Chapter Twenty-Nine
August 2006
We had to fly into Medford, Oregon from London.
An SUV was waiting for us when we landed.
After thirteen hours in the air, I desperately needed a workout to loosen the kinks. With Amelia impatiently tapping her foot, though, I had to settle for a quick jog around the hangar. Then I got in the driver’s seat and followed the GPS to Interstate 5.
Thirty-three miles to Hwy 96.
“Now we’re out here, what’s the objective?”
“We’ll be briefed at our destination.”
“We? Or me? Since when do you not know the details of an assignment?”
Amelia watched the scenery go by. “The Forest Service asked for help.”
“With?”
“Seven, exercise some patience. We have a two-hour drive ahead.”
It was nice scenery. Streams. Green stuff. Mountains. We passed through the Cascade-Siskiyou National Monument area to reach the border with California.
Forests were still a novelty to me. Not a lot of tall pines in Oklahoma.
The interstate took us along foothills with tiny creeks running by. Hornbrook was at 2172 feet. The mountains to the west were closer after that. Wasn’t too long before the sign for 96 came into view and the GPS told me to take the connection.
After 1:00, the sun was bright overhead and air hot. The AC blasted my face, but my back was sweating. On 96, the GPS updated to tell me to head to Happy Camp, about seventy miles west. Wound around some hills, then entered the Klamath National Forest. 96 was traveling along the Klamath River.
“This is beautiful.”
“I suppose,” Amelia murmured. I glanced over and her eyes were shut.
I shook my head. Thirteen had made a good point in Malibu about appreciating the beauty in a place touched by evil so we always remembered what we were protecting. I may not be a fan of big cities, but give me all the nature. Earth’s wonders would’ve remained on the TV screen without this job.
Hwy 96 guided me past a Post Office and tiny communities labeled Oakbar, Horse Creek, and Hamburg, to Seiad Valley. I spotted a sign for the Seiad Café and made a diversion.
“Are we there?” Amelia asked, straightening in her seat.
“No. I’m hungry.”
“Seven—”
“I haven’t had a proper meal since yesterday. I’m going to have lunch. Unless you want me driving a winding road with low blood sugar?”
She went silent.
I shut the door. Good grief, it was hot! It’d been a while since I’d been past ninety degrees and still wasn’t fond of it. I entered the tiny Seiad Café and gained a little relief.
Ordered a cheeseburger.
I’d been served a Coke by the time Amelia trailed in. “I’ll be in the market,” she said.
Okay. If we needed supplies, she knew better than I.
All these little valleys had only a couple hundred people here and there. People who clearly wanted a slow and secluded life with few neighbors. Those who left while I waited for my burger were tourists with hiking backpacks. Easy to believe Hwy 96 had more campers sleeping along it than full-time residents—which really made me curious what we were supposed to find in Happy Camp.
What had the forest rangers called in for?
Waitress set down my plate. “Anything else?”
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“How’s the wildlife spotting this summer? My friend and I are hoping for good photos.”
She popped her gum. “Backpackin’?”
“Nah. Little hiking as we pass through.”
She shrugged. “Same as always. Ask next door.” She went back into the kitchen.
O-kay.
Bit into the cheeseburger—not bad—and checked my watch. Despite annoying Amelia for a little payback, my mind was on the mission and I wasn’t going to dilly-dally. Ate, paid, and braced myself for the heat outside to search for my Guide.
She was still in the small store, chatting up the clerk at the register. This certainly wasn’t a full-stock grocery, but there were plenty of snacks and trail food options. I came into her view, then went back to the car to start the engine and get the AC crankin’. Still had nineteen miles to drive. She came out of the store carrying several bags and took them to the rear.
“What is all that?”
“Supplies.” She shut the lift gate.
“I should just introduce you to people as Evasive now.”
Opened the passenger door. “Let’s go, we haven’t got all day.”
More miles of tree-speckled hills along the river. Sometimes the forest was dense.
We passed Fort Goff Campground. The road then wound right, and houses started to pop out of clearings here and there. A left curve revealed dirt roads to more settlements, driveways to houses. A few miles of hairpins, then a sign for the Klamath River Resort Inn.
I soon discovered that was the gateway for the town of Happy Camp.
It was a proper little town, a sign indicating a population of 1,190. Markets, churches, gas stations, mechanics, schools… “Where am I stopping, Amelia?” I was going to wind around the village until she piped up. “Hey, there’s an airstrip.” I’d spotted a small plane coming in for a landing. “Could’ve flown in and saved time.”
“But then we’d be stranded without transportation.”
“And we need an SUV?” I stopped in front of the Happy Camp/Oak Knoll Ranger District building.
“Just park.”
Fine. I did. We waited.
A man tapped on Amelia’s window wearing the ranger uniform. “You’re here about the wolf problem?” he said.
Amelia handed him her badge.
“There’s a cabin for you at Elk Creek Campground to meet up with the rest of your party.” He handed her an envelope and walked away. She closed the window.
“Wolf? Party?” I wiped sweat off my nose. “Why didn’t you say it’s a werewolf hunt?”
“Head south, please.”
Fine.
She directed me to the campground and a cabin. The Sportsmen’s Cabin. It had a large porch. The envelope contained the key. The cabin had a kitchen, living room, and one bedroom.
“If it’s not just us, where do you expect others to sleep?”
Amelia ignored my question in favor of going back to the SUV for her supplies. At least the kitchen explained her stop at the market. I opened up the bedroom and bathroom. Nothing here was remotely new, but it was clean. Beat sleeping in the car.
She returned laden with bags.
I went outside to scope out our surroundings. Elk Creek Campground was on the other side of the river from the highway and surrounded by and spotted with trees. We’d crossed the bridge on Elk Creek Road and the eastern side of Happy Camp’s valley was untouched forest. That would make coming and going from the campground with stealth easier to do. A bunch of leather-coated ninjas running around during the full moon would bring a lot of questions.
I grabbed the luggage.
“Amelia why are you being so secretive? Normally, you want me over-prepared for a mission. What is with the attitude?”
She sighed and closed the refrigerator. “We are hunting werewolves, but The Council also wanted this to be a training mission. The town already uses searches for Bigfoot as fodder for tourism, so anything strange that might happen won’t cause much of a stir.”
“How many are we expecting?”
“Unknown. They’ll arrive by plane in the wee hours of the morning.”
“Why would rangers call for help about wolves?”
“Because wolves of the canine family are extinct in California and have been for a very long time.” Okay, fair enough.
“What’s their evidence?”
“Howls that do not belong to coyotes and unusually large footprints.”
Not much to go on. “So no sudden pet disappearances or human attacks?”
She shook her head. “If there are werewolves in this forest, we’re catching the problem early. That rarely happens. We must make the best of it.”
“Okay.”
First things first—weapons case. Tranq rifles were part of the kit for this use, along with a dozen darts. Restraints made of silver, too. And if we had to take lethal action, silver bullets. I loaded my coat with the appropriate supplies while sitting on the blue ‘80s sofa.
“Did the nice ranger include coordinates for the wolves?”
“There’s a marked map based on hiker reports.” Amelia was on her laptop.
“The nightly low?”
“Average of forty degrees Fahrenheit at this time of year.” She shivered. “Who wants to live in such extremes voluntarily?”
“People that like to fish for steelhead.”
“What?” Her glasses slid down the bridge of her nose.
“Trout.”
“Oh.” By the tone, she wasn’t a fish fan.
“So, if we find any weyrs, how are we extracting them to a treatment center? The plane?”
She tapped keys. “I suppose it depends on how many there are.”
Great…
Most werewolves were people oblivious to the change during the day. Then with the cycle of the full moon, they woke up naked in strange places not knowing how they got there and why. A lot of people in Happy Camp didn’t live on top of their neighbors, so the infected person could be sneaking home without any notice.
Most properties didn’t have fences, and with all the trees…
But it was also possible the person knew they’d become a werewolf and moved here because it was so remote. We had case files of people that tried to live with the disease without locking themselves up during full moons.
None of them ended well.
“If we’re stuck waiting ‘til mornin’, I say we have dinner in town and get to know the locals. A town this small, everyone knows everyone, and someone’s bound to gossip.”
“If you like.”
Happy Camp had one restaurant and one coffee house, and the gift shop with coffee was only open on weekends. This was Tuesday.
“Pizza House closes at eight.”
“Mm-hm.”
Since we had a full kitchen, I’d feed myself there and order a large cheese pie for whoever was coming.