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Category:
Horror
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
ISBN-10: 1495240398
Type: Fiction
Pages: 600
Copyright: Jan 16, 2014
ISBN-13: 9781495240393
Price: $3.98 (eBook)
A grindhouse expedition into terror where the chance meeting of three young men with a band of mysterious fugitive women leads them into a nightmare of epic proportions.
Corey Somerset, Tim Hayworth and Lee Hunter have had one hell of a good night.
And it isn't over yet.
Celebrating their friend's birthday with drunken debauchery and intoxicated antics they've just stumbled through a mini-wave of mindless vandalism and though they've wandered far out of the realms of civilization they are keen to keep the party vibe going.
When they encounter a band of mysterious fugitive women who call a bizarre encampment deep in the woods their residence it appears a strong likelihood that continuing the party is on the cards.
But it won't come without a price.
The collective of unnerving lawless women are open to the suggestion but not without the threesome completing a request first, a seemingly straight forward barter proposition that will bring the boys face to face with something else that dwells in an unorthodox co-existence with the girls in the wilderness.
These are the Plebs and the shocking violent encounter the trio are unwittingly pitched into with these freakish feral fiends may be their first but it won't be the last.
As the shiftless young men become inextricably entwined and involved with the agenda driven dangerous women so too do their fates, with them unravelling killer secrets, duplicity, bloodshed and brutality along the way that encompasses not just them but more of their friends, new enemies and old enemies.
A simple night of bad decisions escalates and snowballs into an expedition of terror spanning all the way home and beyond with Corey and his friends engulfed in a nightmare where the lines between man and monster blur.
Depravity, death and destruction reign supreme and it isn't just the Plebs that want them all torn limb from limb.
Excerpt
Great mischief was afoot in the dead of night, much of it to be laid squarely at the stumbling feet of the three young and somewhat intoxicated men who came crashing through the bushes, jokingly insulting and taunting each other.
Corey Somerset, Tim Hayworth and Lee Hunter enjoyed themselves a great deal over the duration of the evening, a night which had been a celebration of debauchery and vandalism.
The event heralding the celebration had been a birthday bash thrown for another of their mates, Peter Molina, who was turning the ripe old age of twenty one.
The trio who stumbled through the woods, along with about a dozen of Peter’s other close friends, had booked an exclusive strip bar creatively named the Golden Thong where they'd spent the better part of the evening playing hardcore drinking games, ogling scantily clad attractive ladies and trying to humiliate Pete by foisting as many lap dances as he could handle onto him.
When the entire congregation had enough of the festivities and naked flesh inside the Golden Thong they staggered outside and broke up into splinter groups, each heading off their own way.
A bunch of the boys took Pete off to 'get laid somewhere', as one of them charmingly termed it, while still others went searching for twenty four hour bars to enable them to keep drinking.
Lee, Corey and Tim, all buzzing with a warm pleasant glow of inebriation, decided they would go looking for things to break, engage in some harmless vandalism or as Tim phrased it, 'give those fat ass council idiots some real work to do.'
So off they trailed, the troublesome threesome, smashing bus shelters, potted plants and other inanimate objects with gleeful abandon, leaving a trail of wrecked debris in their wake.
By the time they reached the outskirts of town they'd been yelled at four times, chased once by a big lout with a baseball bat and had to hide in somebody's front garden while a police cruiser drove suspiciously past, officers staring intently out the window obviously searching for three hooligans.
Now they were well past the outskirts of the town, bright lights and residential areas surrendering to nature, paving way for stands of tall trees and bush to line the road.
It was Lee who put a halt to their incessant jovial chatter, blurting an abrupt question.
"Hey, where the hell are we going?"
"Good point. I don't know." Tim conceded. "I do know there is a beach around here somewhere."
"Beach!" Corey scoffed. "It's a lake you dickhead. And it's just through that stand of pine trees there."
"Beach, lake, whatever. It's water. We could go for a midnight swim; it's a nice warm night. I only wish we had some more alcohol. All that excitement, running from the cops and whatnot, I'm starting to sober up."
"Ha!" Lee laughed. "You wanna get smashed and then go swimming? Lots of sense that makes. Bet if you had a car you'd get smashed and jump in for a drive wouldn't you?"
"Damn straight," replied Tim grinning foolishly. "They don't call me Tim the Risk Taker because I bang chicks without rubbers."
"Tim the Tool more like it." Lee shot back, giving Tim a friendly punch in the shoulder. "And first you have to find chicks to sleep with you, rubber or otherwise."
Corey stood quietly as the three finally stopped alongside the road, standing on the thin strip of gravel littered ground bordering the blacktop.
Corey was grinning madly as if he was privy to some secret joke the others weren't.
"What are you smiling about?" Tim queried. "Or have you just got gas?"
“I've got something else," Corey said mysteriously and then reaching inside his leather jacket he fumbled round in an internal pocket, producing a flat flask of Jim Beam bourbon with a flourish.
"Yeah boy!" Tim enthused, punching a great hole in the air. "You've been holding out on us."
"Shit, I just forgot to give Pete one of his presents."
"Fuck Pete," Tim chortled, his fingers flexing and unflexing as if they simply couldn't wait to be wrapped around the flask. "Besides he's off getting laid. Sure wish we'd gone with them hey?"
"Not even." Corey said. "They'd only be going to a brothel or something. Buying Pete the cheapest whore they can get. I've spent enough money tonight, like I wanna spend more on a prostitute."
"S'pose so," Tim nodded. "You gonna uncap that bitch and pass it around?"
"Let's go down to the lake first," suggested Lee. "Get out of sight from the road 'cause I have something else to keep this party pumping."
"Yeah?" Tim and Corey both looked interested. "What is it?"
"I'll show you at the lake. We going?"
"Food?" Corey queried curiously.
"No, it ain't food."
"Bet its chicks," Tim announced gleefully. "Its chicks ain't it?"
Lee stared intently at his shaven headed friend as if the fellow possessed two heads, neither of which contained a brain.
"Now where the hell would I be stowing chicks Tim?" He asked. "In my pocket? Midget miniature elven chicks? Are you serious?"
"Well you might have blow up dolls or something."
"Shit, you'd be the only one interested in blow up dolls."
"Maybe you've arranged some bitches to meet up with us down by the lake," Tim persisted. "You know, I wouldn't put it past you, I'm actually hoping you did."
"Well I didn't." Lee told him. "Wasn't I the one who asked where we were going? Think I'd be asking that if I had some girls waiting for us?"
"I don't know, maybe," said Tim sounding marginally disappointed that he wouldn't be seeing any mystery females waiting for them by the lake. "To throw us off the scent, you see."
"Tim, there are no chicks." Lee said with a note of finality in his voice as if to say conversations closed.
"If you say so," Tim said blundering on ahead of the other two, first to walk out of the thick stand of trees where the woods opened up around a wide lake.
As the threesome stumbled down a gently sloping incline to where the ground flattened out right to the edge of the lake they gazed out across the great expanse of water.
An almost full moon cast an unearthly sparkling glow of light over the top of the lake, dancing illumination as tiny breezes kicked up small meandering waves.
Other than these occasional drifts of breakers disturbing the waters the surface of the lake was entirely still and flat, looking like some giant pane of black glass.
A couple of picnic tables made of solid pine wood were located down on the flat plain before the edge of the lake and this is where Corey, Lee and Tim headed, observing that a parking area off to their right was deserted.
"We've got the place to ourselves," Tim declared unnecessarily, hauling himself up to sit atop one of the pine tables. "If only Lee's chicks would turn up this would be perfect."
"No chicks are turning up," Lee said, "but if you smoke enough of this you may be able to dream some into existence."
As he spoke he produced from his jacket pocket a large Ziploc bag which contained a number of white cylindrical objects packed with some green material.
"Haha, you little stoner you," Tim laughed snatching at the bag in Lee's hand. "Some good weed hey? Well that's certainly better than a stab in the eye with a burnt stick."
"Awesome." Corey voiced his approval as Tim helped himself to a marijuana joint. "Well let's smoke, drink and be merry."
Opening his bottle of bourbon he passed it to Lee who tipped it to his lips, taking a hefty swig and grimacing accordingly.
"Shit!' Lee exclaimed as the bourbon burnt a fiery path to his stomach. "Some coke certainly wouldn't go astray."
"Don't be a pussy," Tim snorted. "Drink it neat. Fucks you up quicker."
"What with the weed on top of it I'll think we'll be fucked up enough as it is."
With the joint hanging from his lips Tim was now attempting with minimal success to blaze the damn thing up.
He cursed as a slight breeze kicked up, snuffing out the flame of his cigarette lighter.
"Look out fool," Lee laughed, snatching the blunt from Tim's mouth. "Let the master show you apprentices how it's done."
He had the joint sparked up and blazing before Tim could even open his mouth to protest.
Taking two lengthy puffs he inhaled deeply and then let the sweet smoke trickle out in tiny streams as he passed the joint back to Tim.
"I see you've done that before," Corey commented sarcastically as he hoisted himself up on the table alongside Tim, fully aware of his friends’ propensity for the weed.
"Yeah once or twice,' Lee replied sprawling on the seat.
"We really need some music now hey?" said Corey to a murmur of assent from his two fellows.
"Ah well," lamented Lee. "Can't have everything I s'pose."
"True, true." Tim exhaled a choking cloud of smoke, handing the reefer to Corey. "Wonder how Pete's getting on. Bet he's doggystyling some blonde around a room full of mirrors."
"Half his luck. Honestly, after fooling around with those strippers all night I bet he was so close to blowing his load he barely got it in her mouth before he shot the lot."
The trio collapsed in fits of laughter then commenced to launch into a diatribe about the merits of the various strippers that had performed at the Golden Thong earlier in the evening.
As Corey and Tim debated over which of them had the best ass and the nicest set of breasts, real or fake, Lee was quiet, puffing on his joint and gazing out at the lake.
Something caught his attention, half hidden on their side of the water, under a low overhang of branches.
He squinted hard at it, wondering if he was stoned already or if the glittering moonlight on the lakes surface was playing tricks with his eyes.
"Hey boys," he addressed the squabbling duo. "Do you see a boat up there on the bank or am I just hallucinating shit?"
"Where?"
Lee jabbed his pointing index finger at the low hanging branches to indicate where he was looking.
Corey and Tim followed the trajectory of his finger with their eyes.
"Shit, you're right," Tim declared. "There is a boat. A little dinghy or a canoe or something like that."
"I can't see as good as you two," Corey said. "I just see a dark lump of shit on the bank under those trees. Might be a boat though."
"Let's go check it out hey? See if it’s lake-worthy." Lee suggested.
"Now there's an idea," Tim sounded delighted. "Row the little bitch around the lake smoking pot and pissing up. That'd be the joy for sure."
“Hell yeah!" Corey enthused.
As one entity the threesome scrambled off of their designated bench and loped across the treeless plain flanking the lake, heading for the half obscured vision.
As they approached the object Corey saw that his two partners were indeed correct.
A small wooden craft had been hauled right up onto the bank under the branches of a leaning tree, branches hanging so low that occasional breezes dragged leaves across the object.
The same tree had a length of rope tied around it, the other end attached to the front of the boat, securing it in place.
The boat looked to be in very good condition and was still slightly wet as though it had only been moored to the tree a short duration of time, perhaps half an hour or so before they arrived at the lake.
Twin plank like structures serving as seats occupied the boat, looking as though they could reasonably comfortably sit four people.
As Lee puffed on his joint, gazing with wary interest at the craft, Tim dropped to his knees in the sandy earth of the bank and began sweeping his hands back and forth underneath the seats.
"What are you doing?" Asked Corey.
"Looking for stuff." Tim replied obtusely, continuing to look unsuccessfully for stuff in the boat.
"Shit!" Lee suddenly exclaimed, jabbing the air with his joint as if it were some fat smoking finger. "There's another one!"
Tim and Corey bother glanced up, discovering that Lee was correct; another craft identical to this one was moored a little higher up on the bank almost ten or fifteen metres from their current location.
"That one's gotta have all the shit in it," Tim decided, vaulting to his feet and half jogging along the sandy incline to the newly discovered boat. "This one hasn't got anything."
Watching Tim repeat his boat searching maneuvers Corey began to feel a little paranoid.
Perhaps he was mightily stoned and the effects of the weed were beginning to induce paranoia in him, but he was certainly not feeling as confident and sure as he had been less than ten minutes ago.
Two boats, both with a capacity of at least four individuals seating space meant that very possibly there were eight people cruising around here in the woods, maybe very nearby.
Maybe they were hunters, loaded with high powered firearms and any second now they were bound to appear, very unhappy to discover three drunken young men fooling around with their boats.
Maybe they were drug runners trying to sneak illicit substances ashore away from prying eyes.
Either way, whoever they were Corey was willing to bet a small fortune that they weren't going to be happy to see their crafts being tampered with.
"You know," he said to the others. "I'm not so sure this is such a good idea."
"What do you mean?” Asked Tim who joined Corey and Lee at the first craft, a dejected expression on his features indicating the second boat yielded no more success with stuff than the first.
"I mean tinkering around with these boats." Corey explained. "There could be up to ten people hiding in these woods, watching us. I don't think they'd be too happy if we steal their boats and fuck around with them."
"I don't see anyone,” Tim said, glancing briefly around.
"Well that's the point. They could be anywhere. It's not like we're out on a desert plain with nowhere to hide. If they don't want us to see them we won't see them. I kinda get the feeling they're watching us right now and if we don't walk away from these boats we could be in some deep shit."
Now Lee began to look apprehensive, gazing back towards the picnic tables and the thickly forested woods beyond.
"That's a good point," he admitted. "These boats haven't been sitting here long. I bet their owners aren't too far away."
"Christ!" Tim spat in disgust. "Where's your balls you two? Pair of pussies. Forget the owners. It's not like we're stealing anything, we're just gonna borrow 'em. Where's the harm in that?"
"Lots of harm if the owners take offence." Corey said. "Harm to us."
Shaking his head and scoffing, Tim walked to the tree the nearest boat was moored to and began fumbling clumsily with the knot.
"Leave it Tim," Lee spoke up. "Corey's right you know. We best just leave these boats. If they're hardcore hunters or something..."
His voice trailed off and he stared pointedly at Tim.
"Hardcore hunters," Tim sneered. "They'd be driving a high powered speedboat with an outboard motor not a pair of wooden canoes. Shit, lose the conscience you pussies, we're only gonna go for a spin."
Corey suddenly froze, staring at the woods right up the bank of the lake beyond the second craft.
"Forget it Tim, they're coming!"
"What?" Tim snapped his head up so rapidly he cracked it on the low dragging branch hanging above the boat.
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