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    Night Strangers
    Night Strangers
    Night Strangers
    Ebook324 pages5 hours

    Night Strangers

    By Dallas Releford

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Cecil Norton, a writer is involved in an almost fatal accident. His girlfriend Beverly is not so lucky. She ends up in the hospital. Cecil has double vision. His doctor tells him that it will vanish after a few months. Cecil soon discovers that his injury has allowed him to not only see double, but he can also see some people as they really are, werewolves.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDallas Releford
    Release dateJun 30, 2010
    ISBN9781452314600
    Night Strangers

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      Book preview

      Night Strangers - Dallas Releford

      NIGHT STRANGERS

      By:

      Dallas Releford

      Published by

      Dallas Releford at Smashwords

      Night Strangers

      Copyright (C) 2010 by Dallas Releford

      This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, places, events, organizations, areas, or locations are intended to provide a feeling of authenticity and are used in a fictitious manner. All other characters, dialogue and incidents are drawn from the author’s imagination and shouldn’t be accepted as real.

      No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without explicit permission from the author or publisher except in brief quotations used in an article or in a similar way.

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The ebook may not be re-sold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. if you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      * * * *

      Dedication

      I would like to thank my wife Sharon for her understanding while I was writing this book.

      I would like to thank Dr. Rashid Khan my family doctor for his support. Credit is due to my agent Harriet Smith and Martin Smith for their assistance.

      I would not be a good person if I didn't recognize my full-time editor and reviewer, Kat Garcia who is dedicated to my work and devoted to my cause. Without her, this book would contain many more errors.

      My agent and typist, Harriet Smith deserves additional thanks for typing and revising my manuscripts.

      To Rita Syers of Bronwen Publishing who continues to assist me in my efforts.

      To John Saul, author, for his advice that kept me going.

      To Dana Reed, author of many good novels who taught me a lot I did not know including how not to give up when times were bad.

      NIGHT STRANGERS

      By:

      Dallas Releford

      Introduction

      Werewolf legends are as old as humans themselves. Many societies have had stories, legends and beliefs about creatures that could change from human to wolf for one reason or another. Many good books—and some not so good—have been written about the subject. Practically everyone has seen the Wolf Man movie with Lon Chaney, Jr. about a man transformed into a werewolf. Movies have portrayed this creature in several ways and without a doubt, Lon Chaney, Jr. was the best Wolf Man ever. But, how much do we really know about werewolves?

      Some people have a mental disease called Lycanthropic Disorder that causes them to believe they are werewolves. Although the subject does not really change shape and do most of the things werewolves can do, they should be considered dangerous. Getting bitten by a fake werewolf can be just as painful as getting attacked by a real one.

      Here are a few facts about werewolves that you should know before you read this book. If you ever meet a real werewolf, you should be able to recognize it.

      If a werewolf bites a person, that person can change to wolf form at will or under the influence of certain cycles of a full moon. This is frequently referred to as changing.

      Werewolves are normally immune from most physical diseases such as cancer. Aging is a process that is slowed down because their cells regenerate so fast. Werewolves are virtually immortal. They can be killed by any form of execution that deprives them of oxygen such as cutting their heads off or from hanging. Their heart or brain must be totally destroyed to induce death.

      When a human becomes a werewolf, it retains some of its human memory such as the ability to avoid capture, recognize people they have known previously and the ability to reason things out logically.

      Of the many ways of becoming a werewolf such as from sorcery, black magic and having someone curse you, being bitten by a real wolf or werewolf is perhaps the most common. Once bitten by a beast with the werewolf curse, the victim becomes a werewolf either by willpower or from the influence of the moon. Werewolves can have children that are werewolves. Werewolves can have families that appear normal until they are affected by the moon or become a werewolf by willing it.

      Werewolves may live alone or may form packs (families) and live among humans or in their own communities.

      Why do people become werewolves?

      Some medical people believe that werewolves have something in their blood that causes them to act as they do. Werewolves have a virus in their blood that causes them to assume the lifestyle of wolves. If a wolf has this virus and bites a human, the virus is transmitted to the human who then passes it on to other humans.

      Transformation.

      Once a wolf has bitten a human, that human changes into a werewolf at will or under the influence of the moon. Hair appears and covers most of the victim’s body. Eyebrows become thicker and the creature takes on the appearance of a werewolf. Under some circumstances, the werewolf may assume the typical appearance of a real wolf. Under such circumstances, the werewolf cannot be distinguished from a real wolf except its size is usually much larger than a real wolf.

      As you may have guessed, this story is about werewolves. After you finish reading it, you may be a little more careful about getting too cozy with your next-door neighbors unless you’ve known them for a very long time.

      Unless you have double vision that permits you to see who is a werewolf and who isn’t, like Cecil Norton, the writer-hero in this story, you will probably want to exercise extreme caution as to who you let in your house, and into your life. After a serious accident, Cecil Norton acquires a brain cyst, double vision and the ability to see two images of everyone he meets. Sometimes, one of those images terrifies him. One of those images might just be of a werewolf.

      Remember, that I told you a lot about werewolves so you’ll have a little better understanding about the characters in this story. I also informed you about them so that you’ll be able to avoid them. So, lock your doors, close your windows, put the kids to bed and enjoy a likable tale about a little coastal village in Maine where werewolves and humans live in complete harmony, until someone decides to kill the humans and take their women. Don’t scream too loud. Remember the kids need their sleep.

      Dallas Releford

      Author

      * * * *

      Chapter 1

      They have as king over them, the angel of the abyss; his name in Hebrew is Abaddon and in the Greek he has the name Apollyon.

      Revelation 9:11

      Cecil Norton’s headache started three hours after the accident out on State Route 17. His double vision appeared two hours after the headache stopped hammering his brain like a jackhammer cutting away at two feet of concrete. He first noticed the headache after he left the hospital. His girlfriend, Beverly Wilson was still in the hospital in Augusta with a sprained muscle in her arm and a broken rib. The doctors said she would be there for a couple of days. Cecil thought she might be in the hospital a little longer.

      The accident, the headache and his nagging double vision all occurred a few hours before he saw the werewolves that lived across the street from him.

      At his house on Harris Avenue in Crystal Bay, he tried to relax in an easy chair in front of a large picture window hoping the confusing double vision would go away like the headache. With all the windows open, warm Maine summer heat casually drifted into the room as an oscillating fan pushed it toward his perspiring body. Flowered curtains danced outward as if reaching for him as the hot breath of summer added to his misery. After sitting in front of the window for over two hours watching the kids play baseball across the street, trying to cope with seeing double, he finally came to the conclusion that his problem was getting worse.

      Alone in his house, missing Beverly terribly, he thought back to the accident that happened only this morning. While looking at two telephone poles instead of one, he remembered how normal everything had seemed before the accident. Hell, he thought, everything was pretty much normal until I got careless. How could I have been so stupid?

      Beverly had called him about eight o’clock on that hot, sticky July morning as he worked in his home office trying to finish another chapter in his latest novel. Without air conditioning in his house, the room was almost like an oven. Air conditioning bothered his sinuses and arthritis he inherited from his father. The house had central air and he had used it last summer for a little while until the pain in his hips told him to turn the damn thing off, or suffer. Summer in Maine was intolerable with only two fans in his office to move the hot air out of the room. Sometimes, he wandered back roads that went through woods just to keep cool. Walking was a favorite pastime of his, mostly because it helped to control his diabetes. July usually offered hot cloudless sunny days, stifling heat and cooler nights. Too often, tall thunderheads piled up in the late evening sky and violent storms erupted in the afternoons.

      With that in mind, he usually tried to do any work on his books he could before the storms arrived. When she called and suggested they spend the day shopping, he welcomed the idea knowing it would get him away from the office where he was spending too much of his time. Being with Beverly impressed him more than sitting in front of a computer screen.

      Beverly had wanted him to drive her over to Augusta to shop. Since he didn’t have anything else that he really had to do that morning, he decided to take the day off from writing and spend time with her. His novel Slash was nearly finished and all he had to do was write the final two chapters, add an introduction and then the hard work would begin. Thinking about all the editing, revisions and submissions, he dreaded what lay ahead of him. Sometimes, he wondered why he even wrote at all. Writing fiction was something that not too many writers were successful at. He could just as easily live on what he made working at the nursing home, except he wouldn’t get rich enough to give Beverly the things he thought she should have. With only one novel published, he wasn’t making enough money to do it full time. He felt as if he was living between two hot rocks. No matter which way he turned, he was sure to get burned. Writing was in his blood and he knew it. He had been doing it since he was sixteen. How could he quit now just when he might have a chance to get another book actually published? A slim chance, he thought as he looked around the office seeing two of everything. Then he remembered one of the many reasons he kept writing even though getting something published was almost impossible for a new writer. One of those reasons he kept writing hoping for that big break before he got too old to enjoy the recognition was Beverly, one of the most beautiful women he had ever met.

      They had been going out for the past couple of years and he was very fond of her. Informing her he would pick her up in a few minutes, he had turned the computer off, locked the doors and stepped out into a hot July morning. The sky was hazy and a warm breeze blew in from the southwest. As he started up his old white Corsica, he could see shimmering heat rising from the hood.

      Driving toward Beverly’s house, he thought about her and what she meant to him. Most of everything he was, or had ever been was back there in that old house on Harris Avenue. Some of him was invested in a sweet, longhaired girl named Beverly. Her long dark hair and creamy skin had appealed to him the first time he saw her. College had brought them together and he hoped nothing would ever come between them. Cecil Cecil had always worried about getting too close to other people. Other people could hurt you in more ways than one, his father had always told him. So, Cecil had gone through life having few friends and drifting away from his family as years passed. At age fourteen, the big C had visited his mother and took her in a few months. In those days, little was known about colon cancer. It had been quick and deadly. Grieving continuously for days, he had promised himself he would never love anyone again. After graduation from high school, he had packed his bags and went away to college hoping to get his mind off the loss of his mother. Beverly had dropped into his life and he wondered how long it would be until something came along and took her from him. He expected it even though he had kept telling himself that he would put up a fight no matter what it was. Cancer, terrorists and car wrecks were likely culprits. Cecil knew he could insist that she get a mammogram every year, watch where she went at night and to drive carefully, however he knew he could not protect her from everything. There was only one way to be born and a million ways of dying.

      Still, he knew he would try to protect her from everything he could think of. He would try because he had started loving her a long time ago. His memories and concerns diminished as he pulled into her driveway. She was standing on the front porch waving at him. Locking the door, she turned and walked down the sidewalk smiling at him, swaying her hips in a sensuous manner and looking beautiful as she always did. Getting into the car, she closed the door and kissed him on his lips. Cecil smiled and pulled away from the curb. That’s the way their day had started, he reminded himself as he used an old towel to wipe perspiration from his brow and face. The vehicle was as hot as an oven.

      As they drove toward Augusta, they had talked about what they would do when he finally earned enough money from his writing to support them comfortably. Then they discussed the possibility that they would really get married, eventually and how many kids they were going to have. Beverly was convinced that they would only have a boy and a girl. He wanted three girls and demanded that they all look at least a little like Beverly. Beverly thought he was being too sarcastic. After all, what would life be like with four women in the house? Cecil had told her that life with them would be wonderful. Somehow, the conversation had drifted to other things that he couldn’t even remember now that he was trying to figure out how it all had started. He could remember that the morning had been pleasant until the accident happened.

      They spent most of the morning just browsing through small shops in town and he found an interesting book about vampires. They had lunch at a small café and started back toward Crystal Bay hoping to arrive there early in the afternoon. By the time they reached SR 17 the stifling heat was almost unbearable. Puffy clouds moved slowly across a clear blue sky. Some had dark bottoms reminding him of sailing ships. Tall towering thunderheads in the west worried him. Cecil watched the water temperature gauge on the dashboard as the old Corsica had a habit of overheating in extremely hot weather. Setting the air conditioning on low hoping the engine wouldn’t overheat, he settled down focusing his attention on his driving. Beverly was quiet for a little while and then seemed to grow restless. Cecil glanced at her occasionally hardly able to keep his eyes off her. Trying to think of a subject to keep her interested, he sorted through everything from the weather to sports and was unable to come up with one single subject they both were interested in. Didn’t they have anything in common? After all these years, he finally realized that they shared very little they both were interested in.

      Ever since they’d known each other, they had spent their time together reading books they liked, going to the park and maybe to a movie every now and then. Dining out, watching television and discussing his work took up most of their time when they were together. They’d had little time to actually discover things they both really liked to do. He knew she didn’t like most sports except for hockey or an occasional football game. He didn’t hold that against her, he didn’t care a lot about sports either. She loved old movies, loved to read and had often expressed an interest in sailing. Cecil didn’t particularly care about water, especially when it was as big as the Atlantic Ocean where evil things dwelled below the surface. He did like old movies and he did like to read. He had smiled when he realized they actually did share a few common interests.

      Now, Cecil attempted to adjust his gaze as he looked out the window almost choking on the summer heat. Thinking about what had happened made him feel sad, lost and insecure. Knowing he would have to be strong—for himself and for Beverly—he let his mind drift back to earlier that morning in the Corsica as they made their way home hoping he could figure out what had really happened. Sometimes the images were just a blur and he knew the reason for their transparency. In truth, he didn’t want to think about it because it brought pangs of sorrowful pain to his already overburdened heart. His lack of attentiveness to driving had caused the accident. He was sure of it.

      If only he had kept his mind on driving instead of on Beverly, they both would be fine now instead of her being in a hospital bed and him having headaches, double vision and dizziness. No matter how hard he tried to put it all out of his mind, he still dwelled on the accident.

      Cecil had occasionally let his attention drift from the road to Beverly. Her sweet smile, her beautiful eyes and her charm mesmerized him. Beverly was being her usual cheerful self while teasing him about his taste in literature. Holding the book about vampires in front of her eyes as if she didn’t want to miss one exciting word, she read the first page to him. Do you really believe this stuff?

      Of course I don’t believe it, he said as they passed a slow moving tourist from Kentucky on the two-lane highway. I don’t believe it, but a lot of people do take the vampire legends seriously. Actually, vampires and werewolves have been around since humans walked out of their caves. Dozens of legends have sprung up about them. There are variations in the stories, nonetheless, they all tell about the same thing. It makes interesting reading and people still enjoy reading about them. The movies have added to the confusion about what the original legends actually said. I intend to make my next novel the best vampire story ever written. Who knows, maybe I’ll write about werewolves instead. They’re quite popular, too.

      He passed the slow-moving tourist about a quarter of a mile before he reached a curve.

      Everything about the incident was clear in his mind as he fought to get the double vision to go away. Nothing he did helped. He squinted his eyes, rolled them around and looked in every direction hoping that it would disappear. It didn’t. The damned affliction hung in there like a leech sticking to wet skin. Realizing that he had a problem that would take some time to get rid of, he let his mind drift back to what happened next.

      In his mind, he saw the curve ahead and remembered how he had slowed down. With his attention focused on Beverly and her witticism about his reading habits, he didn’t notice the truck coming at him on the wrong side of the road until it was too late. Hearing a horn blaring, he looked at the truck just in time to turn the steering wheel to the right. A tire exploded on the old Corsica and they went upon the shoulder of the road, through a wire fence and into a field barely missing several trees.

      The rough field jolted them around in the vehicle. Cecil remembered hitting his head against the steering wheel as the car came to a sudden stop. The air bags activated and he heard Beverly screaming. Dizzy, he managed to get his door open and stumbled out onto soft grass. With a lot of effort, he managed to get the passenger door open just as the truck driver came running across the field.

      Call an ambulance, Cecil yelled as the frightened driver pulled a cell phone out of his shirt pocket. With the help of the driver, they managed to get her out of the car and put her on a blanket on the ground. They moved her to the shade of a tall oak far enough from the crumbled wreck so that if it exploded, she would be safe. Her light blonde hair was in a mess, she had a cut on her cheek and she screamed when they moved her. Cecil looked into her sky blue eyes and knew that she was in a lot of pain. We had to get you out of the car, he said, apologetically. I thought it might explode.

      It’s okay, she whispered. I think my arm is broken and my chest hurts.

      Cecil had never felt so helpless in his life. With a splitting headache, his dark hair and forehead covered with sweat, he sat on the grass near her comforting her until the ambulance arrived. While the police conducted an investigation, Cecil rode in the ambulance with her to the hospital. In the emergency room, they ran several tests on her. When the doctors discovered the extent of her injuries, they told her she would be with them for a few days.

      Worried about Beverly, concerned that her injuries were worse than the doctors thought they might be, Cecil had undergone two CAT scans and an MRI. The doctors told him that he was okay, except that if he experienced dizziness or any other symptoms that didn’t appear normal, to return to the emergency room immediately.

      Wishing that he had been injured instead of Beverly, he pushed the thoughts into the back of his mind as he made his way to the nurse’s station on the first floor. Beverly was in one of the private rooms in the hall by the nursing station. He had been unable to see her because she was so heavily sedated. The nurse at the desk told him he could visit with her next day. Concerned doctors wanted her to get plenty of rest. The nurse told him they would transfer Beverly to Crystal Bay General Hospital later that afternoon where she would rest until she was feeling better. The Augusta hospital was crowded and people were waiting for rooms. Sighing, he felt relieved that she would be within a few miles of him instead of in Augusta where it would be harder for him to visit her now that his car was in a garage.

      With a heavy heart, he had called a cab and returned to Crystal Bay.

      Now, he sat in front of a window in his house staring out at a scene that was as confusing to him as anything could be. Everything he looked at appeared double. It was as if he were watching two movies at the same time, or a television show that was extremely out of focus. Peter Stevens, the little kid across the street with cerebral palsy slowly walked up the street with a baseball glove in his hand. The malady had affected his left leg and Peter had to wear a brace to help keep his leg from collapsing. Without the brace, he would fall every time he attempted to stand up. Cecil smiled when he realized that Peter Stevens was lucky that the disease hadn’t crippled him even worse than he was. Cecil had talked to him a few times and really liked him. Having to deal with a crippling disease was something that he was familiar with.

      When Cecil closed one eye, he only saw one image, however, when he opened it, he saw two images of the kid. What am I going to do now, he wondered to himself. I can’t drive or do much of anything else.

      The truth paraded in front of him like a thousand clowns with frowns on their solemn faces. This wasn’t something that would go away in a few days and he knew it. Had he suffered a stroke? The right side of his face felt as if it were swelled. His skin felt cold and partially numb when he touched it, especially around his eye. Oh, well, he thought, I’ll do what I have to do just as I always have done.

      Wondering if he should get a cab and go back to the emergency room, he finally decided that it would be best to wait until next day. By then, he would know for sure if this were something that might last longer than a few days. The doctors should be able to tell him something about what had happened. He wanted to see Beverly anyway and if the difficulty hadn’t cleared up by next day, he would mention it to his doctor. Cecil was quite sure that it was only temporary. The CAT scan and the MRI hadn’t shown any damage to his brain. He had one small knot on the side of his head near his right eye. The doctor told him that it would disappear in a few days. He did not have a concussion or anything to worry about. At least, that was what the doctor said, he told the walls. He hoped the doctor was right.

      The house was quiet and Cecil almost drifted off to sleep as he watched the kids play in the street. Feeling drowsy, he decided to make coffee and check his eyes in the mirror in the bathroom. Maybe he could see if anything was wrong with them. When he got up from his chair, he almost fell twice before he got to the bathroom. Losing his balance wasn’t something he was used to.

      In the bathroom, he turned on the light and stood staring at a dark haired man with blue eyes and a purple knot on the side of his head. Cecil knew something was awry when he stared into his own eyes. One of his eyes seemed to be abnormal. His right eye didn’t move to the left when he attempted to look to the left as it normally should. Immediately, he knew that something was wrong. His right eye would only move from center to the right. It will pass, he muttered as he wandered toward the kitchen. It’s just a temporary setback.

      Cecil stood in front of the refrigerator holding the door open trying to decide if a cold beer was better in the suffocating heat than a hot cup of coffee. Trying to adjust his vision so he could see which of the cans were real and which ones were illusions, he finally closed one eye and grabbed the nearest one. Damn, he said as he closed the

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