Splitter

By D.T Burroughs

It's been three years since the attack on the logging camp by an unknown creature; the Snag. In all that time, young Zack hasn't been idle, and has been working diligently with his boss, Mat, to take the company in a more profitable and safer direction. All his hard work will soon pay off, as they begin their final season before the conversion.

Unfortunately, their work site is uncomfortably close to where the attacks took place, and everyone is understandably on edge. Things get even more tense for Zack when he discovers that one of his old buddies has just been hired, and Zack is forced to confront old temptations.

Meanwhile, two governmental agents follow strange happenings in the countryside communities that call the edge of the forest their home. Something ancient has prowled these dark woods for millennia, and for the first time in thousands of years, there's something new.

"With a tranquil satisfaction, the living nightmare closed its eyes and raised its nose to the wind. Pulling the cool night air through its nostrils, it let out a long, satisfied sigh of content. As its lips peeled back into a tight, sadistic smile, it revealed a mouth full of serrated, triangular teeth. The long, black hair atop its head came to life as two long tentacles, the color of ink, stirred beneath them. Sporadically placed along the length of the inky black arms were smaller tentacles that ended in a boneless point. The arms atop its head gathered up its hair, wrapping the mess into neat braids. The boneless arms pulled the braids back and away from its face as the preternatural creature lowered its head to feed."

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9781667815794

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© 2021 D.T Burroughs

ISBN: 978-1-66-781579-4

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Table of Contents

One: Long Dark Roads

Two, Part 1: Old Stomping Grounds

Two, Part 2: Lost And Found

Two, Part 3: Home Invasion

Three, Part 1: Cerberus

Three, Part 2: A Terrible Thing To Waist

Three, Part 3: Rituals

Four, Part 1: With Friends Like These

Four, Part 2: Self Service

Four, Part 3: The Best-Laid Plans

Five, Part 1: Who Needs Enemies

Five, Part 2: When God Closes A Door

Five, Part 3: Ancient Ghosts

Six, Part 1: A Wise Man Said

Six, Part 2: Scar Tissue

Six, Part 3: The Pursuit Of Knowledge

Seven: Pride Before The Fall

Eight: Scraping Rock Bottom

Nine: Red Lips

Ten: Kidnapped

Eleven: Under The Microscope

Twelve, Part 1: Escape

Twelve, Part 2: K.I.S.S.I.N.G

Twelve, Part 3: Search And Rescue

Thirteen: Subjective Luck

Fourteen: Agonistic Behavior

Fifteen: A Look Behind The Curtain

Epilog:

One: Long Dark Roads

The road at midnight, like a snake, serpentined through a sea of pines, as a single light traveled down its coils.

A lonely, black sedan wound down the dark, twisted ways. Agent Joanas yawned as he drove the twisting mountain roads, made tired by the long drive and the late hour, but kept focused as the trees blurred by.

His partner, Agent Jenkins, sat beside him sleeping in the passenger seat, head rolling and mouth open, until a large bump made the car jump, jostling him somewhat awake.

As he stirred, he mumbled, Mmph… You still good to drive? he said with a wide stretch and a yawn.

Joanas nodded. Oh yeah, I’ve got laser focus. I grew up on hills like this. It’s nothing.

Jenkins drew in a deep breath, stretched again and yawned wider, rubbing his neck and blinking the sleep away. You’re from around here? he asked as he sat up straighter.

A little farther south; mid Oregon. My dad would take me hunting growing up, and he whipped down these things like a mad man. No seat belt either, crazy bastard. I should stop by and say hello, if we’ve got time. Been too long since I’ve been home.

Jenkins took out their case folder and flipped through it. "I hope we’ve got time too. Means we can get done with whatever this is," he said, waving the folder.

Joanas nodded. Yeah. You know, people go missing out here for all kinds of reasons. They get turned around, could be an animal attack, lost in the snow, whatever. Sometimes it’s just some crazy guy in the woods with a gun.

No way. That kind of stuff only happens in movies.

No man, Joanas said as he rubbed his left temple, elbow resting on his window’s edge, it happened to some family of mine. He pulled over to take a picture of a deer and just so happened to be near some crazy guy’s cabin. He’d built in the backwoods illegally. Guy shot him dead, no hesitation. His wife was in the car and saw him go down. She took off and got the police.

Jenkins shook his head. She just left him?

Joanas grunted noncommittally. Well, he went down in one shot, and she panicked. He inhaled and let it out slow. He got hit in the heart, so there was nothing she could have done.

Jenkins was quiet a moment. Did they get the guy?

Oh, yeah. Super fast. Of course, he had a record. Dozens of assaults, breaking and entering, theft, Illegal possession of firearms. He shouldn’t have been out in the world.

The car was quiet for a short while before Jenkins spoke again. Damn. He rubbed his eyes again. Do you think that’s what’s causing all the disappearances?

Joanas shook his head as he slowed around a particularly tight turn. Couldn’t say. It’s definitely strange, though. Having such a tight cluster of disappearances so far out from the city, and such a wide range of backgrounds. Doctors, hippies, hunters; men, women, kids, he said as he rubbed his chin in thought.

Jenkins leaned his chair back a little and smiled. Ah, the city. I’m glad they put me with you on this one. I have exactly zero experience out here. He took a look out the window at the dark forest that whizzed past. Ask me to find a killer in a population of a few million, all packed in together, no problem. Tell me to start a fire with two sticks, I’ll fucking die. He then turned forward and gestured out the windshield. "And God, can this road be any more ‘serial killer’?"

What do you mean? Joanas asked, not taking his eyes off the narrow road.

Are you kidding? Dark road. Late at night. Middle of nowhere. Missing people. He waved his hand at the window again. If I see a half man, half goat with a bloody axe, I’m gonna shoot first and worry about the paperwork later. He scooched up in his seat and became more animated. Like, ok. You’ve met Hirayama, right?

"Of course. He was a veteran when I started. Dude’s been in forever."

I was talking with him the other day.

Oh yeah? How’s he doing?

"Fine, he’s with his family. He was actually supposed to be here instead of me, but that’s a whole other thing. Point is, he said that everything is lit up over there. Like, everywhere. Some crazy, out of the way, off the beaten path mountain road? Lights, baby. Lights all the way. Why the hell can’t we have that here? Greatest country on earth? And no lights? Jenkins shook his head incredulously. Makes places like this spooky as all hell."

Joanas chuckled, musing.

What?

You know what would make this even worse? Joanas said, grinning.

No. What?

Fog.

"Oh go fuck yourself! Jenkins exclaimed. Fucking fog… Fuck you. And that goes double for fog! He folded his arms in mock anger and said, Watch, now that you’ve said something we’ll turn a corner and boom, we’ll hit a wall of it."

Joanas laughed and continued driving. The road turned upward and around a bend. Sure enough, as though it had been summoned from the aether, their car was beset by a thick and swirling mist. The gaseous vapors hung in the air with such density that not even their high beams could penetrate its murk.

Jenkins shifted uncomfortably in his seat. What did I fucking tell you? He gestured out the window once more with an agitated flourish. I swear if you say anything about a flat tire, I’m locking myself in the trunk until morning. Nothing bad ever happens in the trunk.

Joanas laughed at his partner. You sure about that, Mr. ‘Find A Killer’?

Oh shut up! This is your fault… You did this on purpose, he said with a scowl, "I mean it… This is going on my report. I’ll have them slap you with obstruction, asshole."

Joanas continued laughing for a few moments more. Once he calmed down he casually said, Relax, man. It’s cold, we’re high up, it’s just a few low laying clouds. As soon as we descend we’ll get out of the fog and back into the midnight forest.

Jenkins sneered and drew out a sarcastic, "Thanks. I feel so much better now."

Joanas chuckled again. Hey, man, I’ve hiked through the woods at night. One of the scariest things I’ve ever done, but if you keep your ears open and your guard up, there’s nothing in the world that can sneak up on yo- OH SHIT!

Suddenly, a deer slammed down onto the car, seemingly out of nowhere. The torso smashed the windshield and rolled off the roof of the car as they screeched to a stop, inches from the horribly steep cliff off the side of the road. Their car left a smoking, black trail of skid marks serpentining along the road; a testament to the accident.

Both agents were dazed and breathing heavily as they checked themselves over, and then looked at each other, horrified. Joanas, having hit his chest against the steering wheel, had the wind knocked out of him, but managed to gasp, You… Ok?

Jenkins had a serious bruise on the side of his head where it hit the side window. He groaned in pain and felt the swelling on his temple. Yeah… Yeah, I’m good. I think… He shook himself slightly and said, I don’t think anything’s broken… You?

I think… I’m ok. Joanas rubbed his chest. He felt the beginnings of a large, deep bruise, but he was able to wheeze … The fuck… Just… happened?

Jenkins pushed his door open and stumble-stepped out of the vehicle. I think… It was a deer, maybe? You said you were used to this shit! He looked over the car at his partner, now out of the vehicle himself. We weren’t even going that fast… How the hell did you hit a deer? His voice was raised and shaky.

Joanas slammed his door shut in frustration. I didn’t, he said as he rubbed his chest and leaned against the car for support, still breathing hard, I think it jumped into us… See? Jackass. He gestured at the shattered front window. It had remained mostly in one piece, though it was now a concave collage of splintered and spidered glass.

He looked at their grim companion lying motionless in the road behind their car, then looked at their windshield. Still trying to get his breath back he said, The front is fine… If it had been in the road… And we hit it head on… We would’ve been… better off. He then walked to the front of the car and began to examine the hood. That’s why the airbags didn’t deploy. Satisfied with his investigation of the hood, he went to the back. As he began to look over the body of the deer, he thought out loud, But… How the hell… He trailed off as he looked up into the pitch black canopy.

Jenkins didn’t catch the implication. "Well excuse, fucking, me for being a little pissed off about living my actual fucking nightmare. His words seethed from him as he spoke. Fuck this smarts! he said as he gripped his head, pressing down as he continued his griping, trying to ease what was sure to be a spectacular bruise and goose egg. Out in the Boondocks; at night. He breathed out, frustrated. I should never have left the airport."

As Joanas knelt near the battered corpse, the tail lights of the car plunged the tendrils of mist into a luminous and eerie red. Feeling uneasy, he drew his gun, ready to put the poor thing out of its misery if he had to. He nudged it with his foot, but there was no movement. It was thoroughly dead. He got closer and looked at the body with a practiced eye. Uh… Jenkins? he said. The tone of his voice was low. Cautionary. Unmistakably alert.

Jenkins was still by the car, kicking the back tire with his shiny black dress shoes, now slightly scuffed and dirty. I could be sipping a latte, reading a spy novel, or hitting on a cute barista, he muttered, wrapped in his own complaints, but no. ‘Go into the woods’, they said. ‘It’ll be fine’ they said. He walked up to the front tire and began kicking that one as well, moving further out of earshot from Joanas. ‘They’ll have coverage out there’ they said. Fucking horse shit, and garbage lies.

"Hey!" Joanas raised his voice, panic rising in his throat as he stood up. Hey, Kevin! he hissed a bit louder.

The bark seemed to snap him out of his tantrum, and Jenkins responded as loudly in kind. Yeah, WHAT?

Joanas stared at the carcass again and started backing away, gun firmly in hand, finger near the trigger. I don’t think this deer jumped onto the road.

Jenkins walked over towards him. The fuck are you talking about? he said, agitated.

Look at this, Joanas said, gesturing to the deer with his gun. You see how the legs are out straight? Stiff?

Jenkin’s eyes narrowed, and he paused his griping, … Rigor mortis? he asked, growing more attentive.

Yeah, it is. And just there, on the neck… he said with wide eyes and a pointed finger. There’s a gash. And look around. No blood. Someone bled this thing… And… He trailed off again before saying, "And… Dropped it… On us."

In one fluid and practiced motion, Jenkins drew his service weapon. His eyes darted around, clawing at every dark shadow as a small trickle of blood dripped slowly from the wound on his head. What… What the fuck, man? Is this some kind of joke? he said with a shaking voice.

Joanas shook his head, looking off to the darkness surrounding them. Nawh Man. This is real. He thought for a moment, trying to apply logic and rationale to what just happened. Blood is heavy. Maybe… Whoever it was… Maybe they needed to drop some weight to get it up the tree.

Jenkins looked up at him for a moment. How the fuck are you so calm?

Becau- He cut himself off and whispered urgently, Do you hear that? He turned quickly to face the direction of the sound. As he stared off the road, the mist seemed to press in closer.

The pair stayed silent for what seemed like an eternity, listening for another sound, looking for the slightest of movement. The only sound they could hear was the blood rushing in their ears and the deafening sound of their own thunderous heart beats. The only movement was the vapors of their breath, which were quickly consumed by the mists that squeezed them. When he’d had enough, Jenkins broke the silence with a shaky whisper and said, I don’t hear anything. He sounded more hopeful than he felt.

Joanas whispered back as he retreated closer to his partner. "Exactly. Everything makes some noise. Keep your ears open."

Just then, what sounded like a stone clacking against stone rang out close by. They wheeled around and saw a small stone come to rest just inside the reach of the ruby red light.

Joanas frowned. What the-

He was suddenly silenced by a hulking figure. A dark, shapeless mass charged at them down from the hill side with supernatural speed. It bulled past Jenkins and knocked him to the ground. His pistol flew from his hand, landing with a clatter against the pavement.

The thing ignored him and instead targeted Joanas. It tackled him to the ground and savagely dragged him into the dark forest across the road. Joanas screamed and clawed with bloody fingers on the pavement as it tore him away from the light.

Jenkins reeled, instinct taking over. He leapt at his gun, snagging it off the ground with lightning quick reflexes. Jenkins hoped to high heaven that his aim was true as he trained his weapon at the spot they had disappeared. He aimed high, as the creature was tall, and his partner was knocked down, and blind fired five shots, hoping at least one would hit the thing and make it release his partner.

The screaming continued, though. Each tortured howl rang painfully in Jenkins ears, seemingly from every direction as he unleashed another five shot burst. The screaming suddenly ended with a sickening, stomach wrenching crunch.

How many shots? Five; twice. Nineteen round clip. Nine shots left. Spare clips in the car. Jenkins crouched, trembling in the road, for his personal hell had just been made real. Darkness surrounded him like a void that hungered, cold mist curled around his body like tentacles from the deep, all while he bathed in a tormented crimson light. He clung to his gun like a liferaft, his weapon pointed into the void. With a quivering voice he tried to shout, but choked. He tried again. Jo- he coughed, Joanas! he yelled louder and more desperately. Joanas! Say something! You can’t leave me here! When there was no reply, he let out a breathless whisper. Please…

His heart sank into the pit of his stomach. Jenkins managed to push himself to his feet, never taking his eyes off the spot he last saw his friend, never lowering his guard. A long time passed. Too much of it. The world was still, the world was silent, the mist ever swirling. His vision was locked to one spot, but his hearing was sharpened to a razor’s edge.

He could begin to see beyond, slightly, observing the world through different senses. The breeze in the trees, the chirp of a cricket, the distant hoot of an owl, the snap of a twig directly in front of him! He opened fire with a third round of five shots, spreading his range along a horizontal line just above shoulder height.

The ringing in his ears began to fade, and the world returned to silence. The last thing that Kevin Jenkins ever saw was the muzzle flash of a pistol. He never even heard the shot.

Slowly the creature stepped onto the road, now illuminated by the car lights. It was huge, standing at an imposing height that was taller than almost any man. Its frame was broad and powerful. Its body was like that of a deer, if it had been stretched long and given sloped hips, like that of a rat or an aging hound. At the end of each of its four legs was a powerful, calloused human hand; its terrible grip grown strong through the ages. The only sound the creature made as it emerged from the woods was the slap… Slap… Slap of its bare hands against the asphalt. It walked with a strange and staggered gate, for in one of its hands was the blood soaked side arm that had belonged to Joanas. It sauntered over to the corpse of Jenkins and retrieved the other gun from his cold, dead hands.

Upon the creature’s breast was a marred and barren field of flesh where the fur refused to grow; a testament to a long healed scar where a great flame had licked. The scar ran from its fur covered chest all the way up to its long, muscled neck, and atop that neck was a head like that of men. Its features were like the native people of North America who walked these lands ages ago; when men hunted mammoths and hid from dire beasts. Its cranium was elongated, stretching back atop its muscular, cervidae neck. The creature’s jaw and cheek bones were pronounced and heavy, beset with an exaggeration of muscle that normal man did not have. Deep scars ran like canyons over its battle torn features.

With a tranquil satisfaction, the living nightmare closed its eyes and raised its nose to the wind. Pulling the cool night air through its nostrils, it let out a long, satisfied sigh of content. As its lips peeled back into a tight, sadistic smile, it revealed a mouth full of serrated, triangular teeth. The long, black hair atop its head came to life as two long tentacles, the color of ink, stirred beneath them. Sporadically placed along the length of the inky black arms were smaller tentacles that ended in a boneless point. The arms atop its head gathered up its hair, wrapping the mess into neat braids. The boneless arms pulled the braids back and away from its face as the preternatural creature lowered its head to feed.

Two, Part 1: Old Stomping Grounds

Zack Roan was driving The Big Truck, a spectacular specimen of a semi. His baby had just been washed and waxed that morning and it gleamed in the morning sun like an Adonis. He’d invested a little and had it detailed. Black and grey flames swirled back from the engine and the new company logo was emblazoned on both driver side and passenger doors.

Zack was a young and wiry black man, only 21 years old, but he had goals. The sun’s rays were nearly horizontal this early in the morning and they were hitting him in the eyes, so he flipped the sunshade down. He was bathed in a strange sensation as the cold morning air contrasted against the warm rays of the sun on his skin. It was still too bright to see as he headed eastward, so he slipped on his sunglasses. They snagged one of his short dreadlocks on his palm tree like hair, but a little shake of his head untangled it. He glanced down at his phone mounted in the holder on his dashboard. Good, he had a few bars.

Zack cleared his throat. Phone, call Big Yeehaw. The phone sprang to life and sifted through his contacts, dialing the number.

After a few rings, a gravelly Texan accent answered, Howdy howdy?

In a mockery of a southern accent, Zack called out, Boy howdy, well ain’t this just a ten gallon surprise. I hardly ‘spected you to rise with the roosters.

The man on the other end chuckled and said, You know it. Had to get up early to polish the old six shooter.

Zack smiled and slyly shot back, I thought that was Pharrell’s job.

Another laugh came over the speaker. I’ll have to remember that one.

Zack returned the laughter in kind. How you been, Jay?

Oh, fine. Just fine. Been having trouble sleeping, some nights, but I can’t complain. Weird dreams about, ah, you know. How about yourself, kiddo?

Zack nodded to himself. I’ve been good. Did Mat tell you much about what we’ve been up to?

A bit, but that was a while ago. What’s new?

Well we officially have a new logo. Whole thing looks like one of those old timey stamps. It’s a hemp leaf that has tree roots and then the company name is written around the border. Looks badass, man.

"Alright, good job, kiddo. He said you were branching out, too? What’s that all about?"

"Ah, man. I’ve been hustling hard on that one. Three fucking years, man, but it’s paying off in a big way. I’ve been studying, looking at how the laws and markets are changing, writing up business models; I’m slowly changing it from a lumber company into, well, still a lumber company, but a better and sustainable one. Hemp’s freaking crazy useful. It grows more than just construction material. I’ve laid out some plans to pipe in new revenue streams; and it’s diverse. Hemp makes better paper, tougher fabric, lipstick, concrete, gasoline, biodegradable plastic; you name it."

Jay gave a low whistle. You’re pullin’ my leg.

"Hell nah, I’m going to give your Texas crude a run for its money. Biodiesel is the way to go, for now anyway. I’m actually in The Big Truck right now, hauling a tanker of the stuff for our machines. We got phat piles of wood waste out there, so while we’re working we can let it ferment and then sell it over to companies that make second generation biofuels. It’s nuts how much cost I’ve carved off this operation. Then all that stacks with green energy tax breaks. It’s fucking great, man."

Jay gave an even longer whistle. Boy, I don’t know that I followed half of that, but it sounds mighty impressive; and it sounds like you’re really takin’ the reins. M’proud of you.

Zack’s smile was beaming brighter than the sun. Aww, thanks, dude.

I mean it. I hear you talk about all this stuff and I can hear your passion.

"I mean, I’ve got Mat to thank, mostly. It’s his company, and he’s letting me do all this stuff."

Jay grunted. Yeah, but the way he tells it, those sales pitches you give are genuine expert. Pointin’ out all the money he’s just leaving on the table. You earned that trust. Every damn drop of it.

Zack’s smile grew even broader and he rubbed his neck, a little shy at the compliments. Shit man. Well, that really means a lot.

‘Course. You said you were driving The Big Truck? Headin’ off to a new site?

Mm hm. The last site, actually. This is gonna be our final season. Then we’ll have a hundred percent converted.

Mmm, well that’s excellent.

Zack rubbed the stubble on his chin nervously. Yeah. About that, though. That’s kind of why I’m calling. The site we got. It’s out near, ah, you know. The line went silent for a tense few moments. Zack cleared his throat. Ah, yo, homes, did the call drop?

Jay’s voice was tense as he responded, No, no. I’m still here.

Zack could feel his own anxiety bubbling up. Yeah. So, I wouldn’t ask you to come out, but would it be cool if we set up a, like, a check in system? I had something similar with my parole officer back in the day. The dude scoped me like a hawk and I couldn’t get away with nothin’. I figure if I give you a ring once a day, you know somethin’s up if I go quiet. The line went quiet again. I wouldn’t be asking if I had nobody else. You’re the only one who knows what’s out there that I can get in touch with, reliably. Jay?

Jay’s voice was gruffer, attempting to mask his trouble with the request. Yeah, yeah. I’m… yeah. Yeah. Is Mat still using his SAT phone?

Yup, new and improved, since the last one was busted up when, you know.

Jay grumbled into the phone for a few moments, mulling something over in his head. Alright. Yeah, I’ll set up my equipment tonight, we’ll touch bases at nineteen hundred or so. And if, ah… if I don’t hear from you, I’ll, I’ll do something. I won’t leave you out there. Not with the Snag.

Aye, thanks, man. Honestly, I’ve been freakin’ a little about going out there. This really helps, you know?

Jay grumbled some more. Ah, I know. Getting the police to lift a finger the first time was hard enough, and it’s a damn miracle no one in camp got pegged for the deaths. I mean, god damn, son, how many hours did they have you under the microscope?

Rolling his eyes, Zack groaned. "Seventeen, fucking hours. Do you believe that shit? They have to have broken some kind of law doing that, right? And they still never believed the story about a ‘wild man’. It’s cool, though. Out of all the shit I’ve been through, being in the hot seat is something I’m actually good at."

Hugh, well I sure as –- was-’t -oing to t—l them a monster did it. They’d lo— me up and throw away the k—.

Zack nodded agreement. I feel you man. Hey, you’re breaking up. He stole a glance at his phone. Yeah, I’m down to like, one bar. I’ll call you tonight on the SAT.

Jay’s garbled voice crackled through the phone. —right. Stay saf- —t there. Later, -iddo.

And with that, the call ended, just as his phone lost all signal. Zack breathed a sigh of relief. Going back there was weighing on him heavier than he realized, and just knowing there was a cavalry in the wings helped ease his anxiety.

He still had scars on his body from where the monster had pelted him with fist sized stones. He’d never caught a clear sight of it, but Jay had