could laugh, that's what it would sound like.

...Maybe you didn't hear me when I said your stay there is almost over...

Yeah but what does that mean? Am I getting out of here, or am I gonna die? Danny wondered if this was even a dream, he'd never had conversations in a dream before. He'd never even been able to think lucidly in a dream. Maybe this was an out of body experience, or something.

...no you aren't going to die...at least not there...you are going to be released soon...

So maybe I won't have to kill anyone then! Danny said relieved.

...whoa I didn't say that...you'll kill...you'll change on your first full moon and kill...once maybe twice...but you'll also be released...

You seem to have all the answers Mike! Why can't you just tell me straight? Why does all this have to be in riddles? It's stupid. It's like some cheezy Hollywood werewolf movie, where the main character's friend comes back from the dead and tells him a bunch of riddles that he's supposed to figure out, in order to save himself. 

Is it to make this more fun for me? More entertaining for you? Do you know all of this ahead of time, or is this just how it comes to you as well? I don't know what it is, but I'm not having very much fun here. you're the only one who seems to be getting off on it.

Mike-boar's laughter startled the deer, but they didn't run. Julie's shadow remained perfectly still, but he could hear her breathing now. Closer now...A strange rasping, bubbly sound.

...Sorry Dan-o I don't have all the answers...I only sorta know what's gonna happen next and...

He stopped in mid sentence and seemed to be straining against something. He shifted his bulk, lifting his hooves and pawed furrows through the dead leaves. He took a big breath, pushed and farted. It was loud and potently rank, smelling of old cabbage and eggs. He chuckled.

Mike! Danny admonished, glancing at Julie's shadow.

...aw trust me...she doesn't mind...but I gotta go now...yeah, I gotta go, but I'll be back soon... practice control, Danny, while I'm away... control...Danny...practice...

The clearing in the forest dimmed and everything slipped into shadow, but Danny remained. Mike-boar was no longer in front of him. The deer were gone too, but he wasn't completely alone either. He could see the outline of Julie standing there and it scared him. He could still hear her breathing in the dark, close to him now, almost touching him with her cold dead flesh. She scared him so close like that, the darkness did and so did her breathing. It was ragged and irregular and it sounded wet, as if she had a bad cold. 

Something was wrong and the presence of evil was strong and growing stronger. For the first time in his dream, Julie spoke, but her voice came from whatever it was she was holding down under her arm. She said, 

"Help me, Danny." 

Her voice was flat and without expression. She started to lift what she was holding, but he didn't want to see. He squinched his eyes tightly shut. She held it up right close to his ear and in case he hadn't heard her the first time, she whispered those dead words directly into his ear. That was when he realized it must be her head she was holding. There was no breath. Warm, or cold, because she wasn't breathing through her mouth anymore, when she said,

"Help me."

He opened his eyes. The clearing among the trees slowly grew brighter, but Julie was gone. Instead, Danny found himself staring up at the full moon, listening to the water dripping from the leaves. Drip, drip, dripping. Then he realized the dripping sound was coming from him, from his hands, his fingertips...he raised them into the moonlight so he could see. And they were claws, drip, drip, dripping with blood. Horrified, he threw back his head to scream and howled instead.

The day dawned bright and Danny sat up with a start. Grateful for the morning, but anxious with another night having passed, bringing him closer to the inevitable. He looked up at the oversized clock on the wall, behind its protective wire cage, and saw that there were still half an hour to go before he could line up for breakfast, then morning meds. He thought about what Mike-boar had told him in his dream. That he was going to be released soon, he wondered what that meant. First of all why would he be released? Did it mean he was going to be transferred to a jail? Would he be allowed to go home? If he was going to kill someone, then he must be getting transferred to a jail. Unless he could get away with it, but he didn't see how that was even possible. How could he kill someone if he was locked in his room? Who was he going to kill? 

He wished Mike-boar could have explained it to him better. Maybe Mike-boar didn't even know. Now Julie Gifford was haunting his dreams too. How was he supposed to help her? The girl didn't even have her head attached. That's what had been all wrong about her murder, he realized. Not only did she have her arm pulled off, but she'd been decapitated...Wonderful.

To distract himself, he got up, washed his face, brushed his teeth, which were a little longer and pointier this morning, and set about collecting his belongings. He didn't have much. A few sweatshirts and t-shirts his mom had brought him from home, some leftover candy and two and a half packs of cigarettes. Two packs in his locker and a half pack on him, which he wasn't supposed to have in his room. 

He also had the same clothes he'd been wearing when he was admitted to the PAC. Looking at them brought him back to the fight in the field, which seemed so long ago. They'd been laundered since arriving and he folded them along with the other clothing his mom had brought him and stacked everything on one of the built-in shelves, except the cigarettes. He put those in his front pocket.

He sat on the end of the cot and examined his hands. They didn't look much different. The nails were a little pointed, and his fingers were a bit longer than usual. They were still his hands, though and there was no blood on them yet. He looked up at the clock again; it was time for breakfast now. He got up and left his room to go to the dining hall. Then for some reason, he turned around and ducked back into his room, closing the door behind him. He went to where his clothes were folded and the pile of clean socks was stuffed behind them. He rummaged around and found the pair of socks he was looking for. Where he'd concealed all the pills he'd collected in the paper envelope. He took the bulging packet of medication and stuffed it deep into his front pocket with his cigarettes and lighter. He wasn't sure why he'd done that, but he had a feeling that he should. He left again and walked down the hall to join the growing line for breakfast. He could smell bacon and coffee and his stomach growled. 

As he moved along with his tray, getting sausage, bacon, eggs and coffee, he looked around and saw Benji already seated at their table in the far corner. Benji smiled at him and raised his hand in a wave. Danny waved back and then spotted Rich, Ronnie and Freddie sitting together at a table by the windows overlooking the front parking lot. They'd obviously been scheming and were watching Danny as he crossed the floor to join Benji. He was a little worried about what they might have in store for him next, but he pushed the thought from his mind and sat down across from Benji. 

Benji had progressed to checking every other bite now for his front teeth and Danny was proud of him, without telling him so. Young men, in their teenage years, were generally careful of heaping too much praise on a friend they were proud of. Without a better term for it, it was just...soft. Better to be their friend and support them quietly, so he pretended not to notice. 

Benji looked up from his plate and said, 

"Great day huh? It looks nice out. Are you going outside after lunch today? I might even go out."  

That was very rare for Benji. His mental illnesses were a mixture of anxiety, depression and a healthy dose of what he referred to as post-traumatic stress disorder. It must be a new term, because Danny had never heard of that one before. Couldn't blame him, though, considering what happened to him. An injustice like that, paired with a misdiagnosis as a violent offender. Danny couldn't picture Benji as violent; it didn't mean he was capable of it, but so far he hadn't struck Danny as mean-spirited at all. Just, sad, lonely and nervous. 

He hadn't seen him outside even once yet. He obviously didn't like being around the other patients and Danny couldn't blame him. Benji was really the only halfway normal person in here, apart from the 'spitting and sorting' that was. He seemed content to stay in his room and just read. When everyone else went outside, that was when he might go to the common room, because it was always practically empty during that time. As far as Danny knew, nobody was coming to visit him either. Probably because there wasn't anyone and even if there were, they wouldn't want to come and visit a 'double murderer' in a psychiatric facility anyway.

He must really be feeling good today to venture outside. Danny thought to himself. He sure seemed to be in a better frame of mind. So when Benji said he was actually thinking about going outside for once, Danny tried to encourage him

"Oh hell yeah, sun is shining, birds are singing." Danny said with a mouthful of sausage, I'll be out there for sure. You should come sit with me."

"I think I just might." Benji said, nodding and slurping at his coffee. 

After breakfast, Danny was informed by an orderly he'd never seen before that his parents were there to visit him. Danny briefly wondered where Clay and Tom were. On his way down to the visitor's centre, he saw them coming out of Doctor Rickert's office. They obviously hadn't been fired, since they were still wearing their scrubs and had their keys and cattle prods, but they didn't look happy either. Danny slipped into the visitor's center before they saw him. So far the day had been going well and he could do without a run-in with them putting a damper on it.

His parents sat at a table with his brother Kevin and they all looked happy to see him. Kevin got up to give him a big hug. He looked Danny up and down, grinning.

 "Looks like you gained some weight!" He said with a laugh.

 "They feed us pretty well in here." Danny said, glad to see his brother had decided to come along. 

His mother was next and she rushed over to hug Danny too. His father, Art remained sitting but pushed a chair out for Danny using his foot. At least he was smiling brightly. 

"Come sit down, let's talk." He said and Danny took a seat.

"Wow. Nice surprise. Good to see you, Kev. Thanks for coming."

"Yeah, well I wanted to see this place before they let you out." 

He replied, beaming.

"Let me out? What are you guys talking about? When?" 

Danny could barely contain his excitement. He sat on the edge of his chair, searching their faces.

"Whoa, hold on Kevin." 

Art held his hand up for him to slow down, 

"Danny's not getting let out just yet, but probably very soon. So Kevin wanted to see you Danny, or see this place, while he still had a chance."

Danny was thrilled but apprehensive; he knew what was coming the night after this and wasn't so sure he would be getting out when it was all done. 

"Did you hear something? How do you know?" 

He asked.

His mom spoke up, 

"Your doctor called first thing this morning. Doctor Rickert? He said you had a very productive assessment and test yesterday afternoon. Apparently, you are doing much better and he is writing a letter of recommendation to have you released early next week. He said that your stay here has done you good. You have shown genuine remorse and also that you are a great deal calmer and more focused." 

Louise said, her eyes were swimming with tears. She brushed her hair back from her face and blew her nose into a Kleenex.

"I'm very proud of you Danny." 

She added, managing to keep a grip on her emotions and patted his knee.

Kevin was still looking at Danny as if there were something different about him, as if he'd gone off to battle and had just returned with war wounds and dozens of exciting tales to tell. He rubbed his palms briskly against the knees of his jeans. 

"So Danny, are there like real psychos in here and stuff? Like crazy people?" 

He asked excitedly, making a face like a 'crazy person'.

"Kevin!" Their mom snapped at him, horrified.

"Kevin ignored her and kept smiling. "Well? What's it like?"

Danny shook his head, laughing. 

"Is that what crazy people look like? Do I look like that yet? Yeah, there's a few wierd ones for sure, but most of them are pretty tame. There's a couple guys in here that are really messed up and I think they want to kill me."

"What?" Louise gasped. "Is there anyone you can talk to? Don't they have orderlies? What about Doctor Rickert? He must be able to do something."

"No."Danny said looking at his hands. "The orderlies are just as bad. They'll break up a fight if it looks bad, but they can't stop one from starting and Doctor Rickert wouldn't be able to do anything. I can't tell anyone about these guys either, cuz it'd be like ratting them out." 

"Snitches get stitches." Art said quietly.

"Exactly, Dad," Danny said. "As long as I keep my head down, I should be alright. Hopefully it won't be for much longer." 

One way or the other. He thought to himself.

"Well, I don't like it, Danny. Who are these people and why do they have to be in the same ward as you? Art, there must be something we can do!" 

She looked at her husband, hoping he might have a solution off the top of his head.

"No, dear." He said, shaking his head. 

"Danny's right, there's really nothing we can do about it. If he can stay out of their way just a little longer, he should be alright. I'll speak to my lawyer to see if we can speed up the process as soon as Doctor Rickert writes his letter of recommendation. In the meantime, Danny, try to stay out of trouble. Things sound like they are moving forward in your favour and you don't want to jeopardize that." 

The rest of the visit was pretty much small talk. Danny told Kevin, who wanted to know, what some of the other patients were in there for. He told him a little bit, but not about the worst offenders for fear of worrying his mother too much. They talked about what kind of food they had in the dining hall. And he told them that he made a friend with Benji. When Kevin asked why Benji had been admitted to the PAC, he just told him that Benji suffered from depression and bad anxiety. He didn't tell him that Benji had been charged with killing both his parents using a shotgun. 

Then just before time was up, his mother gave him a small care package. It contained a new package of socks a brand new sweatshirt and some candy. When his mom wasn't looking, Art slipped him a pack of cigarettes under the table and put his fnger to his lips. Keep it quiet. Then they all stood up for another round of hugs before leaving.

Danny promised his father that he would do everything he could to keep out of trouble. He promised his mother that he would try to stay out of harm's way. And as they were leaving and Kevin whispered in his ear to, 

"Give 'em hell Danny!" 

He also promised Kevin that he would.

After visiting hour, Danny was summoned to see Dr. Rickert. The doctor told him that all the tests looked good and the answers Danny had provided in the questionnaire placed him in the 'Safe' category. Meaning that Danny had shown he was neither a threat to himself or anyone around him. Danny smiled secretly at that, thinking about Nurse Clay, who had his hand bandaged with burned fingers and Nurse Tom, who had a small burn to his arm. Meanwhile, Rich was walking around with a broken collarbone and his arm in a sling and Freddie's limp was still bugging him. No, Danny was not a threat. 

Rickert also reported that as long as Danny kept taking his meds (Danny called it 'Faking' his meds), he would continue to benefit from increased focus and a sense of calm. Rickert had written his letter of recommendation to the court and he had Danny sign it where the letter stated that Danny would continue his program of treatment after release, complete a two week class in anger management and see a licensed therapist every week. 

Rickert warned Danny not to damage his chances of early release by fighting with any of the patients. Danny explained to the doctor that some of the patients had not taken kindly to him and that he was a marked man. He wanted the doctor to understand that he might have to defend himself from these people and didn't want that affecting his release. Rickert advised him that it would be best not to engage them at all. When Danny asked if he should just 'turtle up' in the fetal position, then and protect his head. Rickert simply said, 

"Yes. Exactly. Turtle up." 

When his appointment was over, it was almost lunchtime. Danny went to his room and put away the things from his care package. He unfolded the sweatshirt that he hadn't looked at yet and was surprised to see on the front of it a picture of a wolf howling at the moon.

He chuckled to himself and said, "Mother knows best!"

There was a heart wrenching twang of love for his mother that was actually painful. He carefully folded it and put it on his shelf. 

Suddenly, he realized with sorrow that he wasn't a little boy any longer. The past few weeks had changed him drastically. Although he was only 16, he felt much older. The things he'd seen and experienced in here and just before he'd been admitted had forced him to grow up quickly and abandon the idea that everything was going to be the same from now on. 

If it was true and the full moon was going to cause him to change into a werewolf, then hell, not only was he not a little boy any longer, but was he even a boy? A young man? Human for chrissake? What about birthdays and Christmas? How was he going to be able to enjoy any of that, knowing every month he'd change and turn into a blood thirsty killer? How would he keep his family safe? Safe from himself? 

There were far too many questions and nowhere near enough answers. Mike-boar and his cryptic messages were no help. He even said it himself, that he didn't know everything and what was going to happen. He knew a lot and that was helpful, but he didn't know everything. 

His head felt like it was going to explode, trying to understand what was going on. His eyes grew hot, threatening tears of frustration. So he took a deep breath and just pushed it all down. That's all he could do, was just push it all down and take one day at a time... One day at a time. He'd find out soon enough what kind of control he had over himself as a monster. 

The lunch bell rang, three short bursts, a pause, three short bursts, another pause and three short bursts. He was already in the hall by the end of the first three rings and moving quickly. He could smell meat cooking and saliva flooded his mouth. In his rush to join the lunch line, he just about ran smack into the back of Freddie Jerome, aka the Big Stink. Danny didn't think the guy could smell any stronger, but he just about overpowered the aroma of fried pork chops. It was disgusting and if it hadn't been so annoying, it would have been depressing. Hadn't the guy ever heard of a shower? Obviously, everyone was too intimidated by him to suggest bathing. At this point, though, Danny was far beyond being intimidated, let alone polite or even tactful. The smell of fried pork and his hunger for meat, this close to the full moon, brought about an edge to his anger he hadn't yet felt before. 

When Freddie looked behind him to glare at Danny, Danny rewarded him with a toothy grin. Something about the look on Danny's face, or maybe the gleam in his eyes, or the way the saliva ran down his chin unchecked, made Freddie think twice about saying anything. Instead, he quickly moved through the lineup and, carrying his tray, joined Rich and Ronnie over by the windows, where the three of them put their heads together planning a strategy of some kind. 

Danny wasn't worried; he knew the end was in sight and one way or another, he'd be done with these fools. The cook loaded him up with four fat chops. They'd come to value Danny and his continued aplomb handling the assholes of the PAC. They weren't blind or deaf and they'd heard the stories going around and seen the injured orderlies. If Danny wanted four pork chops and nothing else, they were happy to oblige. 

He went and took his seat with Benji and the two of them ate together while Danny told him how he might be getting out soon. Then, realizing it might not be what Benji wanted to hear, he told him stories about his life back in Glen George. He even relayed the entire tale of how he wound up there and his fight with Jean Duhamel. He left out the part where he was supposed to be a werewolf, for obvious reasons. 

By the end of explaining everything that happened, Benji was in agreement that Duhamel was probably the killer. In his opinion, if he hadn't been the one who'd killed Michael, he was at least responsible for killing Julie Gifford. He thought Danny brave for going back at night and looking for the evidence that Duhamel had tried to dispose of. When Danny told him he'd broken both of the old man's wrists in the fight before getting arrested, Benji was wide-eyed with amazement.

"That must have taken a lot of strength!" He exclaimed. "With just your bare hands?" 

"Yeah, I guess I never thought of that. I was running on pure adrenaline." 

After lunch, they put their trays away and meandered out into the hall, still chatting and laughing, making plans to meet each other outside. As Benji walked away and Danny headed for his room, he was intercepted by Tito and a brand new orderly named 'Red' for obvious reasons. He was called Red for his long red hair tied in a ponytail and his shaggy red beard. He was a lot taller than Tito and his tattooed biceps bulged grotesquely. His smile was far from friendly. Tito smacked his new cattle prod against his palm repeatedly and leaned towards Danny.

"Cops are here for you, Ferguson!" 

He said with a smirk, pointing in the direction of the visitor's center with the tip of the cattle prod. 

"Hopefully they're here to cart you off to jail, where you belong."

Instead of sparring with a witty comeback, he took Rickert's advice and ignored them, refusing to engage. Instead, curious, he just walked past with hardly a glance. He went down the hall through the door and was surprised to see Sergeant Bell and Sam standing there waiting for him. They motioned to a table in the corner and the three sat down. There was nobody else in the visitor's center, as it was outside visiting hours. Still, Bell spoke quietly while looking about.

"This is less than ideal for an interview, but it'll have to do for now."

Danny looked worried so Sam gave him a grim little smile that did nothing to ease his fears. Bell picked up on it.

"We're just here to ask you a few follow up questions Danny. At the moment nothing has changed in our investigation."

Danny wiped the sweat from his palms on his trackpants and asked, 

"Did you find her arm? Did they tell you to go back to look for Julie's arm?"

"Wait." Sam said, holding up a finger. 

"That's one of the things we don't understand. How did you come to know Mr.Duhamel before all this? Before the fight, we'll say. It sounds like you knew him from somewhere." 

Bell had his notebook out now with pen at the ready. He started to click it while Danny thought. Click, Click, Click, Click, Click. Five times Danny counted and then he said,

"Okay. Here's what happened." With a sigh. 

Both Sam and Bell leaned in a little. They knew they were about to hear the truth, or at least as much of the truth as the kid was willing to tell, but a good chunk of the truth all the same. He looked defeated. Although he looked a lot better than the last time they'd seen him, he also looked weary of holding it in. They'd seen that look dozens of times before in other suspects.

"When I heard Mike was missing, I went looking for him. I knew that sometimes after partying in town, if it's really foggy out it's hard to get a ride, so he'd take the tracks home. We both hitch hike up and down Glen George road, just to get to town so we can hang out with our friends from highschool. Glen George gets a little boring sometimes. Anyway, I figured if he'd taken the road, somebody would have probably seen him already, or found him in the ditch. So I started walking back the tracks and that's when I found him."

"Okay," 

Sam said, interrupting. Impatient. 

"We know that already, but..."

Bell held up his hand and Danny continued.

"When I found him, he was in such a mess, like, all torn up like that. Especially his throat." 

Bell and Sam glanced at each other, but Danny missed it because he was busy looking at his hands, twisting his fingers.

"When you guys said he'd been hit by a train, I didn't think that was right. I don't know much about what happens if you get hit by a train, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't take chunks out of you like that and shred your clothes. I figure it would just smack you into the ditch all twisted up, or splatter you like a bug on a windshield. Still, I didn't think it was a train. So after you guys were done with the coroner, or whatever, on the tracks. I went back to take a look around. There wasn't anything to see. I guess you guys collected everything there as evidence or something. I don't know. I know you told me not to go back there, but if it was a train, why would you need evidence?" 

He looked up at Bell, checking his face for any hints. Bell thought Danny suddenly looked a lot wiser and knowledgeable than he let on.

Bell answered simply. "We just like to be thorough." 

Danny nodded, as if he expected as much.

Then Bell asked, "How do you know so much about coroners and police procedure?"

Danny shrugged. "I don't know that much...I'm sixteen, not six. Besides, I watch Quincy and I read a lot."

He motioned for Danny to carry on. "Please, continue."

Danny sighed again and slumped back in his chair. "So I kept walking down the tracks. Just thinking about stuff, about Mike and all and eventually just past the woods, I found a cigarette butt. One of Mike's. It was fresh and it was his brand. I stood there for a bit and that's when I saw Mr. Duhamel's house, there beside the tracks. So I wanted to ask him if he'd heard anything, like if Mike were drunk and singing, or any animal sounds, coyotes, anything. Right? So I knocked on his door and he wasn't very friendly at all and he smelled bad. There was just something about him. He sure as fuck wasn't the sorry, little old man you guys talked to..."

"Hey!" 

Sam said.

"Language."

"Right, okay. He grabbed my arm too and hurt it. I didn't like him at all. Didn't trust him. So anyway, I ended up going back after Julie was killed. I just wanted to spy on him a bit. You know, see what he was all about." 

Danny looked up at Bell and Sam, a tiny smile played on his lips. 

"Like a stakeout."

Sam just nodded. "Yeah, I get it." Unimpressed.

"Anyway, I came through the woods this time and I saw him on his porch." 

Danny remembered how Duhamel had seemed to know he was there and how he was smiling at him with that horrible smile, all fangs and hate.

"It seemed like he was watching me, watching him." 

He shuddered at the memory of it. Bell and Sam glanced at each other again. Danny's mood appeared to have changed; he became withdrawn and dreamy. Looking down at his hands again, he looked up quickly. 

"That's when you guys showed up. I heard everything ya know. How you were asking him about Julie's murder and that was when he put on his big show. Acting like a feeble little, lonely old man, but he's not. He's really nasty and mean and... I'm telling you, he's also really strong. After you guys left ...and I knew you didn't believe him. Especially you Sam." And Danny looked pointedly at Sam. 

Sam chuckled out of character, amused by this. "How could you tell that from where you were? If you were at the edge of the woods, that's pretty far away to be able to see my expression."

"Well it wasn't just that." Danny explained. "It was everything. The way you acted towards him, the stuff you said. You even made fun of his garbage pile." 

Bell was grinning too now. Waiting to see what Sam would say.

Sam sat back in his chair and held up his hands. You got me. "Was I that obvious?" 

"Yeahhhh. Pretty much." Danny said and he grew serious again. "Just after you guys left in your cruiser, he went into his house. He came out and looked around. I guess he didn't know that I was still there. Anyway, he had something in his hand and he threw it all the way into the back of his field. It was a hell of a throw. Like I said, he looks like a little old man, but he's super strong. So I knew he was trying to get rid of something, evidence, or something he didn't want you guys to find if you came back with a search warrant."

This time time when Sam and Bell looked at each other, their eyes were wide with disbelief. Danny caught it and sat forward anxiously. 

"Did you get a warrant? Did you go back? Did you find it?"

"No, no, wait Danny. We're listening to your story. So you saw him throw something what happened next?" 

Danny grumbled something under his breath, put out that they didn't tell him, but continued...

"Yeah so he threw something and I was just dying to know what it was. So I snuck out, late at night and came through the woods again. I crawled through the grass to where I saw the thing land and that's when I found Julie's arm. I mean it had to be hers right? She had pink nail polish on. It was all rotted and smelled pretty bad. I guess I was in shock, cuz I didn't hear him sneak up behind me. That's when he attacked me. He tried to strangle me. Somehow I got loose. I don't remember how, but then I started fighting with him. You guys think I was just beating on him for no reason. It was self-defense!"

He waited to see if they would agree with him, but when they didn't say anything, he sat back, irritated.

"Look, the guy was trying to kill me and he's super strong, alright? That's when the other cops showed up. I don't know why they came; it was the middle of the night, but the one cop, the guy... hit me with his flashlight, got me off 'Old and Ugly'. That's when they cuffed me and put me in the car. Here I am."

Bell was busy writing stuff down. He had just been looking at the autopsy photos, so he knew that Julie Gifford's remaining hand had pink polish on it's nails. Sam had been taking notes too, but for the most part he'd been listening to Danny and watching his mannerisms and expressions.

Bell looked up from his notepad and asked, "So you just assumed it was Julie's arm. You didn't know for a fact that it was, though, so why..?"

Danny cut him off. "Well obviously...I heard you guys asking him about Julie and when you left and he tried to get rid of it..." 

He spread his hands as if to say, 'There you have it.' Simple deduction.

Bell nodded and asked him, "So before Mike was killed, you hadn't had any interaction with Mr. Duhamel at all? Had you seen him in town?'

"No."

"Did you ever get into it with him at the village store, say? Like ever argue with him outside of this?"

"No.'

"So you didn't know Duhamel at all? How about your friend Mike? Did he know him? Would he have any reason to?"

Danny shook his head. 

"Not at all. I didn't even know he lived there. I've been down the tracks lots of times. With my brothers, with Mike. All kinds of times. We never saw that guy, never even saw his house."

Bell thought for a minute, clicking his pen. Click, Click, Click. Three times.

He sighed and his shoulders slumped under his uniform jacket. Danny looked at him expectantly. Bell opened his mouth to say something, then shut it, then opened it again and said, 

"We went back with a search warrant for his property. We didn't search his house."

"Yet." Sam added and Bell shot him a stern look.

"We didn't find anyone's arm Danny, but that doesn't mean we think you're lying. You might have found something that looked like an arm. Maybe a deer leg Mr. Duhamel discarded." 

Bell said, but Danny could tell he didn't believe that. 

"In the meantime, Mr. Duhamel isn't pressing any charges and it sounds as though you might be getting out of here soon." 

Danny just nodded. Tired of the questions already.

"So I don't want you having anything to do with Mr. Duhamel, you hear me?" He gave Danny a cop look. Waiting for his reply.

"No sir. I won't." Danny said.

"I don't want you going back to his house for any reason. I don't want you talking to him. I want you to work on yourself. Get better. You're young. Things like this can scar you. You can carry it for life. Trust me. Sam and I know. Right Sam?" And Bell looked to Sam.

"That's right Danny." Sam said.

"What do you know? You couldn't even find her arm. Even I could find it in the dark! You guys call yourselves...?...Pfffft! Cha'! Right...grrrr." He threw his hands up in the air fed up with it all.  

"I didn't hear you say that you're going to stay away from there either."

"Ok, I heard ya."

"Danny..."

"Alright! I won't."

"Noooo..." Sam replied shaking his head.

 "Okay, I promise, I'll stay away from Mr.Duhamel...SIR."

"That's better." Sam said and stood, clapping Danny on the shoulder, making him jump.

Bell flipped his pad closed and stuck his pen into his breast pocket. He rose from the chair and looked at Danny. 

"I hope things go well for you Danny. I really do. Enjoy the rest of your summer. School starts in a month, so make the best of it. Try and put this behind you." 

He rested his hand on Danny's shoulder. 

"And take care of yourself. Okay? If we need anything more from you, we'll be in touch."

After they left the lounge, he sat at the table for a minute, thinking about what Sergeant Bell said about putting this behind him. Right. It was only just beginning...

On his way down the hall, Danny ran into Tito and Red again, as if they were waiting to see what happened to him. He tried to ignore them, but they stepped into his path. Tito piped up.

"Oh, I was hoping we were done with you!" He remarked snidely. 

Danny made as if to lunge at him and both orderlies flinched, instinctively reaching for their cattle prods. Danny laughed wildly. It was a psychiatric detention center after all. Wasn't it? He was still screaming laughter as he went out to find Benji. 

The sun beat down, its rays hot against his skin. The sky was devoid of clouds and the air was a hushed, thick calm. It was the type of day that could invite disaster, for no other purpose than sticking in your mind forever. A perfect day for a perfect disaster. 

Danny felt in his heart that something was wrong. Benji was nowhere to be seen. He said he would meet him out here and that was no small task for Benji. Instead, he looked for the usual suspects, the three amigos. They, all three of them, were sitting at separate tables and that was wrong. Obviously something had happened and his stomach was in knots.

He stood just outside the door, wondering what he should do, when he saw one of the other patients waving him over. He was playing cards with two other patients at a picnic table. His name was Clark and he had thick glasses that magnified his bright blue eyes. Wild and panicked. 

Clark was a resident of the PAC, because he'd taken his uncle's Barracuda for a joyride and crashed it into a telephone pole. One of his three passengers at the time had broken their neck and was paralyzed. Not only that, but apart from a speech impediment, he also had a range of recently diagnosed disorders, dyslexia, aspergers and some mild schizophrenia. His parents hadn't been worried that he might be a danger to himself, but rather a danger to others. Besides, his father's brother's car had been a write off. So as a family, they all decided that the PAC might be a more suitable place for Clark to live...for now. Clark was harmless and anyone that really knew him would have told you so. 

Danny could tell he was harmless too, without even knowing the guy. He went over and knelt down close to hear what he had to say. 

"They took Benji to the infirmary!" 

He whispered hoarsely.

Danny gasped. 

"What? Why?" 

"They beat him up really bad. Like really bad. Fuckin Freddie wush stompin' on his head man! Him an' Rich an' Ronnie done it. They wun't any owderies out heah. They s'poshed to have owderies out heah too! We bwoke it up, we twied Danny, but when we got to Benji he wush knocked out."

Knocked out? No. Danny thought to himself. That's what happens with one well placed punch. He was probably unconscious.

"Unconscious." Danny corrected him.

"Yeah," Clark tried to say it, but struggled. "Unscon...umscosh...umsconshent...they fuckin made him umsconshent Danny! Umsconshent!" 

Although his eyes were glistening, there was a burning anger there too.

"Aww no Clark...Damn them. I'm gonna get em for this!"

Clark started to stand up, 

"I can hep you!" Courageous like a lion. His crew of fellow card players made to stand up too.

 Danny put his hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him back down. He looked around at the guys who obviously saw Clark as their leader. 

"Not now Clark. Later okay? I don't want you guys getting any trouble. I think I can handle it for now." 

He patted him on the back. 

"Thanks, though, buddy. I owe you one. You're a good guy. That goes for all of you..." He added. They nodded and the one kid, who was as tall as Freddie but broader through the chest and shoulders, smacked his fist into his palm. Danny had no doubt this guy was Clark's muscle and could have easily taken Freddie apart if he were invited to.

Danny turned his back to the yard. He'd caught a glimpse of Rich and he'd been smiling. Those cowards! They didn't want to try fighting Danny, so they ganged up on his friend instead. Poor Benji. Three on one. Typical. He was so angry, he knew he was about to lose control, so he started walking. He walked the length of the building to the end of the yard, as far away from everyone as he could get. He pulled his cigarettes out with trembling hands and lit a smoke. Dragging on it furiously, he blew smoke up into the clean blue sky. He needed to find out if Benji was okay. 

He thought of the other kid Freddie had put in a coma by smashing his head into the pavement. Over a lousy twenty bucks worth of weed too. He took another drag and started pacing back and forth. Maybe he should join forces with Clark and his crew; they were obviously fearless, but he really didn't want to bring any trouble down on them. He looked back over at the cluster of picnic tables. No orderlies had been present when Benji was attacked? There were still no orderlies in the yard now! Where the hell was Tito and Red? 

He hawked and spat angrily into the bushes. Something shiny glittered back at him. Pushing some branches aside, he looked into the shadows to see what it was. Someone had stashed something back there. Behind the evergreen bush, against the wall, was an almost full bottle of whiskey. Quickly, he let the branches snap back and he rapidly left the site of his discovery before anyone saw him. He walked across to the back of the yard, to stand under the shade of a big maple tree instead. 

He knew he'd found Clay and Tom's secret stash of booze. All those times they'd come in reeking of cigarettes and liquor. He'd seen all the butts on the ground under the evergreen bush too. It was their little hang out, when they came out for smoke breaks. He knew he could probably get them fired right now if he exposed their little secret. They were walking on thin ice already and if he could get Doctor Rickert out here to show him the bottle of whiskey, they'd be finished. Damned idiots! He thought. 

There was so much he wanted to do. Some of it was truly frightening as well. He could feel the blood lust bubbling up inside him from somewhere, from something that had never been a part of him before. He wanted to take the bottle and go smash it over Freddie's head, cut Rich and Ronnie to ribbons with the broken neck of it. With that done, then he'd go and get Clay and Tom fired. But that wouldn't get him out of here. It would guarantee him an extra long stay in high security, or worse. He took some deep breaths and counted to ten. Control.

He had a different idea forming now. It was a little shaky and not very well planned, but it was a start at least and it was more than what he had five minutes ago. 

The first thing he did was leave the yard and go see Nurse Christie. He asked her if he could talk to Doctor Rickert, but she was in a particularly surly mood and rebuffed him. He inquired about the condition of Benji in the infirmary instead. She flatly refused to tell him anything, period and folded her arms across her narrow chest, frowning at him and tapping her foot. He was about to push the issue, when Clay and Tom showed up looking annoyed. She must have a panic button that she can press whenever she felt bothered by a pesky patient. Danny thought. Clay's hand was wrapped in a fat bandage where he'd been burned. Tom's sleeve covered his injury.

"You're a real pain in the ass, Ferguson. We have to work the night shift now because of you" 

Before he could protest, Clay had him in a full Nelson and Tom hit him in the stomach. It was a powerful punch and nailed him dead center in his solar plexus. The air whooshed out of his lungs and he doubled over from the force of the blow. His diaphragm should have been paralyzed, leaving his lungs an agonized vacuum for a minute or so. He knew how terrible that punch could have been. He was so very grateful it only took a couple seconds, before he could draw air again. By then, they were dragging him down the hall to his room. They heaved him through his door, and he crashed into the cot. Clay slammed the door shut and locked it. Looking through the window, he smiled at Danny, gave him the finger, and walked away. 

Probably going to their secret spot to smoke and drink. Danny thought sourly. They weren't supposed to start their shift until four in the afternoon, but they were an hour early. Plenty of time to get buzzed before they had to start. 

He sat on the floor, where he'd landed, for a few minutes thinking, then got up to examine the locking mechanism on his door. It was a standard locking deadbolt, magnetic and spring-loaded on a timer, or manually with a key. The timing of the locks was controlled in one of the security offices. The door and its frame were metal, but metal wasn't iron, though and the timer also had no bearing on what he wanted to do. Danny knew that if he could find something stronger than the frame, he should be able to force it aside just enough to pop the end of the bolt out of its seat, opening the door. A prybar would be ideal, maybe a little too robust in fact and impossible to find around here as well. He didn't want to make much visible or lasting damage to the lock.                            

He was going to have to improvise and keep his eyes open for a decent tool. In order for his plan to work, he had to find a way out of his room for a few minutes in the middle of the night. There were a couple of hours to kill just then, until dinner time, so he lay down on the cot and thought about everything. Then he thought some more.

Eventually, he heard his door get unlocked. The clock said it was just a few minutes before five. People were walking past his door, going to the dining hall to line up. Waiting until the hallway was silent, he got up to go join them. He wanted to be the last person in line. One of the cooks Danny had gotten friendly with was a tall, warm Jamaican guy called Ellis. Because the kitchen staff was also responsible for bringing meals to the infirmary, he would have information about Benji's condition.

"He doesn't look good, Danny-man. Those boys really hurt him. They hurt him badly. They're going to send him out to a big hospital. He is not awake yet." 

Without even looking, he piled Danny's plate high with meatloaf. Shaking his head angrily.

"I'm so sorry about your friend Danny-man. You give me five minutes with those boys, and I can fix them up, but good!"

Danny could believe it too. Not only was Ellis ex-military, but he was also an easy six-foot-five, and his forearms were choked with thick, bulging muscle. His face was scarred from old battles and street fights. He wished he could arrange those five minutes with Ellis, Rich, Ronnie and Freddie. He was sure that five minutes was all it would take. Before Danny could pick up the tray and take it to his table, Ellis said, 

"Wait a minute, Danny-man. I have something for you." 

He turned away and went off to rummage in an army issue rucksack that had a ragged patch of the Jamaican flag on its flap. He returned holding a small, grease stained brown paper bag and handed it to him. 

"This is biltong. It's good. I make it myself." 

Danny opened the paper sack and gave it a sniff. It smelled good but looked like hell. He wrinkled his nose and asked, 

"What's biltong?" 

Ellis' sudden laugh boomed throughout the dining hall, loud enough to momentarily drown out the racket of people eating, talking, and squeaking of chairs.

"It's dried beef. Very fine. Like jerky, but better. Try some."

He grinned, and a pointed gold canine tooth shone briefly under the fluorescent lights.

Danny took a pinch of the dried meat. It looked like a combination of seaweed and chewing tobacco. He put it in his mouth. It was lightly salted and delicious, immediately making his mouth water for more. His face broke into a smile and he thanked Ellis, over and over, for the tasty meat. Ellis laughed. He knew how much Danny liked to eat meat. He said his last batch of biltong was supposed to be gifts for his brother's wedding, but the wedding was called off, so he got stuck with twenty pounds of it. 

"My brother was very sad that his girlfriend left him to sleep with another man." 

Ellis told Danny. 

"But I told my brother, mm-hmm, he should be happy that the bitch sleeps around now and not after they marry. Then he has to pay lawyers, and the alimony and child support. All his money would be gone. He sees what I mean. I made him smile with that, showed him the light, you know? I like to make people smile. Now I made you smile." 

He crossed his massive arms. 

"You go on now Danny-man. And be careful around those boys." 

His gaze shifted over to where Rich, Ronnie and Freddie sat together at the same table. 

"They are cowards. People think cowards are weak, right?" 

He shook his head. "Cowards are weak, but they are dangerous men! Danger-ous! They can't fight for themselves. They gang up on Benji-boy. Danger-ous man. Dangerous. You walk tall, Danny,, and they fear you. I see it in you." 

He smiled at Danny and chuckled knowingly to himself. 

"I see it in you, Danny-man. The blood of a Wolf! You are a wolf. The wolf feeds on the weak. Go. Eat your meat. Eat the weak. Grow strong. You are going home soon." 

Danny's smile faltered a little. Although Ellis' enthusiasm was based on goodwill, it was also a little embarrassing. He was just trying to keep a low profile, and here was a relative stranger praising him loudly. He wouldn't have minded so much if it hadn't also attracting attention.  

"I don't know Ellis. I sure hope so." He took another mouthful of Biltong beef.

"Yeahhh man! You are going home! Ellis knows, Ellis knows man." 

He tapped his temple, gave Danny a wink and grinned. the pointed, gold canine tooth shone in his mouth like a ray of sunshine.

"A little bird told me."

Danny could have sworn he said 'a little boar told me' but that couldn't be right.

People were looking, curious. No one ever talked to the cooks behind their serving line, it just never happened. Nobody even asked for extra gravy, or anything from the cooks. So an actual conversation was something to behold and judging from the dirty looks coming from Freddie and Rich, something to resent as well. 

Fortunately, the general din of the dining hall drowned out their voices, so nobody was able to hear what they were saying. Ellis had a natural ability to be discreet, talking quietly during lulls in background noise, so that no one would hear them talking anyway, even if they tried.

Danny sat at his table. Already missing the kinship with Benji. He wondered if he was okay, if he would ever be okay. His anger with Freddie bloomed. He vowed something would be done. With the short time he had left. Something. To make them a part of his plan. 

Those three dirtbags, Freddie, Rich and Ronnie. Yes, even Ronnie, who'd always just been Rich's tag-along and had otherwise kept to himself. He'd helped, though. He had helped Rich hold Benji while Freddie had first punched him in the stomach so hard Benji had suffered a lacerated liver. Then the punches to his face, first breaking his nose, his left orbital socket, then the third blow had broken Benji's jaw. He'd been unconscious (uncomshent), at that point. A dead weight to weakling Ronnie and they'd dropped him. That's when Freddie had begun kicking and stomping, doing the real damage, swelling of the brain, sending Benji deeper into the darkness and eventually comatose. 

If it hadn't been for Clark and his card-playing crew there to break it up, Freddie would probably have killed him. Which might have been for the best, considering Benji might never wake up now and if he did, he would never be the same. He knew all this, because Mike-boar was telling him. The boar was with him now most of the time. In his head. Usually he was quiet, apart from his munching sounds as he rooted for fungus, or tender shoots and the occasional blast of flatulence. 

But Mike-boar knew stuff and when Danny asked Mike-boar told. Unless it had to do with details of the future, the boar was a wealth of information and a welcome companion in his head, now that Danny was so close to the moon. He felt it over his right shoulder, waxing gibbous and cold bright. Cold as death the moon is. Cold and empty. Barren of life. 

Danny understood the curse now. In it, he felt closer to Old and Ugly, Jean Duhamel. He'd seen what Duhamel, former Captain of the guard, had seen too. From the time of his own evisceration by the beast of Gevaudin, to his most recent killing of Julie Gifford. How he'd swept her head from her shoulders in one powerful slash of his clawed hand. Duhamel had drank her blood while it pumped bright red from her carotid arteries. Deliberately fouling the precious life of an innocent and vital young woman. 

Danny had seen it all through Duhamel's eyes. The boar had shown him. There was no mercy in this curse. Danny also understood that Duhamel had to die for him to live. He wasn't afraid anymore and meant to kill Jean Duhamel at the first opportunity. After of course, Freddie and Rich and Ronnie had paid for everything they'd done. They had it coming and Danny could almost taste their blood. Hot, but sour and sick. He certainly could taste their fear of him. This was sharp and bitter, a toxic slurry. That's why they had left him alone these past couple days, they knew instinctively that something was wrong with him. They just didn't know what.

The three of them were sitting together and staring at him. Staring, threatening. The fools! Except Freddie, who had his back to Danny as usual and had only looked over once. 

Danny wanted to go and tap him on the shoulder. Make Freddie look him full in the face. Give him a little peek at what was coming. Because if they had been any closer, they would have seen the nasty expression Danny wore wasn't all, it was in fact a quiet growl and his teeth were sharp, silvery sharp. For the shredding of flesh to the bone, his jaws had a crushing strength of fifteen hundred pounds per square inch. 

It wasn't a full moon yet. Close, but it was already happening and it took every ounce of self control to keep from leaping over the table and finishing it now. Instead he stuffed more steaming meatloaf in his mouth and tore his killer's gaze away from Ronnie who looked like he might have just wet himself. 

He left his tray on the table this time and walked quickly from the dining hall. The heavy stainless steel serving spoon that he'd stolen from Ellis and hidden under his shirt, banged against his hip as he walked. His plan was already in motion. 

In his room he hid the spoon with its thick steel handle under his wolf sweatshirt in the built in shelves. He went to the common room to smoke a cigarette and talk to Clark at his card game. Clark gave Danny a serious look and jerked his head towards an empty chair. Danny passed cigarettes around the table and the patients accepted them gratefully. Clark offered to deal Danny in for a hand of Crazy Eights, Danny just shook his head, no thanks. Not today. 

Instead, he leaned close to Clark and said, 

"I'm going to be getting out of here soon, but I wanted to thank you and your friends for helping Benji."

Clark nodded and blinked, absorbed in his cards. He said out of the corner of his mouth, 

"He nebber killed his mom you know. He shoulda killed his dad bud he din't eiber, bud he nebber killed his mom. Benji's a good guy!" 

He looked at Danny with shining eyes.

Danny put his hand on Clark's shoulder, who relaxed under his touch. 

"I know Clark. I know. Now listen to me. If you hear any noise tomorrow night, in the middle of the night, I don't want you to worry. I think Freddie has something planned for me, but I can take care of myself."

Clark blinked rapidly behind his thick lenses and repeated Danny. 

"You can take care ub yourself. I'b not gointer worry Danny."

"Good. Good deal Clark."

"Good deal Danny. I'b gointer miss you Danny." Clark looked at Danny briefly.

"That's really nice of you to say Clark. and don't worry, you're going to be getting out of here soon too." 

Danny pulled out his pack of cigarettes and left the rest of them on the table for Clark and his friends. 

Clark looked at him intently, his eyes clearing and asked in all earnest. "How do you know dat Danny?" 

He knew instinctively that Danny had some kind of inside knowledge.

Danny knew because Mike-boar had told him. Danny asked and the boar told. Danny just said, 

"I asked a friend of mine and he said so. A little boar told me." 

He stood up and patted Clark on the back. 

"Remember what I said. Freddie's going to do something but I can take care of myself."

Clark smiled broadly with an inner light and said, 

"I know you can Danny. I know you can!"

As he left the common room he looked over at the sofa where Freddie, Rich and Ronnie were now clustered. Danny just smiled and walked calmly into the hall. He looked up and down, memorizing where everything was. The long hall was lined with patients' rooms, but all three guys, Freddie, Rich and Ronnie had their rooms in another corridor branching off the main hall. He'd been down there a few times already. There was a vending machine at the end of that hall and he'd used it as a pretense to scope out where their rooms were. He went down there now. There were no rules against him doing that and the halls were practically empty because the common room was open. A lone patient slid along the wall, talking to himself. 

When Danny passed him, he lowered his voice to a whisper and went back to talking to himself again, Danny was far enough away. Those conversations that a patient had with themselves were just as private and secret as if they were speaking with a lover. Danny pretended to show an interest in the candy bars and fumbled for some change, then turned away and went back down to the corner. Along the way he mentally marked the location of the three rooms that he'd be visiting the next night. 

He had the heavy stainless steel serving spoon that he'd taken from Ellis. The handle was strong enough to pry his door open and pop the lock. Once it was open, all he had to do was force the deadbolt back into the locking mechanism and close his door. It wouldn't be locked anymore but he doubted anyone would check. Since they all unlocked automatically on their own in the morning, nobody would be the wiser. He went back to his room and waited for meds call.

That night lining up for meds, he kept his head down, but noted that both Nurse Clay with his bent nose and the blonde-haired, blue eyed Nurse Tom were just starting their night shift, rather than finishing for the day. Their punishment from Doctor Rickert for toying with Danny's electroshock procedure. They knew just as well as Danny did that they'd had nothing to do with anything that went on that day. Danny had done something to the machine, they had no idea what it was and this infuriated them to no end. The shock that Danny had delivered to them afterwards had served as warning enough to not mess with him further. They'd tried to explain their innocence to Rickert, but Danny was sure that it wouldn't have made a difference anyway. Both Tito and the new orderly, Red, had been relegated to the day shift and so far, they were keeping a healthy distance from Danny as well. If he had to stay at the PAC for any longer than this, he might have enjoyed a certain amount of freedom from their oppression. That didn't matter now, because it was all coming to an end. 

  He wasn't sure how it was all going to play out, but he knew he was getting out soon. He could already smell the scent of the wildflowers in the fields, the fresh air of Glen Thomas and home. He didn't have to try to convince himself of this anymore, he had asked the boar and the boar had told him.  

   It was so close to the full moon, that very evening when Danny ran his tongue across his teeth, he could feel how sharp they'd become, even without the full moon in the sky yet and the transformation. At least now he had a better idea of what he would become, a werewolf yes, but he had wanted to know if he'd be like the kind from the movies? Would he be a wolfman standing upright in tattered pants, or a dog-like creature on four legs? What would he look like? What did Duhamel look like? 

When he asked the boar, surprisingly, the boar was able to tell him without being cryptic and riddlesome. The boar had shown him an image of something large and very heavy, with a stubby snout and prominent brow. Almost human features, but still too far removed to actually be human. Long, silvery and impossibly sharp fangs in a mouth that was dripping with toxic saliva and a long, shaggy brown pelt.  

It was a brief, yet horrible picture of something Danny couldn't even imagine possible. There was a lot of fear associated with this image and Danny supposed that it might be Mike's own fear from his attack, bleeding through and affecting an objective picture of what he was to become. The transformation thus far was subtle, but the telltale signs were visible and he had to be careful, keeping his hands concealed and his mouth closed as much as possible. There was no sense in trying to clip his pointed nails, since the nail clipper wouldn't cut them anyway. They were far too tough...he noticed their edges were also very sharp. Sharp enough to slice paper into ribbons like exacto blades. Several handfuls of paper ribbons were in his trash already, from trying out this interesting development..

When it was his turn for meds, he stepped up to the desk at the end of the hall and took the cup of pills from Nurse Christie. She had a funny look on her face and took a couple steps back from Danny. After he pretended to swallow the pills, he offered to open his mouth and show her, but she hurriedly shook her head and waved him away. When he turned to go back to his room both Clay and Tom gave him a wide berth. They looked nervous and wouldn't meet his eyes. What a delight!

That night when he dreamt of the boar, he was outside of the clearing and stood in a wide meadow full of wildflowers and tall grass. Instead of talking to Danny and rooting in the earth, Mike-boar ran through the field instead, cavorting with the three deer like nubile spring born babes. Tossing their heads and kicking up their hooves. Julie stood by herself a little ways off with her head held in the crook of her arm. A few times she had tried to put it back on her shoulders in some semblance of normalcy, but it kept falling off. Finally she had given up, brushing weeds and flower petals from her hair before tucking it under her arm. 

She didn't say a word to Danny this time. Danny was happy about that. He didn't want to see her lips moving and hear the words coming from her severed head. The dream was surreal enough without that. If it was supposed to have any specific meaning, it was lost on Danny. Maybe there was nothing to it and the animals were just having fun. He recalled the words from the Flinstone's theme song, 'We'll have a gay old time!' He supposed that's just what they were doing.

Saturday August 11th, 1984 - Full Sturgeon Moon

When he woke the morning of the full moon he was aware that his nerves were sizzling with anticipation and anxiety. He went to the little bathroom and checked himself out in the mirror. He looked normal enough and there didn't appear to be any more physical changes with his body.. The only thing he noticed were his eyes had a strange cast to them. They looked angry. Dangerous even. As if he was about to lash out at someone or something. No matter how much he smiled at himself in the mirror, he couldn't change that look in his eye. Oh well. He thought to himself. That just might be helpful for keeping people at bay. His teeth still had that uncharacteristic point to them, it would be best if no one got too close to him today. He washed his face and brushed his hair, noting that it seemed to be getting long. He wondered if that was an effect of the moon, or if it had more to do with the fact that he didn't like getting haircuts anyway.

He ate breakfast, sausages and bacon and went for morning meds. Afterwards, he went to his room to add the pills to his collection and put the carefully wrapped package in his front pocket again. Then he was required to go see Dr. Rickert for an appointment. His heart beat against his ribs the entire time. He needn't have worried, though. Rickert just reviewed his assessment with him and asked a few questions about how he'd been feeling. Danny faked his way through the appointment and left sweaty palm prints on the arms of the chair when he left. He feared that Rickert was going to bring up the fighting between him and Rich and somehow tie Benji's beating into it as well, jeopardizing his release. 

Apparently, either the fights had been kept hush-hush because it made the orderlies look bad, or he just didn't want to admit the PAC had problems that were beyond his clinical abilities. Either way, the appointment was brief and the doctor congratulated Danny on his swift 'recovery' and sent him on his way. Things were looking up in that department at least.

He ate lunch quickly, sitting with Clark and his friends. Safety in numbers. He was well aware that Freddie, Rich and Ronnie were watching him like hungry hyenas the entire time, but he pretended not to notice. Instead he told dirty jokes at the table, trying to remember every one he knew. By the time lunch was finished, he had Clark and his crew roaring with laughter. They begged him to keep them company outside for their crazy eights tournament, he politely declined though and retired to his room instead. He had something to do first before going out to the yard. 

 In his room he closed the door and went into the tiny bathroom with the package of pills that he had saved up. With the bathroom door shut he opened the paper wrapped wad of pills and spread them out on the back of the toilet. There were two types. The small blue round ones were the sleepers and the pale green oval ones were antipsychotics that turned you into a drooling idiot if you took too many. Both types had their effects greatly magnified when taken with alcohol. He took one of the green ones and held it on his tongue for a few seconds to get the taste of it. It was slightly bitter, so he separated them from the blue ones. The blue ones had no taste whatsoever and just made his tongue a bit numb. 

He put them in a pile and crushed them to powder with the handle of his hairbrush. He added four of the pale green ones just to be safe and crushed them the same way, mixing the powder together into one fairly large pile. He flushed the remaining green ones and scooped the pile of powder back into the paper, which he neatly folded into a little envelope. He put the envelope back into his front pocket and wiped the residue off the back of the toilet using some damp toilet paper. 

He looked at the floor and toilet tank, double checking. There was no trace left of what he'd just done. Then he left his room and went out the back door into the yard. Hoping he'd be able to complete his next task without any trouble. Tito and Red were on duty and although they didn't care for Danny, they didn't have a personal beef with him like Clay and Tom did. They also weren't in the habit of sneaking swigs of liquor when out on a smoke break. They weren't even aware of Clayton and Tom's little stash behind the bushes at the far end of the building, but Danny didn't want to draw attention to it either. He needed a diversion. He thought for a minute and devised a plan that should work. 

He'd use his new found powers to round up a bunch of hornets from under the crab apple tree and have them swarm Ronnie. Then with Ronnie and company waving away the swarm of yellow jackets, it would be enough of a diversion for Danny to take a quick stroll to the end of the building. 

He concentrated and the golden thread wavered in the air at first. Then he started to appreciate the hornets with their quick little legs and twitching antennae. All so very busy, sampling the sugars from the fermenting crab apples. They were kinda cute if they didn't sting so much. The thread solidified into a very thin straight line, that only he could see. He played around with it for a bit, until it led from the shade of the tree and all the busy hornets eating the fallen, rotten fruit in the grass, to Ronnie...

Ronnie, who'd sexually molested his nine year old cousin and then tried to strangle her when she wouldn't put out for him. Ronnie, Rich's little tag along lap dog. Ronnie who'd helped hold Benji's arms while fuckhead Freddie had punched him hard enough to break his nose, shatter his orbital and break his jaw. Ronnie the piece of shit who, by himself, wasn't worth spit and had to hang out with other assholes who were hardly tougher than he was, but made up for their lack of courage and strength in numbers. 

Danny's anger was flooding his senses and the effort to round up more than thirty yellow jackets was minimal. He stood just outside the door to the yard, in the bright sunshine. His hands were opening and closing into tight fists and his breathing had become harsh and ragged. Tito and Red were about twenty feet away engaged in stupid conversation and didn't notice Danny or the golden shimmer of his eyes. Danny didn't care about them anyway, he was focused on the cloud of hornets. He could see them from where he stood, a dark cloud of angry bombinate energy. They hung together, hovering in the shade of the crab apple tree waiting for him to direct them to their target. 

By then, the three of them at their picnic table, Freddie, Rich and Ronnie had noticed Danny standing there, staring at them like some stunned idiot. They glared back at him with expressions of open hate. They were unaware of what was about to happen. Freddie even made a move as if to stand up. Maybe to come and thump Danny, but Rich stayed him by grabbing his arm. Freddie sat back down and the next second the hornets were on Ronnie. They covered his face stinging relentlessly. 

Ronnie's initial choked sob of surprise, wound higher into a siren scream. Ululating at a soprano pitch, it quickly became ear piercing shrieks of blinding pain. He pawed his face desperately, but they avoided being crushed and instead landed stinging on the backs of his hands. They stung the insides of his ears, on his lips and eyelids. They crawled under the collar of his shirt and repeatedly stung his neck. 

With every shriek, another wasp found it's way inside his mouth and they stung the inside of his cheeks. He drew in a great gasping breath and inhaled a couple large yellow jackets that stung the inside of his throat as well. His screaming instantly died into a garbled cry of horror. Gurgling and coughing he fell from the picnic table kicking and jack-knifing in the grass. Rich and Freddie weren't immune from the hornet's wrath either and were getting stung on their arms and shoulders as the swarm spread out. 

Tito and Red rushed to the scene and that was all Danny needed. He walked quickly, invisibly, along the wall of the PAC towards the far end, where the evergreen bushes were planted. He went completely unnoticed since all eyes were on the crazy scene unfolding on the lawn. The wasps went haywire, crawling all over Ronnie and stinging him everywhere through his clothing while he vomited on Tito's brand new, white leather running shoes...

Danny made it to the bushes and crouched down looking for Clay and Tom's bottle of whiskey. His heart almost stopped. It was gone. They must have finished it, he thought despairingly. Then he noticed some brown paper poking out from behind a thick cedar branch. He pulled it out and found a full bottle of vodka with only a little bit missing. They must have wised up a little, it was harder to smell vodka on your breath than it was rye whiskey. 

He smiled to himself and took the paper envelope of powdered pills from his pocket. He unscrewed the cap and very carefully unfolded the paper and dumped it's contents into the bottle. He put the cap back on and shook it vigorously. It was good that it was in a paper bag, that was much better in fact. If there was any undissolved powder at the bottom of the bottle they wouldn't even see it. He replaced the bottle behind the cedar branch and scooted out from under the bushes. Quickly getting to his feet, he hurried along the wall, back to where the action was still going on.

Freddie and Rich stood as far from Ronnie as possible. Horrified and standing together like timid lovers, they took cover near the fence and way back, past the rose bushes, safe from the stinging bees. They had their own welts to deal with and didn't want to end up like Ronnie.

By now Tito and Red had gotten themselves stung several times each, just trying to drag Ronnie clear of the swarm. However the swarm weren't going anywhere until Danny said so. Every time a wasp was killed with the slap of a hand or crushed under foot, it was automatically replaced by another fresh one from the crab apple tree and whatever hornets nest was nearest. Apparently there were at least a couple nests of the paper wasps nearby, because the population of the swarm was just as strong as when Danny had originally sicced them on Ronnie. 

There was probably a nest under the eaves of the PAC building and maybe one behind the rose bushes. Because they were steadily getting killed, yet immediately being replaced. He decided to have mercy on the yellow jackets and drew a quick golden net around them with his mind, sending the swarm back to their rotting crab apples under the tree. Instantly they were all gone.

Ronnie was in bad shape. He was still squirming on the ground and his shrieks had evolved into a pathetic mewling. His face was a horror show. His cheeks and forehead were bumpy and cratered with stings. His eyes were swollen shut and leaking fluid. Clear snot, streaked with blood, ran from both nostrils, over lips resembling cirrhotic liver. Mucous hung from his chin in shiny ribbons. His hands were puffed up like cartoon ballons. Useless. Tito was making an effort to lift him from the ground and get him inside to the infirmary. Red was trying to pick a hornet from his beard and swearing a blue streak as he was repeatedly stung in his palm. That last straggler of the angry swarm. 

Danny was awed by the carnage and a little bit thrilled too. The power he'd drawn from the swarm while controlling it, had left him with a warm fuzzy feeling. He could feel the residual power inside him and it didn't seem to be fading either. It took him a couple minutes of standing and staring to realize he was smiling at the pitiful scene before him. Tito looked up from his struggle with the stricken Ronnie. Seeing Danny standing there smiling, he yelled out to him. 

"A little help here huh?!" 

Danny just waved at him and kept watching. Hey this was supposed to be a nut house after all, remember? He didn't think anyone there was feeling quite as nutty as he was at that moment. His diversion had worked perfectly. He recalled a line from the A-Team that the character known as Face used to say once every show. 'I love it when a plan comes together!' He felt himself shaking with laughter, but couldn't stop. Then he remembered another famous line from the show regarding said plan. 'It's so crazy it just might work!' He could have peed himself it was that funny.

 Some of the other patients saw him laughing and started laughing themselves. It was contagious. Tito's face was red with frustration and lumpy with bee stings and now he was yelling for Red to help him carry Ronnie. 'Goddammit!' Ronnie was propped up against Tito and Tito had Ronnie's arm slung around his shoulder. Ronnie was gasping for air and clearly suffering from the toxins delivered by all those wasp stings. His bowels loosed liquid feces and he urinated on Tito at the same time, Piss darkened the front of his trousers and everything else ran down his leg. 

The grass wet and slick now, Tito's foot shot out from under him. In order to brace his fall with both hands, he shoved Ronnie off to the side when he slipped. Ronnie's limp body crumpled under it's own weight and his forehead clipped a picnic table on the way down, opening a deep red gash that bled like a river. Blood mingled with snot, urine and grass. Ronnie moaned, vomiting weakly on the lawn, smelling of fouled shorts. Red pulled Tito to his feet and the both of them cursing, managed to hoist bleeding, stinking, swollen Ronnie upright and drag him indoors. On their way in, Tito called over his shoulder to the patients, 

"Fuckin' show's over! I want everybody in their goddam rooms right now. Right NOW!"

 His voice cracked with fury on the last word. The residents moved slowly towards the doors muttering their displeasure. Danny still smiling, stopped at the door and raised his hands in the air. The patients gaped at him. Appealing for them to just listen for a minute, Danny rallied the troops, reminding them of what just happened. The crowd's mood turned once more, swelling with good humour as Danny replayed the highlights for them. When he spoke of how Ronnie had pissed and shit himself at the end, just before clipping the picnic table with his head, a few scattered cheers were heard. Danny did a little shuffling dance, then turned and still smiling broadly, led a lighter cheerier ward of patients inside. A few of them even patted him on the back. The day was his.

Everyone went quietly back to their rooms, More so from Danny's calm governance than Tito's angry demands. It wasn't that big of a deal anyway. It was only a couple hours until dinner anyhow. After the excitement in the yard, the residents were comfortable just hanging out in their rooms until it was time to eat. Some of them even strayed over to the common room, to smoke, watch tv and play cards, against Tito's orders, but still bolstered by Danny's confidence. 

Danny hung out in his room, standing in front of the thick wire meshed window. He was watching the groundskeeper sweeping the yard, looking for bees, armed with a large can of wasp blaster. He wasn't able to find a single one. Not even a lone bumble bee buzzed amongst the flowers. Danny had sent them away for now, over the fence and into some neighbouring residential yards, where the flower gardens were just as sweet. He'd bring them back after the groundskeeper had left, but for now, they had done something for him, so the least he could do was return the favour. 

Danny watched the groundskeeper a little longer, hunting high and low for a wasp, anything else flying, or crawling for that matter, just so he could spray it with his wasp blaster. There was nothing. Confused, he looked in the branches of the crab apple tree, along the fence line and up in the heights of the massive maples bordering the property. There wasn't even a single bird for him to take target practice on. Danny had driven every living thing clear of his chemical warfare. He didn't blame the groundskeeper, who was just acting on orders, but he wasn't going to let him kill anything either.

Eventually though, the guy gave up. Scratching his head he shrugged, then put the cap back onto the can of spray. He disappeared around the side of the building, through the locked gate where the equipment shed was. Gradually the birds and insects reappeared in the garden and went about their business.

At dinner that night Danny sat at his lonely table in the far corner. He took his customary spot, facing outwards towards Rich and Freddie's table and the windows behind them. With Ronnie in the infirmary they looked lonely and dejected, but still pissed off. Normally he would have been facing Benji, but Benji wasn't there. He had been transferred from the infirmary, still comatose, to one of the big city hospitals with state of the art equipment allowing them to scan Benji's brain. They had found two separate bleeds and had drilled into his skull to install a tube for drainage, relieving the pressure on his brain.

Rich and Freddie continued staring at him anyway and he found himself fighting an overwhelming urge, to tear the heavy wire mesh off the window frame and pitch them both through the glass from the second story, into the parking lot below. Seconds later, the desire was gone, like a sudden and unexpected cramp. He was left amazed at himself, he'd never had a penchant for violence like this. He wasn't even the type to carry a grudge. Ever since he'd found Mike's mutilated body on the railroad tracks though, he'd felt it building. No that wasn't right either. He needed to admit that it was ever since he'd cut his thumb with Mike's pocket knife. 

The knife that had been polluted with Duhamel's blood and had infected Danny. An infection making him sick and feverish at first, then imparting him with a powerful curse, or more accurately a rabies like virus, at least several centuries old, activated by the gravitational pull of the full moon

. 

Danny pictured the blade in his head. The knife was fashioned with a heavy bone handle. It had just the one long, gently curving blade, that folded out and locked with a little click. In order to close it, there was a raised steel tab you pressed to release the blade. It had been very sharp. Hand whetted by a mechanic's son, honed to a razor's edge with deliberate purpose. The knife's blade had been covered in Duhamel's black sticky blood. Mike had struck a blow. A deep one too, right into his neck. Danny felt a vicious surge of pride for Mike. He'd at least been able to fight back that night and not just been slaughtered like a lamb.

When Danny had led the cops, Bell and Sam, back to Mike's body and he'd found the knife, it had been open. Danny had imagined the handle still slightly warm from when Mike had gripped it during battle. But that was probably just his imagination. Later when he'd cut himself, getting infected, it had spread through his body attacking his nervous system, his glands and brain, his muscles and vital organs. It spread and spread infecting his entire body with it's alien virus. It's ancient curse.

That was the point then, at which it had started to fully develop in his body. Disguised at first as a need for answers and justice for Mike's murder. Then gradually after his first encounter with the old man and his night of illness and fever, he'd known the truth. It had matured into a deep rooted hatred of Duhamel, but not just Duhamel. Danny had now observed that his hatred was not an exclusive thing. He could hate other's just as much. 

He hated Freddie the big stink, the head stomper of the defenseless. He hated nasty, scrawny Rich, the killer of a grandmother and baby birds. He even hated wimpy Ronnie, molester and strangler of nine year old girls, he hated them all with the same angry passion. At this stage of the curse it was the strongest he'd ever felt it. 

It wasn't even a matter of 'self righteousness'. That's when you feel morally superior, yet don't act on it.This was a case of driven righteousness. Perhaps of vigilanteism. Rather than uncontrolled blood lust, he was hoping to direct it towards someone who deserved it...hoping that is.

The moon was circling the earth right now, full and bright. Ready to appear on the horizon, fat and deadly. A pale venomous blob. A large white, deadly spider, swollen with poison and hate. Climbing higher and higher, before it's backdrop of stars into the night sky. Weaving a lunatic web of fear, readying itself to ensnare it's panicky victims for the beast to bleed. Danny felt it building and his hatred was infectious too, that's what the problem was, spreading to every fiber of his being. Although with Duhamel it had run deeper, as deep as marrow. 

...Soon Danny soon...

He heard Mike-boar say in his head. 

Yeah, no shit Mike! I know okay? I fuckin' know...and I'm scared. I've never felt like this before. One minute I wanna kill everyone, the next minute I'm fine.

...that's the nature of it Danny...just the nature of it...but think now...who do you wanna kill...exactly who...do you wanna kill Ellis...do you wanna kill Benji...focus your hate on Ellis right now...see if you can bring yourself to leaping over the counter and tearing his throat out...could you do it...

Danny considered it. Then he did what Mike-boar suggested and tried to focus his hate on Ellis. He looked up from his meal of thick ham steaks and stared at Ellis. Hard. He tried to imagine rending him limb from limb. Spilling his hot blood, a dark, slick pool spreading out over the kitchen floor, while Ellis lay on his back, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. His last dying, agonal breaths. Ellis looked up from behind a steam table at Danny and his eyes went wide, as if he sensed danger. 

Nope. Danny couldn't. He just couldn't. It was awful. It was awful and it was wrong. He shook his head and the horrible thoughts blew away like so much dust on the wind. Ellis visibly relaxed and Danny smiled at him. A-Ok! Thankfully, Ellis smiled back. Danny went back to eating his ham. Comforted by the knowledge that people like Ellis, people who were generally good, were going to be safe from his wrath during a full moon. Not one person was infallible however. Nobody was perfect. That was just fact and of course we can all live with that knowledge. 

Some people were inherently bad though too. We all know that it was also just a fact of life. So maybe he wouldn't just go on a mindless killing rampage every full moon. That had been his biggest fear and why he'd been practicing control. He didn't want to hurt anyone who didn't deserve it. Like a family member for instance. The thought of hurting a family member during a full moon had been unbearably painful. That didn't mean he couldn't kill, or wouldn't kill, it just meant...but Danny didn't know what it meant. He'd probably come very close to killing Ronnie today with that wasp attack. And if Ronnie had been allergic to bee stings he would have killed him. But...but what? 

Again Danny didn't know what. There was something there that failed his reasoning. Hurting Ronnie had felt good, it had felt right. although it had primarily just been useful as a diversion, if Danny had been able to put his hands on Ronnie without any interference, he was sure Ronnie would undoubtedly be dead by now. That's what the moon was doing to him, as it cycled closer and closer to his reality. He sank his teeth into a large chunk of ham that he cut from one of the steaks and the hot salty juices squirted into his mouth providing brief ecstasy. He moaned with the enjoyment of it and it must have been loud because Ellis beamed at him and gave him a thumbs up. Danny grinned and gave him a thumbs-up back. Freddie and Rich just glared. 

Danny drank the last of his milk and stood up to go. On his way out, he shelved his tray in the rack and nodded at Ellis. Strolling into the hall, he almost ran smack into Tito, who stood side by side with Red...Jeez...These guys! Always running into them when he didn't want to...