She paused to allow the new word to sink into our vocabulary, and then continued. “He went on to say that maybe they were the ones who got Huck, too. Of course, I suppose he was wrong on that one.”
“That’s true,” Huck said. “But it’s got me thinking. Jim and I ran across the body of my Pap in a house floating down the river. They could have killed him.”
We saw Ben Rogers’ mother approaching and clammed up. She asked us if her son was with us, but we thought he was at home.
“Oh dear,” she said. “I hope he’s all right. I - land sakes! Huck Finn, you’re supposed to be dead!”
Huck turned to Tom. “By the time your aunt Polly explains everything at church, we will have already told the entire town.” They offered yet another summary of Huck’s adventures.
Mrs. Rogers seemed to lose interest, however, and grew more worried. “So none of you have spoken to Ben today?”
“No, ma’am.”
She moved on, muttering, “Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh dear.”
Judge Thatcher called Becky to join him, leaving just the three of us. That familiar spark showed in Tom and Huck’s eyes. We knew where Ben would be.
We went to Aunt Polly’s to swipe some candles from her pantry. Then we took a canoe five miles down the Mississippi River to the McDougal cave’s secret entrance. We found a small raft nearby. Our hunch had to be right.
We worked our way through the caverns on a path we were all accustomed to. After reaching the large rock with a cross above it, we saw the boards on one side of it were removed, exposing the chasm that tunneled under the rock to where Injun Joe’s money box had been discovered.
Ben had to have been down there, but with all the talk about ghouls, we took caution. Our friend wasn’t in the hideout. Instead, we found his paints and a few canvases depicting horrifying creatures. Ben’s descriptions were disturbing, but none of us were prepared for the near-photographic detail of these paintings.
It took us a little while to recover from the initial shock. Then, as we looked closer at the pictures, a new shock set in. Behind the monsters was a cave background, and we recognized certain specifics - the stalactites and stalagmites, curves in the walls, and most of all, the large rock with the cross above it.
“They really are here,” I said. “They’ve been here all along.”
“And worse yet,” Tom said. “They’ve got Ben.”
Huck picked up two leather cases left by Injun Joe and his partner, the “deaf and dumb” Spaniard. He took out the two Colt revolvers and checked them for ammo. There were only four bullets in one and three in the other. He tossed one to Tom. “Shoot only if you have to. We don’t know how many there are.”
“You know,” Tom said, gripping the gun and admiring it, “this might be the best adventure we go on, even better than any I’ve read.”
“I guess I’m stuck with only a candle,” I said and led the others out of the hideout. “Someone has to provide the light, though.”
I was careful poking my head out from under the rock, much more so than when we’d arrived. We searched without wandering far at first, trying to decide which direction to go.
Then we came face-to-face with one of the beasts. We’d returned to the room with the rock after exploring a hall and there it was, crawling from the hideout with the paintings under its arms. It saw me first from the candle I held and squealed.
Tom raised his gun, but Huck stopped him from shooting. “Let’s follow it, instead. It might take us straight to Ben.”
The ghoul ran off, chattering and bleating like a goat. We followed as fast as we could before risking twisted ankles or broken legs. Even when the thing fell silent as it ran, we could still hear its half-hoofed feet clopping on the stone floor.
At one point, we followed it through a narrow hall, and when I reached the end and stepped out, I had to halt fast else fall into a deep chasm. Tom and Huck came up behind and nearly knocked me in before they stopped. I dropped my candle and we watched it go down, down, down. We didn’t hear it hit the bottom.
“H’ain’t you got another candle?” Huck said.
“I got half a stick.” I fished it out of a pocket along with a match.
“That’s it?”
“Well, I brought enough for me. I thought you two brung your own.”
Tom huffed at me. “We thought you had all of ‘em, so we didn’t grab none.”
I lit my candle and pointed at a rock ledge to our right. “Unless it jumped down, it had to have gone that way.”
We put our backs to the wall and crept sideways along the ledge. After inching around a wide curve, ghoul sounds could be heard reverberating from the darkness. They grew louder into a deafening chorus. We finally came across a hole in the wall and entered. We found ourselves on a cliff overlooking a great hall, far bigger than Aladdin’s Palace.
Torches lined the walls below. The room was writhing with hundreds of the dog-faced, two-legged beasts. Several groups were gathered around bodies of men that were no doubt plucked from the Mississippi. They appeared to be taking turns poking the corpses, but then I realized they were digging in with their claws and pulling off chunks of flesh to chew on.
Some were chattering amongst themselves and letting out the occasional squeal of laughter.
We saw the one we’d been chasing. It was showing the paintings to others and pointing to another group that was standing around a younger one. No, the younger creature wasn’t a ghoul. It was Ben Rogers! He still looked like Ben, but he was different. He was naked and slumped over like the rest of them, and his face was more contorted. It was as though he was changing into one of the mutants. Then we saw him accept a severed arm from the group and began to gnaw on it like he hadn’t eaten for a week.
“If that don’t beat all,” Huck said. “I don’t think Ben wants to be saved.”
Tom nodded. It was good enough reason for him to leave. “It sure don’t. Let’s get out of here.”
I turned to lead the way back to the hole in the wall. Just as I was stepping out, however, a ghoul leapt down in front of me from the ledge with a loud squeal. We all jumped back and fell off the edge of the cliff. The wall below went down at an incline so we tumbled and slid to the bottom. I had to drop my candle to steady my fall.
The three of us landed in a heap. We looked up to see all eyes on us. Most of the room fell silent. There was only the sound of the stalactites dripping, the creatures’ drooling, and the occasional bleat echoing off the walls.
Ben came closer to us and laughed like a goat. His bloodshot eyes glowed red.
I looked at Tom. He was feeling around for his gun, but it was gone. We both looked at Huck. He still had his weapon and fired at the nearest ghoul. The blast was like a crack of thunder in the cave. The bullet struck the beast square in the chest and it toppled over.
Shock spread across the hall. Then the faces grew furious. They snarled like a giant pack of wolves ready to spring. The look in Ben’s eyes was maddening.
We scrambled to our feet and ran to the closest exit. Huck had to shoot another to part the gathering crowd enough to pass. I snatched a torch from the wall and the boys followed me into the passageway. The ghouls were quick on our heels.
The escape route got smaller and smaller, and we wondered if it would come to a dead end. We finally had to crawl on our knees. I was getting awfully tired, but the noises behind us kept me going. I also knew if I slowed down, it could allow Tom, who was bringing up the rear, to be killed and eaten. They were both only able to move as fast as me.
I reached the end of the tunnel and was excited to see an opening. The only thing is when I waved the torch around, I couldn’t see a floor.
“I don’t know if there’s a bottom here,” I said to the others.
Huck pushed on me. “Well, we know what’s behind us. We’ve got no choice but to jump. Now git!”
I did just that, sliding down the wall until I fell against a boulder. I pointed the torch up to see if Huck and Tom we
re following. Huck was working his way out but Tom yelled, “One of them’s got my ankle!”
Huck turned to grab Tom’s wrist. Then he planted his feet against the wall and pulled with all his might. The ghoul must have let go too easily, because Huck ended up pushing himself way out. He fell past me farther down. Tom came right after, headfirst. I tried to catch him, but he ended up bringing both of us down toward Huck.
I didn’t let go of my light this time. A spring-fed stream broke my fall, however, so the torch was soaked. Huck landed in the water, also. He hit his head pretty good, though.
Tom called out to us, asking if we were okay. We said we were and he replied, “Come over here, then. My leg is stuck on something.” We went to the sound of his voice and felt around to see what was wrong. He’d fallen on a stalagmite and the point had punctured his left thigh, impaling him. It took a while to figure out how to get him off it. The total darkness didn’t help, neither.
By the time we had him standing on one leg between us, ghouls were jumping down at us right and left. Some were killing themselves on the other stalagmites or landing on the rocks, cracking their skulls open.
The gun was lost. All we had was my wet torch. I used it as a club to knock them out of the way as we ran together along the stream. Tom tried to move his good leg to keep up, but we dragged him along for the most part. That slowed us down enough. Running into the cave walls as it twisted and turned with no light made it even worse. We fell down several times on the declines and tripped up the inclines. Fortunately, the ghouls were having a rough time figuring out which path we were taking as we ran. After all, it was a labyrinth down there.
At last, we bumped into a wooden door. It had to be the main entrance that Judge Thatcher had sealed off. Even though we couldn’t escape through it, we were familiar enough with that area to get back to the hideout and from there, the other exit.
There was no time to spare. Torchlights glowed from one of the caverns and the chattering could be heard. They were catching up with us.
We took off toward the hideout, but had a long ways to go. Tom finally collapsed and said he couldn’t go on. He was too exhausted and the loss of blood from his leg had him real weak. There was no way we could leave him there. Huck picked him up by the armpits and I by his ankles, and we carried him.
The ghouls were gaining on us. We were moving slower and slower.
Tom said, “You just put me down!”
“We can’t do that,” Huck said, grunting as we moved.
“Listen here, Huck,” Tom looked up at him. “I read enough adventure stories to know there’s always one hero who gets injured and has to sacrifice himself so his comrades can live.”
“What’s a ‘comrade?’”
“I don’t know, but I think it means you and Joe. You two put me down so I can sacrifice myself for you. You know how it works. We have to do it like the books.”
“Oh, Tom,” Huck let out a sob. “As usual, you’re head’s full of sand and nonsense. Even so, I guess you’re right this time.”
We laid him down and said, “Goodbye.” We really didn’t have time for anything sentimental. We had to run!
Tom Sawyer’s voice echoed after us. “Write about me, Huck! Put me in an adventure book! Let people know what all we done-“
That was the last we heard of him before the ghouls caught up. As we moved through the caverns, Huck kept saying, “I will, Tom. I’m agreed. I’ll do it.”
Huckleberry and I made it to the exit, barely. It felt so good to be back in the daylight, back where the ghouls couldn’t go. Inside, their glowing red eyes shined out at us.
We only took a moment to catch our breath. Then we canoed up the river and returned with some dynamite we’d swiped from the general store. We blasted the secret entrance, caving it in and hopefully killing a few monsters that were waiting there until dark. We didn’t hear much else about the ghouls after that.
Surely there were more entrances, though, and they could always tunnel around and make new ones, so I moved away as soon as I was old enough.
Huckleberry Finn - or should I say “Samuel Clemens?” - stayed true to his word. He grew up and wrote all about Tom Sawyer under the name Mark Twain. He tied up the end, however, and played it off as Tom grew up, nothing more to say.
Well, now his last adventure is finally told. Thank you for letting me share it.
J. Harper
Bonus #1
First 7 chapters of Fear of the Woods (final version may differ slightly)
Some history on Fear the Woods by the author:
What follows is the beginning of a full-length novel that was originally released as The Oak Clan. It did well in its time, but it was rough. As the years went by, I knew I could make it a lot better. S.D. Hintz, the chief editor of KHP Publishers, Inc., wanted to see the improved version so that he, among other readers, could finally read the sequel.
I was more than happy to oblige him. We’d started by kicking out the new version as a serial, changing the title to Fear the Woods to distance it from the older, now-inferior release, but my health began to deteriorate so I was never able to proceed beyond the first installment.
Well, as time passed, my health continued to worsen, though nothing life threatening, but I’ve learned to cope while trying to slowly get back to my work. S.D. told me that, when I felt able, perhaps I could rework the entire book instead of a serialized format, so at least it will all be out if I have more trouble afterward. Then I can work on the sequel and so forth. It sounded like a good idea.
I still have difficulty writing new material, though ideas are swarming my mind, but I have my windows throughout the week when I can go back to already-written work and touch them up. This collection is proof of that, and I hope you have enjoyed it.
So here are the first seven chapters of the reworked Fear the Woods book as they appeared in the first serial attempt. In addition, I picked out a few scenes from the old version of The Oak Clan for the fun of it. I changed some names to avoid spoilers, and they are sure to be different in Fear the Woods, but I thought you might get a kick out of them.
I apologize for any confusion to readers throughout the years over this book, and I especially apologize for keeping early fans in suspense for so long regarding the sequel. I hope in time, you’ll feel it was all worthwhile.
Jerrod Balzer
Chapter 1
For reasons no one could agree on, Mother Nature was pissed at the Midwest. Some believed it to be global warming, some figured it was only a phase, while others thought they were being punished for all the backwoods inbreeding. Whatever the cause, they’d spent the last few years with escalated tornado weather in the spring, scorching summers, violent thunderstorms in autumn, and the winters had more ice than snow.
As this autumn was kicking off, it proved to be no exception, and the residents of Oakview were buckling down for the night. Stratus clouds layered the sky, blocking out any light from the heavens. The inevitable showers hadn’t fallen yet, but the howling wind from the northwest was inflicting plenty of damage, bending trees to their fullest extent and littering yards with fallen branches. Loose shutters rattled with an annoying clatter and plastic garbage cans thumped down the empty streets. This was enough to keep people indoors, but the storm wasn’t the only threat.
The shadow crept with caution. To lose the attention of possible observers, it stopped behind the occasional tree to wait before moving on. It passed between empty cars and behind hedges, avoiding fenced yards - they usually contained noisy dogs. Swaying branches and flying debris had the motion-sensing houselights turning on and off like slow strobes throughout the neighborhood, making it difficult to sneak.
Another power outage would be nice.
It started to rain thick, stinging drops. The shadow paused behind another tree and listened to the bass of a living room stereo. There was no harm in investigating. It was dry inside and the loud music would drown out screams for the neighbors. After a few steps
toward the house, however, it ducked behind bushes lining the front sidewalk.
A searchlight swept across the lawn as the patrol car passed, and voices crackled from the radio within. The shadow looked away from the car, held its breath, and curled into a ball, visualizing a cold black stone.
The officer with the light sighed. “I can’t see shit in this weather. Why even bother?”
“Yeah, fuck it,” the driver said. “Let’s go smoke that weed I confiscated last night.”
“I heard that.” He switched off the light and the car sped onward.
The shadow rose and stood silent until the taillights were out of sight. Then it proceeded to the side of the house and peered through the first window, which overlooked the kitchen sink. In the room beyond that, it could see the back of a chair that cradled a young redheaded woman while she talked on the telephone. It lifted the window just enough to make out what she was saying over the music.
“… And you’ll never believe what Chad did after that. He asked me to marry him! Isn’t that great? … Well, I’m going to wait and talk to my parents before I give an answer. They don’t know about it yet, and I can’t tell them until they get back from St. Louis on Monday … They’re visiting my Uncle Leroy. He just got out of the hospital from hip surgery … Oh yeah, the ring is beautiful. I’m wearing it right now … Oh, come on! If I decide not to marry him, I’ll just give it back! I couldn’t resist taking it, whether I had an answer or not … Well, if I do say ‘yes,’ I need to wait until I graduate. Then I can concentrate on a full-time job … Yeah … Uh, huh … Yeah, well I gotta go. Chad will be off work soon and he’s coming over. I have some stuff to do before he gets here … Uh huh, I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.”
She hung up and sat for a while, deep in thought as she listened to the radio. What would her parents think? Knowing them, she figured they would give her this lecture about how she was too young for such a commitment and she would need to concern herself with college first. She didn’t even want to go to college. The vocational school in town had all the classes she was interested in without having to leave home, or Chad. She loved him so much and didn’t know what she’d do if they disapproved.
Zombies, Werewolves, Whores, and More! Page 10