Chapter 14 - Just a dream

Monday, September 3rd, 1984.

The next week went quickly. Everything seemed to be about going back to school. They had to get 'back to school clothes'. They had to get new gym shoes. His three brothers all got their hair cut for back to school. Danny didn't want to. He liked it long and shaggy, so his parents didn't push it.

Before they knew it, they were sitting in homeroom getting their class schedules. They had hooked up with friends they hadn't seen since before summer and some just occasionally over the holidays. Danny's friends wanted to know what he'd been doing for the past month. They hadn't seen him in Eastbrook since he'd found Mike's body. There were rumours that he'd been arrested. He figured they must be coming from Gord Bennett, since his brothers had been sworn to secrecy.

Most of the people who didn't know were shocked when they heard about Mike Vansickle and Julie Gifford. There was yet another local teenage girl who had gone missing back in the middle of May, before school had let out, but they were only hearing about it now. She had never been found. The cops originally suspected she had run away. There'd been problems at home. Danny had other ideas about her disappearance.

Part of Danny was kind of glad to be back at school, happy for a little bit of normalcy and structure. The other part was getting stressed out again. Another full moon was just around the corner and he knew what he had to do. He didn't think he could wait another month. Duhamel wouldn't wait another month either. He'd started having nightmares about him again.

It had been weeks since he'd heard from Mike-boar, but he was back now and starting to appear in his sleep again, too, including these funny, brief little daydreams that would catch Danny off guard. One minute he'd be sitting and thinking or doing some menial task; the next thing he'd be talking to Mike-boar and whatever he'd been doing was forgotten. A couple of times, Kevin had caught him talking to Mike-boar and assumed he'd been talking to himself. He was worried about Danny's mental state and asked him what they'd done to him while he was in the psych center. Danny confided in him about the electroshock treatments, but at the same time, reassured Kevin that he felt totally normal and there was nothing for him to worry about. Lots of people talk to themselves, he pointed out. Kevin left it alone.

Mike-boar started showing up more frequently and Danny's anxiety grew as each day passed.

On Thursday night, September 6th, just four days before the next full moon, he had the same nightmare: Duhamel came as a werewolf to Glen George to start laying waste to the village and families. This time, though, Mike-boar was there, the tables were turned and the village appeared untouched. Duhamel hadn't started his bloodthirsty rampage yet. Strangely, his parents were even watching from the sofa on the porch. He saw them wave to him. The sky was mostly dark, save for the full moon leering down. The night was a patchwork of desultory clouds, frayed by lightning and thunder. No rain fell, but Danny's face and hair were wet. Danny thought it might be sweat at first, but when he wiped his forehead with his hand, it came away slick and red, with fresh blood of no consequence.

Duhamel stood in the middle of the road, hulking and threatening. A grinding, gnashing noise filled Danny's ears and it took him a second to realize it was the sound of the werewolf's teeth. Silver sparks flew from its face as it ground its fangs together. Mouth working like a machine, razor teeth in process, end product death.

Danny seemed to be standing taller than normal; he was almost looking down on the maniacal werewolf. When he looked about, he learned why. He was sitting astride Mike-boar as if it were a pony ride at the fair, but Mike-boar was enormous. Larger than Duhamel. His tusks were so big they curved up and back, ending in sharp points level with his eyes. Danny could see the serrated edge, tight and compact like a bonesaw. His breath puffed out in clouds of steam, or smoke, he couldn't be sure. The boar's back and shoulders were so wide that it was difficult to straddle him. He had to practically lie down on his front, clutching the folds of its bristly hide.

Mike-boar was saying something to Duhamel, but Danny couldn't understand what, since it was in French. Whatever it was, it was pissing the werewolf off to no extent. Danny wanted to tell Mike-boar to shut up, that he was going to get them all killed and if Duhamel won, he'd destroy the village, slaughtering everyone in it. But the noise of the thunder, the crackle of lightning, and the piercing squeal of horrible gnashing teeth was so cacophonous he could barely hear his own voice.

He could hear Mike-boar speaking perfect French at the monster, though. Shaming him. Mocking him. Accusing him and damning him all at the same time, all in his native language. Duhamel looked ready to attack, his eyes boiling in an ugly light, but Mike-boar made the first move. A false charge. His hooves tore into the asphalt as he lunged like a rocket sled, then dug in his hooves, coming to a stop so abruptly that Danny had to hold onto the coarse hair around the boar's massive head to prevent him from flying headfirst over the boar and ending up at Duhamel's clawed feet.

Mike-boar laughed at Duhamel's expression; he'd seen a brief glimpse of fear at his mock charge. His laugh was incredibly loud and deep, spraying drool and mucus ahead of him, but when he stopped, it was almost silent. Duhamel's teeth were finally still and the lightning had ceased. Only a distant peal of rolling thunder remained, fading into the hills around Glen George.

Then Mike-boar spoke in English to Duhamel. "I made you flinch!"

If the dream weren't so horrific, Danny might have found it amusing.

"Hold on, Danny." He said. "Here he comes!"

Duhamel attacked. He came in low and fast like a wolf, trying to take out the boar's legs. If he took out its legs, the boar and the boy on its back would be easy pickings, but Mike-boar anticipated this and went low himself, his right tusk tearing through Duhamel's thigh with ease. Blood, black and thick, pulsed from the wound. Duhamel roared and leaped away, stumbling as he realized he'd lost some mobility in that leg. Furious, his eyes glowed with that bad light. Neither Danny nor the boar met his hypnotic gaze and Mike-boar circled Old and Ugly's flank where he was undefended.

Duhamel whirled and lurching with incredible speed and agility, went high this time, going for the boar's throat. The boar ducked its chin, protecting its neck from the strike of Duhamel's fangs. Although the werewolf struck with purchase and left a gaping red hole showing Mike-boar's collar bone, he missed the artery. Mike-boar, however, had sunk both tusks into Duhamel's gut and ripped upwards in the strike. Twin tracks of gore showed where the tusks had instantly cut a swath through the werewolf's tough skin; the deeper wound left a loop of intestine bulging free, shining in the moonlight. Growling, Duhamel stuffed it back in and retreated.

His teeth were gnashing again; Mike-boar's blood was smeared around his mouth. He was badly injured, though and had a hard time standing with his damaged leg. A closer look showed that much of the thigh muscle was uselessly hanging from a few scraps of hide. That loop of intestine had popped free again too, bringing with it a few more feet of fresh bowel this time. Ignoring it and breathing heavily, he looked for an opportunity to strike again. If he could get in close, his teeth would do the rest if he could get to an artery, preferably the carotid.

This time, though, Mike-boar attacked with a full charge. Without stopping, he easily trampled Duhamel. Bringing his hard cloven hooves up high, he hit him in the chest and crushed him flat on his back, deliberately stamping on his face as he passed over top of the prone werewolf. Surprisingly, Duhamel squealed, both in pain and rage. He was beaten and he knew it. The boar was not going to spare him and could easily destroy his body and head now. Pummel him into paste. Duhamel struggled to get to his feet, getting tangled in his own intestines in the process. It was pitiful to watch, but Danny felt elation. Duhamel was no match for the power of Mike-boar. He was flooded with relief and joy; it was over and everything could go back to normal.

He slid from Mike-boar's bare back and waited for the boar to give the finishing blow.

Just then, he saw something...

Danny knew they'd won, but...

There was one more thing...

One more terrible surprise...

He saw Carrie bouncing into the scene. She was so happy they'd won the battle. She was fresh-looking in her faded denim shorts and white blouse. She had a blue ribbon loosely tying her blonde hair back and she was smiling at Danny, her arms open for a hug. Her lips shiny with lip gloss. He could smell her airy perfume from where he stood.

He wanted to say "No!"

He wanted so badly to warn her that it wasn't over; Mike-boar just needed to finish it off.

He wanted to scream "Wait!" but he was frozen and so was Mike-boar.

Carrie's brother stared aghast as his sister bopped right into the danger zone with eyes for Danny and nothing else. Danny saw the boar's jaw drop open, maybe to say something, but it was too late. Nothing came out. What happened next was so sickening, it defined the dream in an instant, changing it from victorious to horrific so completely, Danny groaned in his sleep...

Duhamel staggered to his feet and with the last of his remaining strength, pulled his intestines from the channel rent in his abdomen. Hand over hand, he pulled them out of his own body, with the sound of wetness. They were mottled dark grey, stinking, dripping black gore. Whirling them above his head like a lariat in an old western movie, he threw a loop with casual ease over Carrie's head and pulled her to him in an instant. It was ridiculous. It was repulsive, but he had her.

Screaming, she fought to remove the slick, ropy coil from her neck and that's when he leaned in and just tore out her throat with his razor fangs. He let her trembling body slide to the ground as she bled out, and sickeningly, he laughed at Danny, howling and spraying her blood at him from his mouth as he did.

Mike-boar broke from his trance and roaring with rage so loud it hurt Danny's ears, he rushed Duhamel in a flash of hooves and rippling muscle. The ground shook. The werewolf went down under cloven hooves again and this time Mike-boar grabbed its entire head in his jaws and crushed it with a powerful pop and a crunch of skull plates. The mess of its head fit in his mouth neatly, so he ate it right from the body, leaving a headless corpse that he trampled and pawed in a blind fury until there was nothing left but flattened skin and rent pieces of flesh on a large patch of black, stinking grease, mixed with chunks of shattered asphalt, the remains staining the road.

From the porch, Danny's parents cheered and clapped. He heard his mother console him over the loss of Carrie.

"Don't worry, Danny, there are plenty of fish in the sea. You'll find someone new."

His heart imploded and he woke up sobbing and choking for a breath of air. His face still wet, but now with tears. The blood was gone and he told himself everything was okay. Just a bad dream. Carrie is fine. Safe and sound, sleeping peacefully in her bed. Unhurt and beautiful. He got up and drank some water from the tap. Peed and went back to bed with the light on. Relieved but horrified. It took several minutes to recover from the nightmare. Telling himself that everything was fine. Peachy keen and totally normal. Nothing was wrong and everything was right, for now at least.