Under a White Hot Moon: Howl of the Weredingo

Commuovere Stories

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First published in Australia in 2019. Copyright Rufus Halloran, all rights reserved.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons or events are purely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, sold or transmitted in any form without the author’s prior written consent.

A Weredingo Novel

Under a White Hot Moon

By Rufus Halloran

This story is set in Sydney and surrounding New South Wales, Australia, in the year 2009.

Table of contents

Chapter 1: Under a White Hot Moon

Chapter 2: Goin’ to the Chapel

Chapter 3: Howl of the Weredingo

Chapter 4: Blood in the Water

Chapter 5: Feathers and Flames

Chapter 6: King Nothing

Under a White Hot Moon

Chapter 1

A shrill scream pierced the otherwise quiet bushland.

Luke! Leave your sister alone, Don shouted. They were on a family camping trip and his kids were playing in a clearing near the campsite. The game was like ‘tip’, but instead of just tagging someone with your hand, you had to flick their ear. Sarah had flicked Luke and now he was pinching her as she screamed and ran away.

The sun was falling over Wolgan Valley and it was almost dinnertime. Despite the near dark, Don was wearing his wide-brimmed bush hat, and currently he was pitched in an intense struggle with the plastic wrap around some BBQ sausages. He always took care of the cooking on these odd occasions when they ate outdoors.

This place is as old as time, a perfect preserved piece of Australia, Don said to his wife Linda. It’s not hard to imagine what it would have been like thousands of years ago. He chuckled but she blinked a little heavy and breathed out her mouth.

Don was an accountant at a big firm in Sydney with neat black hair, lily white skin and podgy around the edges. His whole body was a side effect of sitting around all day under florescent lighting. Normally, he wore a grey suit, but today he had his hat and his red flannel shirt on, a real camping man.

The sausages eventually made it to the campfire hotplate with a sharp sizzle and pop. Don poured some of his light beer onto the plate to cool it down, and Linda gave him a smile. Yeah, this place is lovely Don, Linda said. It’s ironic though isn’t it?

What? Don said.

They had a coal mine down here once, and now they have that whopping new resort. Then there are the campers, said Linda. Don looked a little short changed, but then another scream from the kids broke their conversation.

Right you two, Don yelled to the kids. Dinner’s nearly ready. Pack up your toys and get over here before it gets dark. He threw the foam sausage tray into the fire, all crinkled and still dripping with watery blood. It hissed and flared, and Linda gave him a fierce look for burning the plastic. Sorry love, he said.

Darkness had fallen completely now and moths buzzed around the nearby camping table, which held a lamp along with tomato and BBQ sauce bottles sitting in the open. The campsite went silent as they all ate their sausages and bread while staring into the campfire. Don thought about having another beer or taking the kids out spotlighting, but they started playing up again as soon as the food ran out.

Instead, Linda organised them for bed, brushing their teeth and talking calmly before helping them climb into their sleeping bags. Mummy and daddy will be in soon, she said before kissing them both on the forehead and crawling backwards out of the tent awkwardly. The kids were tired and she could see them already starting to drift off to sleep.

Don tidied the campsite after dinner, except for the toys strewn around the area, and was now topping up the billy to make tea on the fire. Linda sat down and Don shuffled his chair over so he could sit close to his wife, but he struggled to find solid ground and so had to sit slightly further away than he wanted.

Linda wasn’t much of an outdoors person and she seemed to dress to prove that point. She had on a white puffy jacket, trackies and a plain blue shirt with a V-neck that she normally sported around the house. A fine gold crucifix glistening in the campfire light rested on her lightly freckled chest. They weren’t overly religious but she liked to hold onto that as it was important to her.

Don admired her features in the low light, noticing a slight upturned smile and pleasant expression on her face. A few wisps of light brown hair had escaped her pulled-back ponytail and he wanted to stroke them back into place. Instead, he reached out to touch her hand, but it was just a little too far away to be comfortable. Then the chair unbalanced so that he ended up steadying himself on her arm instead.

Linda began to feign confusion, but Don had quickly moved his soft-skinned hand to hers and was squeezing lightly. She looked at his eyebrows raised suggestively, a cheeky grin on his face. Donnnnn, she said with playful exasperation. He pleaded with big brown eyes that were mostly pupil. C’mon hun, we can be quiet.

Linda smiled and for a moment Don considered standing, not really sure what he would do next but he knew he needed to move things on. But then, Linda changed her tone and seemed to get more serious about it. Don! No, the kids are sleeping just over there. At that moment the wind changed and the smoke stung their eyes. The billy started to boil too, so Don stood up anyway while Linda closed her eyes and clamped her lips until the waft turned in another direction. They had some tea in the quiet.

It wasn’t much later when Don found himself drifting off to sleep in his camp chair. He worked long days through the week, so when night time came he found it hard to stay awake even though he tried. Eventually it was no use fighting it any longer, and they both got up to brush their teeth together. Linda was untying her sneakers when Don said, Just need to pop to the bathroom love.

Okay, be careful, said Linda. Don grabbed a torch and trudged off towards the thick, dark bushland that stood at the edge of the campsite, tripping on one of the kid’s bikes that lay hidden in the grass as he went.

It was February and there were only a few other campers around. Don could see some young guys off in the distance, drinking beers and listening to some harsh-sounding music. There were also a couple of tents over the river too, but you couldn’t see much through the trees. A month ago, this campground would’ve been packed, but now, as far as Don was concerned, it was perfect. The stars stretched out above in perfect clarity like an enormous crystal and diamond river, and a large full moon crested just over the edge of the valley walls.

Don walked a few metres into the bush, careful to watch for any toilet paper or related business from irresponsible campers. He lowered his zip and breathed a heavy sigh as a steady stream flowed out, releasing the pressure on his abdomen. Don was about to finish up, but then he remembered the moment at the campsite before. Linda’s coy smile and exposed collarbones entered his mind.

Don took a few awkward steps away from the wet patch at his feet. The slope on the ground meant he had to climb a little bit further into the bush to be comfortable, and even though it was only ten or so metres, the campground was already a little obscured through the brush. No wonder people got lost, he thought, before his mind moved back to Linda.

He always thought of Linda when he masturbated, it felt too much like cheating otherwise. In his mind’s eye, he could see her face, cheeky and lustful, as he moved into a standing position above her. Running her tongue along her teeth, he imagined her taking his cock out of his pants and eagerly taking it in her mouth.

Don’s arm speed increased as he imagined her lips sliding rhythmically back and forth. His arm was really pumping now, his mind fully immersed in the fantasy as his body was about to climax. In the darkness in front of him, a large branch snapped loudly causing Don to freeze mid pump.

He went from fantasy to frozen when he heard a guttural growl creeping out from the darkness. Maroon eyes, tan and black fur and a wrinkled nose above sharp white teeth followed the sound. He really had no time to think.

It looked like a dingo, only bigger and meaner. Don, exposed penis still in hand, could only stand frozen as the snarling creature seemed to get lower on its haunches. It struck so rapidly that Don could only turn and wail before it had him under its paws. He instinctively let go of himself and brought his arms up into the jaws of the beast to protect his face and neck.

It clamped down hard, shredding his skin as he screamed into the night. As the dingo mauled his arm, Linda heard the commotion from the tent and switched the torch back on. The kids stirred with half-asleep questions, but she told them to stay put as she hurriedly clambered outside and rushed to put on her sneakers. She could hear Don screaming, so she knew something was up and quickened her pace.

Grabbing the lamp from the camp table, Linda moved through the darkness, tripping on a bike hidden in the grass as she went. Don! She called, panic rising in her chest. Torches were going on at other campsites too as people stood to turn off their stereos and see what was happening.

Everything went quiet, and Linda found herself at the edge of the campground looking for any signs of her husband. There was a rustling through the trees and horror touched her skin turning it into cold gooseflesh. The ferns and smaller bushes snapped and swished, and then suddenly Don stumbled out, nearly falling over as he emerged from the bush. He was swearing, which was unusual, and holding his arm dripping with blood.

What the hell happened! Linda said.

Bloody dingo bit me. My arm… said Don. He was in a bit of a shock, but his pants were up.

Oh god, Don! Linda started crying and he comforted her as they hobbled away back to their campsite. Other campers were arriving and vehicles were kicking to life. The peace, and the camping trip, was over.

29 Days Later

Well Mr Milton, your arm is looking good. You must be a fast healer, said Dr Campbell. Don ran his hands over the fresh pink scar tissue that had replaced the teeth marks on his arm.

Did they end up finding the dog that attacked you? Asked the doctor.

It wasn’t a dog, said Don. It was a dingo.

Dr Campbell chuckled. I haven’t heard of too many dingo attacks in the Blue Mountains, Don. They’re unlikely to attack humans, unless of course it’s an infant or something stupid is going on. More likely a stray dog gone wild.

Don went a little red thinking back to that night. After the mauling, he’d managed to put himself back together before stumbling out of the bush, thank god. With all the commotion, the dingo let go and disappeared pretty quick after the struggle.

Anything else you need Don? Said Dr Campbell. Don’s eyes sunk a little deeper into his head before resettling his mouth into an awkward grimace.

No. Thanks mate.

Don left the doctor’s clinic and emerged into the sprawling Sydney CBD. It was a Wednesday and there were people everywhere, but he needed to grab some wine for a BBQ tonight at Victoria’s place.

Victoria was Linda’s friend from high school and they caught up semi-regularly, or at least as often as family life would allow. Tonight, though, the kids were staying with Don’s parents, which meant they could let their hair down a little. Don remembered when they were young, he would tip more than his fair share of beers. Those were wild days, he thought to himself.

Don ducked through the crowd and headed to the nearest bottle shop to grab a couple of $15 Barossa reds before starting the hour-long journey back to the suburbs on the train. He was walking briskly and had to jump through the sliding doors to avoid missing it and waiting another 25 minutes for the next one.

He normally checked the carriage before getting on as he hated the groups of teenage/young twenty something loiterers, but the quick entry meant Don missed the opportunity this time. He went down the stairs to the lower level of the carriage and sure enough there was a group of young bucks. Worse, they’d obviously been drinking, and someone had loud music playing through portable speakers from their phone.

Don knew on a long trip to the Shire they would eventually turn their attention to him, but he sat down anyway. It was only about 10 minutes later when one of them bounced along the isle before swinging into the seat beside him, stinking of beer and cheap aerosol ‘deodorant cologne’. The drunken kid started talking but he was doing it in a ‘Forrest Gump’ impersonation style, which sent his friends keeling with laughter.

Uh excuse me sir, said the kid. Do y’all ever think, now’s the time to just start running? The laughter saw one of them fall to the floor. Don said nothing and awkwardly looked out the window. This was the wrong move apparently. Hey! I’m talking to you mate!

Don shifted uncomfortably as he realised the kid looked a bit rough.