The God in the Hills

By Jon Steffens

During summer, the little Ozark town of Hotspur, Arkansas becomes a hotbed of tourists looking to trade the stress of city life for outdoor adventure. There's only one problem; something horrible is haunting the mountainous terrain surrounding the Buffalo River. Something foul and malevolent, its appetites are so vile, that death is the least of

• Language: English
• Publisher: Filthy Loot
• Release date: May 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781087961866

Book preview

1

Hotspur was busy this time of year. Most of the time, the tiny town nestled in the sprawling, mountainous wilderness of the north Arkansas Ozarks was home to fewer than 500 people, but during the summer, Hotspur was a tourist-laden wonderland for rock climbers, river rafters and campers. The heavily forested mountains surrounding the normally sleepy small town are dotted with cabins, each filled with vacationing families or groups of friends searching for of a bit of adventure. The Buffalo River would soon be crowded with kayaks, rafts and swimming bodies. As a watering hole and the only place for miles to stock up on supplies, Hotspur’s town square was the heart of summertime activity. Tonight, a good chunk of the town’s residents and about 80 tourists filled the Hilljack Haven, the town’s only bar, beyond capacity.

Keri was one of the out-of-towners crammed into the spacious sports bar/grill/country music venue. despite her tan, athletic build, long, sun-bleached blonde hair, and a face befitting a swimsuit model, the overworked bartenders weren’t in much of a hurry to pour her a second vodka-soda. There were just too many people in here, and she still had three pushy, sweaty bodies awaiting their adult beverages in front of her.

Annoyed, Keri scanned the place, desperate to catch the eye of a sympathetic waitress. Bright neon signs advertising Pabst, Budweiser, Coors, and at least three other beers served to illuminate a sea of thirsty people. Though fully staffed, the Haven was the busiest it had been in years, and Keri would have to wait for her drink.

She was thinking about how her friends from Dallas couldn’t get to town fast enough when out of the corner of her eye, Keri spied a tall older man with a smile plastered to his face walk toward her with two cocktails. With his thick, salt-and-pepper hair, neatly-trimmed beard, and good (for his age, she thought) build, he definitely had a slick charm and slightly cocky swagger about him, and that made her wary immediately.

I think I’ve got just what you need, darlin’. the man boomed over the crowd in a baritone voice with a noticeable Southern drawl. George Strait’s Marina del Rey was blaring through the sound system at a volume that would be entirely too loud if alcohol wasn’t involved.

Not a chance, she said. I don’t know you, and I don’t take drinks from strangers.

"Well, city girl, I’m Dale Bellflower. I’m what you might call Hotspur’s