The Haunted Traveler December 2017 Edition

was covered in a Jurassic-sized spider web, as thick and heavily matted as his childhood
blankie. He wasn’t stupid enough to scream, but he wanted to so badly.
Suddenly, a dog’s painful wail emanated far down the road behind the truck, heard
unmistakably clearly over the truck’s running engine. Scott could see Gideon spin
around.
“Ax!” he yelled.
Scott’s heart caught in his throat as he watched Gideon stand in the road, head stuck
in the Ax’s direction. He looked unsure, as Scott felt earlier when Gideon and the devil
dog first showed up. Gideon spun around to the forest, then back to Ax’s howling, and
then back to the forest.
“We’ll see how far you make it, kid!” he screamed, shoving the pistol back in his
pocket. He limped back to the truck and hopped in, leaning his head out the window.
“Just remember,” he added, “I know these roads like the back of my dick!”
Scott watched as Gideon roared the truck into a U-turn, tearing up the road toward
Ax’s painful howl, the taillights dissolving into one solid orb of red light before fading
completely.
He scrambled out from the trees like a feral animal until he reached the road,
knocking off the spider webbing as he crawled to his feet. After quickly gulping a
lungful, he breathed out as he bent over with his hands on his knees, nearly dry-heaving.
His thumping heart ran a marathon as the rest of his body shook accordingly.
“Holy shit…holy shit…holy shit…,” was all Scott could say, repeating to himself.
A million thoughts and images and feelings and words raced through his mind all at
once. He didn’t know whether to scream or cry or shout in victory, or what.
He just knew he was alive. He didn’t care if he was fired for not making it to the
Brantley Hilton on time. Fuck it, I hope I am. I don’t know what’s worse, going back to work on
that Elkins project or getting back into Gideon’s truck.
The thick air was dead quiet save for the fading echo of Ax’s howl. For now, he was
alone.
All alone, and lost in the forest on a moonless night.
Prior to meeting Gideon and his Ax, this situation would’ve terrified him, but after
surviving the bad Samaritan experience with his improvised knife skills and window
jumping acrobatics, Scott was…
...well, still terrified.
Because he’ll come back. Gideon and his Ax, and they’ll be even more pissed.
He started walking very, very briskly in the opposite direction of Gideon’s truck,
repeating his mantra of “Holy shit…holy shit…holy shit…”
One day, Scott could possibly feel up for rehashing the night’s story, as a tall tale that
“you won’t believe, but I swear is true.” And it will sound and feel as bullshit and madeup
to him as it will to the people hearing the story, just as it should sound. But that day
wasn’t going to come if he didn’t make it out of the woods.
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