Winter Ghost

By Dave Sampson

Widower Jack Blain is picking up the remains of his life and moving to the isolated family cabin in the mountains of southern Oregon. Intent on putting his life back together following the tragic death of his wife and daughter, he finds himself in the middle of a centuries-old mystery that has haunted the region.

As gruesome discoveries surface, Jack finds himself entwined in discovering what it is that has terrorized the residents of Pine Falls for hundreds of years. In a struggle to survive and in a race to put an end to the horror, Jack finds a new purpose in his life.

Winter Ghost is a roller-coaster ride into the supernatural and depicts the solitude and beauty of the Pacific Northwest.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 3, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546246930

Dave Sampson

Dave has spent years camping, fishing and exploring the Cascade Mountains of southern Oregon with his wife, Niki. Together, they’ve enjoyed the seasons, views and recreational opportunities provided by the mountains. The inspiration for “The Other Side” comes from a few locales important to Dave and his wife. The “Pine Lake Lodge” represents an actual resort where the two met. The open field where Scott finds his cabin, serves as a winter recreation destination for snowmobilers and cross-country skiers living in the region. Enjoy “The Other Side!” If you ever find yourself in the area, take in the beauty on the drive between Medford and Klamath Falls, Oregon. Keep an eye out for a beautiful resort and The Great Meadow. You may just get the feeling you’re back in 1975.

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© 2018 Dave Sampson. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 06/18/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-4692-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-4693-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018907026

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Front cover credits to bigstock.com

CONTENTS

Preface

Chapter 1     The Cabin In The Woods

Chapter 2     Something Wrong

Chapter 3     A Gruesome Discovery

Chapter 4     Pine Falls

Chapter 5     A Night Terror

Chapter 6     Frozen With Fear

Chapter 7     A History Of Horror

Chapter 8     Face-To-Face With The Winter Ghost

Chapter 9     Vanished

Chapter 10   Searching

Chapter 11   A Frightening Find

Chapter 12   The Visit

Chapter 13   A Plan Takes Shape

Chapter 14   Strange Things

Chapter 15   When Things Go Sideways

Chapter 16   The Last Stand

Chapter 17   A New Beginning

About The Author

PREFACE

On the day of the winter solstice, ten elders from each of the three local tribes made their way to the base of the towering, snow covered mountain that loomed over their region. It had been dormant for centuries but was an important spiritual symbol for each tribe. Each year they gathered to offer gifts to the mountain, which stood watch over their native lands. The mountain was their God of protection and retribution for any who dared tread on their land. This ceremony had been practiced by their ancestors for millennia.

On this night, the tribal members held council and asked the mountain to continue to protect the tribes living on the lands covered by its shadow. This year they came to ask for more; a spirit warrior that would visit every fifth winter to watch over their peoples and cleanse the land of trespassers and enemies. They would offer a sacrificial elk on those winters it emerged, on which the Protector would feed and gain the strength it needed to deal death to those who wished to threaten their way of life.

They worshiped at the base of the mountain and performed a ceremony that night to evoke a warrior from within its depths. This warrior would be called Hi Wee-Chah’-Shah, which translates to The Mountain Man. This Mountain Man would take the form of an omnipotent ghost that would deal justice on the winds of winter storms.

As they sat around the fire, wind whipping the snow in waves of white, the thirty men preyed to the mountain to send to them its son of death. Their chants were heard and the ground began to shake. The fissures at the base of the volcanic giant glowed red and the deafening rumble of a thousand hoof beats echoed through the forest.

When the tremors and noise subsided and the glowing fissures faded, there stood in front of them a terrifying spectacle. For a moment it stared towards the group, its glowing yellow-green eyes sent both fear and a strange sense of reassurance through the soul of each tribal member. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished on a gust of wind-whipped snow. A guttural howl of pure rage loomed as it disappeared.

For generations to come, the tribes thrived and relied on The Mountain Man to protect them from all enemies, trespassers and threats to their way of life. The legend of The Mountain Man’s birth was passed down from tribal elders to children and their childrens’ children. Though the spirit warrior was never witnessed in physical form, the carnage of its wrath was evidenced by the dismemberment or sudden disappearance of foes and the occasional eviscerated carcasses on which The Mountain Man would feed.

It wasn’t until western expansion brought overwhelming numbers of Europeans seeking fortune and settlements to their lands that the tribes finally shrank and vanished from the mountains and forests of the southern Oregon Cascades.

CHAPTER 1

THE CABIN IN THE WOODS

Snow fell, adding to the three or so inches already accumulated on the narrow, winding mountain two-lane. As Jack eased up on the gas pedal, he noticed a tick-tick-tick sound coming from the engine. Great, he said aloud, and started looking for a turnout where he could safely pull over. He’d seen just one car, passing him in the opposite direction, since turning off the interstate over an hour ago. He chuckled to himself and thought, Hell, I could stop in the middle of the road and be perfectly safe.

Around two more sharp curves, Jack pulled to the side of the road. He left the engine running and opened the door to face the blowing snow and a wind chill hovering around ten degrees. He blew into his hands and lifted the hood.

It had been years since Jack had made the trip to his family’s mountain cabin high in the southern Oregon Cascades. Life had been busy and his focus on career and family had taken all of his free time. Now, on the side of the road staring at the engine compartment of his Chevy truck, he wondered what it would have been like to bring his wife and daughter here to see the mountains and play in the snow.

Of course, Jack would never know. He’d lost both his beloved Sarah and their beautiful eight year old daughter, Ashley, in a car crash six months earlier. The driver that took them away was returning home from an office party. He was way over the limit and told the first responders he never saw the car crossing in front of him, he just remembered running that red light. Twelve years of marriage, the precious life they had brought into this world and the life he had worked so hard to establish, were gone, wiped out in a fraction of a second.

Thinking it might be the fan belt, Jack closed the hood and hurried back to the warmth of the cab. He sat for a minute and wondered if he’d made the right decision to quit his job, cash in his retirement, sell the condo and move back to the mountains. His fond memories of summers spent here made the decision easier than it might have been, but he’d never wintered in the cabin. He was taking a chance. Something his responsible and reserved lifestyle had not allowed him to do for a very long time.

As he slowly pulled back onto the road, he made a mental note to buy a new fan belt at the auto parts store on his first trip to town, sometime later in the week. He had groceries, supplies and all the things he thought he’d need to get settled into the cabin, but an extra fan belt? Who packs and extra fan belt?

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The cabin was a simple structure. It was of log construction, had a kitchen, living room, bedroom and a loft above. An outhouse served as the restroom as there had never been running water or public electricity in the cabin. The metal roof provided solid protection from the elements, but the old windows were single pane and allowed a bit of chill to creep into the place.

Jacks’ grandfather had built the cabin on a forty-acre parcel of land he’d purchased back in the 50’s, before the Forest Service and Bureau of Land Management swallowed up much of the public lands.

Edward Blain, Jacks paternal grandfather, said that; A man needs a place to go. A place to get away and think about life and not be disturbed by any of the trivial things that hold him down in the monotony of day-to-day events. This cabin was designed to be such a retreat and had served the Blain family for many years. As a child, and through his late teens, Jack and his family visited the cabin every summer to enjoy all the things the mountains had to offer. Fishing in the nearby streams and the lake just a quarter mile up the winding trail to the north, was his favorite thing to do. There was the majesty of the tall pines and fir trees, which offered both shade and an all-encompassing fresh scent. They would often hike to the mountain meadows far beyond the lake, where deer and elk could be seen. As older teens, Jack and his brother, Steve, were allowed to go on two or three day backpacking trips up to Mount Pine, soaring some 10,000 feet into the crisp mountain air.

Jack enjoyed time here with his grandparents, his father, mother and brother, but there was always an edge to the visits, too. A feeling not easily put into words. There were, of course, coyotes, cougar and black bear in the area. These were seldom seen but there presence was evidenced by tracks, dens and the occasional carcass of some unfortunate animal that served as a meal for one of these predators. Clear nights offered unlimited views of the stars but with clouds in the sky, the mountain nights were eerily pitch black. Jack always felt an uneasiness on these nights, a feeling of subtle foreboding and the sense of a distant danger.

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Now, pulling up to the cabin, Jack felt the weight he’d been burdened with for six excruciating months lift, ever so slightly. Seeing the cabin for the first time in years brought back memories of happier times and, for a moment, he forgot about the hell in which he’d recently been living. It looked the same. Sturdy. Inviting. A safe refuge in what still looked to be a vast, wild, mountain wilderness.

Shortly after Edward bought the land and built his retreat, the government began regulating the land and there were no other privately owned sections of land anywhere near the Blain plot. The nearest residence was almost ten miles away, but had been standing empty since the last summer Jack and his family visited the cabin.

As the sun began to dim in the winter sky, Jack got out of the truck and walked back to the canopy-covered bed to start unloading the gear he’d brought, for what was now going to be his new home. Snow crunched under his feet as he hauled provisions, a generator, jerry cans full of gas, and boxes full of tools and supplies to the covered front porch.

Jacks brother, Steve, had mailed the key to the front door nearly two weeks ago. When Steve heard of Jacks plan to quit his job and leave the shambles of his life in Portland behind, he was initially worried that maybe his brother had finally snapped. After two long, reassuring phone conversations with Jack, Steve was finally convinced his brother was still mentally sound and even thought the move to the quiet peacefulness of the cabin might do him some good.

Jack fumbled and found the key, inserted it into the deadbolt and turned. With a little resistance, he heard a solid click and the front door swung inward. Jack stepped across the threshold and reached for the wall, hand searching for the light switch. Nothing. A small grin graced Jacks’ face as he thought to himself, What an idiot. There, of course, was no power here.

In the dimly lit cabin, Jack found the wall mounted candle lanterns and, after searching a few of the kitchen drawers, located some old wooden matches and lit four lanterns in the entry and kitchen areas. The place was wired for a generator and Jack figured his first order of business come morning would be getting the generator gassed up and running.

To scare away the chill, Jack brought in some old firewood from the wood box on the front porch and started a fire in the river rock fireplace his grandfather had built by hand, so many years ago. Within half an hour, the cabin was warm and the supplies piled on the front porch had been moved inside, waiting to find a more permanent place amongst the shelves, closets and cupboard throughout the humble shelter.

The old cabin was a little musty from years of sitting unused, but seemed to be in good repair. Jack toured the small structure, each room, each corner and window bringing back happy memories of his summers spent here, so long ago.

After the long drive from Portland to the mountains of southern Oregon, Jack was tired. A sandwich from the cooler and a cold Corona would serve as dinner for tonight. After eating, Jack unrolled his sleeping bag on the bed, and for the first night since he lost his family, he slept. No nightmares. No waking with chills and shakes. Just sound, peaceful sleep.

CHAPTER 2

SOMETHING WRONG

Though sitting at his desk at Skyward, a busy architectural firm in downtown Portland, for several years had made Jack a little soft, he was still a formidable man in good health. At six feet, four inches tall and weighing two hundred and forty pounds, Jack commanded respect wherever he went. In happier times, he was often referred to as a gentle giant, but since the accident his mood had become a bit more edgy. Friends noticed a harder, less sociable side to Jack and they worried his loss may have changed his disposition forever.

Jack noticed these changes in himself as well, and they played a part in his decision to