Viewing Single Post From: The Thicket

Robert Hood's "Undead Backbrain" blog
G2KMaster's blog

Viewing Single Post From: The Thicket
packmule	Aug 4 2007, 11:30 AM
Site founder - Your best nightmare Posts: 32,921 Group: Administrator(staff) Member #1 Joined: January 29, 2006 Favorite giant monster film: Gojira(1954) Favorite horror film: House Of Wax(1953) Favorite sci-fi film: 2001: A Space Odyssey(1968)	Preview: Former Army Green Beret John Gabriel, age thirty six, has been locked out of the United States Army for good. Discharged dishonorably after striking a superior officer in a fit of rage, the disillusioned ex-soldier and veteran of two wars sequestered himself in his suburban apartment for a month, Gabriel's only companion two dozen bottles of cheap whiskey. A concerned friend and former Army comrade has referred the depressed and disillusioned Gabriel to a psychologist. At first Gabriel is skeptical of the psychologist, until he complies with the counselor's instructions to take a vacation at an isolated retreat in the rugged and remote foothills of appalachian North Carolina. There Gabriel may find the redemption he seeks...if his vacation doesn't kill him first. It's mondo madness: a well armed ex US Army Green Beret and a group of small town locals who also happen to be ravenous werewolves, coming together in the spooky little town of Barrows, NC...and then there's a psychologist named William Hobbes, who harbors a secret of his own... Part One: Journey Into Darkness 668 Mallerson Avenue Halveston, North Carolina Thirty six year old John Gabriel shifted in the seat, occasionally glancing at *Dr. William Hobbes. Gabriel disliked the psychologists office, which seemed sterile, stale, the walls pictureless, and Hobbe's desk fairly spartan as well, with nothing more than a desk blotter and a phone sitting on it. Hobbes, a slender, bald, gray bearded man with squinty blue eyes and spectacles, looked up at Gabriel after he'd finished writing notes in his handheld three ringed planner. "You forget that little audio device of yours?" Gabriel groused, cupping his hands together as he sat up in the chair. "Yes, I did. I have terrible handwriting too, so that makes it even worse," Dr. Hobbes replied, his voice baritone and slightly nasal. Gabriel looked out the nearby window. The sky had darkened and it had begun to rain steadily outside. "Raining again. Damn, it sure has been raining a lot lately," Gabriel complained, running a hand over his stubbled face, his dark eyes blinking. "We need the rain," Hobbes said blandly. Gabriel rubbed his eyes. "Still not sleeping well?" Hobbes said. "Your bills keep me up at night," Gabriel said. Hobbes chuckled. "From what I understand that's the least of your concerns," the psychologist mused. "I suppose," Gabriel said nonchalantly, a reference to the $150,000 inheritance he'd received from his aunt shortly after her death a few months back. "Have you spent any of it?" Hobbes asked. "No. I don't need to. I made plenty of money in the Army doc. Never spent much of it. After seventeen years it accumulated pretty good. I hope I don't blow it all on you," the ex U.S. Army Green Beret said, casting the psychologist a prolonged look. "Of course not. And we're making progress by the way," Hobbes added. "It sure doesn't feel like it," Gabriel said, getting out of the chair and walking to the window. The slender, broad shouldered, dark haired and dark eyed ex soldier looked out at the rain, which was coming down harder now, pelting the window loudly. "I can understand why you would say that. That's why I want you to get away for a weekend. Get out of town for a few days," Hobbes said. "What for?" John Gabriel said, turning to face the older, bearded psychologist. "There's a place where I send patients every so often...to rest, relax, that kind of thing. I think it'd do you some good. It's helped many patients of mine recharge," Hobbes said, sitting back in his chair, which creaked loudly under the doctor's weight. Gabriel's dark brown eyes narrowed. "Where's it at?" the former Army officer asked. "It's in state. Up north, near the Virginia stateline, in Barrows," Hobbes answered. "Barrows...I've heard of it. Very small town. Mostly upcountry, hard appalachian terrain, lots of forestland. I believe there's a lake up there," John Gabriel commented, running a hand through his thick, short, dark brown hair. Hobbes nodded. "You're right. My cabin is very close to it," the psychologist replied. "Your cabin?" Gabriel repeated. "That's right. I'm something of an outdoorsman John, when I'm not sitting here in this office," Hobbes confessed. "I'm surprised to hear you say that Doc. No offense but you don't look like the outdoors type," Gabriel said. Hobbes paused before speaking. Gabriel frowned. For just a fleeting moment he had the impression that the psychologist had taken great offense to his remark, and was going to leap out of his chair in a fit of rage. "I get that lot. No offense taken," Hobbe's remarked, managing a grin. "I want you to go up there and take a rest. Your friend Terry tells me you used to do a lot of fishing and hiking when you were on furlough," Dr. Hobbes said. "Well yeah but...look, it's your place. I don't want to mess it up-""You won't. I have a friend in Barrow who cleans it for me, does some housekeeping after patients have occupied it for a few days. It won't be any imposition, John," Hobbes said, writing on a small notepad. "Well, if you think it will help. I promised Terry I would...try and do things you suggested I do," the former Army Green Beret managed. Hobbes handed Gabriel the note. "The address is on there. There's a contact number on there as well," the bearded, bald psychologist noted. "Kerren Greiss. Who's that?" Gabriel inquired, looking down at the psychologist. "She works for the U.S. Forestry Service. My cabin is part of her assigned area. She works out of an office in Selby, about ten miles west of Barrows," Hobbes stated evenly. "How do you know here doc?" Gabriel asked, his dark eyes blinking. "I was fishing at Lake Barrow. Kerren was making her rounds and wrote me a ticket for exceeding my limit for bass at the lake," Hobbes said, mildly chuckling. "I see," Gabriel managed quietly. "Well, we became casual friends. I showed her my cabin...told her about my patients who used it on occasion. She keeps an eye on the place for me...that kind of thing. You'll probably see her while you're up there," Hobbes said. "When should I go up there?" Gabriel said, finishing his cup of lukewarm coffee. "This weekend," Hobbes answered quickly. "This weekend?" Gabriel repeated. Hobbes nodded yes. "Okay doc. I'll start packing my things. Maybe I'll do some hunting up there while I'm at it," the former Army Green Beret remarked. "I've got a nice grill on my patio I've never even used," Gabriel added. Hobbes looked at Gabriel without saying anything. "Here's my cell phone doc, if you need to reach me while I'm out of town. I'll...talk with you again when I get back," Gabriel said. Hobbes stood up out of his chair. "Relax up there John," Hobbes said. "I will doc. Maybe it will give me a new perspective on things," Gabriel said. "I think it will," Hobbes said. John Gabriel cast the psychologist a prolonged glance, then exited Dr. Hobbes office. Three days later... Kachawekan County, northeastern North Carolina* John Gabriel slowed his 1978 dark green Jeep pickup truck as the unpaved road narrowed, the ruts and other natural indentations of the dirt road becoming more pronounced. Gabriel cursed under his breath, his truck's suspension challenged by the old road. Towering oaks, sycamores, pines and various other trees flanked both sides of the dirt road, which snaked for nearly seven miles off route 17, the only significant paved road that ran through the neighboring, and tiny, town of Barrows, North Carolina. Gabriel checked his watch. It was nearly five in the afternoon, and the sun had already begun to set. The former Army officer rolled down the truck window a few inches, the cool 45 degree air quickly cooling the truck interior. Gabriel was surprised there was so little snow on the ground, considering it was early February. Up ahead Gabriel could see that the dirt road widened noticeably. Two minutes later John Gabriel stopped his truck and turned the engine off. He got out and surveyed the cabin. The cabin was small, modest looking, possessing a small front porch and a chimney. A large stack of firewood lay against the right side of the cabin, bound up in bright orange colored twine. Gabriel began moving his gear to the cabin's porch steps quickly, realizing it would be dark soon. As he moved his gear, which consisted of several duffel bags and an oversized backpack the former Army Green Beret tried to take in his surroundings. A dense thicket of woods bracketed the cabin on both sides and from behind. The front was relatively free of trees, and Lake Barrow was visible, about two hundred and twenty feet away. Gabriel could see the waters of the lake shimmer from the descending sunlight of the sunset. Crickets had already, en masse, begun their nightly crescendo as Gabriel unlocked the cabin and began moving his gear inside. The cabin interior was a reflection of Dr. Hobbe's office: plain, very basic in furnishings but, to Gabriel's relief, also possessing a working wood furnace, refrigerette and gas stove. Gabriel tossed his gear on the cot, which appeared to be an Army issue field cot but much wider. John Gabriel stepped back outside, descending the wood steps of the cabin, trudging over to his Jeep pickup truck. It was noticeably colder, the sun nearly down now as he zipped up his bomber style, olive green Army issue insulated jacket. The wind whistled through the trees as he lifted the last pack out of his truck. He could hear crickets. Gabriel closed the door of his pickup, deciding there was no need to lock it. Gabriel stopped at the bottom of the steps, looking at the dark, almost black wall of trees that loomed overhead some sixty feet behind the cabin. Between the cabin and the heavy wood line sat a dense thicket of oversized shrubs and vines. Gabriel managed a grin. His friend Terry Hanson, also a former Army Green Beret and owner of a grading and landscape business in Newton, just outside Fort Bragg, would have a lot of work to do around Hobbe's cabin. The former Army officer looked longer at the woodline and thicket. He had a sudden sensation that he was being watched. "You're losing it John," Gabriel grumbled under his breath, shaking his head slowly, at once unsure as to the source of his unease. Yet, there was something in the quiet serenity of the cabin and the surrounding woods that made Gabriel glare at the woods again. Finally, a moment later, he ascended the steps and entered the cabin, closing the door behind him. ...Gabriel lay awake on the cot, unable to sleep. Outside the wind had picked up, and occasionally rattled the single large glass window of the cabin, adjacent to the cabin door. The ex Army officer found the extreme quiet somewhat annoying...and a bit unsettling. He was used to noise, and while in the U.S. Army he'd been around plenty of that: mortars going off, grenade blasts, the loud chatter of M-16's and the deeper sound of M-60 and 50 caliber machine guns belching out their huge rounds. Gabriel could still hear the roar of howitzers, the whine of Blackhawk and Apache helicopters, and the noises from mobile Army triage and medical treatment posts, usually that of moans and screams from soldiers suffering shrapnel wounds. Two wars, in 1991 and then again in 2003, had left an indelible print on the handsome, but troubled Army veteran, culminating in his court martial in 2006, for attacking a Colonel during an interrogation of an Iraqi woman in a Baghdad bomb shelter. Gabriel rolled his neck and got up off the cot, wearing Army issue camo trousers and shirtless. He retrieved a pint bottle of Jack Daniels from the small wood table by the cabin stove and poured himself a shot. Gabriel managed to spill a small amount of the bottle's contents onto his abundantly hairy chest and stomach, and swore under his breath as he dabbed at himself with his shirt. He capped the bottle and lay back down, hoping the effects of the two shots would have the desired effect of making him drowsy. The liquor had just started to have that effect when the dark haired veteran heard a noise. Gabriel sat up and listened. He glanced over at the window. "Go to sleep John," Gabriel said under his breath, slowly lying back down. A moment passed. He heard the noise again. A thump. It sounded as if it were coming from outside. Gabriel slid on socks and then his boots. In two minutes he had thrown on some clothes and his insulated jacket. The ex U.S. Army Major opened the duffel bag on the floor and pulled out a nickel plated Colt .45 caliber pistol. Gabriel popped in a standard seven round clip and quietly pulled the slide back, chambering a round. Thump. He heard the noise again. He was sure it was coming from outside, possibly from the roof, and definitely from the rear of the cabin. Gabriel slowly opened the cabin door, the 34 degree air a jolt, Gabriel blinking. He suspected a large raccoon or opossum, even a bobcat, perhaps foraging for food, as these nocturnal animals were known to do. The .45 pistol he carried was in case of an encounter with a larger predatory animal, such as a black bear, many of which often ventured out of their hibernation early in search of food. Gabriel quietly descended the steps and peered up at the roof of the cabin. The wind howled through the trees as he craned his neck, looking up at the cabin roof. Seeing nothing the dark haired man slowly made his way to the left corner of the cabin. As Gabriel reached the corner he heard a loud growl and what sounded like something tearing off into the brush behind the cabin. Gabriel hustled to the back of the cabin and stopped. Something was moving away in the brush at high speed-he could make out a shadowy form moving through the tall grass, the sound of tree limbs and shrubbery snapping as the source of the sound loudly crashed through the brush. For a moment the ex Army officer felt peril, then he shook his head, deciding it surely must have been a black bear, or a cougar. John Gabriel trudged back towards the cabin door, stopping in his tracks. "Oh sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," the blonde female said, standing on the cabin's small front porch. Gabriel looked at the woman. "Who are you?" the ex Army officer asked suspiciously. "Kerren Greiss. I'm with the United States Forestry Service. I...well, my truck broke down a few miles back on the access road. I was checking the radio tower control box," she said, her arms folded across her chest. "Making your rounds. Dr. Hobbes mentioned you," Gabriel said. The blonde nodded, her alert brown eyes blinking. "You know Bill Hobbes?" she asked. "I'm one of his patients. John Gabriel, nice to meet you," Gabriel said, offering his hand. "Nice to meet you John," she said, briefly taking his hand. "I'll give you a lift to your truck...maybe we can get it cranked," Gabriel said, opening the cabin door. Thirty year old Kerren Greiss followed him inside. "Here...you look like you could use it," Gabriel said, offering the fair complexioned, brown eyed blonde the pint bottle of whiskey. "I don't have a glass," the dark haired man said ruefully, jingling his truck keys in his hand. "That's okay," Kerren Greiss said, taking a quick shot and capping the bottle. "It's usually colder up here this time of year. And little or no snow...go figure," the blonde replied. Gabriel walked outside, the blonde following him. "What's with the gun?" Kerren Greiss asked, pleasantly, but with a hint of formality in her tone. "I heard something outside and behind the cabin," Gabriel replied, opening the passenger side door of his truck. The blonde got in. Gabriel got into his truck and closed the door, turning over the truck's motor. "A noise?" the blonde Forest Service ranger repeated, frowning. "Probably a bobcat, or a bear ventured out of his winter hole in the ground," Gabriel said, looking over at the brown eyed blonde, her wheat colored blonde hair falling just past her ears. She nodded. "Could be. That's why I carry," Kerren Greiss said. Gabriel looked over as she pointed downwards at the .38 revolver and holster strapped onto her belt. "One can never be too careful," John Gabriel said, looking ahead as he drove his pickup truck down the dirt road. ..."So what do you think?" the Forestry Service ranger asked, shoving her gloved hands down inside her coat pockets as she watched the dark haired man who was leaning over the motor of her work pickup truck, a Ford F150. John Gabriel stood up, wiping his hands with a red colored rag, the headlights of his own pickup illuminating him and the blonde as they stood in the dirt road. "I can't be sure. The motor's not turning over at all. Something in the motor, maybe a cracked head," Gabriel said evenly, pushing the hood of the truck down until it locked into place. "I'm sorry," Gabriel said. "I guess I can sleep in it overnight...I can reach someone on my talkie after eight tomorrow morning. It's midnight right now. That's only eight hours," the blue-eyed blonde said. "You don't have to do that. Come back with me to the cabin. You can take the cot. I'll sleep on the floor. It's cold out here," Gabriel said clearly, the vapor of his breath hanging in the cold, 29 degree air. "I appreciate the offer John. You...wouldn't mind? Kerren Greiss asked. "No. Come on," the ex Army Green Beret said, opening the passenger side door of his pickup. The blonde got in and he closed the door. Gabriel walked to the driver side door of his pickup and stopped, looking out into the nearby field to his right, a stretch of waist high weeds and ragged shrubbery scattered throughout the field. "What is it?" Kerren asked from inside his truck. "I don't know," Gabriel said clearly, his dark eyes concentrated on the area to his right in front of the tall wood line. "John?" the blonde said, louder. "It's nothing. Mind's just playing tricks on me, that's all," Gabriel said, getting into his truck. "Did you see something?" Kerren asked, frowning. "I thought I did. Movement, in the field over there. And this feeling I'm being watched," Gabriel said, looking over at his companion. "It's easy to do out here. I know. The way things look out here at night, and the quiet. Gets kind of spooky at times," the blonde said, managing a brief grin. "I suppose," Gabriel said disinterestedly. "You seem like the kind of guy who doesn't get scared by anything," Kerren said, studying the handsome, stubbled face of the dark haired and dark eyed former Army Major. "I get scared," Gabriel said, looking over at the blonde. "Being afraid can be a good thing I think," Gabriel mused. "I think a lot of people would disagree with that," Kerren Greiss said plainly. "Maybe. It can keep you alive. Keep you fighting, that kind of thing. Spoken like a soldier, ooh rah," Gabriel muttered in sarcasm. "You were a soldier?" the blonde asked. "I used to be," Gabriel said half-heartedly. The blonde decided to drop the subject and remained silent until the pickup truck had pulled back up to the cabin. ..."Good night John," Kerren said, lying on her side on the cot, watching the dark haired ex soldier, who was standing at the cabin window. "Goodnight Kerren. I'll wake you at seven thirty just like you asked," Gabriel said quietly. "Thanks. You not going to sleep?" she asked. "Maybe in a little while. I never sleep that much anyway. I'm a night owl," Gabriel confessed. "You don't think it was a cougar or bear...do you?" Kerren asked quietly. "No," Gabriel answered. The burning embers in the wood furnace crackled, the only noise inside the cabin. "Why do you say that?" she asked, laying on the cot, propped up on her elbow. The ex Army officer sat down at the table and removed the clip from the .45 pistol. He looked over at the blonde Forestry Service ranger. "Because what I saw out there wasn't on four legs...that's why. Now go to sleep," Gabriel said easily, managing a mild grin. "Okay, okay," the blonde said, laying back down on the cot and closing her eyes. ...John Gabriel opened his dark eyes and looked around, then glanced at his watch. "It was nearly 9 AM. He cracked his neck, which brought a modicum of relief to the ache in his stiff neck, the result of sleeping for nearly seven hours at the cabin table. Gabriel walked into the cabin's small bathroom, examining the tiny shower stall. To his relief the water from both "hot" and "cold" knobs came on. He stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the stall, turning up the hot water volume. He let the water soak the back of his neck, closing his eyes. Ten minutes later the former Army officer was getting dressed, reading the short note left by his overnight visitor: "Thanks for the help last night. I'd like to come by later today and bring you dinner. Here's my cell number- 697-446-5579 -Call me later today. Kerren" Gabriel pocketed the note and finished getting dressed. He wanted to venture into the tiny neighboring town of Barrows, to pick up a few supplies. Gabriel threw on his jacket and gloves and exited the cabin. The sky was gray, a steady drizzle falling. Gabriel got into his Jeep pickup truck. He maneuvered the truck onto the dirt road, carefully avoiding some of the deeper ruts and partially washed out areas of the unpaved road. Gabriel kept one hand on the steering wheel as he drove the truck down the road, looking at the huge wall of woods on both sides of the road. Even on a gray and rainy day they looked pedestrian, Gabriel thought to himself. His thoughts were interrupted by something up ahead off to the side of the road. Gabriel frowned, his dark eyes narrowing. The veteran stopped his truck, getting out slowly and closing the truck door. He trudged over to the crumpled form on the ground and covered his mouth, stepping back. To his surprise it was a black bear carcass, a large male, weighing, he guessed, several hundred pounds. He blinked as he stared at the carcass, a horde of flies crawling all over it. The animal was torn apart, deep gashes across it's abdomen and neck. He looked closer, blinking. The bear carcass appeared to have been partially eaten, as a whole section of it's underbelly was gone. Gabriel backed away and bumped against his truck. He had a brief urge to vomit but the sensation quickly passed as he took in repeated deep breaths that were free of the bear carcass' strong stench. He looked at the woods on both sides of the road, trying to ascertain, in his mind, what indigenous creature of these woods might prey so savagely on a three hundred plus pound black bear. Gabriel got into his truck, and looked quickly to his right. Movement, in the brush, some sixty feet away. Gabriel looked hard at the spot where he'd seen the brush move. "Goddamnit I'm losing it," John Gabriel said aloud. He blared the truck horn, watching the same area of brush, but saw nothing. Gabriel withdrew a .38 Smith And Wesson revolver from the truck's glove compartment and stepped outside onto the road. He stepped forward and squeezed off a round at the brush. He jumped as a large upright figure exploded out of the dense thicket of shrubs and treelings, sixty feet away, the animal unleashing a bellowing growl of rage. Gabriel could only make out it's outline behind the trees and brush. It moved very fast, tearing into the deep woods and in the opposite direction. Gabriel fired off another round in the air. For several minutes John Gabriel stood in the dirt road, gun in hand, listening. He heard nothing more. "What in hell was that," he grumbled aloud, wide eyed and clearly distressed by what had just happened. "Too big to be another bear..." Gabriel said aloud as he got back in his truck, closing the door. He restarted his truck and accelerated away, Gabriel heading towards Route 17.
	Packmule's Pen Latitude Zero(1969) The Relic(1997)

The Thicket · Packmule's Pen