Reigndeer E-Book

Wayne Kyle Spitzer

• Herausgeber: Wayne Kyle Spitzer
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

We’d walked about two miles when Tucker jogged to catch up with us. “Twenty dollars says I can get back here before you do,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “That’s fine,” said Danny. “Fish and game will have your info.” “And that means your old man’s van down by the river as well as your mamma’s single-wide,” said Billy. I was laughing when I noticed a handful of deer stepping onto the road ahead of us—which were quickly joined by others until they spanned nearly the entire width of the pavement. It’s funny because I don’t remember feeling scared, only curious. It was comical, frankly, like something from a Far Side cartoon. “If you’re going to shoot an elephant, Mr. Schneider, you better be prepared to finish the job,” I joked, but no one got it, only gazed off down the road at the line of deer. “Okay, that is damn weird,” said Danny, and seemed to grip his rifle tighter. “Anybody else think that’s weird?” “That’s definitely weird,” said Billy. Tucker raised his rifle slowly. “What are you doing?” snapped Danny. “Chill out, Pussy Galore,” he said. He squinted through his telescope. “Just doing a little reconnaissance.” He tracked his barrel back and forth slowly. “Yeah … they’ve got the white eyes, just like the others.” He paused and held steady. “And the red markings. I don’t know, looks almost like a—” There was a crack! as he squeezed his trigger, and I looked up in time to see blood jet from the back of one of the bucks’ heads. Then the life ran from its legs and it collapsed, right there in the middle of the road, as the others scattered and disappeared back into the tree line. No one said anything for several moments. “Boo,” said Tucker suddenly, spinning on Danny, and to his smug satisfaction the younger man jumped. Tucker just laughed and slapped his gun barrel against his palm. “Everyone relax. I’ve cleared the threat—” “Right now,” hissed Danny, throwing down his gun and darting at him.  

Leseprobe

REIGNDEER

by

Wayne Kyle Spitzer

Table of Contents

Title Page

Reigndeer: A Horror Story

The End

Copyright © 2018 Wayne Kyle Spitzer. All Rights Reserved. Published by Hobb’s End Books, a division of ACME Sprockets & Visions. Cover design Copyright © 2018 Wayne Kyle Spitzer. Please direct all inquiries to: [email protected]

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this book is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

The fawn had barely opened its eyes and begun to breathe, Danny having carefully cut open the dead doe’s amniotic sac and severed the umbilical cord, when Tucker stepped forward and shot it clean through the eye—splattering the crisp linen snow with blood (more than a little of which sprinkled Danny) and causing everyone to jump, especially me.

To understand what happened next one would have had to been there for the entire trip—for all the jests gone too far and the constant, incessant bickering, for the bitching about where to go and even how to get there, for the bitter rivalry which had developed between the oldest and most experienced of us, Danny and Tucker.

All I know is Danny launched himself at him like there was no tomorrow right there in the middle of the glade, his arms sort of swinging like a windmill and his fists flying like you see in hockey fights, so that Tucker lost his balance almost instantly and tumbled back into the snow. I don’t know who would have won if we hadn’t broken it up—probably Tucker, who’d always been a mean bastard. If it hadn’t been for the appearance of the buck I’m not sure we could have, frankly.

“Hey now, hey, hey, hey!” shouted Billy, who was holding back Tucker as I held Danny. “Holy shit, look!”

“Knock it off, Billy,” cursed Danny, who’d begun trying to take off his coat. “No one fires a gun two feet from my fucking head and ...”

But he’d seen it too, just standing there at the edge of the glade: a fully-grown stag—easily a 10-pointer, maybe even a twelve—it was difficult to say considering the distance and the sun’s glare.

“Get off me,” said Tucker, wrestling with Billy. “I said get off me!” He shoved him hard and Billy fell ass-end into the snow—which should have been enough to startle the buck into flight, but didn’t.

“I say it’s the Beav’s,” said Danny, and everyone agreed but Tucker—of course. The Beaver was me, because I was the youngest and had a cowlick. I guess.

“I don’t know, Danny. The last time didn’t work out so—”

“Just do it,” he said, and handed me his Scout rifle. “Use this. Merry Christmas.”

I took the rifle and handed him my own.

It felt good in my hands, like my Uncle Fred’s guitar, which always seemed to give me something even though I couldn’t play it. It was something about the shape and heft of the thing—it inspired confidence, courage, focus. And its scope was wide and clear so that the buck’s face veritably leapt out at me as I sighted it.

“Easy now ... what do you see?” said Danny.

I moved up one of the buck’s antlers slowly and steadily, counting the tines. “One ... two ... three ... four ... five!”

“On one side?” Billy interjected excitedly.

“Six ... seven. One side.” I moved to the other antler and counted to six. “13 total. A 13-point buck.” I lowered my sites to its head and steadied my grip. That’s when I noticed the unusual mark on its head, like a red diamond, right between its eyes. Its foggy, white eyes.

I must have stared at them for a long time, because I remember Tucker saying, “Well, what are you waiting for?”

“I think its blind,” I said.

“So? All the more reason to put it down. So put it down. Or I will.”