The Howling II

27

ON CALLE VERDE, the minutes dragged slowly on into the afternoon. Nervous sweat soaked through Chris Halloran's shirt under both arms and between the shoulder blades. He paced constantly about the big musty room while Tulio Santos worked with saw, hammer, and file to fashion a knife blade from the silver tea tray.

He came to a stop behind Santos and watched the man slowly, slowly shape the cutting edge of the blade. "Can't you speed it up?" he said, then groped for the Spanish words. "Puede usted trabaja mas rapido?"

Santos turned and looked at him with an injured expression. "Senor," he said formally, "estoy un artesano, no mecanico."

"All right, all right, I'm sorry," Chris said. "Just — continue."

Santos nodded gravely and went back to his work.

At the small dock below the Palacio del Mar Hotel the glass-bottomed boat eased into its mooring. It stopped with a soft bump as the wooden dock nudged the old automobile tires lashed to the side of the boat. Karyn stood up on the deck and searched the faces of the people waiting on shore, looking for Chris Halloran. He was not there. Karyn was surprised, however, to see Audrey Vance. The girl was standing apart from the people waiting to take the next cruise. She looked directly at Karyn.

The gangplank was lowered and Karyn crossed to the dock. Audrey came toward her at once. There was an odd brightness in the girl's eyes, but Audrey did not seem to have been drinking.

"Hi," Audrey said. She smiled tentatively.

Karyn did not return the smile. She nodded in greeting and waited for the girl to say whatever was on her mind.

"Karyn, I don't blame you for thinking I'm a bitch," Audrey said. "God knows I've acted like one. It was plain, childish jealousy. I'm ashamed of myself, really I am. I didn't understand the way it was between you and Chris."

"Don't worry about it," Karyn said.

"I'm awfully glad you feel that way. I wish you and I could have got off to a better start. I think we might have been friends. I was just telling Chris that."

"Chris is here?"

"No. He came back from town while you were out on the boat, but he had to leave again right away. He asked me to give you a message."

"What message?"

"He said he wants you to come and meet him at the cabin of the gypsy. I don't know what he meant, but he said you would understand."

Karyn stared at the younger woman. Why would Chris trust her with an important message like this? Maybe there was no one else…

"Chris said it was urgent," Audrey went on. "As a matter of fact, he said life and death. He wouldn't tell me any more, but I know he was deadly serious."

"You say he wants me to go to the gypsy's cabin?" Karyn repeated. "Right away?"

"That's what he said. Repeated it several times to make sure I had it right."

Karyn calculated rapidly. It was now early afternoon. If she started immediately she could reach the cabin before dark, but she could never complete the return trip. Chris must have an awfully good reason for subjecting both of them to the danger of night in the mountains.

"He didn't say anything else?" she asked. "Give you a reason?"

Audrey shook her head. "Oh, I almost forgot." She dug into a pocket of her snug white jeans. "Chris said I should give you this. That you would know what it meant."

Karyn took the lump of silver metal from the girl's hand. A bullet. Scarred and misshapen, but unmistakably one of the silver bullets Chris had made to fight the wolves of Drago. What did it mean? That he was successful in getting a new weapon? But what had that to do with the gypsy's cabin? Whatever the meaning, the silver bullet convinced Karyn that the message came from Chris.

"What's it all about, Karyn?" Audrey asked, her eyes wide.

"I'm not sure myself," Karyn said distractedly. She started for the hotel, then turned back. "Thank you, Audrey. Thanks for the message."

"Heck, that's all right. Listen, is there anything I can do to help?"

"No. No, there's nothing. Excuse me now, I have to get going."

Karyn hurried up the slope toward the hotel. She did not see Audrey's small, cold smile as the girl watched her go.

There were no other messages for her at the desk. She went to her room and hurriedly changed to outdoor clothes. She prayed that there would be good news when she met Chris at the cabin. That the long nightmare would be over.

Back out in front of the hotel she looked for the taxi of Luis Zarate, but the old Plymouth was not there. She would like to have had Luis, but there was no time to try to find him. Another cab drove up. A middle-aged couple got out, wearing straw sombreros with MAZATLAN lettered across the brims. Karyn hurried up to the driver.

"Do you know a man called Guillermo, the one who keeps the burros for riding in the mountains?"

"I know him."

"Will you take me there?"

"The road to Guillermo's place is very bad. I will have to charge extra."

"I don't care. Just take me there."

Karyn did not wait for the driver to open the door for her. She got in and slammed it firmly behind her. The man backed the taxi around and started off toward the highway.

At last the knife was finished. Chris had been eager to take the weapon the moment Santos finished shaping the cutting edge of the blade. It was seven inches of businesslike metal with a thin, bare, four-inch shank for the handle. However, Santos had heatedly refused to turn it over without a proper handle. Angry at first, Chris had cooled down when he saw the practicality of this. For the purpose he intended the knife, a solid grip would be essential.

So he had sweated out another half-hour while Santos dug up a rusted hunting knife from some-where among the refuse. The craftsman dismantled the old knife, took the carved wooden handle with finger grips and affixed it solidly to the silver blade.

Santos was still not satisfied with the balance of the weapon, but Chris took it away from him and peeled off several bills in payment. Santos gave him the leather sheath with belt loop that had gone with the hunting knife. Chris slipped the silver blade into the sheath, fastened it in, and hurried out into the street.

He had expected to hail a taxi immediately to take him back to the hotel, but the street was deserted. Not only was there no taxi in sight, there were no moving vehicles of any kind. Chris wheeled and ran back into the shop of Tulio Santos.

"Necesitamo un taxi!"

Santos shook his head and smiled sadly. "No taxi aqui. Nunca taxi en Calle Verde."

Chris swore under his breath. "Hay telefono?"

Again Santos shook his head.

"Damn," Chris muttered. He went back out to the street. The building fronts were blank, the doors closed, the windows shuttered and forbidding. Shadows were growing longer as night moved in on the city.

Chris slammed a fist into his open palm. By this time Karyn would be wondering what was keeping him. One thing was certain — standing here on this empty, darkening street would gain him nothing.

He started to run. He headed west, because that's where the city was. There were bound to be taxis, policemen, something. The silver knife in its sheath bounced against his hip. As he ran he made sure he did not lose the weapon. He knew that somewhere tonight he was going to have to use it.