Dear Reader,
Below you will find the fourth installment of my ongoing story “The Devil in the Vine”I truly hope you enjoy it. The story is about to get really wild, I hope you’re as down as you seam to bee…..
Sorry, old joke around here. If you’d like to get caught up hit the link at the bottom of the page and start at the beginning. You definitely don’t want to miss the end…
Love ya,
-Will
👻❤️👻
Merle and his Mama
10
The Now
The sun was high in the sky as the boys made their way to the clearing. Bears don’t keep well in warm weather. All that thick fur and fat necessary to survive the winter, will quickly turn a valuable resource to a rotting pile of stink. They had to move fast if there was any hope at all of salvaging the carcass. It was on the north side of the mountain and the weather had been cool for November, the chances were about 50/50 they were walking into a mess.
Doc walked out in front of the pair of young men. They looked lean and tough for their ages. Loki and 3 had grown up hard, and it showed. Not the same kind of hard that El and I had experienced, they didn’t see that world first hand. If I have failed at everything else, I can rest easy in that success. They are not however, like the soft white biscuits I encounter in college towns these days.
From an early age, El and I expected a lot out of them. We knew what kind of world and life they were being brought into, so we made it our mission to give them the tools necessary to know what tools they would need to live here.
We taught them how to think.
Then we taught them how to kill.
They are great at both.
As young kids, while their friends were in “time out” the two of them were doing pushups or leg lifts for punishment.
Jiu-jitsu and Muay Thai were an essential part of schooling. There were years that the martial arts were their only formal schooling.
We also taught them how to survive in wilderness situations. Often times the wild places are our only refuge from the corruption of the human world. They are an oasis of peace and serenity in a sea of chaos and turmoil, IF, you are familiar with the ways of the wild that is.
If you’re unfamiliar, you wont last long out here. I’ve seen many people succumb to the call of the wild, only to crawl back to the city lights, broken and beaten in ways unimaginable to those who they pass.
Loki and 3 had the training necessary. El and I had made sure of it. They learned to shoot arrows and catch fish as soon as their little bodies became capable. They knew the knots, the releases, and both could hit a rabbit at 20 yards with a bow by the time they were 6.
It wasn’t long after they learned to shoot a rifle that they began running trap lines together every winter. By the time Loki was 10, the boys were checking traps on their own every morning before their schooling began. The property surrounding our cabin was as healthy of an ecosystem as you could hope for in this day and age. The mature hardwood forest provided, and the woods were teaming with critters for the boys to trap, dispatch, and skin. El and I would step in to ensure the hides were properly cared for as not to waste. We also had a rule. If you kill it, you use it. Notice I didn’t say eat it. We used to. Until the kids starting trapping. Those boys skinned and tanned some strange looking critters in those days, some of which, even I wasn’t gonna eat.
They ran that trap line religiously, I mean every morning, winter after winter for four years, until 3 was 13. By that time Loki was 14, the rattlesnake streak in him was starting to show. The steady, unrelenting stream of death that a trap line is essentially, had drastically different effects of the boys.
Loki learned fast. The natural predator in him quickly devised the most devious tricks and traps to lure in whatever he decided his prey was.
Things went a little too far for the more sensitive side of 3 and he bowed out. Loki tried to run it by himself for a year, but I don’t think he made it past January. Without his little brother it just wasn’t the same. He found new avenues for that energy and the traps lay in a crate. Cleaned, waxed, and ready to go if anyone ever takes an interest.
The boys had learned a lot in those days, and it was this education that they were going to have to lean on to accomplish the monumental task ahead.
As they crested the hill and entered the clearing, 3 noticed the blood trail. They were entering the clearing at the same exact spot the chase had the day before. The boys both saw it at the same time, “fuck” they mumbled in unison.
Nothing in all the trapping, or exploring the boys had done, even came close to preparing them for this.
They walked forward until the body of the giant sow lay at their feet. Doc was investigating the area, nose to the ground and popping his jaws. Stopping here and there to howl his challenge to the world. No doubt smelling the coyotes that had been on the scene last night.
Coyotes start eating their meal ass first. Especially when it’s an animal as large as this. From there, they gorge on guts and organs, making a bloody mess as they roll around and bicker amongst one another. Only then, once it looks like a horror scene, will they begin to eat the cuts of meat that humans value.
It was obvious from the sign on the ground that coyotes had been around. Quite a few of them at that. But, the carcass at their feet showed no sign of tampering. The hind quarters were still in tact, as was the chest cavity and belly. There was no bloody slip and slide on the ground, yet.
It looked like they were in luck.
They both breathed a sigh of relief.
“Man, we got this. No sense in bothering those two. Let the old man rest, what say you, 3?” Loki was beginning to put a plan together in his head when Doc split the world with a dreadful bellow. A howl packed full of rage, and something else, something the boys didn’t recognize.
“The fuck??” Loki was spinning towards the sound of his dog when he saw the bear. Very definitely the same one that took Will out. It was standing on its hind legs and doing his best to look ferocious. With his back to the rock formation he growled and showed his teeth.
He was done in though, he had no real fight in him anymore. He had been able to keep the coyotes away all night, but there was no way he was fighting Doc and these two dangerously fresh looking humans.
The young bruin dropped to all four paws and sheepishly backed away from Doc’s menacing snarls and chops. Loki grabbed Doc by the collar and hooked him up to the leash. After securing the clasp to the collar, he looped the other end around a young white oak. Then, secured it back to itself with a climbing carabiner from his belt loop.
With Doc secured and howling like the devil at the end of his rope, the young bear retreated to the edge of the clearing and lay down in the shadow of the forest. Neither of the boys liked the prospect of gutting and skinning this youngsters mama right in front of him, but what choice did they have? They hoped he would eventually wander off.
They were at least certain he wouldn’t attempt to maul them while their backs were turned, not with Doc keeping watch.
“All right, 3, I need you to go up to the house and get some gear. I’ll stay here and get started.” Loki being the older brother immediately took the lead. “Get me a cordless reciprocating saw, a good battery, a roll of contractor bags, two backpack frames with straps to secure the meat, and make me a sandwich while you’re at it.” He grinned at his little brother, “I’ll get started here. By the time you get back I should have her all prepped and ready to carry. After I eat my sandwich of course.”
“Whatever dude. You’ve never skinned anything this big before. Are you sure you don’t want to go get Will? Even if it’s just to like, advise the situation?” 3 had a bad feeling about this. He could see flys buzzing around the bloody maw of an injury to the old mama bears throat, he could see the glisten of fat, slowly melting and oozing from claw marks on her rump. He could see clearly, how completely sideways this was going to go and thought about protesting further.
Then, he considered how completely hilarious it was going to be and kept his mouth shut.
“Yeah man, I got this. Don’t forget my sandwich. Just leave Doc there in case that youngin’ comes back around.” Loki pulled his Case pocket knife from his jeans pocket and began looking for a starting place on the giant, furry, black, corpse at his feet.
3 was still laughing to himself as he began his trip back to the house for supplies. “Fuck him and his sandwich” he mumbled through a grin.
Bathed in Blood
11
The Now
The first cut is always the hardest. At least that was what Loki kept telling himself as he looked for a way into the monster’s chest cavity. He needed to get her opened up and cooling fast if there was any hope to salvage any meat or grease. His pocket knife was plenty sharp, but she was just too big. There was simply no way for him to roll her onto her back and keep her there, while he worked. But, with her on her side the way she was, he couldn’t access the thin skin on her belly without taking unnecessary risks of puncturing her stomach and spoiling everything, including his dinner.
Then he had an idea. The hide was almost certainly trash, it had been torn up severely in the battle that cost her life. If he started at the gash in her side, he could slide his knife along the ribs and open her up slightly off center in an effort to avoid any ruptures. Afterwards, he could skin the top side, and remove the front and hind quarters, along with the backstrap, from that side. They had brought enough rope along to hang the quarters from low limbs, this kept the meat clean and safe until 3 got back with the packs. Then, he would flip her over somehow, and simply repeat the process.
He could see what needed to be done. It seemed easy. His knife was sharp, and once it was started, it slid along with ease, parting the thick black fur like sod, exposing the soft white belly fat below. It was precision work to only cut through the hide and leave the chest cavity intact and unopened. He worked past the belly, pulling the hide towards himself with two fingers of his off hand in an effort to avoid puncturing the stomach. At the sternum, he readjusted his direction and finished his cut all the way up to the bears throat.
After this initial, full length cut was done, he began to skin the side of the bear that was facing up. He pulled and cut. Careful not to open up the belly and cover himself in horrors. The hide separated easily from the carcass and it wasn’t long before Loki had the whole topside of the bear skinned. It was beginning to look like he knew what he was doing.
He worked quickly to remove the ham, backstrap, and front shoulder from the sow and hung the meat up in the limbs of a sourwood tree near Doc.
With this done, he stepped back to consider the next step. He had to get the remainder of the carcass flipped over, and the hide spread out on the ground on the other side. Kinda like flipping an omelette into itself.
The sow had weighed close to 500 pounds in life. Loki had removed maybe 150 pounds of meat and bone so far, that still left 350 pounds of dead weight to move on his own. He started with her hind leg and tried to roll her over. He was able to move the entire rear half of her, but she was so front heavy that no matter how hard he pulled, her chest just wouldn’t flip over.
He dropped her paw back to the ground and walked to her remaining front leg. He bent, grabbed her by the leg with his right hand, and under her chest with his left. Putting all his might behind the lift, he lurched upward and tried to push her over. The dead weight of the carcass came up to an upright position, and he drove in with his legs to get her over the hump. His feet dug into the muddy ground, and began to slide backwards. Unable to gain traction in the blood soaked ground, his feet kicked out from under him and he went forward, hard. All the momentum he had gained was lost, and as he went forward, the remains of the bear came backward just as fast and slammed back to earth.
He felt the warmth before he even knew what had happened. Then the smell hit him. In an effort to break his fall, he had stuck out his left hand. It tore into the thin layer of belly skin that he had left holding back all the bears substantial guts. The impact caused this tear to split wide open, spilling entrails all over him. He was lying face first in the worst smelling pile of death imaginable. Poor Loki was retching and scrambling to get back to his feet when 3, El, and I made our way to the edge of the clearing.
Gall Bladder Madness
11.5
The Now
“Stop, stop, stop!” I half whispered, half barked at El and 3.
We had just crested the rise where we could see Loki, and what I saw was, well, I guess astounding is the word. Amazing, if nothing else. Loki was just getting back to his feet after what looked like an epic fail. I reached out and grabbed my two companions and pulled them down to a crouching position behind a large boulder that had long ago fallen from the rock formation overlooking the clearing.
“Let’s just hold up here a minute, see how the boy handles himself now.” I was honestly curious. It’s not often you get this kind of glimpse into what a man is truly made of .
Loki was a mess. Completely covered from head to toe in gore. Loops of blue/grey intestine draped over his left shoulder, and what could only be undigested plant matter and carrion on his head, and dripping down his face.
By all appearances, he had been on the right track before the disastrous fall. He had meat hanging in the trees nearby, and the carcass looked about like I would have expected, almost.
The meat was definetly still good, although it wouldnt be much longer. The fat however, was starting to soften and glisten in the afternoon sun.
We watched as he wiped the disgusting mess off of his head and face using the back of his forearms. The loops of intestine dropped to the ground with an audible plop that could be heard clearly from our little hiding spot.
He took off his shirt and flipped it inside-out and continued to clean himself up. He was clearly shaken by the experience, yet not broken. He showed no signs of packing up his shit and walking home beaten. He appeared like he was going to try again.
“This dumb fuck is gonna do the same thing again? Are you fucking kidding me?!?” I mumbled under my breath to no one in particular.
I was impressed at his tenacity and considered letting him give it another go. You know, just to see. But the more sensible side of me spoke up and I relented.
“Yo!” I hollered down. “What in the fuck happened here?”
Loki turned around and saw the three of us huddled together, all of us trying our damndest to hold back hysterical laughter. We didn’t last long, a second or two at the most before all three of us were belly laughing, and pointing at the gore covered Loki.
Poor kid looked like he’d been through war, and we were yucking it up and having a good ‘ol time at his expense.
Now Loki can be mean. Mean as a rattlesnake if pushed or provoked. I saw that temper start to rise up in him while we laughed. He started to formulate a sentence that seemed to start, and end with the word fuck. He stuttered out a few meager defenses about one thing or another, and then must’ve seen the absurdity of the scene for himself and joined in with the laughter.
It really was quite comical after all.
“Dude, if you wanted to know where her gall bladder was, you could’ve just come and gotten me. You didn’t have to go swimming in there all alone. Here, let us help you finish up, it looks like all we are getting here is meat.” I said once the laughter had subsided “And, where the hell is that giant bear cub? I’m not in the mood to get surprised again.”
“Shit man, I don’t know. He was over there. I think something is wrong with him. He don’t act right. And why the hell is a cub as big as him, and a bruin at that, still following his mama around?”
Loki was right, he was a monster. Way too mature to still be hanging around his mother’s territory. It wasn’t natural. He should’ve been chased off long ago.
There was also the issue of who or what had killed his mother? Almost undoubtedly an even bigger bear, likely a bruin. Bears are brutal creatures, and engage in infanticide regularly. They do this to force the sow to re-enter estrous and become receptive again once her young is killed. Yeah, nature is fucked up.
We have some monstrous bears in these hills, and I hoped to not come across her killer unprepared. I definitely didn’t want it to happen after dark, with the scent of blood and guts heavy in the air around the clearing. We needed to move fast, I had no doubt wherever he was, he was waiting for us dangerous humans to clear out so he can reclaim his prize. We needed to salvage whatever meat we could and get back to the house as soon as possible.
3 and I got to work helping Loki. With all three of us working together, we had the bear quartered quickly. El was working on packing it all up on the frames we had brought down with us, and getting everything strapped down and ready to carry back home.
Unfortunately, the fat was not salvageable. Puddles of translucent grease lay on the tattered hide that was lying fur side down on the ground, the remains of the carcass sitting in the middle. Fat black flies buzzed drunkenly to and fro. Hopping from grease puddle to blood puddle. Living the good life.
With what little meat we were able to salvage loaded up, we headed out of the clearing and towards the house and camper. We were led by Loki, who looked like Carrie coming home from Prom. Doc had gone on ahead and was barking treed from what sounded like the camper.
“Hey, y’all seen Luci in a while?” I asked the group.
“Not since I left Loki out there and headed back to get you guys” 3 said.
“Hmmmm, that’s worrisome. Damn, that dog is loud. You think he just wants in that bad? Or is something else about to…ah fuck, would you look at that shit!”
“Hahaha! yeah, looky there. Kinda answers a few questions, huh?!” Loki laughed.
As the camper came into view we could see Luci sitting on top of his new pal, the great big giant bear cub. He was riding him up and down the half acre field that ran along the side of the barn like he was freshly broken horse. Grinning ear to ear and waving his pitchfork over his head in huge arcs.
“Woooo-Hooooo I got me a fucking bear!! What’d you find? Holy shit Loki!! What the fuck happened to you?!?!”
“Fuck, this day just keeps getting weirder.” I mumbled. “Let’s get this meat in a cooler and get inside. I’ll deal with this asshole and his new ride later.”
With that said, we made our way past the camper, past the devil riding a bear, and into the barn to store the meat. Then on to the camp to clean up.
I needed rest. So rest I did.
Kiel and the Kids
12
The Now
“Revolution starts with you!!” The man said to the group of young coeds who had crowded around his table.
“I’m telling you! I was born for revolution!!” He repeated with the enthusiasm of the newly converted. The small crowd murmured their agreement.
They were gathered around a picnic table next to a taco truck on King St. in the small mountain town of Boone, NC.
Boone. The town that had once been home to an eclectic blend of mountain folk, ultra-conservative Christians and old-school dirty hippies, had recently began a rapid decline. A decline caused by a severe creep infection.
An infection that had metastasized alongside the growth of the Higher Learning Center in the heart of town. As the school grew, it oozed more and more poison into the world around it.
All it took was a couple good football seasons and the money poured in!
Money in=Poison out.
In only a few short years, the campus was boiling with angry, green haired monsters. These creatures are out for blood, or tears, or something. I honestly haven’t figured them out yet. Many in Boone are still in the DragYote phase, simply trying it on for a time. Like your one “lesbian experience” from college. Maybe it was fun for a time, but time moves on, and kids grow up. Many of these DragYote’s will one day shake off the creep and move on to live beautiful lives.
Others will be unable to fight off the infection and will slide headfirst into the next phase of disease. The CoyDragon phase. Remember, if you see one of these, do not engage. There is no victory there. Remain unseen or run like Hell.
True story of the youngest full blown CoyDragon I have encountered. She began as a girl. Who transitioned to be a boy. Who dresses as a girl on the weekends as a Drag Queen to make money, and she dates “boys”. Got that? Read it again.
Seriously. She went a really long way to be a straight white girl, who happens to be dancing her way through college.
Whatever.
Boone is fucked.
Back to the story.
The man at the table was Kiel. The spook fuck.
He’s not that kind of spook though. He didn’t go to any fancy college. His family isn’t connected to any political party or person. No one will ever confuse him for James Bond or Jason Bourne.
He is the other kind. The kind the agency pulls from various walks of life. The loners and sociopaths of the world. The guys like Charlie Manson or David Koresh. They are the cult leaders and chemists. The hackers and the whackers.
There is one place where the Agency goes time and time again in an attempt to find these freaks. It is a treasure trove of crazy, that they have long since turned into a farm of sorts.
It is called Prison.
The prison system serves as a labor pool for multiple government agencies, obviously.
None more than The Agency itself. Those fucks treat prisons all over the country like a Home Depot parking lot. If the labor you’re looking for just happens to need to be expendable most of all, it’s perfect. Who cares about prisoners, right? And as a bonus, it’s the perfect environment to analyze people in a wide variety of situations. You really get to know a man after a few months inside those walls.
They had picked out Kiel immediately. Not because he was extraordinarily big and scary. Nor because he had come in with a bang either.
A lot of guys come in looking for a fight right away, they are of the “best defense is a good offense” tribe. Not Kiel though.
He came in watching.
And he caught the attention of the watchers.
He was in for armed robbery and assault. A crime he absolutely committed. No doubt about it, the tape didn’t lie. Poor Kiel had no recollection of the event at all though. He had been high on a blend of drugs that the toxicology report could only get partially right. During his trial he had told the judge the drug that put him over the edge, in his opinion anyway, was something called Bath Salts that he had gotten at a gas station. He had not had a pattern of destructive drug use before then, it truly had been a one off. An accident of sorts.
He had just turned 19 and his mother was dying of cancer. He had held it together the best he could for as long as he could. The day she took her last breath, something in him broke. The young man who had spent his high school years inside, on a computer, and hidden away from the world had no means to cope with such a loss. Within a month of her death he was homeless and venting baby aspirin to fund his dope habit. Within 6, he was out of his mind and beating the shit out of 2 uniformed police officers at a Dunkin’ Donuts in Lakeland, FL.
I know, Florida, right?
Those 2 officers quickly became 8 and they did their best to turn Kiel into a pool of human colored meat sauce, it was 6 months later before he was able to leave the hospital and stand trial for the crime he didn’t even remember.
No matter. Prison is where he found himself and where they found him.
He was perfect. Exactly what they were looking for. He was young, good looking, intelligent, and scared to death. Like I said, he was exactly what they had been looking for.
Drugs and Demons
12.5
Then
The man watched as Kiel entered the day room.
He was obviously scared. Which meant he was also intelligent. And not completely insane.
Only retards and the insane walk into this prison without a healthy dose of fear. That goes for the people on both sides of the “bars”.
There were no actual bars in this prison. Just the plain white painted concrete walls, white tiled floors marked with black tiles in the shape of arrows to indicate direction of travel, and the heavy grey steel doors of each cell. Each door had a 6”x6”, wire reinforced, bulletproof glass window. Each window had a sliding steel shutter on the outside that when latched in place, effectively turned each cell into its own solitary confinement chamber. Overhead, the ceilings were made of more cold, grey concrete, with fluorescent lights bolted down tight and surrounded by protective wire cages.
The day room was more of the same, with rows of grey and chrome school chairs bolted to the floor facing the wall at the front of the room. The room served as a classroom during the week, and as a day room on the weekends. Saturday nights were movie night, and this week the movie was Blow with Johnny Depp. Perfect movie to keep a bunch of criminals entertained.
The man took notice immediately of the similarity between Mr. Depp and Kiel’s appearance. Both the man on the screen, and the man walking into the room, had long brown hair with natural blonde highlights. Both men had their hair pulled back in a ponytail on their heads and looked out of place in their prison blues. Which in this prison was more of a grey color. Like the blue of a blue Pit Bull or Weimaraner.
And just like the character that Johnny was playing, Kiel here was headed for much bigger things than he had anticipated when the doors slammed shut behind him.
Much bigger.
The man had plans for Kiel. The man had been in The Agency for more than 50 years, he was a lifer. The man had been working on only one project for the entirety of his career, and it was time to retire.
He couldn’t have asked for a better send off! All of his efforts spanning those five decades were getting ready to pay off tremendously.
He and his team had started out on the west coast what felt like 10 lifetimes ago. They had set up in a free clinic in San Francisco at the same time that the Haight Ashbury neighborhood was filling in with hippies and degenerates from all over the country.
They were specialists in the occult, and their mission was to attempt to create life. Demonic life. They believed they could use a mixture of fear, drugs, witchcraft, and sex to infect a human with a man made, synthetic demon. A demon that they could control, creating the perfect soldier. Or Manchurian Candidate.
It almost worked with Charlie. Almost.
The infection took hold in Mr. Manson almost immediately, but it wasn’t stable. It kept mutating, unable to settle down. It finally split itself into pieces and infected Tex and the Girls. These pieces of the demonic entity that the man had created drove them mad, making them inflict horrors upon the world, but they were uncontrollable. Useful but not good enough.
The man was not discouraged. He kept at it. Since the Summer of Love he had been hard at work.
And now it was time to try again. Kiel was perfect.
He reached out and flicked the switch on the wall next to him, throwing the day room full of prisoners into total darkness. Killing the florescent lights and the TV both.
“Go get him for me” the man said to the prison guard watching the monitor. “Now.”
Olive Oil for Footsie
13
The Now
Kiel was just getting fired up talking to this group of kids when his phone rang. Not the phone that he had used to bring this rag tag group of college kids together though.
His other phone. His work phone as it was.
He always felt a thrill run up his leg when that phone rang. It meant work, which meant excitement!
Or, it was Risa. She was the only other to have that number. It was against protocol to give it out, the man knew about this transgression but he let it slide.
“Olive, can you take over for me sweetie? I need to take this…” he said as he stepped down off the bench and pulled the satellite phone from his back pocket.
“Of course Kiel” the young girl next to him said and stepped up onto the table in order to be seen by the crowd. She was tall and thin with black curly hair that fell to her shoulders. Her skin had an olive tone to it but it looked drained of life, dull. She had a far away look in her eyes, and she lost her train of thought easily, but she was what he had to work with at the moment. She belonged to Risa and Footsie and she was on loan to him for the day. He found it far easier to attract hopeless college kids to him if he had one on a leash already.
Kiel stepped away to take the call.
“Hello” he said into the mouthpiece, trying his best to manage the excitement in his voice.
“Kiel! Buddy where are you?”
It was Footsie. Kiel’s blood boiled with anger and the excitement he had felt in his groin died.
“Footsie! I fucking told you to never call this number!! What part of that shit don’t you understand?!?! Never!”
He was furious! He hated the old creepy fuck. Yet, Footsie was Risa’s monster and she was not to be argued with. Not by Kiel anyway. Besides, Footsie was always very gracious about loaning out his toys to Kiel in an effort to keep the peace.
Olive especially. She belonged to Footsie the way a dog belongs to a child. The child has all the fun, but Mama sets the rules. In the case of Olive and Footsie it was Risa that played the roll of Mama.
And Mama didn’t fuck around. Footsie was allowed to have any kind of fun he wanted with sweet Olive, all but that one little thing. No, no, not that. She didn’t care how many different ways the old creep fucked her. It was that little nugget at the end of a good feed that was off limits.
It’s that little nugget of life that leaves the body at the climax of blood loss. It’s the spark of life that rejuvinates creatures like Footsie and Risa. Sure the blood they drink keeps them alive and functioning, but without this final piece they will continue to age and decay.
Footsie has never experienced the bliss of consuming this energy. Risa has never allowed it. He can drink his fill but must always pull his teeth out and close off his old twisted throat as he senses the moment arriving. That moment is for Risa alone.
It’s no wonder Footsie looks as he does. All the work and none of the reward. Well almost none of it. He has his fun, she makes sure of it.
Olive had been a gift from Risa, and once he’s done playing with her, he’ll hand her back and Risa will finish her off, taking on what’s left of her energy. Not that there is ever much left once Footsie is done with his toys. The vegan diet that Risa insists his pets stay on does not help them recover very quickly, and Footsie has an insatiable appetite.
“Yeah Kiel, I know. But, Risa told me to. We need to meet. There’s been some developments. Can you and Olive meet us at the cabin in an hour?” Footsie was unshaken by Kiel’s anger. Never has been. He’s been around way too long to be reactionary anymore.
“Oh, yeah, I mean if she wants me there, I’m there.” Kiel’s anger was subsiding. “Tell her I’m on my way.”
Fireside With Footsie
14
The Now
The morning sky was blood red in the east when I rolled out of bed and looked out the window. A chill ran up my spine and an old sailor’s rhyme returned to my mind.
“Red sky at night, a sailor’s delight.
Red sky at mornin, sailor take warning”
I turned to see El still lying in bed, the finest threads of silver hair shimmering in the morning light. With a beautiful, knowing smile on her face she said “good morning Will, are you reciting poetry about the sky in your mind again?”
She knows me all too well.
Her attention went to the window, and the expression on her face changed at once. The beautiful little grin disappeared and her hands covered her face in an effort to hold in an outburst of laughter.
I looked back to the window to see what was so damned funny, and there was Luci……
Dear Reader,
Did you make it? Are you still here?
Love ya, talk soon
Part 5 is coming soon
It’s what I would call
“The Climax”
It’s gonna get messy
❤️👻
-Will
Compelling story continues. I see you are not adverse to exploring the guts of life - metaphorically and literally! What a crazy world you are opening your readers to. I'll stay tuned. Thanks, Will.