Apex: Dead Girl’S Play

By Kelly Coleman

When Chris fiancee, Suzie, is killed by a cottonmouth water moccasin, Chris sets out on a cross continent jeep trek for the Arctic Ocean (Alaska). It is a trip he and Suzie planned. But, now this solo trip is about closure, and its an obsession with Chris. Dangerous complications arise out in the west Texas desert. Crossing paths with a deranged predator and his small band of psychopaths, Chris winds up a prisoner. Escape would seem impossible and not to escape means torture, up close and personal, followed by an abhorrent death. It becomes a dance between the grim reaper and life-blood

In the shadow of the desolate Anacacho mountainsdesertpuma country. Surrounded by predators and the nonchalant cruelty, Chris may be suspecting this is the base Natural Order? PREDATION.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 12, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984513465

Book preview

PROLOGUE

SUMMER 1984. ISOLATED AREA S.E. BIG THICKET NAT’L PRESERVE, TEXAS.

The KID is 14 years old and chained by his ankle to a dead tree. This is out in front of a ‘salvage title’ trailer parked at a slope in the weeds and trash and garbage. The trailer is propped up by two wheels and some concrete blocks stacked under the hitch. There are no ‘tie downs’ underneath, no skirting, and a four-inch pipe runs raw sewage out the back about twenty feet to an open ditch. It stinks. The door hangs wee-wad by the top hinge. It’s hot. It’s humid. It’s really hot. Old tires are scattered about the grounds and on the trailer’s roof. Broken lawn mowers in the weeds. A dead red, yellow, and black banded coral snake is draped over a sagging clothes line. The KID is wearing too large striped boxer shorts. That’s all. The KID is pacing, out the length of his chain, barefoot, in a brief shade.

The trailer is rocking and the open front door has that loose hinge scraping the faded green aluminum siding. There’s an old cheap radio plugged in outside, secured atop the hitch.

The KID is hearing this same weekly ritual. SIS begging the OLD- MAN to let her go, not to drink anymore, etc. The OLD-MAN yelling at SIS to ‘drink it down’. Then SIS wailing.

The KID is sweating in the heat and humidity. The KID turns the radio up. Listening to the DJ talking about Texas born artists, talking about the current Waylon Jennings and the deceased Janis Joplin.

There is a long scream from the GIRL.

Now the KID is panicking. Pacing here and there. Stretching the chain on his ankle to its furthest length. Pulling it around and round the dead tree to which it’s fastened. Now and then, dropping to a dent in the ground, clawing at the dirt to dig down. Scanning all around. Giving up the futile effort. Roaming all around, as far as the chain allows. Staring at the trailer. Dropping to all fours and ducking below the trailer to crawl underneath. Into the loose dirt, bits of styrofoam, aluminum, and glass, and through the rusted cans and draping cobwebs.

Getting down flat on the ground, scooping loose dirt up to hide himself. Like a year-old shy pup, withdrawing to hide.

While his ‘FATHER’ is coaxing his older SISTER out of the motley trailer, the DJ is quoting JANIS: ‘Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.’

‘FATHER’, the OLD-MAN, is chaining SIS up outside now. SIS is naked except for a ragged t-shirt. ‘FATHER’ has a dirty towel wrapped around his waist. The DJ’s going on in that cheap, thin, metallic tone characteristic of old cheap radios, drifting off the station to more static.

The OLD-MAN glancing around for the KID, following the chain over to the edge of the trailer. The OLD-MAN picks up the dusty chain and starts pulling the KID out, pulling the KID’s leg out first, then the whole of the KID’s body, on all fours.

OLD-MAN

Get up Butthole, NOW…..Dog eat dog.

While the KID is getting on his feet, the OLD-MAN puts his hands on his hips, walking around looking at the sky as if exasperated.

The OLD-MAN walks over to the KID and pulls his face up towards his own with the curled index finger of his right hand. Leering, the ‘FATHER’ runs the tip of his left-hand index finger over the KID’s quivering narrow lips. ‘FATHER’ drops the KID’s head and leans down to unlock the chain looped around the KID’s ankle.

OLD-MAN

Law of the jungle kid. God’s

natural law. What is, IS. If you’re

not down, I’m not up.

OLD-MAN leading the KID through a labyrinth of degrading, rat infested trash.

OLD-MAN

Ever hear of the Big Bad Wolf

dumbass? I learned about the

African Serengeti on the TV. On the

Serengeti everything is preying on

everything else. They left man out.

I’m the Alpha wolf here in the

Thicket. Man preys on’m all. I’m

top of the food chain.

The ‘FATHER’ leads to the step (more like a narrow cigar tray) up into the doorway. ‘FATHER’ steps up. The KID seems to stumble. Barely looking back, the ‘FATHER’ gropes around to grab hold of his son’s arm. The KID comes back up standing on the dirt, gripping a rusty one-half a pair of large scissors. The ‘FATHER’ gets turned around, placing most of his weight on the steel step. A smirk of disbelief flashes across his face.

In a seamless action, the KID swings the crusty blade upward under the towel into his OLD-MAN’s genitals. The ‘FATHER’ lets go the howl of a wounded pig, stumbling down from the step. The KID has quickly withdrawn the bloody blade. And, as his ‘FATHER’ hits the barren ground, hunched over, both hands squeezing his privates, the KID stabs him in the side of his neck. Blood sprays out, pulsing onto the KID. The KID pulls back his one-half a pair of scissors and steps back. Too late. In a rage of fury, the ‘FATHER’ gets both hands around the KID’s neck, to choke him. The towel has fallen to the ground and the OLD-MAN’s legs are streaked with blood and blood is squirting from his neck.

SIS is here now. SIS bangs her ‘FATHER’ over the head with a length of rusty pipe, repeatedly. Sobbing as she hits her ‘FATHER’s head as hard as able. Even as the KID is choking, he is able to stab the OLD-MAN in the side of his stomach, several times. The BOY is still standing as his OLD-MAN loosens his grip on the BOY’s neck. Then, the OLD-MAN falls down in the loose dirt. Unblinking, staring at the bloodsoaked KID. ‘FATHER’ gurgles a laugh,

OLD-MAN

You think you’re an Alpha dumbshit?

The GIRL continues to slam his head with the pipe, and the BOY to stab him. The OLD-MAN dies.

BOY and GIRL stand and stare at the OLD MAN’s body.

The KID and SIS don’t look at one another.

KID

Law of the jungle. He’s down, we’re

going up. Up the food chain.

As dark oozes over the place, the radio station gets clear again. The station is back to celebrating Texas artists Waylon Jennings and the deceased Janis Joplin.

KID takes his radio off the trailer hitch. They gather up the bloody one-half pair of scissors, the pry-bar, food, and water. SIS carries her customized plaid bag. The KID and SIS walk away.

SIS

The gun makes the bag heavy.

KID

The gun makes us big and bad as

anyone. We can take what we want.

We’ll camp and hunt for a while.

Watch for coral snakes and

scorpions.

The two of them move out a dirt road under a wide panoply of shivering stars over the BIG THICKET NATIONAL PRESERVE.

KID

Waylon used to say, ‘I’ve always

been crazy, but it kept me from

going insane.’

CHAPTER 1

SUMMER 2015. 32 YEARS LATER. ON RIVER IN EAST TEXAS.

CHRIS has an athletic build, is twenty-seven years old, in thread- bare cut-offs and tennis shoes. He’s lazily paddling a canoe down a tree shrouded