It’s time for Weird Fiction Monday, when I post stories that I’ve written — both new and old — for the entertainment (hopefully) of my readers! As always, I note that I haven’t done extensive editing of the tales here, so don’t be surprised to find the writing a little rough.
This is another one from the archives, first written at the end of 1998.
Away From It All
When people are dying mysteriously in the mountains, a clever vacationer can get a really good deal on a hunting cabin out there. At least that’s what Mark had told them when he agreed to make the arrangements for them that summer. As it turned out, the deal wasn’t so great, and people were still dying under mysterious circumstances by the time of the trip, but they all had money to kill, and vacation time to burn, and guns to defend themselves with, so they decided to make the trek anyway.
They used Jake’s Cherokee to cover most of the distance from the big city, and Toby volunteered to drive it as far as they could take it. The cabin wasn’t accessible by road, so they had to park the jeep in a small lot about seven miles away and make the rest of the journey on foot.
The walk was hard than any of them expected. Up and down the foothills they hiked, and across small runoff streams, following the thin, almost nonexistent trail that the cabin’s lessor had promised would lead them to their vacation spot for the week. Not surprisingly, well before the log-constructed edifice came into view, Toby was complaining quite vocally about the long walk.
“I just don’t see why we need to be situated so far away from everything,” he said, pulling at the straps to his backpack uncomfortably. “I’ve seen hunters perfectly happy working right off the expressways.”
Jake looked sideways at Mark, then turned to look back at Toby.
“How many deer do you think we’ll get stomping through the bush with an army of other guys? This is the way to hunt – away from everyone and everything. Except the deer.”
“Even the deer probably don’t come this far,” Toby muttered.
Mark and Jake exchanged another glance, and the implied question between them was easily understandable. Would they have to put up with this shit for the entire week?
“Besides,” Mark said to Toby, waving an arm vaguely at the forest around them. “We’ll only be making this hike one more time – to leave. We’ll spend the week sitting in place, waiting for the animals to come to us. And we’re here already.”
The trail they had been following wandered to the edge of a reasonably large clearing and faded out. The cabin awaited them within the clearing. Jake noticed with some displeasure that it seemed a little older and less sophisticated than Mark had suggested it would be, and he wondered if that had been Mark’s exaggeration or the owner’s. This building might be a hundred years old, or more. The exterior wood was almost completely blackened, the result of the rot of countless winters. The top of the chimney listed grossly towards the surrounding forest, as if it were trying to tear itself free. Low, stunted weeds grew all throughout the clearing, leading right up to the first steps of the cabin.
Continue reading →
Skulls in the Stars 
