Miller's Woods

By Mike Ramon

A novelette.

The year is 1968, and the town of Cedar Falls is plagued by rumors of a monster stalking Miller's Woods. Officer Joe Frampton will soon learn there are all kinds of monsters. The question is, what will he do about the one that he's found?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Ramon
• Release date: Mar 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005477356

Mike Ramon

Born and bred in the Midwest.

Book preview

MILLER’S WOODS

Mike Ramon

Smashwords Edition

© 2020 M. Ramon

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When the call came over the radio, Officer Joe Frampton was sitting in his 1964 Chevrolet Bel Air, the vehicle painted regulation black and white, chowing down on a Big Slammer from the Burger Shanty on Rt. 60. A half-pound of Choice American beef, with two slices of white cheddar (one on top of the patty, one on the bottom), two thick tomato slices, leaf lettuce, pickles, big red onions, ketchup, and spicy mustard. And, of course, you couldn’t have a Big Slammer without an order of steak fries (with a little bit of skin still on them). A heart attack in a bag, that’s what Sue called it, but if she knew that Joe was stuffing his gob like this he wouldn’t need to worry about his heart seizing up; Sue would knock his head right off his shoulders. And what if she knew that he was washing it all down with a large vanilla milkshake? Best not to think about it.

He was barely halfway finished with the burger when the radio came to life, and Wanda’s voice came crackling out of it.

Closest available unit…ten-fifty…near Highway Forty-four…

Ah, crap; what now? Joe said around a mouthful of burger.

He grabbed the mike, depressing the button on the side.

Ten-one, Station; do not copy. This is Unit Four. Come again.

"What’s your ten-twenty, Joe?

I’m sitting in the parking lot of the old ironworks and trying to eat my damn lunch.

Perfect…closer than any…else. Get your pale behind out to Highway Forty-four, near the Westgate exit. There’s been a ten-fifty out that way. Ambulance is…the way.

He didn’t catch it all, but he caught enough. There’d been an accident on Highway 44, an ambulance was already en route, and a police unit had been requested.

Double crap, Joe thought. Into the mike, he said:

Ten-four, Station. On my way. Unit Four out.

Joe looked longingly at what remained of his burger before folding the wrapper over it and replacing it in the grease-spotted bag, sliding it down carefully next to the paper sleeve still half-filled with fries, and then folded over the top of the bag and placed it on the passenger seat. He took one last drink of milkshake and set it in the cupholder. The Bel Air’s engine rumbled to life, and Joe pulled out of the lot of the ironworks that had been closed for three years.

It took him all of twelve minutes to get there, and he pulled his cruiser to the side of the road, parking behind a Juniper County Sheriff’s Department vehicle. Joe shut the engine off and got out of the Bel Air as a short fellow in tan Sheriff’s Department duds came over to welcome him to the party. Joe had always been envious of the uniforms the SD boys wore, hating the seaweed-green uniforms of the CFPD. (This was something he would never admit to one of the SD boys, of course.)

It’s about time one of you townies showed up, the deputy said.

Joe checked the man’s name nametag: Hinton.

And it’s a good thing, too, Deputy Hinton, Joe said amiably. Someone competent needs to take over for you county boys before you screw the pooch.

Yeah, yeah.

From where they stood Joe could see a couple of paramedics working on someone at the side of the road. He saw the person’s feet, one