A Night in the Lonesome October Read online

«Keep lying in the road and some cart will come along and give you your wish. Better get over to the side. Here, I'll help.»

  I carried the ailing reptile into the brush.

  «What should I do, Snuff?» he asked.

  «Lie in the sun and sweat it out,» I told him. «Drink lots of liquids.»

  «I don't know if it's worth it.»

  «You'll feel better later. Trust me.»

  I left him moaning atop a rock. I went on home, entered, and dragged myself through my rounds. The master was not in. I went and slept in the parlor, woke and ate, dozed again.

  Later, I heard Jack's footsteps approaching the front door. He was accompanied, I knew from the footfalls, by Larry Talbot. They halted outside, continuing a discussion which must have been ongoing as they'd walked. It seemed they had just come from Constable Terence's office, where they'd been invited, in the company of a number of other neighbors, for questioning by city police concerning the missing officer I'd been dragging through fields. I gathered that another neighborhood group had followed them in, to continue the investigation. So far as I felt just then, they could have what was left of the man.

  «… And Vicar Roberts, sitting there, glaring at everyone, as if we'd all done it,» Larry was saying. «What right had that man at an official investigation? He's more than a little dotty.»

  «Fortunately,» Jack responded. «Otherwise, someone might pay more heed to his notions.»

  «True,» Larry said. «If anyone had to be done in, he'd seem the best choice.»

  «Then they would give some credence to his vision.»

  «Of course.» There followed a sigh. «I'm just venting a little spleen at those who make difficult things more difficult.» He sighed again. Then, «I noted he hadn't his crossbow with him,» he added.

  «Now that would have raised a few eyebrows.»

  They both chuckled.

  «Larry,» Jack said suddenly. «I confess that I really don't understand your part in this. That you are knowledgeable is obvious, that you know what you are doing, I am certain, and that you've been helpful, I can't deny. And I am grateful for it. But you haven't apparently been collecting the items necessary to assemble a structure of power to be focused one way or the other. Now, I admit that when you came out that first day and as much as proclaimed yourself a closer, I thought it a bit gauche. But even that, I suspect now, had a method to it. Still, so far as I can tell, you have done nothing that would further that end, let alone assemble defenses against the days ahead. If this be true, you are inviting disaster by announcing affiliation and continuing to reside in the precincts of the Game.»

  «You are the only one I've told, Jack,» Larry replied.

  «Why?»

  «I've met most of the others, of course. But there was something about you, perhaps it had to do with the dog, that assured me I was safe in revealing my persuasion. I've told you that anticipation is my forte.»

  «But your role in things, sir! What is it?»

  «I never tell anybody everything. It might influence their actions and affect those things I've anticipated. Then I'd have to start over again, and it might be too late.»

  «I confess you've almost lost me, but I can feel some rationale behind your words. Tell me what you would then, when you would.»

  «Assuredly.»

  I heard their palms strike together as they clasped hands, then Larry's retreating footsteps.

  Later, I went back to drag things along a little farther. I'd come to a place where the ground was mushy, and it was awful. He kept catching on brambles and getting knotted up in fallen branches and stuck between hillocks. He may have lost a few pieces in that area but I was too tired to look. Finally, I just gave up and went home. It was near noon, and chances were we'd be going out again that night, it being the Eve and all. I needed my rest.

  On the way back, I looked for Quicklime on his stone, but he was nowhere in sight. There was a very twisty trail leading away, though.

  Graymalk was waiting on the tree's most popular branch, on my return. I noted that the pierced bat was missing, though the quarrel was still in place.

  «Snuff,» she asked, climbing down, «have you done it yet?»

  «Don't ask me,» I said. «This is proving a major undertaking.»

  «I'm sorry,» she said, «but I was at the constable's this morning with the mistress, and I heard all the talk…»

  «What did they say?»

  «That they knew he came here and they know he didn't come back, and they won't leave a horse pie unturned till they find him or know what happened to him. Things like that.»

  «Oh. Nothing new. How did the questioning go?»

  «Fine, with us. The mistress did her crazy act and talked about him being carried off by fairies for a changeling. They had to ask her to be still. Rastov suddenly understood a lot less English than he used to. Morris and MacCab were very polite and said they knew nothing. Jack was quite urbane and seemed very sympathetic but also had nothing to add. The Good Doctor was indignant that the quiet hamlet he'd sought to do his research should suddenly be violated by things he'd wanted to get away from. Larry Talbot said he'd never seen the man. Owen said that they'd talked but he hadn't seen him again after that, and didn't know where he'd gone after he'd left him. He may have been the last to see him, though, according to a rough schedule the officer'd mentioned to the constable.»

  «What of the vicar?»

  «He just said that someone was lying, to cover the Devil's work, and he'd find out who.»

  I rolled in a dry patch of grass and removed a thorn with my teeth.

  «So how far along are you?» she asked.

  «Perhaps two-thirds of the way. I've come to a bad area.»

  «They'll likely search around here first, then work their way outwards. So you should still have some time.»

  «That's a comfort. You going out tonight?»

  «Probably.»

  «Tomorrow it dies. No hard feelings, however things go.»

  «No.»

  «I found a big patch of catnip on my way to the river. If we both get through this, I'll buy you a drink.»

  «Thanks.»

  She stretched. I stretched and yawned. We nodded to each other and went our ways.

  October 17

  Soon it begins. Today is the day of the New Moon. The power will rise till the night of its fullness, on the thirty-first, the combination which brings us together. And with the rising we begin our work, that which draws us apart. The days ahead will be interesting, as the openers and closers reveal themselves by their actions. Last night may have represented a final act of cooperation.

  Jack wanted to visit a cemetery for a few final ingredients. He decided upon a distant, isolated one we had been to once before. He went on horseback, bearing a spade and bull's-eye lantern, and I trotted along beside.

  He tethered his horse amid some trees outside the graveyard, and we went in on foot. It was, of course, a very dark night. But with the aid of the lantern we quickly located an appropriately secluded plot of recent turning. Jack set to work immediately, and I went about my watching.

  It was a pleasantly mild evening for October, with a few bats flitting by, bright stars overhead. I heard footsteps in the distance, but they were not headed in our direction and I saw no cause for alarm. I patrolled our small area in an almost leisurely fashion. After a time, something very large passed overhead, descending. It did not land nearby, however, nor make any movement to approach us. A bit later, something equally large passed, again, descending, though in a different area than the first, and, again, making no overtures toward us, and I remained alert but voiced no warning. I heard horses on the trail a little after that, sounds of dismounting, more footsteps. Later, a wagon creaked to a halt, and I heard its brake being set. The sounds of a few whispered voices reached me then, from various distant areas. I began to feel uncomfortable at all this activity. I patrolled farther afield; and, listening closely, I began hearing the sounds of spades from many dir
ections.

  «I remember you,» came a faintly familiar voice. «You're a watchdog, like me, with big teeth.»

  It was the graveyard dog, making his rounds.

  «'Evening,» I said. «Yes, I recall. Seems to be a lot of activity all of a sudden.»

  «Too much,» he replied. «I'm not sure I care to give the alarm. Might get mobbed. After all, everybody here is dead, so who cares? They won't complain. The older I get the more conservative I feel. I'm just not much into heavy action these days. I do wish everybody'd fill up their holes neatly, though, afterwards. Maybe you could pass the word along?»

  «I don't know,» I said. «I don't know who all's out there. It's not like a trade union, you know, with operating rules and policies. We usually just get the work done as efficiently as possible and get the hell out.»

  «Well, it would be nice if you cleaned up after yourselves. Less trouble for me.»

  «I'm afraid I can only speak for the master, but he's usually quite neat in these matters. Maybe you'd better approach a few of the others yourself.»

  «I'm inclined to let it go by,» he said. «Too bad.»

  We strolled around a bit together then. Later, a voice very like MacCab's called out from down the hill, «Damn! I need a left femur and this one ain't got one!»

  «Left femur, you say?» came an ancient croaking voice from nearby, which could have been Owen's. «I've one right here I ain't usin'. Have you a liver, though? That's my need.»

  «Easily done!» came the reply. «Bide a moment. There! Trade?»

  «You have it! Catch!»

  Something flashed through the air to rattle farther down the hill, followed by scurrying sounds.

  «Fair enough! Here's yer liver!»

  There came a splap from higher up and a muttered «Got it!»

  «Hey!» came a lady's voice then, from off to the left. «While you're about it, have you a skull?»

  «Indeed I do!» said the second man. «What'll you give?»

  «What do you need?»

  «Fingerbones!»

  «Done! I'll tie 'em together with a piece of twine!»

  «Here's your skull!»

  «Got it! Yours'll be along shortly!»

  «Has anyone the broken vertebrae of a hanged man?» came a deep masculine voice with a Hungarian accent, from somewhere far to the right.

  There followed a minute's silence. Then, «I've some mashed ones here! Dunno how they got that way, though!»

  «Perhaps they'll do. Send them along, please!»

  Something white and rattling flashed through the starlit air.

  «Yes. I can work with these. What'll you have for them?»

  «They're on the house! I'm done! 'Night!»

  There followed the sounds of rapidly retreating footfalls.

  «See?» the old dog said. «He didn't fill it in.»

  «I'm sorry.»

  «I'll be up kicking dirt all night.»

  «Afraid I can't help you. I've got my own job to see to.»

  «Eyeballs, anyone?» came a call.

  «Over here,» said someone with a Russian accent. «One of them, please.»

  «I'll have the other,» came an aristocratic voice from the opposite direction.

  «Either of you got a couple of floating ribs, or a pair of kidneys?»

  «Down here, on the kidneys!» came a new voice. «And I'm in need of a patella!»

  «What's that?»

  «Knee bone!»

  «Oh? No problem… .»

  On the way out, we passed a white-bearded, frail-looking man, half-adoze, leaning on a spade near the gate. Casual inspection would have had one believe him a sexton, out for a bit of night air, but his scent was that of the Great Detective, hardly drowsing. Someone had obviously spoken too publicly.

  Jack muffled himself and we slunk by, shadows amid shadows.

  Thus was all our work quickly concluded to everyone's satisfaction, save for the tired hound. Such times are rare, such times are fleeting, but always bright when caught, measured, hung, and later regarded in times of adversity, there in the kinder halls of memory, against the flapping of the flames.

  Forgive me. The New Moon, as they say, gives rise to reflection. Time to make my rounds. Then some more dragging.

  October 18

  First time out yesterday I got him farther through the muck, but he was still in it when I left him. I was tired. Jack was sequestered with his objects. The police were about, searching the area. The vicar was out, too, offering exhortations to the searchers. Night came on, and later I made my way back to the muck, chasing off a few vermin and beginning the long haul once again.

  I'd worked on and off for over an hour, allowing myself several panting breaks, when I realized I was no longer alone. He was bigger than me even, and he moved with a silence I envied, some piece of the night cut loose and drifting against lesser blacknesses. He seemed to know the moment I became aware of him, and he moved toward me with a long, effortless stride, one of the largest dogs I'd ever seen outside of Ireland.

  Correction. As he came on I realized he wasn't really a dog. It was a great gray wolf that was bearing down on me. I quickly reviewed my knowledge of the submissive postures these guys are into as I backed away from the corpse.

  «You can have it,» I said. «It's all right with me. It's not in the best of shape, though.»

  He loomed nearer. Monstrous jaws, great feral eyes… . Then he sat down.

  «So this is where it is,» he said.

  «What?»

  «The missing body. Snuff, you are tampering with evidence.»

  «And you might say I'm tampering with something already tampered with. Who are you?»

  «Larry. Talbot.»

  «Could've fooled me. I thought you were, a great wolf… oh.»

  «That, too.»

  «Were, huh? And you're shifted. But this is the dark of the moon.»

  «So it is.»

  «Neat trick, that. How'd you manage it?»

  «I can do it whenever I choose, with certain botanical aids, and retain full rationality, save when the moon is full. It's only involuntary then, with certain unfortunate accompaniments.»

  «So I understand. Like, berserk.»

  «Wulfsark,» he said. «Yes.»

  «So why are you here?»

  «I tracked you. Ordinarily, this is my favorite time of month, without a trace of moon to disturb me. But I forsook this to do some investigating. Then it became necessary that I speak with you. So I came looking. What are you doing with the body, anyway?»

  «I was trying to get it to the river, where I want to drop it in. Someone had left it near our place, and I was afraid Jack would be suspected.»

  «I'll give you a ha… I'll help.»

  With that, he seized it by a shoulder and began walking backwards. No bracing himself and tugging, the way I'd had to manage it. He just kept walking, picking up speed, even. I didn't see any way I could help. I'd just slow him down if I grabbed hold anywhere. I trotted along beside and watched.

  An hour or so later we stood on the riverbank and watched the current bear the corpse away.

  «I can't tell you how happy this makes me,» I said.

  «You just did,» he said. «Let's head back.»

  We returned, but when he reached my place he kept going.

  «Where are we headed?» I finally asked, when he'd turned left at the second crossroad.

  «I'd said I went looking for you because I wanted to speak with you. There is something I need to show you first. If my timing is right, it's about midnight now.»

  «I'd guess it's close.»

  We approached the local church. There was a very dim light from within.

  «The front will probably be locked,» he said. «We wouldn't want to go in that way, though.»

  «We're going in?»

  «That's my intention.»

  «Have you been in it before?»

  «Yes. I know my way around. We'll go in the rear entrance if no one's about, pass
through a small vestibule, turn left for a few paces, then right up a little hallway. We can get into the vestry from there, if it's clear.»

  «And then?»

  «If we position ourselves properly, we get a view.»

  «Of what?»

  «I'm curious myself. Let's find out.»

  We made our way around to the back of the building and listened. Determining that there was no one near on the other side, Larry rose up onto his hind legs, seeming far more graceful in that position than I could be. But then, he'd had a lot more practice. He seized the doorknob between his forepaws, squeezed, twisted, and pulled slowly.

  It opened and we entered. He closed the door just as quietly behind us. We followed the route he had described, and, coming into the vestry, we were able to position ourselves to obtain the view he had referred to.

  There was a service in progress.

  Only a few people, one woman, the rest of them men, were present, occupying the front pews. The vicar stood before the altar, which I noted to be draped in black, and was reading to his congregation. He squinted through his square spectacles, as the flickering light was not very good, all of it coming from only a few black candles. Larry pointed out that the cross was upside-down, but I'd already noticed this myself.

  «Do you know what that means?» he asked softly.

  «Religious distress signal?» I said.

  «Listen to what he's saying.»

  So I did.

  «'… Nyarlathotep,'» he read, «'cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills. He is like a many-legged goat, and he standeth behind our wall, he looketh forth at the windows, shewing himself through the lattice, horned in glory. Nyarlathotep spake, and he said, »Rise up, my dark one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is nigh and the cold rains fall. The flowers have died upon the earth, and the singing of birds is done. The turtle lies slain. The fig tree withers, as do the grapes. Arise, my dark one, and come away… .«'»

  The woman had risen to her feet, swaying slightly, and had begun to disrobe.

  «You've proved your point,» I said to Larry, memorizing the faces of the parishioners, whom I suspected to be the crossbow crew as well.

  «Then let us take a hint and come away,» he said.