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Bushman
Social climber
The island of Tristan da Cunha
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Topic Author's Original Post - Oct 31, 2014 - 07:34am PT
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'It was out in the country'
(Fiction)
Yes, it was out in the country about 25 miles from my property, which is really pretty far out in the boonies from where I live. I went there to look at a job, a tree trimming job, he said it was to trim a major tree. Mr. Calvin Cooper was his name and I when I pulled up into the neighborhood on the backside of a Vineyard there was lots of trash in the road. The address was on Woods Road off of Colony and the street number wasn't well marked. There was a long dirt road that ran way back to the property and I wasn't sure I was in the right place but I drove up to where the gate was locked anyway.
There was a large black alpaca looking over the gate towards me and he was moaning softly as I got out and the alpaca moved away as I approached. The gate was chained but not locked so I took the chain off, opened the gate, and chained it behind me so the animal would not get out. It was about a hundred up yards to the house and as I approached I was looking for the customer to show up, but the place looked deserted. I remember feeling slightly irritated that he wasnt coming out to greet me. The skies were mostly cloudy and a few rain drops were spitting as I walked a bit warily towards the house.
That's when I started to feel a little bit creepy about the situation and my radar was telling me to be cautious. If I had the wrong house I was likely to be accosted or shot as an intruder so I called the customer on my phone again, I had left a message with him less than an hour before just to let him know I was on the way. There was no answer as I stood there about a hundred feet from the place.
I have been going out to new customers houses to do estimates for over thirty years but when I'm out in the boonies in the middle of nowhere without any self-defense besides my own two hands and any nearby implements of destruction it still makes me feel a little uneasy. As I walked around the side of the house I could see the giant overgrown tree with blackberry vines growing way up into it.
The tree overhung the house and rubbed up against the wall, and pushed at the roof and gutters in several places where it was beginning to do some damage. It was a mess and I was turning over the options for dealing with it my mind as I walked back around towards the front door. The front door was at the back of a tall porch above a wide row of steps. There was peeling paint on the trim and the doors, and green algae growing on the brown stucco walls. By the condition of the place it didn't look likely I was going to sell this bid I but was following through as usual out of courtesy. My mind was made up about climbing those stairs as I looked up at the doorway while walking along and that's when I made a serious misstep.
As I was looking up I felt like was stepping into a ditch, but as I quickly looked down my foot had stopped at a wooden plank, then my arms shot out to my side as the plank suddenly gave way and down I was going as I caught myself with my two arms and one leg. My other leg was swinging and groping in the hole below as I pushed back up with my arms and carefully extricated myself the hole. I stood up and could see that what I had stepped on was a sort of trap door and not a plank, and I looked around quickly to see if I was being watched before I peered back down into the hole. It was then I noticed the smell, a stench so overwhelming and putrid that I took a few steps back and , started to gag as I turned to the side and almost barfed. I put a handkerchief over my mouth but even through the handkerchief the smell was almost unbearable.
It was like smell of a rotting dead animal but not exactly the same, and at that moment I was pretty sure I knew exactly what that smell was. It was almost too much, and my instincts screamed at me to quickly beat a retreat, but curiosity got the best of me so I went back over to look down into that hole.
Aa a light rain began falling, I stared down into that pit squinting, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. I shuddered and my heart skipped a beat as the full scope of my predicament was becoming clear to me. The pit was at least fifteen feet deep and opened out into a cellar area. There below me was a pile if moldy corpses, partially decomposed, some with the broken bones still protruding from the rotting flesh. This did not bode well, for in spite of my narrow escape the prospects of my current situation were still very much in jeopardy, for at that very moment I heard the sound of a window opening.
I was already turned and running when I heard the sound of a round being jacked into the chamber and I began to run at a full sprint towards my car. I knew the next thing coming was going to be buckshot so I weaved as I ran. About thirty feet from the gate and 'boom' a shot rang out and I felt something sting the back of my right heel as the sky opened up and heavy rain began to fall. Ten feet from the gate as I readied myself to try and leap over it I stumbled and heard another loud 'boom' and as I dropped to my knees I heard the sound of the buckshot peppering the front of my car. Stumbling to my feet I lunged against the gate with both hands as the chain gave way and I jumped into the drivers seat of my SUV, and started the engine. I was throwing it into reverse when the windshield exploded in front of me and granules of glass showered my lap.
As I punched the throttle the vehicle lurched backwards and I calculated that the was shooter was probably going to need to reload. He was out in the yard now and as he was running towards the gate two more men came out of the house with rifles. Swerving badly as I used the mirrors to navigate my backwards driving I turned my head around to steer the vehicle more accurately and pushed the gas petal to the floor. At the end of the dirt road I recklessly turned the vehicle around at the pavement and aimed for the highway as I heard rifle reports and at least one round strike the car before I got out of range.
At the Methodist Hospital the night they treated the shotgun wound to the back of my right ankle which was missing some skin but would probably heal in a few weeks. While I was being treated two uniformed officers arrived and asked me if I was willing to answer some questions. The next day the local and national news reported on three brothers who had been killed in a police shoot out in Wilton, California the night before and that it turned out that they were the same serial killers who were being sought in connection for at least nine unsolved missing persons cases in the past five years. I didn't go to answer the front door all the next day after seeing several news vans lined up along my road. They were ringing and calling and knocking until dark, but unlike the night before, I finally did manage to get some sleep.
Happy Halloween!
-Bushman
10/18/2014
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steve s
Trad climber
eldo
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Oct 31, 2014 - 07:54am PT
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Awesome story Tim.. As Captain "goddamn it" use to say.....Lets be careful out there! Happy Halloween! Peace ,Steve sangdahl
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SC seagoat
Trad climber
Santa Cruz, or In What Time Zone Am I?
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Oct 31, 2014 - 07:59am PT
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Phew....edge of my chair, checking my doors!
Susan
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Bushman
Social climber
The island of Tristan da Cunha
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Topic Author's Reply - Nov 1, 2014 - 05:16pm PT
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'It Must Have Been the Tapioca'
Jack Turner was driving to work from the suburbs to his job in the city that day when he felt a strange tingling. There was a tingling and prickling sensation on the inside of his right forearm just above the wrist. As he reached over and began to scratch, he pulled up his sleeve and noticed two strange looking sores that looked like two little pimples, side-by-side, like a snakebite. But compared to the morning’s traffic, it seemed a minor distraction, and he thought no more about it at the moment. On arriving at work, it was a normal day at the office, except that he began having strange shaking sensations along with mild mental tremors, as if he were flashing from one memory to the next in rapid succession.
As he got home that evening Jack's kissed his wife, Naomi, who had dinner ready for him on the table...pork chops, his favorite, with peas and carrots, which were rather tasteless, and soggy scalloped potatoes which were not bad. That night as he brushed his teeth and looked at himself in the mirror, he saw his gray sixty three year old eyes looking back at him and thought he saw lurking behind them the shadow of something sinister. But he didn’t give it much more thought and he watched the ten o'clock news with Naomi, and went to sleep
It was three am when he woke to the sound of dogs barking through the slightly open window as the strange quivering and shuddering feeling came over him again. He closed his eyes tightly and felt a sharp piercing pain in his fore head, in his ears, his nose, and in his mouth as he saw a bright orange flash, a white light, and then darkness. Simultaneously, his wife’s body was trembling and convulsing as large ropey tendrils shot out of her chest and abdomen, piercing into her husband’s unconscious body.
The alien invasion was complete, and the last victim would feel little pain as the assimilation proceeded. Jack woke up with a start and looked over his wife’s body, which appeared unmolested, lying in the bed next to him. The horrible nightmare had apparently been the result of that extra helping of tapioca Jack had eaten with dinner. He then noticed that Naomi was wide-awake and looking at him as she said, “Sounds like you're having trouble sleeping dear, maybe some late-night television will help you get back to sleep?” As he turned on the TV there were no reactions from the audience but applause, as a large brown creature with multiple antennae’s and tentacles slithered across the stage to take a seat with the Tonight Show's host, whose long ropy red tentacles quivered and hung over the desk.
The End.
-bushman
03/11/2014
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