Wendigo
By Joseph Sweet
()
About this ebook
An accident on a dark deserted highway shows one woman the truth behind an old Native-American myth.
Joseph Sweet
Joseph Sweet was born October 31 1976, and has been writing seriously since the age of sixteen. He currently lives in the upstate NY community of Watertown. Aside from writing he plays guitar and keyboard, writes and sings his own songs, and is an amateur photographer. He has worked in Television and radio doing voices and making and editing commercials, played in several bands, and acted in theater, but his greatest passion is and always has been his writing.
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Wendigo - Joseph Sweet
Wendigo
by Joseph Sweet
SMASHWORDS EDITION
PUBLISHED BY
Joseph P. Sweet and Forsaken Press
Copyright © 1995-2013 Forsaken Press and Joseph P. Sweet. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to photocopying, or internet posting without written permission from Forsaken Press, or the Author, except for review purposes, or that deemed fit by the author for promotion. All persons, places, and organizations mentioned herein, except those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious. Any similarities to any persons, places, or organizations, living, dead, undead, or otherwise, are purely Coincidental.
Forsaken Press
forsakenpress@gmail.com
This story is recommended for ages 18 and up.
Contents:
Copyright
Wendigo
Free Excerpt from Requiem For Humanity
Bio
*
I
Lynn was pushing her small white 81 Mazda slightly over the speed limit on Country Route 41; a long stretch of lonely highway which she found somewhat mirrored her poor excuse for a life. Abused by a family that never wanted her to begin with, her entire life had been spent trying to escape the loneliness, which in all its misery, was still her only friend.
Ahead from the steady ominous row of sentinel pines, a figure emerged at a dead run and stopped right in her path. He frantically waved for her to stop, but she was going too fast. There simply wasn't time.
Lynn slammed on the brakes, sending the small vehicle into a spin on the rain-slicked asphalt. For just an instant, she thought she was going to hit him. In the next millisecond, however, the car swerved and skidded past the stranger, missing him by a quarter of an inch.
A look of terror distorted the man's face, accented by a quick flash from the car's headlights, and then he disappeared once more as the car spun further out of control. Lynn was sure that look would remain etched in her mind for a long time to come, however, if she managed to survive the night.
Straining every muscle in her left side and both arms, as the wheel fought to spin out of control, Lynn somehow managed to hang on. She jerked the wheel a bit too harshly in the direction of the car's spin and somehow managed to remember to pump the brakes. But despite her best efforts, the car skidded right off the road a few seconds later. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the vehicle came to an abrupt halt, lifting off the ground for a moment as it rolled over something large and then slammed back to the ground.
Lynn sighed in relief, turning the key to shut off the engine. She let her head fall to the steering wheel with a barely audible thud that would have hurt if not for the massive rush of adrenaline now coursing through her veins. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest, causing little white lights to appear at the corners of her vision with each earth-shaking beat. For the moment she had forgotten about the man in the road.
Her mind had not yet recovered from the shock of the past few seconds when the stranger she had nearly run down flung open the passenger side door, sat down and closed it. We have to get out of here!
he screamed. Given his appearance at that moment - in a heightened state of panic, at least three days in need of a shave, wearing an orange camouflage coat - he vaguely resembled an escaped mental patient. Lynn felt a small current of fear surge through her. Now!
he pleaded.
What the hell's going on?
she demanded to know. She could hear the fear in her wavery voice and she didn't like it one bit.
Just drive the fucking car lady!
he snapped impatiently, eyeing the darkness around them as though he expected the very forest itself to rise and tear him from the passenger seat.
For the first time, Lynn realized the danger of her situation. For all she knew, this guy could be the next Ted Bundy or John Gacy, his latest victim lying just beyond those trees. And who would miss her if she disappeared? She had no real friends. Anyone who had ever attempted to get close had been quickly and efficiently cut off by the cold dissociative personality that had helped her survive a hellish childhood. An image of her neighbor - 'What had been his name?' - Flashed in her mind.
She had been bringing her groceries into the house on her first day there, and he'd stopped mowing the lawn to offer his help. Lynn had immediately thrown up her defenses, telling him, no thanks, she could get it on her own - Shutting him out as she had done to so many people. Later in the house, she backed against the wall, feeling weak and pathetic, and cried. The realization had come that there would never be