The Man in the Woods

By Buster CJ Berg

K evin Phizer, an adolescent drug addict, convinces his two closest friends, Amanda and Richard, to join him on a camping trip to the woods of Eswell. The trip, which according to Kevin is meant to be a journey of self-reflection, quickly turns out to be something else entirely. Unbeknownst to Amanda and Richard, a fourth camper is expected to join them—someone known only to Kevin as the man in the woods. As the night turns darker and colder, it slowly becomes apparent that the man in the woods is preparing a deadly ploy of his own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jan 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781728383507

Buster CJ Berg

Buster CJ Berg is a Finnish writer with a background in film and television. Berg began by writing and illustrating comics in his early childhood, only to eventually pursue a career in media production. For most of his life, Berg has been obsessed with a need to explore the more macabre and sinister aspects of storytelling and character.

Book preview

The

Man

in the

Woods

BUSTER CJ BERG

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AuthorHouse™ UK

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403 USA

www.authorhouse.co.uk

Phone: [phone]

© 2019 Buster Cj Berg. 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 01/11/2019

ISBN: 978-1-7283-8351-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-8352-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-8350-7 (e)

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.

Contents

Chapter 1 Problems

Chapter 2 Solution

Chapter 3 Preparations

Chapter 4 Traveling

Chapter 5 Camping

Chapter 6 Heist

Chapter 7 Choice

Chapter 8 Cold

Chapter 9 Colder

Chapter 10 Freeze

About the Author

The greatest lie Milo Schenkin ever pulled off was to convince people he was a bad liar. That alone was the most powerful tool, Milo eventually learned, to climb in society. Learn that, Milo, he had told himself. Learn that and they will bow to you. Learn that and you’ll be able to play them like puppets, play them like the world has played you. Learn that and you too can watch them endure, suffer, bleed, and freeze like you have. Learn that and you can become the ‘man in the woods’—the man in the woods you want to be, not the one the world has made you out to be. Only then will they truly know your exasperation.

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The following events took place between October 21 and November 3, 2007, in and around the towns of Hallstead and Eswell, both parts of the Independent Republic of Hillside.

Chapter I

Problems

K evin Phizer looked down at the smirking D-minus on his paper. It was a test that, unlike most times, he truly had studied for and worked hard on. He flung back his greasy black hair and grabbed it with his thin pale fingers. While tying the smelly excuse of a ’do into a knot, he turned to Richard Mallick, who was sitting between him and Mallick’s girlfriend, Amanda Alton. Kevin pouted his thick lips as he glanced at Mallick’s paper. A ridiculing B-plus was looking back at him, almost as if flipping him off. Kevin, who’d not eaten since the night before, was starving, more so than usual. Therefore, everything that provoked him even the slightest felt like mockery.

You fucking nerd, Mallick. You just had to lie, Kevin said.

What? Mallick asked, as if he didn’t know what Kevin was talking about.

Kevin crushed his test in his fist as he stared into Mallick’s eyes, trying to frighten his friend like he sometimes did. You said you didn’t study, he finally hissed.

Mallick simply chuckled while neatly folding the paper in front of him. I didn’t, Kev, he answered, placing the test in his bag. Not everyone’s a fucking idiot, like you. This is philosophy. You don’t have to study; you just need to think a little.

Kevin ground his teeth as his eyes wandered over to Amanda. You tell me honestly, he said, looking at the A paper sitting neatly beneath her tiny nose. "Did this nerd study or not? Amanda shook her head, clearly with no interest in responding to Kevin, perhaps not even listening. Amanda? Admit it—you two geeks have taken turns blowing each other, while the other one drooled all over Hensley’s fucking notes—"

Kevin! the teacher, Mr. Hensley, shouted. Kevin had not noticed Hensley had commenced his class. You have something you want to share?

Kevin looked around the classroom. The other nerds looked fairly pleased with whatever grades had been placed before them.

Fucking geeks Kevin thought.

You passed, Kevin, Mr. Hensley said, stacking the tests of students who weren’t present. You passed this one—barely. Now shut your mouth, and pay attention if you want to do better on the next one.

Kevin almost felt pain in his palm as he knit his fist, further crushing and wrinkling the test he so wholeheartedly loathed. He had many things in mind—many things he could’ve shouted at Mr. Hensley, funny things even; things that would’ve made most of his classmates burst into laughter. But Kevin Phizer chose to keep his mouth shut for once.

Today we are going to … And so the voice of the tundra-gray-sweater–wearing, scrawny philosophy teacher faded away in Kevin’s mind. He instantly turned his attention back to Mallick and Amanda. So what are you assholes doing later?

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It had been only a few months since the breaking news of a shooting at Virginia Tech University, devastated the United States and the rest of the world, including Hillside. Kevin paid attention to every detail the media put out. He quoted and shared whatever he found interesting with Mallick and Amanda. Kevin had neither a newspaper subscription nor a computer of his own, but one could simply look around, and sooner or later a headline would be slapped across one’s face—Gunman Kills 32 in Deadliest School Shooting in US History! When Will This End? It was yet another reminder that no one was safe, not even in school. The article advised, Keep your eyes open, alert any suspicious behavior, and most of all, talk to each other; listen to each other.

The lunch break that Friday was no different. As Amanda and Mallick patiently waited for their plates to be filled with baked potatoes and what the school referred to as squid fries, Kevin once again went on about the gunman, Seung-Hui Cho. The line was long, and it would be at least another five to ten minutes before they got their food on their worn-out, beige plastic plates. Wonder what would happen if I did it, Kevin said, here!

Mallick and Amanda, who had not been paying much attention to Kevin, turned their heads when they realized what he’d said. Kevin, what? Mallick whispered through his big teeth. Mallick looked like a young, slightly less handsome Tom Cruise when he smiled a certain way.

No, not that I would do it, pussy-face. Just wondering what people would do, Kevin said, looking around the cafeteria. Several days earlier, Kevin had pointed out that the school cafeteria looked very much like the one at Virginia Tech, at least based on the security camera footage he had seen. Kevin could not get enough of the footage of the students being shot and bombed to death, one by one, by the murderer.

Mallick grabbed the sleeve of Kevin’s red leather jacket, which again let out an awkward squeak. Don’t talk about that shit in school, you fucking nimrod! Not another word about shootings! A heavy girl, Gwen, seemed to have overheard the conversation as she waited for her own lunch. Gwen looked genuinely frightened that Kevin might be packing under his leather jacket.

Calm down. I’m just saying, Kevin said, trying to explain. It’s just that we see these clowns doing the same thing every day. Everyone’s dreaming, hoping, and wondering what their lives might look like after this prison of adolescence, never even thinking about the fact that this, too, is life. That this, too, is something one has to survive. Some of the kids at Virginia Tech didn’t survive this shit. They dropped dead while waiting for what we call … life.

Mallick and Amanda kept their eyes on Kevin while Gwen seemed to grow impatient that the rest of the line had moved ahead significantly, and they had not. "Could you guys please move along? I’m hungry," Gwen said.

"Cool your nuggies, Shrek, Kevin snapped, shutting down the fat girl without hesitating for a second. Gwen’s face immediately turned as pale as a ghost. She looked like she was about to either cry or faint. Gwen simply left the line. Shrek" did not eat lunch that day. She locked herself in one of the stalls of the girls’ bathroom and cried.

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Kevin quickly finished his plate. He loved squid fries and baked potatoes. The guy who invented these must’ve been a goddamn genius, he stated, pointing at Mallick’s plate, which still held several fries.

Amanda, on the other hand, was only eating salad. She almost never ate the carbs and protein that came out of the school kitchen. People would call her anorexic or bulimic or more innovative names like "Blank Somalia." The nicknames would go on forever, but still, Amanda Alton was easily one of the most popular girls at Hallstead High. Now, Amanda kept her eyes on the swing set on the front lawn of the preschool across the street. She appeared to intentionally hide behind her red hair to avoid being part of the school shooting conversation.

I’m not going to shoot this place up, guys, Kevin said, his dark-brown eyes jumping back and forth between Amanda and Mallick. "I was simply stating a fact: People forget to live when they’re stuck between these classes and courses. People—us, we—do the same things every day. We take classes we don’t want, learn shit we don’t need, look up to assholes we fucking hate, and kiss as much ass as fucking possible. All with the hope it somehow gets us into the next asylum—"

Enough, Kev, Mallick interrupted, lowering his fork, which still held the edge of an oil-dripping fry. I know! I know there are loads of classes we—you, more than anyone here—think are absolute shit, an absolute waste of time. But this is how it works. You want to get somewhere nice—somewhere worth dreaming of, worth fighting for—you need to go through the garbage first, all right? I don’t like Hensley. I fucking hate philly class. It’s awful! The worst! But the score I got on that test gets me one tiny step closer to Ridgetown University. It’s just enough to make it worth reading about Plato and all those other dead jerks.

Kevin leaned back in his plastic cafeteria chair, making the squeaky noise of his jacket even more unbearable. He pouted his lips, the way he tended to do, and didn’t say anything. Instead, he got stuck thinking about what Mallick had just said—get somewhere in life. It was something Kevin could not see happening, not for him.

You haven’t even thought about what you want to do after this, have you? Mallick asked, waving his arms across the table and accidentally hitting Amanda on her round pebble of a chin.

Ow! Asshole!

Shit, sorry, Danda! Mallick’s cheeks flushed, as he looked around, embarrassed.

Kevin smirked, amused that Amanda most likely was frustrated with him but had found a reason to take it out on her boyfriend. Kevin often could not comprehend why Amanda had picked a guy like Mallick. The only reasonable explanation for it, he thought, was that every other Hallstead guy their age was … well, a Hallstead guy.

This city does weird shit to people.

Well? Have you?

Kevin dropped his fork and knife on the plastic plate in front of him and leaned over the table, letting his jacket again sing its awful squeaky tune. "Have I what?"

Have you thought about what you want to do after high school, Kev? Not to mention, you know, when you grow up?

Kevin didn’t respond. There was no point. If he answered that question, he’d probably end up having to answer other questions—questions about his life, subjects he’d rather leave untouched altogether. Instead, he kept pouting his lips and looked around the cafeteria. With cold, almost soulless eyes, he gazed over the chattering, laughing, shouting students of Hallstead High before turning back to Mallick. "Of course I have, he said with a smirk. I want to be an astronaut movie star at the Hollywood space station, dick-hole." Kevin had no clue what he wanted to do with his life. His future had been doomed for years.

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Regardless of what they’d discussed earlier that day, Kevin Phizer already had disappeared. The trio had agreed to meet by the roundabout beneath the four old oak trees outside the school, but typically, Kevin did not keep his word.

Amanda held firmly onto her boyfriend as she saw her bus, Line 52, approaching on the other side of the roundabout. You’ll come over later, right? Amanda asked.

I will. Promise. You just get your stuff with Clay sorted, and call me when it’s all done. All right?

Amanda nodded, rubbing her chin onto the furry collar of Mallick’s thick fishing coat. Mallick gripped his girlfriend tighter—the goddess of Hallstead High—and gave her a light smooch on the neck before they briefly made out. A group of sophomore boys walked by. Although they were in the grade below Mallick, Amanda, and Kevin, they were bold enough to whisper, "Fag," as they passed the couple. Mallick decided to ignore them.

At that point, Line 92, Mallick’s bus, pulled up to the bus stop, exhaling its exhaust before sliding the rusty doors open.

Love you, Rick, Amanda whispered, as Mallick hopped on the bus.

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Richard Rick Mallick was nothing like Kevin Phizer. Since age twelve, he had known that his future was going to be in investment banking. It might have been a dull thought to most other seventeen-year-olds but not for Mallick. He loved the image he believed would come with it. Mallick, known as Rick to his teachers, his girlfriend, and those not close enough to him to call him by his surname, was what