A Wolf's Paradise

Writer's Cramps!

2012-08-28T12:49:00.000-07:00

First of all I would like to apologize for the incredibly long hiatus, certain things in life are unavoidable, like Mack trucks and old age. For me it was my ability to turn thoughts into words, I guess it just left me for a while, sort of took a vacation to the Bahamas without me. Talk about writer's block, I had writer's Great Wall. Just the thought of trying to sit down and work on something made me ill, that's how it goes sometimes I guess. I think for me it was the feeling that I was getting really close to something momentous, but in the back of my mind I had convinced myself that something like that couldn't possibly happen so why even try, a fear of failure perhaps. Who knows for sure.

I may not have written much over the last year or so, but I did read quite a lot of books, reading those books eventually produced the help I needed. Sometimes you find inspiration right where you expect to find it, I found mine in between the pages of a book from an old friend of mine, Mr. Stephen King, the Eminent sage and writer junkie! 'Bag of Bones' provided me with a sense of determination to plunder ahead, just when you think all is lost something can spark the old noodle back into action. I'm happy to report that mine is picking up speed again, and I'm ready to limber up my fingers and hit the old Selectric once more!

Cheers everybody,

We'll talk again soon!..........Jeff

New book

2011-08-29T08:11:00.000-07:00

I know, I know, its been a while. This has been a rather distracting summer, what with family vacations, hurricanes, and what-not. I'll try and do better.

My good friend Jonathan Maberry is launching his new Y-A novel from Simon and Schuster, tomorrow August 30, 2011. It is the sequel to his highly acclaimed Y-A book, Rot and Ruin.

If Dust and Decay is anything like Rot and Ruin, then I am certain it will be a wonderful read. Rot and Ruin left this reader wanting more for sure.

Here is a link to a review:
http://books.simonandschuster.com/Dust-Decay/Jonathan-Maberry/9781442402355

Check it out, you won't be sorry, Mr. Maberry is a writer of immense talent.

Slacker

2011-08-02T13:15:00.000-07:00

Hi everybody, I know I've been away for a while, but now I'm back and I'm back on track. For some reason every time I go to CA, something saps my motivation. This time, however, it wasn't my fault. I blew up my laptop, no laptop, no writing.

I did manage to get some reading in while I was out there though, and good reading it was. I embarked into the world of Tim Waggoner, Nekropolis to be more specific. I read the first two books in this series, and I wasn't disappointed. Tim has created a world that is every bit as bizarre as you would expect from a world that houses all of the things that go bump in the night.

Entrenched in that world is a man who relies most heavily on his brains as well as his wit, not necessarily because he wants to, but because he has to, for you see Matt Richtus is a self-willed zombie, zombie detective that is.

Clever writing and good story-lines draw you into the world of Nekropolis very quickly. Once you start, you will have a hard time putting them down, because you'll have to see what kind of trouble our hero gets himself into next.

I have resumed work on A Wolf's Paradise now that I have the use of a working computer, so I guess that means I'd better get back to work.

Back soon,

JRH

Great Book!

2011-07-12T11:35:00.000-07:00

So I'm two-thirds of the way through "Darkness On The Edge of Town" by Brian Keene, and I'm loving it. How come I haven't read this guys stuff before now? Darkness, sucks you in right from the get go with regular Joe characters who are prisoners in their own town just trying to survive the endless night. Everything beyond the borders of their town is gone, it has been replaced by a darkness, and not just any darkness, this one seems to have some sort of consciousness and it's evil...

Many of the towns residents have gone missing after trying to leave town through the darkness, witnesses claimed to have heard their screams just after entering the cold black, the darkness has also affected residents of Walden, making normal everyday people do things that they never would have dreamed of doing before.

If you're looking to spend a few hours with a great read, check out "Darkness On The Edge of Town" by Brian Keene, you won't be disappointed.

Stuff

2011-07-04T14:40:00.000-07:00

I hope everyone had, or is still having a great fourth of July. I haven't had much of a chance to work on the blog lately, busy, busy you know. Things are moving right along with A Wolf's Paradise, in fact Max is about to embark on a cross country bus trip to visit a new friend.

I was playing around with the idea of a collaborative short story session if anyone is interested. The idea is to write a few lines, up to a couple of paragraphs and then hand it off to the next person. Might be fun. Ideas and suggestions as to how to pull it off would be welcome. Let me know; hiro83@hotmail.com

I'll leave you with a piece of my weekend for now, peace.

JRH

A Bit of Good News

2011-06-29T06:34:00.000-07:00

Well everyone, I'm afraid this isn't going to be the normal post that you're used to for Wednesday. Instead of the continuation of A Wolf's Paradise, I have an announcement to make. No I'm not stopping the blog, just turning it in a new direction.

You see recently I have had publishing interest in A Wolf's Paradise, Woo-Hoo, and with that interest I have been advised to stop publishing chapter by chapter on the internet.

However, I do plan to keep the blog going with writing updates on the progress of Wolf, short stories, author interviews, and so on. I urge you to check in once and a while and follow my progress, and to also see what else is going with friends and colleagues of mine in the literary world.

Thank you so much for all of your support since this thing got started!!!

Have a great week,

JRH

Chapter Three - Part Four...Time To Grow Up Kid

2011-06-22T06:57:00.000-07:00

Maintaining eye contact with me, Mr. Jennings walked directly over to my desk. Leaning down and in, close to my ear so the other kids wouldn’t overhear him, he softly whispered, “Mr. D would like you to accompany him to his office.”

Apparently the teachers couldn’t pronounce Mr. D’s name either. “What’s this all about Mr. Jennings,” I asked warily.

“I think you’d better let Mr. D tell you that son,” his voice quavering ever so slightly. When he called me son, I started to wonder what the heck was going on.

Seeing that I wasn’t going to get anything out of the usually loquacious Mr. Jennings, I got up and started the long walk down the green mile, towards Mr. D and the doom that awaited me. As I slowly dragged my suddenly leaden feet through the classroom, I could feel the entire classroom staring at me, as well as hearing the little sniggers and snide comments coming from my supposed friends. I couldn’t just let their derision go, so I twisted my head slowly around like a cobra, appraising the rogues gallery that was my class, and gave them the most withering stare that I could manufacture. It didn’t really have much effect though, but what the hell, it made me feel better.

Three things happened next, and if you ever asked me if I thought they were possible, I probably would have stared at you like a third eye had just grown out of your forehead, things like this just didn’t happen.

First, when I had finally finished my funeral march across the classroom floor to Mr. D and my impending doom, he didn’t say a word to me; which wasn’t the odd part. He could probably stare at a prisoner for days without uttering a word, until you’d finally just crack, turning into a blubbering wreck; you’d confess like some God forsaken sinner to all the bad things you’d done in your life, whether you’d done them or not, all the while just hoping to get those terrible glasses to stop staring through you, stripping your soul bare, leaving you with an empty, hollow feeling inside.

Nope, this is how the first one went down... When we stepped out into the hall he did speak to me, and it scared the crap out of me, not because of what he said, no, it was the way in which he said it. Laying one of his enormous hands on my shoulder, causing a cold shudder to run through my body, all the way from head to my toes, Mr. D spoke to me with a solicitude that I didn’t think the big man was capable of.

“I want you to come with me son,” was all he said.

Believe it or not, I swear that I noticed the same small quaver in his voice that I had heard when Mr. Jennings told me I was to accompany Mr. D to the office; and he called me son as well. I was starting to get a really bad feeling in my guts; my illusions of the giant school principal were crashing down all around me. If the great man whom I thought was unflappable in any situation was showing signs of emotion, then surely the apocalypse couldn’t be far behind.

I wanted to know what was going on, but I didn’t, if you know what I mean? I knew that I hadn’t done anything wrong, so whatever he had to tell me I was sure couldn’t be good news. In the end my curiosity got the better of me and I squeaked out a question. “Um, Mr. D, could you please tell me what’s going on, I don’t think that I did anything wrong today.”

He looked down at me and said, “I think we should probably wait until we get to my office Max, ok?”

I nodded in agreement, while shaking my head in disbelief at the same time. What the hell was going on here that he couldn’t at least give me some inclination of where this was all heading, and he knows my first name, whoa… not good, not good at all.

We finally made it to the office where Ms. Hoover was waiting to greet us, and that’s where the second sign of the apocalypse reared its ugly little head. Not only did Ms. Hoover not even look up from whatever she was doing, to give me her usual sardonic half-smile. Mr. D ushered me straight into his office, bypassing the chair and it’s 15 minutes of hunched over, splinterrific-pain, ‘OH GOD,’ what have I done?

Mr. D offered me a seat in front of his desk, which I immediately took for fear of passing out if I waited to long to sit. The air around me seemed unusually thick all of a sudden, and I was having some trouble breathing. My skin was awash with the sensation of a million needles poking into me all at once, and I felt really dizzy. I don’t think I’d ever been this nervous in all my life to receive the news that was about to be handed down.

To make things worse, Mr. D didn’t go straight to his seat to give it to me. He walked over to his office window and just stared out at some unknown object off in the distance for a minute or two. It had the feel of a man trying to collect his thoughts before he could speak, or a man who just plain didn’t know what to say. I’ll tell you what though, it wasn’t doing my nerves any good, but I knew better than to push the man.

I didn’t think it would be possible for me to be any more nervous than I was, but when Mr. D finally took his seat behind the desk, I was a lot more nervous. You see, Mr. D seemed to shrink a little bit when he sat down in his chair, his shoulders were slumped, he leaned forward a bit and placed his elbows on the desk, and he lowered his head into his hands, then ran his fingers through his hair. It kind of felt like he was nervous to tell me whatever he had to tell me, which an hour ago would have seemed impossible, and that’s when it happened, the third sign.

With his hands still on top of his head, Mr. D inclined his head up, as he did so his hands lowered to the frames of his glasses pulling them off as his head came up and he looked at me for the first time without the glasses on. It was then that I saw the torture and pain in his eyes, they were the eyes of a man who would rather be anywhere but here, bloodshot and red around the edges like he’d been crying recently, and then he spoke.

“Son, I don’t know of any good way to give news like this, and believe me I’ve been trying to think of one, so I’m just going to tell you and hopefully you won’t resent me later for being so blunt. The truth is that there’s been an accident involving your folks.” He gave me a moment to digest this.

Reading the answer all over his face, I still asked, “Are they ok, what happened?” My body was now starting to shake.

Taking another moment to collect himself, Mr. D took in a deep breath and gave it to me straight, “They were on the interstate access road this morning after they dropped you off. Apparently they were just getting to the point where the speed limit increases to 55 mph, and it starts to go uphill, when a car traveling in the opposite direction at a high rate of speed crossed the center line and moved directly into your parent’s path. He hit them head on Max, and knocked their car over the embankment and into the river.” I could see the tears starting to form in his eyes, even through the blur that was fogging my vision.

He got up from his desk and started walking around it towards me, “they never had a chance son, I’m so sorry,” his voice straining to get the words out.

I just sat there in utter disbelief of what had just been laid on me, all I could do was shake my head back and forth while uttering no over and over again. Could it have been only a couple of hours ago, that my parents had dropped me off at school, smiling and waving goodbye, telling me to have a great day? Hot tears were burning their way down my cheeks and I was blowing snot-bubbles out of my nose. This just couldn’t be, not my kind, gentle, loving parents, and that was when it really hit me. “I’m all alone Mr. D,” I spluttered.

I never thought the big man could move so fast, but he was around his desk in a flash, picking me up out of my chair ever so gently, just like he was my father taking me out of my crib after a morning nap. He wrapped me up in a gigantic bear-hug, and I just let it all go at once, my body wracked with sobs. “What am I going to do?”

“Lets not worry about that right now, son.” At that moment Mr. D was all the family I had in the world.

I hope you all enjoyed this weeks offering.

As always, I appreciate any input you have.

Tell your friends, and have a great week!

JRH

Good Stuff!

2011-06-21T10:27:00.000-07:00

Hey everybody, while you are all eagerly awaiting the next installment of A Wolf's Paradise; check out the links to some of my friends blogs. If you love good horror writing as I do, and everything else that goes with it, you will not be disappointed. And once again, the newest post will be up and running tomorrow.

Thanks,
JRH

Chapter Three - Part Three... Me and Mr. D

2011-06-15T06:13:00.000-07:00

At 10:36 that morning I was enduring another one of Mr. Jennings extremely boring lectures on the socioeconomic impacts of new technology on indigenous cultures. Schools in VT didn’t have the luxury of air conditioning, and the early May heat wave was having its way with me. I was more or less drifting off into space in a heat induced coma, dreaming of the sweet sounds of the bell ‘O’ freedom at 2:19 this afternoon. As I was gazing at those unknown spaces, I happened to see the schools principal walk up to our classroom’s door and stop.

I remember thinking that it was odd to see Mr. D at the door, he usually wouldn’t be bothered to come snatch a kid out of class for deviant behavior, whoever was in trouble must’ve really screwed up big-time to get a personal escort from the big cheese himself. I’d had the pleasure of sitting on the receiving end of his enormous desk before, and believe me, that was intimidating enough.

We called him Mr. D mostly because nobody could pronounce Dziubek right, it was a Polish name or something, but nobody ever would have dared to pick on Mr. D about that. You see, Mr. D was a big dude, and not just because we were kids, he was a Big dude. He was every bit of 6’ 5” tall, and I’m guessing that he probably tipped the scales at well over 250lbs, and he wore a kick-ass handlebar moustache.

To add to the overall threatening appearance of the school principal, Mr. D wore these suits with really blocky shoulders and narrow waistlines, making him look even bigger than he was, kind of like a super-villain out of a Batman comic book. He also wore cowboy boots, adding another two inches of height to his already towering frame. The piece de resistance was his glasses; Mr. D wore these glasses with big square lenses and brushed chrome frames, which in itself wasn’t very intimidating; the fact that they were darkly tinted so that you couldn’t see his eyes, not to mention the fact that he never took them off…, that was intimidating, very intimidating.

If you’d had the pleasure of your presence being requested at the principal's office, it wasn’t just a quick in and out with a slap on the hand and a stern, “don’t do it again.” Oh no, you got the full POW treatment from Mr. D. You’d walk into the office, only to be greeted with a grunt from Mr. D’s ancient secretary, Ms. Hoover, 800 years old and never been married, now there’s a shock! When you try to picture Ms. Hoover, just think Old Crone, it works for me. Ms. Hoover’s wrinkles had wrinkles.

After the grunted greeting, Ms. Hoover would point with her hairy, wart infested chin towards the most uncomfortable chair ever devised by man which sat right beside Mr. D’s office door, his door was always closed. I don’t know where he found this chair, and I’m not sure if it was even legal to use in a school, unless the state school board had loosened its stance on cruel and unusual punishment, and the use of torture device’s in school.

“The Chair,” as it was affectionately known was absolutely horrible, it was made entirely out of wood, but not just any wood, it was made from the hardest wood known to man and it was rough hewn, which meant it still had plenty of splinters to share with bad little boy's and girl's butts. Maybe it was stolen from a giant’s castle, or Mr. D’s house as it was just too tall for a kid to sit in. Kids would have to back up to it and place the heels of their hands on the seat, all the while risking a splinter or two, and then hoist themselves up. It didn’t stop there though, whoever had spawned this creation also made the front of the seat higher than the back, and the seatback itself leaned forward, so as you were sitting there folded in the middle, it felt as if this cruel chair were trying to eat you.

Mr. D knew if you were in the chair too, because he would always give you time to think about your crimes while sitting in this chair. The standard wait time was usually around ten minutes, but if your misdeed was of an extra grievous nature, you could expect to spend up to fifteen or twenty minutes being devoured by “the chair.”

When he thought you had stewed for long enough he would buzz Ms. Hoover’s desk to let her know that he was ready for your sentencing to begin. At the sound of the buzzer, Ms. Hoover would slowly look over at the accused and smile, which was her way of letting you know that Mr. D was ready. At this point you would hobble bent over like the Hunchback of Notre Dame to the Mr. D’s door and knock. After ten seconds or so you would hear one word uttered from within.

“Come,” the voice would say, sounding like it had just gargled a handful of razor blades.

That was the other thing about Mr. D, his voice only had one volume, but it was a deep, low rumble of a voice, sort of like a grizzly bear who had just been woken from a nap, it wasn’t a voice you really wanted to be mad at you.

So now this scary mountain of a man was at our classroom door, about to grab some unsuspecting schlub out of their seat and drag them from the painful droning of Mr. Jennings lecture, which in itself wouldn’t be all that bad, but sitting across the desk from Mr. D, that was bad.

With a gentleness I didn’t think he could effect, Mr. D gently rapped on the door. Looking mildly annoyed, Mr. Jennings ceased his ramblings, but when he saw who was at the door, he immediately went to answer it. After a brief conference with their backs to the classroom, they turned in unison and together they both stared directly at me with worried looks on both their faces.

“Oh Shit,” slithered out from between my clenched teeth.

Make sure to check in next Wednesday for the latest in Max's journey! I really do value your opinions, so please tell me what you think. If you like what you're reading tell all your friends.

Cheers Mates, I raise my glass to you all!

Chapter Three- Part Two...My worst day!

2011-06-09T15:48:00.000-07:00

You see, I’ve lived here my entire life, and I’ve seen a lot of thing’s change over the years, and mostly it’s not a good kind of change. It’s kind of sad when the innocence of your youth is torn from your hands by the sound of gunshots followed by cars racing off down unknown streets in the middle of the night. When I was younger it didn’t seem like such a bad place, I don’t know that it was any better, maybe it was just that I was looking at with a child’s eyes. When you’re a kid you don’t see the flaws, all you see are the summers with no end, best friends forever, and parents that won’t let you stay up late enough to watch all the good TV shows.

Yeah, well all the sunny days of chasing the clouds away, were stolen from me when I was eleven, this is how it went down; you see my parents could only afford one car when I was growing up so we would all carpool together in the morning. It was actually pretty nice, we all got to see each other on our way before the day actually started, you know. Me and Dad could talk about the big game that was on TV the night before, Mom could remind Dad to pick up some milk on the way home, family stuff, the things you always take for granted, and we didn’t know it at the time, but we were actually being environmentally conscious by only driving one car.

On May 14^th, 2006, a day like any other day, we all piled into the car together and hit the road. Dad would drive because he had the farthest commute to work, and they would drop me at school first, and then Dad would bring Mom to her job, Mom worked for the state over in Montpelier. Every day we’d pull up in front of my school, I’d lean forward over the front seat of our car, and we’d all sort of do a group hug; Me with my arms around my parent’s necks, and the two of them sandwiching my cheeks with a kiss. I didn’t care; I really loved my parents and didn’t particularly give a crap if anyone saw us, besides I was pretty big, even at eleven and could intimidate most of the other kids at school. I remembered thinking as I got out of the car and said goodbye to my Mom and Dad, this is going to be an awesome day, the sun was bright and it was an unusually warm day for mid May.

May 14^th turned out to be the worst day of my young life. I didn’t know it then, but when I smiled and waved goodbye to my parents that morning it would be the last time that I ever saw them alive.

Check in next Wednesday as the saga continues...

Chapter Three...Beginnings

2011-06-07T08:23:00.000-07:00

Beginnings

Chapter Three

"The journey of a thousand miles begins beneath one's feet."

Lau Tzu

Hi my name is Max Soluski, the root of the name being Solus which means "alone" in Latin, you might find that interesting after I’ve blathered on for a little bit longer. I’ve spent my entire life in the backwoods towns of a place called Central VT. The Barre-Montpelier area to be more specific, and no it’s not pronounced bar; it’s more like bury, which coincidentally is how I feel living here, buried. Most people who have never been to VT before, outside of New Englander’s, think that VT is in Canada, it’s not, it’s that tiny speck on the map in between NY and NH, Canada is above us. Yes people, the school systems are failing us everywhere.

A friend of mine told me once that the mountains here have a way of closing in around you, making it even harder to get out. One of my favorite singers, Steve Earl once wrote a song that had a line in it, “Won’t nothing bring you down, like your home town.” They were both right on cue, at least to my way of thinking; most days I feel like I’m a prisoner here waiting to be exonerated for my crimes so I can get the hell on.

It’s hard to live somewhere that you don’t want to be, especially when you don’t feel like you belong there, or you feel like you’re an outsider. Not having any family or friends, and being shipped from one strangers house to another, time after time kind of makes you feel like an outsider. It’s not that I think that I’m better than the next guy, I just feel like there’s more for me out there beyond the shadow of the mountains. I need wide open spaces; I want to be able to see for hundreds of miles without a mountain obstructing my view. I guess I have claustrophobia on a grand scale, it’s statewide, ha-ha.

Check back soon for the next post!

Chapter Two, Part Four

2011-06-01T07:54:00.000-07:00

Joey glanced over at the Sheriff, “So what’s the plan boss?”

“It’s like I said before son, we gotta put him down. There’s definitely something not right with this fella, and I’m not going to take a chance on him getting those teeth into somebody.”

Without saying another word Sheriff Brown raised his rifle to his shoulder and took aim, as he did so the wolf turned his head and looked into the hardware store’s front window. It was almost as if he was trying to see who the Sheriff was aiming his rifle at. Turning his massive head back around, he stared once more at the Sheriff, and then he started to walk towards him.

His eyebrows were arched up almost in a quizzical sort of way, as if he were trying to say, “Hey Sheriff, how ya doing? Awfully nice day don’t you think, oh and why the hell are you pointing that nasty looking gun at me?”

Sheriff John Brown didn’t need any more of an excuse than that, when he saw the wolf start moving towards him. Steadying himself, he took aim directly at the great wolf’s chest. For a moment time seemed to slow down, sounds were muffled around him, ever so briefly he felt like he was inside a vacuum and all the air in the immediate area had been sucked out. He took a deep breath and fired; everything that he had felt a moment ago exploded at the same moment the hammer on his gun struck the round. The report of his rifle seemed even louder than normal, maybe it was because a deathly quiet had befallen the whole town in the moments just before he took the shot.

The shot from the Sheriff’s big hunting rifle had an immediate effect, the big wolf stopped like he had just run into an invisible wall. He stopped, but he didn’t fall, he looked down at the blackened hole in his fur that was starting to bleed, and then he looked back up at the Sheriff with a look that was part shock and part disbelief. He raised his giant head and howled half-heartedly, and then with a shudder he fell over on his side and didn’t move.

“Is it dead Sheriff?” asked someone who was watching from nearby.

“I reckon it is, but I suppose we should have a look see, eh Joey?”

Shouldering his rifle with the sling, Sheriff Brown drew his service revolver. Being a small town, the Sheriff didn’t feel the need for too much firepower and that’s why he carried a five shot .38 caliber police special, instead of Springfield 1911 .45 caliber auto jobby, there just wasn’t a need for that kind of stopping power here in Bettles.

Holding their pistols out in front of themselves in a two handed shooters-stance, the two men advanced on the wolf. When they were close enough the Sheriff reached out with the toe of his boot and gently nudged the animal in the ribs. Seeing no signs of life he got a little closer, and then slowly knelt down beside it.

“Damn it Sheriff, would you please be careful,” whispered Deputy Joey.

“Don’t worry buddy,” exhaled the Sheriff, “I think he’s gone.”

At that moment the wolf raised its head up a couple of inches off the street and looked directly into the Sheriff’s mirrored sunglasses. Joey jumped back, barely suppressing the shriek that tried to jump out of his throat. The Sheriff fell directly back onto his butt. After holding the Sheriff in its sight for a moment, the wolf gently laid his head back on the ground closing his eyes as he did so, and with one last rumble the giant timber wolf exhaled his last breath.

In the next installment we meet Max. Check it out!

Chapter Two, Part Three

2011-05-25T16:00:00.000-07:00

Nodding back, the Sheriff rounded the corner on to Main Street where they saw quite a group of people looking in the direction of Collin’s Hardware Store.

“Bunch of idiots, don’t they know a dangerous situation when they see one? I tell you Joey boy people just never cease to amaze me.”

As they approached the crowd they got their first glimpse of what had gathered these people together like this.

“Jesus,” said Joey, “would you look at the size of that thing, it’s got to be at least a 200 pounder Sheriff, and why’s it just staring at us like that?”

“Damned if I know son, damned if I know,” whispered the Sheriff as he slowly pulled the Bronco over to the curb near the ever increasing crowd. They both got out of the Bronco at the same time, the Sheriff grabbing his rifle as he did so, carefully so as not to arouse the wolf‘s suspicion and send it into action, although he didn’t know why. There was no reason in hell that a wild animal such as this would even know what a gun was.

The wolf just stared at them, almost as if he knew them, his jaws started to slowly move in just such a way as to make his black rubbery lips rise up in the corners.

“What the hell is it doing Jon,” whispered Joey to the Sheriff, the fact that Joey had just called his boss by his first name, definitely meant he was scared.

“Your guess is as good as mine junior, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t look like he’s trying to smile at us. It must be as crazy as a shit-house rat though, the way it’s just standing there and sort of taking us in like that.”

Read on blogsters, it's about to get really interesting!

Chapter Two, Part Three

2011-05-24T15:20:00.001-07:00

“Seems we got us a beast of a wolf out there for a stroll on Main Street, and if I were a betting man, which I’m not.” The sheriff said, grinning lopsidedly at Joey. “I would have to say that the beasty’s not in the right frame of mind.” At that he lazily twirled his finger around his right ear. “So we’re going to do him a great big favor son, and send him all the way back to baby Jesus.”

“Um, Sheriff.” Billy wheezed, “About how big did Mrs. Browerton say this thing is?”

It was well known around town that Deputy Joey Smalls wasn’t the bravest soul to ever walk the land, but he had a big heart, and the Sheriff had known Joey’s dad since kindergarten, so he tried to cut him a little bit more slack than he might normally have afforded any other young deputy.

“Well there Daniel Boone, I’m not sure how accurate this description actually is, but according to Nancy it’s almost four feet tall at the shoulders and anywhere between 185-195 pounds.”

Joey just stared at his boss for a minute trying to wrap his mind around what he’d just heard. “You’re not shitting me; it could really be that big?”

There was no humor in the Sheriff’s eyes this time when he smiled, “No matter how big it is son, we have a job to do, and if this wolf is wandering around our town in the light of day, then there is something seriously wrong with him. I know that confrontation isn’t your strong suit, I never liked it much either, but I need you on your toes for this one. Loopy animals are unpredictable, and this one is close to two hundred pounds with big teeth.”

With that the Sheriff locked eyes with Joey, “I need to know right now if I can count on you Jo, cause if I can’t, you’re no good to me. So I’m going to ask, are you with me on this one?”

It only took him a moment, but Deputy Joey Smalls slowly nodded his assent, “I’m with you sir,” he added, making sure that the Sheriff knew that he could trust him.

Thanks for reading today's post. Come on back tomorrow!

UZUGGGVTAR3Y

Chapter Two, Part Two

2011-05-23T16:19:00.000-07:00

The sheriff of Bettles had received a call a few minutes earlier from Nancy Browerton, who lived over on Central Street about a giant timber wolf that was just roaming around the streets of town and had just about scared the life out of her and her son Tommy.

Sheriff Jon Brown knew a thing or two about timber wolves, and he knew that there was no way that one of these fellows would just wander into town on it’s own unless it was crazy or rabid, or both. If it was as big as Nancy claimed, he knew for double sure it wouldn’t just wander into town, the big ones usually lived way out in the wild barrens of Alaska and wouldn’t come this close to civilization.

Occasionally a small gray, or a brown would be seen on the outskirts of town, but these were generally small wolves, that were probably looking for a garbage can to ransack or a chicken to steal. So why a giant timber would be roaming the streets of Bettles, seemingly oblivious to the people who lived here was beyond the sheriff’s comprehension, unless it really was mad.

After receiving the call, Sheriff Jon Brown quickly snatched up his silver tinted cop shades, the very same ones Ponch had worn on C.H.I.P.S, God he loved that crappy old cop show, his 30-30 hunting rifle and his deputy, Joey Smalls. Jumping into his Ford Bronco, the deputy asked him what was going on, and why the hell were they in such a hurry about it?

Chapter Two

2011-05-20T08:49:00.000-07:00

The wolf was walking down the Main Street sidewalk of Bettles like it had not a care in the world. It was even stopping to look into some of the various storefront’s windows, not just cursory glances either, it was taking long thoughtful looks at whatever happened to be on display at these stores. When the wolf got to Collin’s hardware store, it really seemed to be taking stock of what was on display.

They had all sorts of things in that window, everything from fishing poles, to the latest Black and Decker cordless tools. Camping equipment, rifles, and even a couple of old truck parts were displayed in all their glory, and the wolf seemed to be looking at all of it.

The beast seemed especially interested in an old Remington 30-30 bolt action hunting rifle, maybe it recognized it from when a hunter had taken out one his pack mates. On the other hand, if you were watching carefully, it looked like the beast was actually slowly and methodically checking out the different aspects of the weapon. Crazy as it may sound, the wolf wasn’t looking at the gun like it had killed his Pa, it was looking at the gun like it wanted to walk right in to Collin’s place, throw down $189.95, and walk back out with it.

Just then the sounds of a siren could be heard all through the sleepy little town. Sirens weren’t heard very often in Bettles, so when you did hear one it was either a false alarm, or something big was going down. From seemingly out of nowhere, a crowd of people had started to gather across the street from the hardware store, silently watching the curious creature examining the goods in the storefront window.

Bettles was an old frontier town so the streets weren’t all that wide, in some areas of town the roads were still paved with cobblestones. As narrow as the streets were, they didn’t provide all that much distance between the crowd and the beast. If the wolf were to all of a sudden take notice of his fan club, there’s no doubt he could have been in the middle of them in seconds flat. Aware of the imminent danger, they still didn’t seem to care, nobody had ever seen a wolf this big before, especially one brazen enough to walk down their streets in broad daylight.

Chapter One, Part Four

2011-05-19T06:40:00.000-07:00

The woman and her son continued to watch the wolf as it walked down the street, seemingly taking in all the sights as it went, it seemed to her as though the great beast were on a Sunday stroll, sauntering along without a care in the world, not at all acting like the wild predator that it was.

When they felt like the animal had put enough distance between them, she turned and ran into the house without even looking back to see if the wolf had changed its mind. Putting her son down she asked him if he was ok, meekly replying that he was, she went into the kitchen to call the town’s sheriff, and tell him that there was a mad wolf casually roaming the streets of their fair town terrorizing its citizens.

When she was finished talking to the sheriff’s office she hung up the phone and tried to recount the last bits of her encounter with the wolf. There was something nagging at the back of her mind about the way the wolf had looked at her and her son. There was something there, something she just couldn’t quite put her finger on, but she knew it was there. What was it?

At the time she had been paralyzed with fear, but now that she was calmed down a bit she remembered something about the way the wolf had looked at them. There didn’t seem to be any rage in its eyes, it didn’t seem to exude the white hot hatred of a predator trying to intimidate its prey. Now that she thought about it a little more, it seemed as though the beast had a thoughtful look in its eyes, almost like it was trying to say hello.

“Hell, if that were the case, then maybe when it was baring it’s teeth at us it wasn’t really trying to scare the ever-loving crap out of us, maybe it was just trying to smile and say lovely day for a stroll don’t you think?” She said to herself laughing out loud at the absurdity of it. Falling back on the couch next to her son, she looked at him and exclaimed, “I must be going crazy.”

Chapter One, Part Three

2011-05-18T08:54:00.000-07:00

This time the boy moved his head about a half an inch forward and then back again, the movement was so slow that it was almost imperceptible.

“Alright,” she said, “lets move, but remember, go slow and I’ll guide you.”

Bracing herself for the excruciatingly long backwards journey to the front porch of their house, she took in a deep breath, being careful not to make any sudden movements and waited for her son to take his first step. The whole time she was standing there she made sure that she maintained eye contact with the wolf, as she was doing so, she could have sworn that the beast’s gaze kept wandering back and forth between her and her son.

Before her son could take his first step backwards towards the house, the wolf’s lips started to peel back away from his teeth in an upward arc towards the corners of its mouth forming a rictus of repulsion. As it did so, row after row of razor sharp, yellow stained, monstrous teeth were revealed. Though never daring to express it out loud, the woman thought to herself, “my God, this is it!”

She was so afraid that this monstrous killing machine was ready to attack, that she decided to throw caution to the wind and just grab her son and make a run for the house. Not knowing in the least what was going on, all the air that the boy had been holding in his lungs whooshed out of him when his mother scooped him up in the only way it could, a high pitched, fear-filled scream.

Throughout all the commotion, the wolf stayed exactly where he was, the gruesome rows of fangs that had been on display just moments before, disappeared behind his black rubbery lips. After giving the mother and her son the scare of their lives, he spared them one last golden eyed glance before he pointed his head back down Center Street and casually resumed his trek towards the Bettles, Alaska business district.

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Chapter 1, Part 2

2011-05-17T15:41:00.000-07:00

As it sauntered along, its huge chest rose and fell not unlike a bellows in an old blacksmith’s forge. Should you be close enough to hear, its breathing would have sounded like a laboring locomotive forcing its steam up out of the stack. With each long step it took its paws slapped the pavement with a purpose, and when the monster picked up speed it almost sounded like someone methodically clapping.

Continuing down Center street it stopped to look at a small child who was playing in the front yard of his house, it was a cold day so the youngster was pretty well bundled up, including a scarf that was wrapped around his face leaving only his eyes exposed, but the fear the child was experiencing shone through his eyes as if it were painted on a sign that he was displaying in his hand. Frozen to the spot in the yard where he had first seen the wolf, all he could do was stare back at the huge animal in silent anticipation of what the beast might do

Inside the young man’s house his mother happened to look out the window to check on her son and saw what was stopped out on the sidewalk in front of her house staring at her son from less than twenty feet away. As horrified as she was at the sight of the giant wolf, she knew she had to do something, after all there was an animal outside big enough to eat her small child in a couple of tasty bites.

All she could think to do was to slowly approach her son, being careful not to make any sudden movements, wild animals tend to be jittery and the last thing she wanted to do was provoke an attack. The wolf was close enough to both herself and her son that there was no way she could get them both to safety before being ripped to pieces. Her heart was beating so hard that she swore she could actually hear it pounding in her ears. Although she was only a few feet from her son, she felt miles away. With every tension filled step all she was able to think about was that any second the monster on the sidewalk was going to explode; like a coiled spring, teeth gnashing, and bits of raw meat from its last meal spraying out of its mouth as it springs toward them in a blood fueled fury.

The wolf never moved it just stared back at them, almost as if it wanted to see what they would do. The mother took another step towards her son, nothing. Another step and still the wolf didn’t move a muscle. What did it want? Finally she reached the boy, standing behind him she slowly put her hand on his shoulder, as she did she felt his body stiffen like somebody had squeezed all of the air out of him.

“Son,” she said, “I want you to listen to me very carefully, if we don’t make any sudden movements, I don’t think it will attack. Here’s what I want you to do. When I say now, I want you to start walking backwards towards the house one step at a time. When you start to go, I’m going to match you step for step and guide you up the stairs and into the house. Now nod very slowly if you understand me.”

The boy continued his impersonation of a statue, his body still frozen with fear. It was almost as if he didn’t even know that his mother was there behind him. When she gently squeezed his shoulder though, he seemed to snap out of it, “Do you understand,” she repeated.

Tune in tomorrow for the next exciting installment-JRH

Chapter One

2011-05-16T18:02:00.000-07:00

It was a warm afternoon being this late in the fall; all the leaves had changed color, going from a painter’s palette of brilliant oranges, reds and yellows, painting the landscape prettier than Bob Ross could ever have imagined, to a cold dusky brown. Now they were fluttering to the ground in a last desperate act, creating Mother Nature’s blanket for the winter. The sun was just tickling the tops of the trees, dancing in and out the branches as if it were some golden-giant’s fingers being run through a head of hair.

That’s when the beast waltzed out of the woods like it was on a Sunday stroll; it walked about twenty yards down Mayfair Street, and then turned left onto Center Street heading directly for downtown Bettles, Alaska. The thing was huge even by Timber wolf standards; it had to be almost four feet tall at the shoulders, and a good 185 pounds if not more. The wolf was a dirty brownish gray color, though it was hard to tell due to the matting of it’s fur, and all the dirt and grime it seemed to have collected all over it’s massive body. Looking into it’s eyes you would almost swear that there was something going on in there, something calculating, thoughtful, something……….human.