The Things We Bury - Part 1: In Anticipation of the End of the World [Completed]

Chapter 1: Project LARS (Part 5 of 6)

"Absolutely.  Look at the time stamp." He pointed to the digital numbers in the upper right corner.  "April 8th.  The last full moon.  Two hours after this was filmed, it became human again."

R.J. became acutely aware they were both avoiding using the term werewolf.

"How is it possible?"

"No idea.  That is why we want to hire you, Mister Blass: to find out."

The point where it became clear that the video couldn't be a fake was when the animal began thrashing at the bars right in front of the camera.  The fine details were too incredible to be the product of special effects.  Each hair stood out on its black muzzle.  Spittle flew from its jaws.  Every tiny bump of the tongue's papillae could be seen.  Light reflected off of the large, razor-sharp teeth, and they scratched lines of shining steel in the paint, where they came into contact with the bars.

The video came to an abrupt end after the creature furiously launched itself towards the camera.  It froze on a close-up of the snarling beast.  Every capillary could be made out in the pale blue eye that glared murderously into the lens.  A shadowy reflection of a man with a handheld camera could be seen in the glistening moisture covering the iris.

R.J. didn't hit replay again.  He sat back feeling tightness spread across his chest.  An ancient sorrow threatened to squeeze the strength out of him like a boa constrictor.

"I'm not the right man for the job," he said.  Each word needed to be forced out.  That eye – that magnificent blue eye.

"And why would you say that, Mister Blass.  Could it possibly be because of the Gilchrist Hoax?"  Maxwell pronounced it wrong, accentuating it like two separate words, with the second one being the son of God.  R.J.'s nostrils narrowed at the error.  "If so, my employers are fully aware of it."

R.J. turned away.  Through the narrow cracks in the Venetian blind over the kitchen sink, the dull lead sky appeared.  Lost from any reference it could have been mistaken for a shroud of mist.  Like the ones that would hide the tall pines in the early morning hours, while Mila and him would plan out the day's search area, during that fateful summer.  

"Then you know that any scientific paper with my name on it would be instantly discredited."

"Of course.  But there won't be any scientific papers going to the Journal of Cryptozoology or any other publications.  This is a classified project.  The work you do will be for your government and only your government."  R.J.'s frown tightened.  He looked back at the agent who had turned slightly in his chair to face him.  "If you are looking for fame or vindication this won't give it to you.  But if you want to study the most significant biological find since Darwin discovered the Galapagos, then we would really like to have you leading the research group."

Maxwell finished with an earnest, closed mouth smile.  The expression said, c'mon be a pal, like he was asking R.J. to help him move. 

"Darwin didn't discover the Galapagos Islands, he studied them."  He regretted correcting Agent Wiley's ignorance but found he was unable to stop himself.

"Really?  Who did discover them?"  Maxwell leaned forward still smiling, waiting to be informed.

R.J. opened his mouth and hesitated.  He couldn't remember ever reading anything that mentioned it.  He became aware of the lengthening silence, as he searched for an answer that wasn't there.  "I don't know.  But that's not the point."

"You brought it up."

"The point is..."  Maxwell could feel his anxiety getting the better of him.  A haze of anger, confusion, and regret added a harsh not to voice.  "Withholding this from the scientific community is unconscionable.  As a scientist, I have a responsibility to contribute to the wealth of human understanding."