Wolftown

In less than thirty seconds, John transfigured into a wolf.

“But it’s not supposed to work!” Wayne said.

John had never had an out-of-body experience, but he thought his current experience was not one—he had one set of wolf bones and organs and one set of human bones and organs. Some seemed to overlap, such as seeing with two eyeballs instead of four and having one heartbeat—but the overlapped ones doubled their abilities. The location of his joints perplexed him; he wondered exactly where his spine ended. The breakroom smelled stronger. John’s color vision had become yellower and bluer.

“How did you do that?” Wayne asked loudly.

“Are you okay?” Schuster asked, also loudly.

The lady and Kevin murmured in the restroom, too far away for human ears to hear.

John said, “I don’t know,” but it sounded like an unclear wolfish noise.

“Okay, I’m going to take the wolf strap off you,” Schuster said. “Hold still until we figure out if you hurt yourself.”

“I don’t feel hurt, but it’s weird,” John said.

“Hurry up. He sounds bad,” Wayne said.

As John transfigured into a human, his voice changed similar to the lady’s: “I don’t think I got hurt, but I wish I hadn’t licked the floor. I couldn’t close my mouth.”

“Say again?” Schuster asked.

John repeated himself and moved into a more comfortable position. Schuster stuffed the wolf strap into the evidence bag and the bag into his pocket.

“How did you do that?” Wayne asked.

“I put the wolf strap on.” John’s knees wobbled too much to stand.

“Did it require effort or something?”

“It’s automatic.”

Wayne and Schuster hoisted John into a chair.

“Apparently, turning into a böxenwolf is possible, but we still don’t know how it is done. So, nothing has been explained, and we don’t know what causes it,” Wayne said. “What did it feel like?”

“Weird,” John said.

“So, when I call Sheriff Jordan, will you two back me up about the böxenwolves?” Schuster asked.

Immediately, Wayne said, “No!”

John guessed why Wayne said no. “Are you going to tell him there are werewolves in the sewers?”

“Okay, I’m going to get the lady to be the first one to tell him what happened,” Schuster said.

“I’m not criticizing. I’m just asking if the theory is that werewolves are killing people and using the sewers to get there and escape?”

“It isn’t being ruled out.”

“I’ll turn into a böxenwolf again if it will help the lady get somewhere safe,” John said.

“Thanks for your cooperation and assistance. Wayne, why did you say no?”

“I’m not even going to risk explaining my reasons,” Wayne said.

“Why not?”

“I don’t have to answer.”

“I’m guessing, and maybe I’m wrong. No offense intended. But maybe because he thought people in the sewers was a dumb idea, and böxenwolves are worse. So, no offense to anybody, he already thinks he will look like an idiot? And the new development is worse?” John asked.

“What would you think if somebody explained it to you?” Wayne asked.

“Obviously, he would investigate it,” John said.

“Okey-dokey. I’m going to call the Sheriff, then talk to the lady. Stay here. Don’t wander around. Don’t touch anything.”

“We have to call people and tell them we are fine,” Wayne said.

“Do that first.”

Schuster, Wayne, and John had told Pastor Mickelson, Rebecca Austin, and Paula that if they had not called by 12:00 PM Sunday, March 12, they should consider Schuster, Wayne, and John missing. Because the storm knocked out the Wolftown phone lines, once they were restored, Pastor Mickelson would call Rebecca and ask if he should worry.

Wayne called Rebecca, who said the wolf attack caused Suzanne’s kidneys to fail.

John told Paula, “We’re fine, and in Happy Howlers. The lady might be more accurate than we thought.”

“What kind of wolves are they, anyway?” Paula asked.

“Someone got an idea from an obscure fairy tale,” John said. “I don’t think anyone thought someone would have used the fairy tale, so no one noticed at first.” John thought that the idea embarrassed Wayne to such a degree that if he had suspected it, he would have warned John in advance.

Schuster left a message at Sheriff Jordan’s house. If he called the office, the suspect might hear something important a deputy ignorantly radioed to Sheriff Jordan.

Schuster continued questioning the lady.

With everybody warm enough again, Wayne turned down the heat.

Under Schuster’s instructions, Wayne called every Jordan in the phone book. Based on circumstantial evidence, Schuster thought Sheriff Jordan might be at church or a restaurant, but it seemed unlikely in the post-flood conditions. He discouraged Wayne from telling anybody he called on wolf business—gossip spread quickly.

“Are you sure somebody would tell a stranger where a police officer is off duty?” John asked.

“It’s a small county,” Wayne said.

A relative told Wayne that Sheriff Jordan had checked on her early in the morning and gone to church to check on the flood-prone basement. She gave the phone number.

The church phone rang while Schuster and Kevin returned to the break room.

Wayne hung up. “Nobody answered.”

“Okey-dokey. Thanks for trying. The lady thinks that the subject couldn’t attack as violently as he does if he was in human shape.”

“Because he doesn’t have sharp teeth?” Wayne asked.

“Being a wolf makes him more comfortable with killing people. I don’t understand how or why anybody would think that, but she says he does.”

“It is as if something about being in a wolf shape separates him from the fact, he is a person killing another person,” Kevin said.

“Nobody is going outside alone or unarmed, including me. And I can’t ask a civilian to go outside, so we are stuck in here.”

“I still need to check on the wolves,” Wayne said.

           “Why wouldn’t he come inside?” John asked.

           “The lady set up barricades and an alarm system. Before Sheriff Jordan gets here, I should be able to describe the scene. We can’t go outside, so we have to be ready to go outside when he gets here. I kind of know what the wolf signs were outside, but I can’t compare them to the ones in Wolftown. So, will you, Wayne?”

           Wayne sighed. “Do I have to?”

           “No,” Kevin said.

           “You would be of assistance. You’d be doing the same things you were doing before.”

           “Do I have to talk about böxenwolves?”

           “My client hasn’t agreed to discuss being a böxenwolf more than she already has,” Kevin said.

           “All I’m asking is you look at the scene like it’s any other part of the wolf response,” Schuster said.           

“But now I know böxenwolves are real, I’ll interpret the data differently,” Wayne said.

           “How much interpreting have you done?” Schuster asked.

           “I can identify the wolves by their paw prints, and I noticed weird things. I didn’t identify humans at the scenes, but if she was transforming here, there would be weird things or human and wolf signs together. I would have to document them.”

           “If you are going to press charges for breaking and entering, you have to know the condition of the scene,” Schuster said.

“Will it matter to Suzanne?”

“I don’t know.”

“Will it be more expensive than just repairing a broken window?”

“Ask a lawyer,” Schuster said.

“Ask your insurance provider,” Kevin said.

“The Nature Protection Society might be able to offer financial assistance if the lady was trying to interfere with conservation,” John said.

“She wasn’t helping it,” Wayne said. “What about the wolf she killed?”

“If she has killed a wolf, she will be charged for it. Looking around is part of the wolf response, and you’re a volunteer wolf responder.”

“Will it help her get away?”

“It might protect her from the suspect, and there is reason to believe he might kill her,” Schuster said.

“And she is willing to face the consequences for her alleged activities,” Kevin said.

“Excuse me. The more evidence there is, the more likely she will be sent to jail, right? You want him to help you send your client to jail?” John asked.

“She turned herself in,” Schuster said.

Kevin said, “My client claims she didn’t attack people, but she claims the suspect did and that she helped him do it. She wants to give evidence that he attacked people, and she understands that when she does, it may connect her to the attacks. She understands that she might have left evidence here that connects her to the Wolftown attacks. And she is willing to face the consequences, but she intends not to do anything stupid that results in further charges.”

“What about you?” Schuster asked.

“Who? Me?” John asked after a couple seconds of expectant silence.

“Yeah. You’re a biologist.”

“I don’t know enough about the evidence or enough about wolves,” John said. “I’m mostly referring to the lady. If the other guy actually has killed people, he should be arrested. I’m not comfortable helping a person go to jail, but maybe I would if it would catch the guy trying to hurt her.” John felt like he held the minority opinion.

Kevin said, “Wisconsin abolished the death penalty in 1853, if it helps.”

“Maybe, but I still don’t know if I would or not,” John said.

Wayne sighed. “Fine. I’ll look around as part of the wolf response, but I’m not theorizing or saying that böxenwolves are the culprits.”

“Okey-dokey. Thanks for your cooperation,” Schuster said.

“Will the bad guy come inside?”

“Maybe I can shoot him before he turns into a wolf.”

“Why does the shape matter?” Wayne asked.

“Böxenwolves heal faster,” Kevin said.

           “Why?” Wayne asked.

           “I don’t know.”

           “Maybe the bullet goes through two sets of organs?” John asked.

“I have six full magazines, so as long as I get a chance to reload, it should be fine,” Schuster said. “But guns won’t make you feel better. Sorry.”

“How am I supposed to examine the scene if we can’t go outside?” Wayne asked.

“We’ll start in here and hope Sheriff Jordan will call back before we’re done,” Schuster said.

Wayne and Schuster walked through Happy Howlers methodically and left Kevin and John in the break room.

When Wayne and Schuster went down the hall, Kevin asked John, “You see why people thought Satan possessed böxenwolves?”

“Yeah,” John said. “It sucks. No offense. I can imagine why you only did it once.”

“A lot of people find it uncomfortable and dislike it. Maybe wolf straps were useful once, like for hunting during long periods of starvation. Dennis Laufenberg must be very panicky or revengeful.”

John believed people were fundamentally good, but he also acknowledged that people committed murder. He remained skeptical about somebody slaughtering people with his teeth, however revengeful or panicked the killer felt—it was completely unnatural behavior for people. In wolf form, he did not feel animal-like or any change in himself.

“Does she want to go to jail?” John asked.

“I’m not sure anybody wants to,” Kevin said.

Eventually, Schuster returned and said, “Kevin, I have to ask the lady a question.”

“About what?” Kevin asked.

“Wayne says there are a lot of missing sharp implements.”

“All right.” Kevin followed him.

Schuster unlocked the door, and Wayne waited a few steps away.

“Do you know anything about the sharp implements, like the kitchen knife and the part of the paper cutter that does the cutting?” Schuster asked.

The lady said, “I can’t beat him in a human fight, so I got rid of the weapons for him to use. And I have a better chance in a wolf fight.”

“Where did you put them?”

“I tossed them in the wolf pen.”

“Why?”

“Dennis Laufenberg can’t fight a whole pack of wolves by himself.”

Wayne’s wolves would die in the wild, but they retained some instincts.

“Are they booby-trapped?” Schuster asked, though Wayne said, “Ask her if she hurt a wolf.”

“I’m not stupid enough to go into a wolf pen.”

“Did you injure a wolf?”

“How should I know?”

Wayne ran towards the breakroom.

“You have eyes,” Schuster said.

“It was the middle of the night and raining,” she said.

“Shall I stop his questions?” Kevin asked.

“Nah. And I wasn’t going to hang around outside.”

“Why did you keep the box-cutter?” Schuster asked.

“Because I changed my mind about needing a real weapon, but I’d already gotten rid of the good ones.”

A barricade scooted and crashed away from the emergency door.

“I think Wayne and John are going outside,” Kevin said.

The emergency exit door slammed.

Schuster locked the restroom door, saying, “Kevin, answer the phone if it rings.” He pelted outside.

John had slipped in the mud, but he and Wayne slowly walked along the pens, following dainty bare footprints.

“What did I just say not an hour ago about staying inside?” Schuster whispered.

“Did she say what pen she threw them in?” Wayne asked.

“Whisper and go inside.”

“Why?”

“If the subject is transfigured into a wolf, he has a wolf’s hearing range. Go inside.”

“Wolves bleed to death like people do.”

“Harming a wolf is illegal, so I’ll charge her with it. But we can’t be outside.”

“Apparently, we can be because we are.”

“I’m outside because I don’t think a wolf should die because of people,” John whispered, hands up.

“It’s private property.”

“Go inside.”

“You could probably make John go inside, but not me—”

“Checking on the wolves will be easier with two people.” John backed towards the main facility’s emergency exit.

As he spoke, Wayne said, “—because you would rip your stitches again.”

“The next time I say go inside, it’s because there is a highly dangerous suspect here,” Schuster said. “If I say go inside, do it. Stop arguing about it.”

“Fine, if Dennis Laufenberg comes here, we will go inside,” Wayne said.

“John, look for the wolves. Wayne, draw your gun. You look that way and say if you see the highly dangerous suspect. If he charges and you think it’s necessary to shoot him, go ahead.”

They rearranged themselves, and Wayne gave John his binoculars. He looked over the empty field toward the road and Schuster toward the buildings, which stood closer to the woods and in the general direction of the suspect’s campsite.

“What makes it worse than a normal wolf?”

“And he can run as fast as a wolf, and he has a wolf’s vision and sense of smell.”

“I’m around wolves all the time,” Wayne whispered.

“Yeah, but this one isn’t scared of humans. He might have a grudge against you or Happy Howlers specifically.”

“Is that why he attacked Suzanne?” Wayne asked in his normal tone.

“I haven’t asked him. Shh! Listen.”

“If the suspect comes here, we have to be in a good position to use necessary force. We’re separated now, so two-fifths of us are defenseless,” Schuster said. “And the rest of us are exposed.”

“You two go inside, and I’ll take care of the wolves by myself,” Wayne said.

“No. And don’t step on the evidence or disturb the scene.”

“How are we supposed to take care of the wolves, walk in mud, and not disturb the scene? How do you know he is in wolf form instead of human form?”

“Do your best. And stop talking, please.”

They squelched past the damp wolf information boards.

The lady had claimed she was the wolf which Glenn found inexplicably in a locked wolf pen, and he said the wolf disappeared from the pen. Schuster tended to believe Glenn, but he had procrastinated checking the wolf pens—the lady could have placed the suspect in one after Glenn left. Or the suspect hid somewhere on the premises.

Throwing sharp objects into wolf pens, hoping they hit the wolves, seemed less strategic than the suspect’s other plans, but it seemed a reasonable idea from his perspective. The threat of an injured animal would lure conservationists outside, and the lady said the suspect knew Schuster and Foster responded to vulnerable people.

Still, the lady could have considered a pen full of wolves the best place to secure weapons.

If the suspect came to Happy Howlers of his own accord, he would sense Schuster, Wayne, John, Kevin, and the lady long before anybody noticed him. It would be almost impossible to determine if the lady planned it or correctly predicted his actions.

John tapped Schuster on the back, and he jumped and turned around. He pointed at the wolf pen, inside of which a pair of pruning shears, another metallic object, and a shovel glinted.

“Look,” Schuster whispered.”

Wayne did. “I have to move the wolves into a secure area.”

“Can it wait?”

“A wolf might be dying.”

Schuster would quite happily move to a continent that harbored neither endemic wolves nor zoo wolves. “Can John do it?”

“He can help, but by himself, he would make a mistake and get eaten.” Although Wayne taught that wolves attacked humans when provoked and preferred to avoid humans, he often told people he fed his wolves well, and they could eat much more if given the opportunity.

“Sorry,” John mouthed.

“Hurry up.”

“We have to talk during it.”

Great, Schuster thought. “Whisper. Count the wolves and make a positive identification of each one. Don’t step on anything important. And don’t move the sharp implements.”