Stronghold

By Backwoods

After a devastating attack changed the country forever, Johnny and Rae Lynn Tapper have survived solitude in the wilderness, bitter winters, brutal injuries, a deadly encounter with wolves, and the birth of their child while alone and trapped by a very unpleasant bear. Now they face an even greater danger, Howard Harvey, the serial killer who has moved into their town of Stronghold.

They are joined by a small group of survivors, who seek refuge and bring news of hostile militias and chaos beyond the mountains. Together, they build and fortify a new town, a Stronghold, as they prepare for eminent danger. Unaware that a sadistic serial killer is secretly living among them, the deadliest threat they face does not come from beyond, but from within. Will they discover the killer before it is too late?

Stronghold is the second book in the Off Grid Series by Backwoods. Although best read in order, Stronghold is a spine chilling story that is sure to please all by its lonesome. It also brings the return of Ethan Wolfe, a favorite character from ‘Unremembered’.

Contains drug use, profanity and graphic violence. Not suitable for children.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Backwoods
• Release date: Aug 21, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301309634

Backwoods

My wife offered the image.She claims the likeness is remarkable.~​Do I have a slogan? Well, did once and my deer got away.~A website! Watch out fer spiders!~True happiness can only be achieved with a complete, and total, lack of awareness.~When I tweet, birds come. When I yahoo, somethin' good just happened. I threw away my fackbook many years ago, when my wife stole my heart. My weebly is all wobbly, myspace is a mess, and when I google I shut the door and light a match.~~~~~~~~●About The AuthorWe live off grid, hidden amongst hundreds of acres of the deep Ohio backwoods. Our tiny town is loaded with the type of folks that wave when you drive by, and stop when you need help. A quiet existence, far removed from the amenities that a modern life would provide, may seem impossible to some, but the dog loves it and the wife and kids don't seem to mind.We have no television and no electricity to run it if we had. That said, led lighting and 12v solar kits make off grid life quite modernized. My wife and I often run our portable dvd player at night, catching up on our favorite shows and any new movies that appear worth watching. A car radio provides some noise and a 12v on-demand water pump covers all of our water needs.I may soon write about our life without power. I may even publish it under my other name, so curious minds can seek out my true identity. However, the 'True Tales from the Backwoods - From Hunting Camp, To Home' is still in the scattered thoughts stage. I have plenty of stories to tidy up and get to you before then.~Thanks for Reading~~Backwoods~

Book preview

Stronghold

Book #2 of the Off Grid Series

Written by Backwoods

Copyright 2013 Backwoods

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License notes

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’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Prologue

She watched in confusion, as he transformed from the friendly man she had been seeing for nearly a month, to a crazed killer in the blink of an eye. He had never shown this darkness before, she thought to herself. His eyes raged with fire as he lunged forward, grasping her throat with a tightening squeeze and slamming her back against the wall. The sounds drifted to silence as the room filled with darkness. Her thoughts bounced in confusion. Why is he doing this? Who is he? How come I didn’t? Am I going to…?

Such a shame, he said. How could such a pretty little thing be so fucking stupid? Was I supposed to let you live because you were an ignorant little bitch?

He chuckled to himself as he flung her lifeless body over his shoulder and headed to his truck. His joy was overwhelming. He did not typically feel joy, or anything for that matter, just the same meaningless bullshit day after day. The rush she provided would last for a while, along with an intense excitement. He had known such excitement only three times. Once with his first kill, again when the first novel hit the shelves, and now, as his masterpiece grew toward completion.

She was perfect for the role, he thought, as he opened the back of the refrigerated box truck and tossed her in. He climbed in after her, pulling the doors shut behind him. He then proceeded to the hidden wall concealed in the front of the box, directly behind the cab, and stashed the corpse inside the hidden room. Once she was hidden, he closed up the box, climbed into the cab and began the long journey back home to New York.

He had played his game to perfection, taking his time, fucking her for a month, yet even as she took her dying gasp, she had absolutely no idea who he was or why she was a mere flicker away from death. More profoundly, he had fooled them all. A dozen novels and all the faithful fans and followers that believed his work to be fiction had no idea that the stories they loved were true. The eagerness boiled inside him. He could not wait to tell the final chapter, complete his masterpiece, and finish the story. He had received hundreds of fan letters and thousands of emails, all begging for the next installment. He certainly would not disappoint. They would get the horrific brutality they asked for, only they would get it in a fashion more real than they could have ever imagined. He carried no guilt, yet the fans certainly would.

He now had the final piece of his murderous puzzle. Once back at his warehouse in New York, he could put her in place, revealing it to them all. He wondered how long it would take people to discover that the grizzly image covering his book, was in fact, the true resting place of 113 bodies that people throughout 14 states had been searching for, for up to seven years since he began his collection. He savored the possibility of the family members of his victims reading the actual story of their loved ones death while smiling with chills and asking for more. The ignorance may offer bliss, he thought, but the sadistic reality will provide nothing short of the perfect mind-fuck.

One hundred thirteen souls, one hundred thirteen families, one hundred thirteen fathers, one hundred thirteen mothers, sons, daughters, husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, cousins, grandparents. I will torture them all with one single keystroke. The thoughts rolled through him as he laughed, amused in his brilliance. He would drive straight through the night and finish the manuscript the next day. His publisher would have it on bookshelves in a week or two. His thoughts brought him a devilish grin.

He stopped at a truck stop just west of Indianapolis to top off the tanks and grab a dozen donuts and some coffee for the long journey back to New York. As he pulled up to the pump he spotted two state troopers, as they sat, drivers door to drivers door. Shooting the shit, while murderers are on the loose, he thought, as he hopped out and began to fuel up.

He finished at the pump and went inside to gather his necessities and pay. As he turned to leave, he came face to face with a police officer. Pigs must be done bullshittin’, he thought, as he excused himself, and continued toward the door.

Hey, hold on a second, the officer said.

Without twitching a nerve, he turned around. What can I do ya for, Officer?

Hey, you are Howard Harvey, aren’t ya? the trooper asked.

Yes sir, the one and only, he replied with a smile.

Any chance I could get an autograph? I’ve got a copy of ‘A Murderer in Your Midst’ out in the cruiser.

Well absolutely. I’d be honored! he lied.

The trooper followed him outside, grabbed the book from the dashboard, and handed it to him.

What’s your name, sir? he asked.

Officer Brian Duncan, he responded with excitement. I can’t believe it is you. I am a huge fan!

Well, Officer Duncan, it has definitely been a pleasure. Would you like me to include your name in the next one? he asked as he signed the book and returned it to the officer.

Really? That would be amazing!

Yes, he thought, it will be.

As he started back to the truck, the officer asked. Hey what does a novelist need a refrigerated box truck for?

With a calm smile, he responded. Well, come here, I’ll show ya.

The officer followed him to the back of the truck and he swung open the doors, revealing a sofa, table, television, coffee maker, and a few other commodities.

I hate hotel rooms. You never get any privacy, he stated. I spend too much time on the road researching. I’ve learned this works much better.

That’s just like the one in ‘Roadkill’.

Where do you think I got the idea?

You got a secret room in this one too?

With his calm smile and soothing tone, he replied. If you find it, I might have to make you a victim.

The officer let out a chuckle. Well, I appreciate it. Can’t wait for the next book. I’ll be lookin’ for my name in there. You travel safely. Thanks again.

Likewise, Officer, he said, admiring the irony and laughing at the officer’s ignorance. Officer Duncan, he thought, hope you like thrillers.

He finally returned to the highway. After a few miles, he decided to see what the radio had to offer so he flipped it on and thumbed through the stations. Hoping for something loud, and evil, he was disappointed to find only talking. As he began to turn it off, he heard a voice say something about New York City. He paused for a moment before turning it up.

"And Washington D.C….Again, reports have been confirmed that the explosions were indeed nuclear attacks…We have verified that several suitcase sized nuclear weapons have detonated in New York and Washington D.C….Initial reports are estimating complete devastation in New York City and surrounding areas. We will bring you further information on Washington as soon as it is available.

He flipped off the radio and sat silently astonished for several minutes, then exploded into furious rage. He punched the steel dash of the old truck over and over, as he screamed out an array of creative obscenities, blood pouring from his knuckles. I finally had the last fuckin piece, he thought. Seven fuckin years, a dozen fuckin novels, one fuckin hundred fuckin thirteen fuckin pieces, my fuckin masterpiece, and all that is left is that ignorant fuckin twat in the back. His mind went blank with disbelief.

Chapter One

Spring, 1913:

He sat quietly as tears ran down his face. The cabin seems so quiet, he thought, so bitterly quiet. Just then, a faint voice came out of the silence. He jumped up, startled, turning toward the sound, seeing only the emptiness that had replaced his family. The faint voice then sounded again as he watched the empty room in amazement. He studied the stone-faced fireplace, the rough-cut table that he had built the summer before, and the fire lit log walls, searching for the source of the mysterious voice.

"Who is