Hunter's Moon

By kd Alexander

Astronomy was never meant to be this lethal.

For the first time, the skies above Lyton City are dominated by two moons - one corpse white, the other blood red, painting a perfect canvas for a paranormal urban fantasy. As planetary forces draw Earth and Mars unnervingly close, the city descends into unparalleled chaos.

For fans of urban fantasy, Lyton City offers a surreal twist on police procedurals.

Police work's always been weird, but in Lyton City, it's gotten otherworldly.

The city's descent into chaos seems almost poetic. As Earth and Mars draw closer than ever before, Detective Michael Wilfrey finds himself navigating challenges that his police academy days could never have prepared him for.

A sinister drug named "pain" courses through the streets, and brutal, inexplicable crimes are becoming the city's gruesome norm. But it's not just the tangible threats that Wilfrey has to contend with. There are whispers of ancient evils, and shadows that seem just a bit too sentient.

Every investigation takes him deeper into the heart of Lyton's mysteries. But with every clue he unravels, he draws the attention of forces that defy understanding.

HUNTER'S MOON is where urban grit meets uncanny mysteries. Step into a city transformed by cosmic events, where Detective Wilfrey stands as the last bulwark against the encroaching darkness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: kd Alexander
• Release date: Nov 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215976821

kd Alexander

I write like Michael Bay directs.Put simply, I grew up in a strange time, where parachute pants were cool, and hyper-flourescent colors were all the rage. Cheesy action shows and even cheesier sitcoms fed my television addiction. Comic Books opened my eyes to all sorts of things that my parents would not approve of.Gold Eagle was publishing dirty books that I was never allowed to read. They were full of exotic locations and high stakes adventures. But, the cover art alone convinced my mom that they needed to be passed by. So, instead, she let me read Dragon Lance, Shadowrun, Dark Sun, and Redwall. No really. I was surprised too!When I became a real boy, I made a point to read all the pulpy good stuff I was never allowed to read as a kid. Characters like Conan the Barbarian, Doc Savage, the Shadow, Mack Bolan, and even a little unicorn named Ariel became some of my new heroes.And as a writer, I try to go back to that sense of wonder and adventure that I loved reading about when I was a kid. There’s nothing like the high you get when a book sucks you in. And as you come back to reality, letting the world slowly come back into focus, I hope that you were entertained.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Celluloid static punctuated the air. Outside, the weather was frightful as a storm ravaged across the city of Lyton. Snow twirled down from the heavens before being swept across the empty streets by a cold north wind. Power flickered in and out, lights dimmed and bulbs popped. Drifts worked their way up the sides of front doors and threatened to spill over roofs. A hearth burned nearby as an old woman luxuriated in a mansion two times too large for her. She turned up the volume so it wouldn’t compete with the wind and weather.

Good evening and thank you for joining us for this telecast. We begin with breaking news, Action 12’s own weather guru, Rocky Roberts is standing by. Rocky, can you hear us?

Thanks, Katie. We are live tonight from the Barth Planetarium where eager skywatchers are gearing up for this once in a lifetime event. You can’t see it now, but the red planet, Mars is closer than it’s been in the history of modern events. This whacky, unseasonable weather is a product of our new moon. You can expect more of the unexpected over the next two weeks. I’m expecting this blizard to blow itself out within the next hour or two. You might want to go outside and take a peak before it’s all gone.

Thanks Rocky, and don’t forget you can send us your pictures of this crazy weather on social media.

In other news tonight, two are dead in a troubled neighborhood off of Wulfe Avenue. Reports from police indicate that a local gang may be to blame. Neighbors reported finding a decapitated skull at the location of the crime.

Oh. Gruesome!

Over the next couple days, police are asking your help with reporting trespassers at Lake Magnolia Cemetery. They say that teenagers have been breaking into the grounds after hours and doing drugs. Report suspicious activity immediately to 9-1-1.

We’ve also received conflicting reports indicating that a pack of wild dogs seems to be terrorizing local families. But some are calling it a Halloween hoax. Ashlee Waters has the story. Ashlee?

That’s right Katie. We’re out here in the Foothills neighborhood of Lyton City where a resident, James Pantovia awoke to find a horrific scene.

Well, last night I went to bed at like eleven. I checked to make sure all my chickens were in their cages and tucked in for bed. This morning when I woke up, all the cages were broken. And… and..

That’s when James Pantovia said he saw something so terrifying it broke his heart to even talk about. His prized chickens were gone, left mutilated in the middle of a field. It was a scene too graphic for television. We will not be showing you those pictures.

Mr. Pantovia reported hearing a loud howling last night before bed. He thought he was dreaming. Could this be a vicious pack of dogs on the loose? Or a wild animal more terrifying?

She drifted off to a sleep plagued with the nightmares of a world ending. In her dreams, she saw the earth being torn asunder and giant pillars of stone jutting from the core. Monsters spewed forth from a fissure in the sky.

There was chanting, somewhere deep in her subconscious. Black shapes gathered in an unholy mass. A dragon drifted in and out, scorching the earth with belched flame.

Thunder sounded in the distance.

Ice fell like rain from a bloody nose above.

CHAPTER ONE

Black shapes flittered across the midnight moons, dark wings against a darker sky. Robert Parker lay back, the crook of his arm resting against the cold stone of the cemetery monument. Above, the clouds passed like silent shadows across the frosted ground below.

Robert sighed, the red light of Mars peaked out from beneath gray clouds. The steely gaze of the moon sat tucked comfortably between spider-webs of gray and black.

Devil’s Night. He clucked his tongue against stained teeth; the one in the back hurt. He reached into his mouth, gingerly pressing against his broken crown. The nerves exploded in violent pain and he swore he’d make the bastard pay.

But his cash was light, the last was long gone to the plastic bag he fingered inside of his pocket. There was still time, of how much he was uncertain. School would be a bitch tomorrow. He thought idly of playing hooky. If he could stave off trouble long enough, just long enough to get his shit together. Maybe then he could bargain with the man.

After all, they had something the other wanted.

The needle flashed in pale moonlight. He stole a gaze up toward heaven’s door.

Fucking weird. He said to sleeping ghosts.

When no answer came from beyond, he shrugged, brushing crusted dew off the stone face of the cemetery stone. The name wasn’t important. But he figured the dead deserved to see the sky. This was an astronomer’s wet dream. Who knows when on earth this would happen again. Two moons. Two fucking moons. Parker couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe it was the high, maybe it was the cold seeping through his wet socks and tickling his toes.

The gray steel of the moon broke free from the clouds, red and silver light rained down on the empty graveyard. Above, trees flexed their skeletal limbs, reaching up to scratch the sky.

Bastard owes me another bottle. This one was light. Or maybe it wasn’t? It didn’t matter, a little high was better than none at all. He pulled up on the plunger and stuck the needle deep into the vial. Clear, red liquid drained up into the syringe. He tapped it twice and threw the bottle down the hill. He watched it twist across the air, glass sparkling in the midnight sky.

It fell to the ground with a satisfying splash. The pond drank it in. Robert cast another look down at the cracked stone beneath his arm, cheers. The words were simple as he plunged the needle deep into his flesh.

Minutes passed in an infinite crawl. The sky lurched and his arm throbbed with the sting of steel biting in.

Ecstasy in a bottle. He smiled a crooked smile and rolled the sleeve of his hoodie back down. It was black, darker than the sky above, darker still than the voices that called to him at night when he was all alone. Inside he felt alive. Warmth pulsed through him, worming its way from his arm to his head and down his leg. He closed his eyes, feeling the subtle shift of the world awakening. Through the blood-tinged night he could see shapes dancing on the surface of the water.

He thought the thin layer of ice cracked.

And then he heard the dead scream. Like the earth tearing in one single, torturous sound.

They called out all at once, a terrible wail of torture and fright. The world stopped swirling in tye-dye vortexes of happiness and warmth, everything grew suddenly cold. Gray haze flicked across his vision, twisting in the slow spiral of oil and water mixed.

The wail came once again, and Robert smiled despite the sound. Whatever it was, it sounded like freedom.

Mars looked beautiful in the evening sky, hovering just below the smiling face of the moon. It was like the bloody nose of God himself.

The haze shifted, fog rolled in. Coiling in gentle tendrils of a snakeskin vice grip. It pooled about his legs and he felt something pull. Robert panicked. His eyes went wide and he could almost kiss the sky. Above, the fog slithered between his slitted eyes, creeping like vines against frost flecked earth.

He shivered. Sweat froze on his brow and colors faded to gray. The bleeding light stopped, vanishing; it faded into a subtle brown, then an ochre red alighting the night sky in a brilliant inferno.

And then the world went dark and gray, cold and lonely. He stole a glance down, looking for comfort in the stone. The tombstone lay shattered, tossed on its side. A single skeletal finger reached up, grasping for the sky as it sifted through frosted grass. Boney fingers scratched at his feet as mist pulled away from the surface of the lake, creeping slowly up the hill.

Fucking weird. His voice sounded so far away.

The gray mist stretched out from his leg, dancing in the gentle eddies of air. A cool breeze blew from somewhere to the south. Wooden limbs scraped against dying bark. Shadows oozed out across the lake. In a blink and a flash, something hung from dead boughs.

And then the splash of his bottle striking already thin ice. He could taste snow on his lips, but knew it was too early.

With the splash came the light. And then the colors again, coalescing into one brilliant, beautiful slideshow of everything ugly in his sin.

The pain in his arm returned, pus oozed from the tiny hole and he saw the maggots crawling out of his flesh. They came out by the dozen, then in hundreds.

And they were all heading south, toward the lake.

Tree limbs came to life, green and red replacing brown and black. They sprouted in ones and twos, forming mouths, forming eyes.

The red light returned.

Devil’s Night. The weather grew warm. Robert couldn’t feel his limbs, he scratched dumbly at an itch he knew wasn’t there. His arms burned from the impact of nails run ragged against his skin.

The mist stretched out, the maggots crawled.

It all converged into one shadowy figure of a man hung to die.

And it pointed at him. Robert felt his stomach lurch, fought the urge to retch and shit his pants.

One skeletal finger reached out to touch him.

A dog howled in the distance and Robert’s blood ran cold. He looked down at his pocket-watch as the hands spun recklessly through an infinite loop of time standing still. And when Robert thought he couldn’t take it anymore, the shadows vanished in a flash.

Footsteps sounded in the distance, like rushing water racing into septic sewers. He couldn’t tell how many there were, but he didn’t want to take his chances. Paranoia took over, muscles stretched and popped. He took off down the hill, a slow trot aided by the wonders of gravity. His arms flailed as he struggled to keep his balance, a gravestone rose and almost tripped him up. He recovered, then fumbled and fell twisting into an awkward barrel roll as he tumbled down the hill. Brambles and thorns dug into his hoodie, he struggled to free himself and heard the pop of branches snapping and threads working loose. He stung from dozens of tiny bites. A thorn stuck into his side.

There was the gnashing, rabid cry of a wolverine out to hunt. Pale blue eyes met the violent red of a dog madder than hell.

Saliva dripped from fangs unnaturally large. The beast paused, hackles sticking up like porcupine spikes. Its hair was taut and its stance was low. Blood stained claws dug into the ground, ripping up rivulets of dirt.

Mars played peek-a-boo with midnight and faded into the aether above. The beast paused, placated by the vanishing moon. It sat down on haunches and stared at the sky, transfixed. Through the throbbing of his head and the pulsing of his heart, he thought he heard the creature howl.

Flashlights blinked into existence off to his right. He heard voices and the air filled with the sweet stench of burning herbs. Someone was laughing, a hollow wraithlike laugh. He vaguely remembered wishing for a joint.

This place wasn’t so bad. It was all in his head. He was just high. Stoned out of his mind and seeing things. It had to be. There was no way this thing was real. He laughed a shaky laugh and reached out to pet the shaggy dog in front of him. He felt his hand pass through air and nearly stumbled again. The needle-bite throbbed and he stood up, taking two unsteady steps toward the beast. His foot struck something solid, he stubbed his toe. Shadows stretched thin and red light peaked out from beyond the clouds.

Mists gathered around the lake. In his stupor, he thought he saw the surface roiling in a slow burn. Bubbles popped and and he heard that laughter again.

Sweet smoke sifted through the stench of grave dust. The voices were closer now. There were three of them, two boys and a girl. Shadows flicked on the outskirts of his peripheral and he squinted into the darkness.

Red light danced down from the sky. He thought the dog stirred, and inched away.

A mausoleum cut off his path from the west. Brass bars pitted from time shot through the earth and stabbed toward the sky. Marble glinted, reflecting the red and blue-grey of the moons above. Shadows stretched, creeping closer.

We shouldn’t be here. The girl was saying, fear dripping a slight tremor into her voice.

It’s Devil’s Night. Come on. Don’t be a baby. Red and white leather reflected in the moonlight. A varsity jacket.

Crap.

I’m not a baby! Exasperation strained her voice.

We’re not scared, Jimmy. It’s just. We shouldn’t be here. The three were just over the rise. Robert could barely make out the shadow of the shorter boy speaking.

Shut up, Sarah. Do you wanna do this or not? Varsity spoke, his voice full of gravel.

"Well. Wait. I mean. Do we have to be here?" The shorter boy was looking around, his head bobbing about like a sparrow searching for food.

The grass crunched behind him. Robert spun, finding himself face to face with a large, angry dog. Through the shadows in the trees and the beast on the leaves,

Robert took the chance to shit himself and run for his life.

James sighed. The rose in her cheeks put shame to the red moon above as Sam Wilson brushed a stray hair to the side of her face and let her freckles shine through. Green eyes sparkled mischievously in the twilight as the steel smile of the moon poked through splintered clouds.

She found herself curling up closer to James, the heat of his body pushed the chill of the night away. Moonlight danced on cracked ice beneath the starless sky. The blinding of the midnight sun sent stars to sulking in the velvet black above. It hadn’t been that long, but she couldn’t help but feel that familiar stirring inside her heart every time she caught him looking at her.

Stop smiling. He said, pushing her playfully to the side, you’re going to make the lake jealous.

Lakes don’t get jealous. She giggled. James Wilson heard only bells.

Behind them, the steel of the gate creaked in the gentle breeze. Maple leaves began their slow spiral down from ancient branches. Frost licked grass crunched underneath as he shifted his weight from side to side. He paused bashful, eyeing her intently as he slid closer, lightly, almost accidentally brushing her jean-clad leg with the tips of his fingers. He felt a tiny spark and pulled back reflexively.

She twisted her hair lazily, there was a moment of awkwardness that sublimed to an almost effervescent bliss bubbling to the surface. When she didn’t pull away, he grew bolder and pulled her close. He wrapped his arms around her and draped his coat across her lap. After a moment she leaned back, pushing into him. Red hair tickled his cheek and he grinned from ear to ear.

It’s so pretty. Sam sighed.

I know you are. James heard himself say, he caught his tongue too late and the words hung heavy on the air.

How did you? She ignored the compliment, focusing instead on the moonlight dancing across the lake.

Get so lucky to meet a girl like you?

Get a key to this place?

Oh. He blushed, stammering stupidly, I kind of work here. You know. It’s no big deal. Just don’t tell my boss.

If she didn’t believe him, he didn’t care. It sounded good. Their moment of silence was punctured by the gentle splash of waves lapping the shoreline. The answer seemed to satisfy her and he relaxed the tension in his shoulders. If the city knew he was out here…

Dark thoughts danced across the periphery of his mind. He owed Parker more than twenty bucks. If this place let him score, he’d owe him his life. James knew she wouldn’t dig too deep into it. He wasn’t the coolest kid in school and Sam was in demand. Any chance he got to spend more than a fleeting moment of awkward silence at the lockers together was a few seconds he’d treasure. If he could get a little and get out without the city knowing - he might still have a chance at this job.

From the moment he first found this place, he knew this was where he belonged. Noble oaks scraped against purple sky as the twin moons circled above. The faintest calls of night owls stalking wooded expanses were tangled up in her relaxed breathing. Jasmine floated across the air, rising from her hair to his lips. He wanted to drink it in.

Fifty thousand years. And then never again. He couldn’t help feeling almost superior to be sitting lakeside with the most beautiful girl in school as they watched the most awe-inspiring phenomenon in humanity’s brief history. He only wished the Orionids were streaking across the sky tonight, but he’d settle for this moment to last forever.

This Martian moon was like magic to him; over the past week and a half his life went from misery to his present company. The warnings and urban legends creeping across Lyton were only emboldening his every move. The thought of hanging out alone in the woods while creepers skulked the darkness excited him.

You think they’re real? Sarah roused him from his thoughts. The world flooded back in a slow crawl. He gave her a slight squeeze and said nothing.

Creepers. Really? Scientifically it was impossible. Mists were incapable of sentient thought. And any chance that something even remotely close was the stuff of nightmares. No more real than Bloody Mary, the Wendigo, or the Barghast. He bit his lip and fought back a snicker.

What’s so funny? Her elbows dug into his side. It hurt, but her touch was soft.

He exhaled sharply, feigning a pretend injury. Ow! This time he laughed, a real laugh that echoed in the still of the night. That hurt.

I’m serious. It’s not real, right? She broke his embrace and turned to look at him. Doe eyes welled with tears ready to burst. He caught the faintest tremor in her lower lip and fought the urge to kiss her.

The night grew long and the temperature dropped. Mists coiled about his legs and feet, creeping toward the lake and rising like heated vapor toward the heavens. In the creeping shadows, he swore he saw a face; breath froze in his lungs. He hoped she didn’t see it.

The gasp sent her mind reeling. What is it?

No - nothing. It’s getting late. And cold. We should go. James rose in slow, deliberate motions. He pushed up slowly and his knee popped from the sudden stress. She stared up at him as a dog barked off in the distance. One shiver made her mind up and she rose decisively to her feet. James bent to help her up, but she refused his touch.

You okay? He asked only to break the monotony of sliding gravel as they hiked up the hill. Tiny dust clouds settled behind them, moonlit fading to black brought the chill in the air to life.

Thank you for a lovely evening.

What the hell did that mean? Shadowed wings floated across the moon, breaking the silhouette of silvery clouds. She reached out and took his arm with her hands, cupping them around his narrow bicep. They walked in silence up the hill to a rusted gate. He reached into his pocket, digging for the key to an aging MasterLock.

The crunch of gravel behind them made him regret locking the gate. Mist turned to midnight fog and settled into the bowl of a narrow lip beneath the ridge. The lake was almost invisible in the haze.

James? The fog grew thick and he almost couldn’t hear her from the thundering in his temple. A pinch on his hand brought him back to reality. He shivered, wiping a bead of perspiration off his forehead.