Wolftown

John waved politely at the lady, who had wedged herself between the sink, the wall, and the garbage can. She squinted at him. He half-expected her eyes to glow in the dark. It vaguely offended John that, when voluntarily going to the police station to give a statement about an unprovoked wolf charging John, Schuster handcuffed John’s hands behind him, yet Schuster handcuffed in front the hands of a confessed accomplice to various nefarious activities.

Kevin pocketed the evidence bag containing the boxcutter and stuffed the evidence bag with the bulky wolf strap into his belt.

To Wayne, Schuster whispered, “Hide.”

           “It’s my building,” Wayne whispered.

           “Mr. McDowell, hide.” He turned his radio’s speaker down.

Foster would have disagreed with Schuster’s decision—locking Wayne and Ms. Brown in the same room might lead to a disturbance.

           “I got tired of watching people die in 1951.”

           Because the böxenwolf could be considered part of the wolf response, and Wayne led a wolf response team, Schuster said, “Okay. Kevin, close the door, lock it, turn off the light, and whisper if you have to talk to Sheriff Jordan.”

           Kevin closed and locked the door.

The böxenwolf roared again, as if through the communal office’s broken window.

“Hold fire until I say so,” Schuster whispered.

           “I will,” Wayne said.

           “Move down, so the shadows don’t show through the crack. Wait, switch places. Can you turn that light off, but not this one?”

           In the new arrangement, Schuster was between the employees’ restrooms, facing the knob side of the communal office’s door and Wayne to the hinge side. Wayne switched off the hall light that cast his shadow too close to the office.

“Yes, sorry for the delay,” Kevin said into the phone. He whispered introductions; the lady’s name was Corey Brown.

John waited awkwardly in a corner by the door’s hinges, unsure whether he should turn off the tape recorder for attorney-client privilege or record a böxenwolf attack.

“Sheriff Jordan says he wants to know more about the böxenwolf,” Kevin whispered.

“Huh?” Corey whispered.

“Can I ask why?” Kevin listened. “He says witnesses tend to know key details, and he tries not to be dismissive. He understands it might be unusual to someone from Wolftown.”

“Fine.” Then the böxenwolf roared and Corey whispered, “Shh. Too close.” Seconds later, she snapped, “He can hear you through walls! Shut up!”

Unable to see Kevin, John thought he groaned silently and held his head.

John tapped Kevin on the shoulder and held up the tape player.

“Do you mind lending it to Billy?” Kevin asked.

“Sure.”

“The wolves stopped howling when I went inside, too,” Corey said, then made a no sound.

John unlocked the door and passed the tape recorder and his extra tape to Schuster, who thanked him.

“If you can’t hear Billy and Wayne, everything is fine,” Kevin said. “John, do you mind listening at the door?”

“Sure.” John wondered how to apply his experience with typical Los Angeles violence to a Wisconsin böxenwolf. He pressed an ear to the door.

Regularly, Corey stopped talking to listen to a question. “Because I know him.” She described Dennis Laufenberg as a wolf. “There’s a squishy part on his face where his jaw should be, but it looks normal. Iron or steel. Damage the wolf strap. It heals him fast while he’s wearing it.” She made a no sound. “Fast healing gives him an advantage. If he puts it on over clothes, he’s a half-human, half-wolf thing, but he doesn’t have any. Because everything got washed away. Maybe a cattle prod. So what? Maybe bear spray. Maybe a sledgehammer to the head. So what? Chainsaw. Who cares? Me and Tyler scared Wolftown dogs, but we were trying. He got sick from biting someone’s guts, but he got better. Maybe his face is getting infected. Brucellosis from eating a raw elk, and poison ivy.” Hopefully, she added, “Do you think he’s dying? Maybe into the woods, but he can’t hunt. He’d have to explain his jaw to people, but maybe he’d go to a different state. Maybe he couldn’t come back for me.”

Four feet thudded onto the floor, like a dog’s would, and the böxenwolf whimpered. Possibly, Schuster misidentified a wolf as a böxenwolf.

           Schuster keyed his radio, then released it, and turned his radio off.

The conservation facilities’ wolves were quieting gradually.

He wrote in his notebook, Tell Sheriff Jordan Turned radio off, suspect in the communal office, Wayne and me in the hallway next to the door. Respond. Schuster ripped the page out. Trying to aim constantly in the general vicinity of the böxenwolf, he knelt and bent over sideways and slid the paper under the door.

There were no other sounds, but Schuster felt like a person listened to them.

The böxenwolf or wolf sniffed around the door.

The paper rustled on the floor, and John switched on his flashlight to read it. He passed it to Kevin because Corey refused to speak ever since the wolves quieted. She had clamped a hand over the phone’s speaker.

Kevin read the note and wrestled the phone from Corey. He muttered the note aloud and wrote, Sheriff: Stay where you are or hide. John slid it under the door.

Corey could not muffle Kevin without clanking her handcuffs, but she tried. John heard nothing they said or anything in the hallway.

Later, Kevin told John that Schuster told Kevin he had given Kevin the evidence bags because Schuster expected the suspect to tamper with them, but Kevin objected to evidence tampering. When Sheriff Jordan asked if Kevin, John, and Corey had any weapons, he said that they ought to defend themselves with anything available.

The böxenwolf sneezed, and Schuster jumped. It whimpered.

           Schuster felt guilty about not attempting to kill or arrest the suspect and felt guilty that killing him seemed like a reasonable, justifiable action. But shooting blindly through a closed door at a person whose identity he had not verified was wrong. Also, it could be a wolf.

Wayne turned up his hearing aid, and he leaned towards the door, then took half a step closer, but watched his shadow.

After reading the note, Schuster pointed to Hide and Wayne, who shook his head.

The böxenwolf growled, but Wayne listened unfazed. Then it roared, ending in a whine.

In his notebook, Wayne scribbled, I think there’s something wrong with the wolf’s mouth or face, like a really bad jaw infection or an abscessed bite. Maybe he has a lower respiratory infection. I haven’t seen him, though.

Schuster wrote, Mr. McDowell thinks the suspect has an infected face and/or chest. Foster and me shot him in the abdomen. Maybe it’s infected, too. He passed it under the door.

The böxenwolf scrabbled the doorknob until the push-button unlocked. Fortunately, Happy Howlers’ doors had turning doorknobs instead of lever knobs, and the paracord tied between the communal office’s doorknob and the breakroom door held the door shut.

           Corey began describing the third accomplice, who she said was not a böxenwolf. She said that Dennis Laufenberg coerced the accomplice.

Schuster thought he heard the boxenwolf grunt in pain.

           Wayne wrote, Maybe I can scare him away without you.

           He will probably disappear, Schuster wrote. He has to be brought to court.

           You’ll know what happened.

           Schuster shook his head vigorously and thought, It’s wrong. It isn’t how law enforcement should work. We don’t know if the suspect is actually involved or not. We just have circumstantial evidence, so we don’t know what happened. He might know about—.

           The four legs under the door transfigured into two, and the böxenwolf groaned.

Schuster gestured for Wayne to back up, and, surprisingly, he did.

The böxenwolf turned the doorknob. It yanked Wayne’s door twice, grunting and muttering. Unable to hear, Schuster gestured for Wayne to write it down.

           Hard to understand, like he can’t talk well. Lots of swearing. Wayne transcribed an example. Dennis Laufenberg excelled at swearing. Mad about the lady, you, me, Glenn and Calvin but probably means John.

           Sheriff Jordan transferred the phone call to a sheriff’s department dispatcher and left for Happy Howlers.

Schuster considered going outside to block an escape route through the window, trapping the böxenwolf in Wayne’s office. The twine and furniture barricade would probably block the door, but he could climb over them and reach Corey. Killing the böxenwolf required extremely precise shots or more ammunition than he carried; he doubted his caliber of ammunition would kill it. However, he might slow the böxenwolf enough to untie the wolf strap. The multiple gunshot wounds would kill a human, and although Schuster would kill a violent suspect, if necessary, he dreaded it.

           Kevin slid a sheet of yellow paper under the door. It said, Kevin: If you shoot Dennis Laufenberg through a closed door and have no evidence that he can attack you through the door, you will go to jail for murder. Sheriff: Deputies will be coming around the sides of the buildings. Stay out of their line of fire. They know Wayne has a gun, what he looks like, and that he isn’t the suspect. He has to put the gun down. Deputies are authorized to kill wolves found loose in the area (not inside fences). Get the wolf strap away from the suspect because it is his weapon. Respond you read it.

           As Wayne read, Schuster underlined put the gun down. Wayne set his gun on the floor, but his hand hovered over it.

Schuster wrote, Okey-dokey.

“The people behind the attacks kidnapped me, but I escaped,” a man said.

Mid-shoo, Schuster jumped. He did not believe the suspect, but could not have explained why.

“They were Corey Brown and Tyler Wilson. Let me out. I need help.” The man sounded like Dennis Laufenberg.

Schuster thought that Corey Brown was not the mastermind of the Wolftown wolf attacks. He knew little about Tyler Wilson.

           When John had turned into a böxenwolf, he had heard Corey and Kevin murmuring in the restroom, but in human form, they were inaudible. He thought if the böxenwolf spoke, he was in human form and had normal human hearing. So, John whispered what he overheard. Kevin repeated it to a sheriff’s department dispatcher—until Corey slapped her hands over John’s mouth.

           The böxenwolf said, “Tell Wayne they have three wolves with them, and they need help.”

           With his gun-free hand, Wayne made half of the crossed-arms no gesture, which Schuster echoed.

           “Isn’t anybody there?” the böxenwolf asked. “I saw a lot of footprints coming to Happy Howlers, but no cars or people going away.”

Kevin pried Corey’s fingers off John’s mouth. Corey, Kevin, and John listened through the door. After two sentences, his vocabulary disgusted John. He rethought every sentence to separate the swearing from the information.

The suspect switched from speaking to Schuster and Wayne to speaking to Corey. He said, “I blamed you for kidnapping me because I had to get them to let me inside.” The suspect claimed he smelled and heard Corey. He thought she restrained or killed Schuster, Kevin, and Glenn Malone, Calvin Kowalski, “or whoever.”

Corey reached for the wolf strap, but Kevin grabbed her wrists and also attempted to hold the phone between his head and shoulder. He fumbled the phone before it crashed. Corey snatched the wolf strap.

Something metallic and screechy jerked inside Wayne’s office. Then metal struck metal several times, and a small object landed on the carpet. The noises stopped for several seconds.

Roughly, the suspect said, “Well, they aren’t expecting a böxenwolf.”

Schuster could not hear the deputies, and he expected that if they were close enough for a human to hear them, Schuster would hear them within a minute. Instead, the metallic noises resumed, and Schuster gestured for Wayne to move further down his part of the hall. Surprisingly, Wayne cooperated. Schuster also backed several steps away.

Wayne’s office door thunked, and the twine supported the door. Because the door opened inward, the barricade would simply inconvenience the böxenwolf.

Kevin had loaned Corey his wife’s dress, sweater, socks, and shoes, and his wife and Corey wore vastly different sizes. Corey explained later to John that she had fully dressed once she had convinced Schuster böxenwolves existed; böxenwolves found transfiguration while clothed inconvenient. Sitting, Corey opened the bag as quietly as possible, and the clothes rustled. Her eyes glowed in the dark, reflecting light from under the door.

The handcuffs clanked on the linoleum, and she stepped out of them and out of the shoes. When Kevin whispered to her, Corey huffed, as if she fully intended to ignore his advice. She wiggled out of the baggy dress, sweater, and shoes, and bit the socks off.

Corey could not open the door, John considered opening it stupid, and he doubted Kevin would unleash an angry böxenwolf.

The böxenwolf tugged the communal office door, grunting.

Corey untied the wolf strap long enough to transfigure into a human, kick Kevin’s kneecap so he stumbled out of the way, open the door, and step through it.

The böxenwolf yanked the communal office door out of the way, snapping the twine and knocking the water cooler over.

Simultaneously, Schuster turned on his radio and said, “The suspect took the damn door off the hinges and he’s coming into the hallway.”

Ms. Brown had shown Schuster the horror-movie style of böxenwolf herself, but compared to the male böxenwolf, she could have appeared in a picture book.

Schuster ordered, “Get on the floor!”

Both ends of the wolf strap dangled from the böxenwolf’s left side. Red, swollen skin covered half of his mangled face, which had a wolf’s muzzle with blunt human teeth on a human head. His furry but otherwise human ears sat high on his head. On his torso, there were round scars, tufts of fur in circles, and one long, thin line of fur. Instead of body hair, he had fur.

Ms. Brown growled behind Schuster. He flinched and backed against the wall; he expected Ms. Brown to bite him, but before he aimed at her, she passed him.

Meanwhile, the böxenwolf roared and half-lunged at Schuster but appeared to change his mind.

Wayne snatched his gun. “What the hell is that?” He dodged backwards.

Schuster began firing at the male boxenwolf, but the böxenwolf had already turned away and run, with Ms. Brown leaping easily over the barricade. Tying on the flapping wolf strap, the male böxenwolf turned to the window.

The Happy Howlers wolves vocalized again.

“The suspect is going out a window,” Schuster radioed. “Don’t shoot the skinny running wolf. She was supposed to be locked up. Don’t shoot the skinny wolf.” He climbed out the window.

As Schuster radioed, the male böxenwolf roared again.

A second deputy ran away, swearing, and a deputy’s K9 dog yelped. Judging from the handler’s commands and radio transmissions, the dog broke free of its handler and bolted for its K-9 transport vehicle, followed by the handler.

           The male böxenwolf reached the speed of twenty to twenty-five-miles-per hour, much faster than the previous times Schuster encountered him. Schuster, Chief Deputy Swan, and another deputy chased them at an average person’s speed past the wolf shed and wolf hospital. Ms. Brown overtook them in seconds.

As a third deputy caught up, Chief Deputy Swan noticed that two others watched the pursuit. Identifying the wolf-shaped creatures as ordinary wolves, he began forcing the other deputies forward.

Some deputies fired at the böxenwolves, but Schuster waited for another clear target.

Ms. Brown tore bloody skin and fur from the male böxenwolf’s back, and he snapped at her neck.

Schuster ordered the male böxenwolf to freeze and for Ms. Brown to stop biting and to move aside, worried somebody would shoot her.

With the muddy, bloody wolf strap in her mouth, Ms. Brown broke away from the böxenwolf. He transfigured into the monster form. The pursuing deputy shrieked, but Schuster, then the third deputy, opened fire.

“What the fuck is that thing doing?” Chief Deputy Swan yelled.

Behind him, Schuster, and the second and third deputies, other deputies joined the gunfire. While Deputy Swan controlled the crossfire, the second deputy flattened on the ground, and Schuster dodged behind a tree.