A werewolf story where the werewolf is the hero! The villain, the Infernal Beast, is similar to a fire elemental and has already killed more than 60 people before the story even starts.

It was twenty minutes later when Bear Ross, close to collapsing from fatigue and lack of sleep, heard from Mel Forbes that they had located what they believed to be the body of Stan Ashmore.

“You’re not sure?” asked Bear, surprised, knowing Mel was usually faultless in his investigations.

“No … the body is too severely burnt.”

“Burnt?   Then his body was found out of town?”

“No, in one of the houses in town,” replied Mel.   He started down Cockerall Road, toward the house where Andrew Braidwood and Jerry Green were waiting.

“But the fire hasn’t entered the town yet,” pointed out Bear.   When Mel failed to reply, he said, “Then what killed him?”

“You tell me?” said the older man.   He pointed to a series of giant footprints burnt deep into the bitumen, from one end of the road to the other.

“Holy Mother of God!” said Bear, instinctively crossing himself as he knelt to examine the nearest footprint.   The prints were nearly fifteen centimetres deep, with five toes clearly outlined on each track.   It was impossible to imagine how they could have been made by anything other than a pair of burning human feet.

“That’s nothing,” said Mel.   He led Bear across to the weatherboard house where they had found what they believed to be the remains of Stan Ashmore.   “Wait until you see this.”

“See what…?” asked Bear.   A second later he saw the man-shaped hole where the clear outline of the infernal beast had been burnt right through the weatherboards into the house.

“After you,” said Mel, waving a hand toward the outline.   Then, seeing Bear’s puzzled look, “That’s how we entered in the first place.   He barricaded all the doors and windows before it got him.”

“Before what got him?” asked Bear as he stepped through the man-shaped outline and into the room (instinctively ducking as he stepped through the outline, although it was not necessary; despite being more than 200 centimetres tall, the outline easily dwarfed him).   He found Jerry Green and Andrew Braidwood kneeling over a large pile of blackened ashes, which vaguely resembled the remains of a man.

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