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Living Legend, a suspenseful horror novel
Category:
Horror
Publisher: J.g. Pajot
ISBN-10: 1984276352
Type: Fiction
Pages: 144
Copyright: 2018
ISBN-13: 9781984276353
Price: $2.99 (eBook)
In a combination of current time and flashbacks to his ninth summer, Andy finds himself again facing the nightmare of those that want to kill him and Jack so they will be the only ones left of their kind. Andy does not have "special talents" like Jack, but he carries the gene.
Please note that the kindle formatting does indent for paragraphs. Not sure why it does not here!
When was the last time a book really left you afraid? Reach around the corner to turn the light on in that dark room afraid? Jack is back, Jack! And Andy Bloom is not sure that is such a good thing. Not that he didn't think the world of Jack. But the last time Jack showed up ... well ... "bad things happened". And Jack had "special talents". Special talents that defied everything Andy was told not to believe. And Jack brought news that the nightmare wasn't over. In a combination of the new terror and flashbacks to his ninth summer, when the whole horror began, Andy and Jack must defeat the final line of their nemesis, a pair of twins from the first monster, a guy who called himself Dwayne, but was really something else entirely. "F__, Jack! There was just one last time and look what happened. Now there's two of 'em? Dammit!" In a mixture of wry humor, suspense, and sheer terror, come find out if Andy and Jack can finally rid the world of those that want to destroy the last remaining rivals of their kind. To find out if good or evil will be the legacy of the living legends.
Excerpt
Prologue:
Miami Police Report: Dated Oct. 5
Trouble to be expected from one Maru, known drug kingpin. A new group has moved into his "district". As is our best knowledge at this time this new group is being headed by a pair of twins out of Chicago who go by the names Jaques and Cannis Lupus. It is suspected that these two and their rapidly growing network are responsible for the disappearance of well over a dozen of Maru's top dealers in the last three weeks. Given Maru's violent record, it is expected that reprisals will be forthcoming in the near future.
Miami Police Report: Dated Oct. 15
Gangland style hit at beach park. The Lupus twins and some companions were gunned down while having a picnic, all shot multiple times by automatic weapons fire. Preliminary reports show 9mm casings all around scene. There were five to eight shooters, depending on various eyewitness accounts. The suspects walked up to within approximately twenty feet of the table the victims were seated at and opened fire. Each victim was hit a minimum of twenty times and then were each shot in the head at point blank range. The obvious conclusion is these shooters were members of Maru's gang, but as of now we have no conclusive proof.
Miami Police Report Follow Up: Dated Oct. 16
Two bodies have been listed as missing from the city morgue. These are the bodies of Jaques and Cannis Lupus, approximate age twenty-four to twenty-eight, recent victims of a gangland style shooting. There was no sign of forced entry, so it is suspected that the parties responsible for the two's deaths may have bribed their way into the facility and stolen the bodies as a further warning to others that might challenge Maru's "territory". It is expected they will show up again, possibly mutilated, to emphasize that warning.
Excerpt from Florida Investigating State Trooper's Log: Dated Oct. 31
Very bad scene tonight. Was called to this old sugar plantation house on the edge of the Everglades by the local sheriff's office. A quick check showed this property belonged to one Carlos Maru, a suspected drug kingpin from Miami. There must have been some sort of high level meeting going on in the large upstairs ballroom, as there were many well known crime figures from the Dade County area present. All were found dead in various parts of the building, most upstairs.
Also dead were ten armed guards on the lower level, each having had an automatic weapon. All weapons were fired and most were empty. There were bullet holes all over the walls and ceiling. They had all been ripped to pieces. There was no sign of any perpetrators or effects they might have left behind.
Upstairs in the ballroom all victims had also been armed. Someone had put out the lights at the circuit breaker. Many of the victims appear to have shot each other in the dark and apparent confusion. Again all were torn apart, as if run through a meat grinder. There were limbs and severed heads all about the room. And Maru was found outside, his mangled body hanging in a tree where it had apparently been flung through a window. The tree was estimated to be twenty feet or more from the window.
Again, unless some of the victims were in on the massacre, which appears doubtful, there were no signs of the perpetrators. The blood and gore being as thick as it was, it cannot be ruled out that some of that could have been from the attackers, and they were careful to remove their own injured and dead, but again seems unlikely.
I noted that there were large animal footprints in the blood, the coroner suggesting they were made by some large dogs. Possibly part of Maru's defenses? And, panicked by the carnage, ran off afterward? Or trained attack hounds used by the killers? I'll let the lab boys sort all that out.
One other note. A Fed showed up, and I was told by the Sheriff that the guy was to have free range to view the crime scene. It made me uncomfortable because he did not seem at all surprised at the mess, and did not bother to ask any questions of the other officers and lab crews present.
All I caught of the guy's identity was his first name. Jack. There was something about him that made me uneasy, and it was not just his quiet attitude. Not sure what it was. Maybe just being spooked by the whole ordeal. And on Halloween night, of all times.
I did hear him talking on his portable phone, and what I heard sent a chill up my spine. I distinctly heard him say, "They're back."
CHAPTER I
Andy sat in the small living room of his apartment, kicked back in the recliner, basking in the warmth of the fire and watching the shadows it produced dance strangely about the otherwise unlit room. He could hear the wind howling outside and occasionally the fire would bank and flatten as if cringing from the onslaught of the premature winter storm that was gaining strength outside. He was nearly dozing as he watched out the window, nearly hypnotized by the swirling snow flakes which glimmered in the security light across the parking lot. It was Friday night and it had been a long, long week. Andy just wanted to sit and vegetate, maybe fall asleep in the cozy comfort of this small but unhurried world that was home.
His eyes had nearly closed when he thought he saw movement outside the window. Just a passing shadow, some poor fool walking down the walk, more than likely freezing their butt off and anxious to get inside where it was warm and dry.
The rap on the door was soft but shattered the peace and silence within the room so suddenly that it made Andy start straight upright in the chair, the foot cushion slapping back with a slam.
"Shit," he muttered, "Who the hell could that be?"
Another rap, this time slightly louder and more urgent.
"Yeah, yeah," Andy grumbled, knowing full well whoever was on the other side of the door could not hear him. "I'm coming."
Upon reaching the door Andy instinctively looked through the peep hole. All he could see was a shadowy figure in a long coat, collar pulled up to protect the head and face. And a hat. A fedora. It was too dark and the person was too close to the door to make out anything else.
The hair on the nape of Andy's neck began to rise and he felt a queezy feeling rumble in his stomach. There was something about that figure that made him uncomfortable. It was more than just the eeriness of the freak storm, the auspiciousness of this dark form on his doorstep. For a brief flashing moment Andy was nine again, and it wasn't cold at all. The smell of honeysuckle filled the air, and the sound of crickets and frogs made a background chorus to the flickering light show of the fireflies. The only thing cool was the dampness from the long grass he was lying in, slowly wetting his shorts and T-shirt.
Rap! Rap! Andy returned to the present, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck despite the chill air near the door. His stomach did a slow cartwheel. What on God's earth brought that memory out?
"Who is it?" Andy tried to keep his tone even, trying not to show the mix of irritation and growing unease in his voice.
The reply was muffled by the wind and Andy asked again, "Who?"
"Jack!" it was nearly a shout this time and it broke the wail of the wind like a runaway locomotive, slamming into Andy's consciousness almost hard enough to make him reel...
...the sound of something... something crashing through the reeds, searching... the crickets and frogs had fallen silent, the fireflies were gone...
"It's Jack, Andy," the voice mellowed. "Come on kid, let me in. It's colder'n hell out here."
... the crashing stopped, not more than ten feet ahead of him. Which way was the wind blowing? Shit, which way? He could hear the breathing ... harsh, panting, raspy, like the wind blowing through... the wind...
... the wind nearly snatched the door from Andy's hand as the trench coated figure nearly dove through the doorway and past him into the room. Andy stood, dumbstruck, the door still wide open, snow swirling in around him, looking like some moronic Christmas caroler with mouth agape but no sound coming out.
"Jeez, Andy," Jack stepped forward, grabbed the door, and slammed it shut. "Jeez! Colder'n a whore's heart out and there you stand, door and mouth wide open." Jack flopped the raised collar of his coat down and pulled off his hat. A mane of shoulder length dark hair tumbled out from under the fedora and settled into a shaggy carpet over the shoulders of Jack's coat. A few tenacious snowflakes lingered on his arms, flickering in the firelight like fourth of July sparklers as they slowly melted.
"Better close that yap, kid," Jack chuckled, his grin showing some large teeth behind his thin lips. "You're gonna catch flies in that thang!"
Andy snapped his lower jaw up mechanically but kept his gaze fixed on Jack's face and that unnerving grin.
"What?" Jack laughed, turning to go all the way into the room. He sauntered over to the fire and put out his hands, rubbing them together in the warmth. "Speak up boy. What?"
... the crunch, crunch of the footsteps, ever so slowly drawing nearer. The rustle of the reeds as something crept through them. He clutched the object in his hand so tight his knuckles ached. His heart was beating thunder in his ears...
... "You with me, kid? I know this is a shock, but I was hopin' you'd be glad to see yer old buddy Jack."
... the moon, which had been nearly full, had been lighting the field with a ghostly silver pallor, making the dewdrops on the tall grass sparkle with faint, dancing spheres. Now the light seemed to be fading. Andy, still clutching the hilt of the dagger with knuckle numbing force, glanced warily up, expecting to see a large shadow looming above him. Instead he saw the moon being swallowed by a huge mass of darkness, edged in silver by the light of the moon that was rapidly disappearing behind it. The wind increased with a sudden burst, shoving the reeds halfway over in its chilling breath. Off in the distance there echoed a deep rumble.
Andy felt like crying. This sucked. It sucked big time. How had he ended up in the middle of all this anyway?...
"Damn it, Andy," Jack's voice was still jovial but a hint of impatience was now slipping in. "What the fuckin' hell is wrong with you?"
Andy shifted on his feet. The blank stare on his face faded as he slowly returned from the past. The warmth from the fire seemed suddenly overpowering and the room incredibly small. He looked at Jack and really saw him for the first time since he had entered the apartment.
"Shit, Jack," was all he could think to say.
Jack's face was not quite right. His eyes seemed somehow slanted, the blue in them far too deep. And his nose seemed somehow too long. When he smiled those impossibly thin lips peeled back to reveal teeth that were unnaturally large. And it was obvious he had not shaved in quite some time.
"What?" Jack grinned, those ivory teeth shining an orange yellow in the flickering firelight.
"What your ass," Andy finally got his composure back. At least most of it. He had mixed feelings. In a way it was great to see Jack again. Of course Jack had not changed a bit in all those years, and this was no surprise to Andy. Andy knew why. He had always liked Jack, even admired him. Even after all that had happened all those years ago. He remembered what his brother Lance used to say about Jack. "What can you say, Spud. ( Andy's nickname back then to family and friends.) Jack is Jack."
Yeah. Jack is Jack, and Jack is back, Jack. Andy shuddered. The other side of the coin was that the last time Jack was around the world (or at least Andy's world) was turned upside down, inside out, and all the things Andy did not want to believe in suddenly became real.
And now here he was, standing in Andy's living room dripping melted snow all over his carpet, grinning for all the world like some crazed ax murderer in a cheap "B" horror movie.
"Why don't you take off your coat and be comfortable, Jack?" Jack mocked Andy's voice sarcastically. "Pull up a chair, ole buddy. What's new with you?"
Andy chuckled. Jack was, after all, Jack.
"For sure," Andy said, moving forward to take Jack's coat. He carried it into the bathroom and slung it over the shower curtain rod. As he returned to the living room Jack plopped into one of the two big recliners with a grunt, his hair falling across his face. Jack brushed it back and stared into the dying embers of the fire.
"I'm gettin' old, ole buddy," Jack sighed.
Sure you are. Like hell, Andy thought.
"Got any brandy, kid?" Jack inquired, looking up at Andy with those eerie, bottomless blue eyes. One ear poked partially through his hair where he had brushed it back. Andy took a deep breath and stepped back. The ear was elongated and slightly pointed on the end.
"Sure," Andy replied, trying not to let Jack see how unnerved he was by the revelation he had just had. "I'll get us both one, old man."
When he returned, a snifter of the golden liquid in each hand, Jack was again staring into the fire, which was now gaining strength from the two new logs Jack had tossed on while Andy was in the other room. Andy handed Jack one glass, then sat down in the recliner across from him. For a few moments there was silence as Jack raised the glass to his face, sniffing it slowly, then nodding his approval as he took a slow, deep swig of the brandy.
Andy noted how the drink seemed to actually capture the glow of the fire within it. That was better than dwelling on what he now knew was happening with Jack.
"I guess you noticed I'm making the change?" Jack finally approached the subject. "Things are happening, kid. Bad things..."
Bad things? Andy knew about bad things. The last time Jack was around bad things had happened. Lot's of bad things...
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