Showdown With Demons

By M. K. Theodoratus

Once Crossings was a tranquil town nestled in the foothills of the Sierras—a place Ebe Brown thought was a paradise. His peaceful life is shattered when strangers appear to raise guard dogs.

A group of dog farmers led by a brawny trainer, Rabler, takes up residence and establishes a questionable business raising guard dogs. Sinister events begin to occur almost immediately after their arrival. Ebe Brown, a lifelong resident, suspects Rabler and his henchmen are not what they seem to be on the surface. When Ebe’s dog disappears, he confronts the outsiders and his suspicions deepen, but local law enforcement turns a blind eye on the dog-farmers’ menacing behavior and their disturbing presence. The townsfolk are alone in their fight.

Ebe reaches out to the old leader of the magic working hill folk for help. Nance, a tough as nails herb woman, is determined to set things right again, one way or another. Unfortunately, Rabler and his crew have other plans. Their threats fail when Nance refuses to back down, and all hell breaks loose. When Nance is killed, Ebe is filled with remorse for failing to save her.

This suspense-filled novella reaches a cataclysmic end when Ebe fights to save his self-respect and the people of Crossings.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M. K. Theodoratus
• Release date: Aug 23, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311337412

M. K. Theodoratus

"Fantasy is a wonderful way to run away from the mundane,” sez me. Others say, "M.K. Theodoratus is a captivating storyteller who prefers the power of short stories. Theodoratus has been in love with fantasy since first discovering the Oz books as a child. She has never stopped delving into the fantasy worlds of other writers. She became inflicted with an addiction to story and writing after creating a Nancy Drew fan fiction novel for a school assignment. Her incomplete assignment turned into her first novel the summer after the sixth grade. Now, Theodoratus has created the worlds of Andor and Far Isles Half-Elven for readers to get lost in. Andor is populated with stalking demons, always hunting for unsuspecting humans to prey on and terrorize, and magic. The Far Isle Half-Elven is a society in upheaval as genetic drift of the hybrid human-elf population changes everything from relationships to politics. Check out her short stories about Andor and the Far Isles, some of them free. M.K. Theodoratus loves connecting with fans. Check out her author hub for news and snippets of upcoming work at http://www.mktheodoratus.com. You can read and comment on her blog, find her on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Google+.

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Showdown With Demons

By

M. K. Theodoratus

Copyright © 2014, M. K. Theodoratus

Smashwords Edition

All Rights Reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author, except for use in reviews or critical analysis.

Crossings is entirely a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is purely coincidental.

For more information about M. K. Theodoratus’ fiction, visit http://www.mktheodoratus.com or read the comments at the end of this novella.

Ebe Brown grew up thinking his home a paradise on earth. But that was before the king built the great freeway some hundred miles to the south of Crossings, a small town tucked into the Sierra foothills and forgotten after the Gold Rush of the last century. Ebe had loved his hometown’s isolation and slow, flowing days.

Back then, only the bravest tourists attempted to drive the twisting county roads up to Crossings and fish its streams. Most still turned back south along the district’s Mother Lode Highway to visit scenery easier to see. Yet the tree lined, district road and absence of mine tailings drew adventurous travelers to the crossroad town.

But that life had vanished.

The new freeway brought outsiders from the Central Valley to the foothills town in greater numbers. Strangers who stayed and built vacation homes among the pines and along the streambeds. None were so weird, in Ebe’s book, as the odd newcomers who bought the valley field his family had sold when he was a boy. The cretins had destroyed his former neighbor’s cattle pastures to raise vicious guard dogs for city slickers.

Or, so they say, thought Ebe. Something’s not right there.

The strangers badgered anyone who came within spitting distance of their fences. Set their dogs on local fishermen who dared to fish on the king’s side near their boundaries. Took guns to the tourists taking pictures of the scenery. The dog-men even beat up a local rancher who had stopped to change a tire, claiming he had trespassed on their land and upset their dogs. The rancher swore to the deputy sheriff he’d parked on the king’s side of the road.

If a local tried to complain, the newcomers claimed they had friends in Trebridge, the district capital. The way the sheriff in the county seat, road crews and forest management people cowered when the scum growled made Ebe think their claims true.

But Ebe had had his own experience with the scum, but he didn’t talk about it. Just chewed on it like a piece of gristle.

At first, Ebe hadn’t thought much about the men camping down in the valley after the land sold again. Soon the newcomers were building a cluster of homes and doghouses on the hillsides well above the flood plain of Lazy Man Creek. No dog runs. Just poles stuck in the ground to keep the dogs contained. Ebe thought it funny they built on the north-facing hill where the sun didn’t shine, but he refrained from calling them stupid like some locals did.

Ignoring the bustle, Ebe kept to his placid pattern. His morning chores put food on his table. In the afternoons, he napped, whittled fancy canes for a friend’s tourist trap while listening to the breeze in the oaks and sugar pines at the back of his cabin, and visited his friends. He spent evenings reading. Ebe lived each day much like the last, except for the fall mistletoe harvest that boosted his cash income.

Then, Dipper, his mixed-breed, long-legged hound, disappeared.

Expecting a neighborly hand in finding him, Ebe drove to the dog compound. The hill, lined with rows of miserable dogs tethered with chains to poles by their doghouses, shocked him. He’d always let Dipper roam as he pleased. The operations center looked more like an army barracks than a hamlet with its gravel paths and lack of plants except for a scattering of manzanita trees. A roof covered the quad between the barracks, creating a huge, flagstoned patio. Ebe’s memory of standing in the shade, hat in gnarled hand, in front of a gauntlet of moon-shaped-faces and gimlet stares haunted him.

Hi, there, he’d said, taking a deep breath. He almost coughed at the fetid smell surrounding them, but stopped himself in time. Name’s Ebe Brown. Live up on the hill across the road from your place. My dog’s gone missing, and I was wondering if any of you have seen sign of him. Looks sort like a black, curly-haired German Shepherd-type dog.

Sounds like a mutt to me, runt. The bruiser in front of the group smirked at Ebe until the old man felt even shorter than usual. You sure you want him back?

Laughter greeted the sally, and Ebe surveyed the newcomers as a couple more men came out of the barracks. A chill spilled down his back. While some were taller than others, the men looked as if a cookie cutter made them, huge torsos balanced on bent short legs with faces as round as the moon and wide slits for mouths. Their noses weren’t much more than a slit either. An image of a frog leapt into Ebe’s mind.

Wouldn’t be surprised if their tongue flicked out when a fly flew by.

The newcomer