Razorback Hollow Read online

  Razorback Hollow

  By Rene Moore

  This edition published by Rene Moore via Amazon KDP

  Text © 2020 Rene Moore

  ASIN #

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. In accordance with U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Cover Art by: Creative Designs Concept

  Edited and Formatted by: By the Hand Editing

  Acknowledgements

  My thanks go to my family, who are ever behind me in all my doings. Thank you to my furbaby, who knows how to force me off the PC to take a break.

  A big thank you to LK. Not only a wonderful author but one hell of a BETA reader and friend.

  Table of Contents

  Legend of Razorback Hollow

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Legend of Razorback Hollow

  Hush now, child, keep up that racket, and the mountain folk will surely swoop down with their pitchforks and steal you away to use you in stew.

  God saw fit to punish their forefathers for their evil, bestial ways, and the town was charged with keeping the monsters of the mountain away from the good folk of Razorback Hollow.

  So, say your prayers and be wary of those that carry an unnatural mark and keep your heart pure. If you come across one of the devils of the mountain, banish him as you would any filthy beast.

  Hush now, child, hush.

  Prologue

  He knew when he came in during recess, hot and sweaty from attempting to play their stupid games that there was going to be trouble.

  There was a piece of paper on his desk, and he felt anger ball up in his stomach. He knew what he would see, but morbid curiosity made him pick it up and look at it.

  They were drawn in childish hands and not spelled right but he read them just the same. The words seemed to leap out at him. To burn him just as they had every day before this school year.

  FREAK!!

  MONSTER!!

  HEY MOUNTAIN TRASH MEOW! MEOW! MEOW!

  Around the words were pictures of animals. Animals that were recognizable as rabbits, cats, and dogs, along with weird-looking squished faces. His eyes began to burn, and his throat filled with a need to bellow with rage. He crumpled the paper angrily. Did the other kids think he asked for this? That he picked his life?

  He couldn’t help that he was one of the mountain folks, and he wasn’t ashamed of it. In fact, he looked forward to the day he would live with his real family in the mountains, instead of just seeing them on the weekends to help them around the cabin. His maw was pregnant, and he was excited to have a little brother or sister to play with.

  For once, such thoughts didn’t comfort him, and he wasn’t able to swallow his rage as he had before. He couldn’t take another three years of this torture. The only thing he liked about school was the reading and access to books. They helped him pass the long lonely hours away from his home. He carefully set the ball of paper down. He was a big kid, and more than likely, he would grow to be a big man. He had not taken advantage of that.

  His tormentors would be waiting outside to taunt him some more and throw things at him. They were in for a big surprise. The beast was loose, and he was about to make them very, very sorry.

  Chapter 1

  It was too beautiful a day for dead people, thought Claire Amber as she waited nervously in the lobby.

  The sky was a gorgeous shade of blue, with only a few clouds to break it up. The Tampa skyline stretched toward the horizon, ready to embrace it. The bridge was alive with scurrying vehicles rushing back and forth with purpose.

  She remembered on the drive there, how pretty the water sparkled and twinkled in the sunlight as if to taunt the land dwellers sweltering under the sun. She was sorry she had to deal with the death of her grandmother on such a day. She had already buried her mother and father, and she had thought after the pain faded, she would not have to deal with the dead again. She shivered. Despite the warmth outside, goosebumps spread over her body as the air conditioner kicked in with a soft purr.

  When she received a letter from Daughtry and Daughtry Law Offices for an appointment, she was confused. Her grandmother, whom she never met until her mother’s funeral, had stipulated that she, Claire, needed to be in the office for the reading of the will. She strained, trying to remember anything her mother had said to her about her grandmother. Nothing came to mind, which seemed ominous.

  Claire never thought to get more information on this woman while her mother was alive. Now that she was alone, she found herself wishing her family had been close and gotten together for picnics and cookouts and to celebrate holidays. Claire fought with the depression creeping up on her. She was alone and soon to be homeless, now that both her parents were gone and there was no longer any kind of income.

  The door opened, bringing her mind back to the situation at hand.

  “Ms. Claire Amber? I’m George Daughtry, please, come in,” he said, extending his hand.

  She quickly stood, nervous energy making her slightly clumsy. She tried to keep her large bag from tipping while she shook the attorney’s hand. She took a deep breath, and with one last glance out the window, she followed him into the office.

  ***

  “But why did she leave it to me?” Claire stared at the attorney, who had just given her the news that her grandmother, whom she barely exchanged a few words with, had left an entire estate and the bulk of an impressive fortune to her estranged granddaughter.

  The attorney looked more than a little confused. He picked up the photos of the cabin and flipped through them quickly. It was a gorgeous piece of work. It claimed to have four bedrooms, two baths, three fireplaces, and a rustic hunting lodge farther along the property. The property itself was at the edge of a vast lake in West Virginia, with a boathouse and boat thrown in the bargain like sprinkles on a cupcake.

  The land alone would be worth a staggering amount. His face clearly showed what he was thinking: why was this woman not leaping for joy? This woman’s kin, Georgette Alma McCloud, had just made her a wealthy woman.

  He cleared his throat. “Ms. Amber. I don’t think you realize your good fortune. This property is worth a small fortune by itself if properly restored, and your grandmother also left you a tidy sum to help you do anything you want to this place…”

  “Except sell it,” Claire said, trying to run her fingers through her thick hair and doing nothing but freeing a strand here and there.

  She would have to rent it, w
hich she knew nothing about, and had heard nightmare stories of renters dealing with destructive tenants, or she would have to stay there herself. She glanced at the pictures of the cabin and winced. It was a beauty, she couldn’t deny it, but she lived her whole life in the city, and she didn’t know anything about country living. She’d never even been camping. To her, the woods were full of sasquatches on bikes, tearing into chunks of meat, and boogeymen in the guise of killers wearing hockey masks with knives for fingers. If nothing else, she knew it would require at least some roughing it to fully enjoy nature. At least more than drinking a Slurpee under a palm or watering her permanently droopy plant in the window, which was about as close to roughing it she knew how to do.

  It still bothered her that this good fortune was hers alone; she found it hard to believe there was no other family to leave it to, on her mother’s side, and her father’s only family were somewhere overseas. She lost her parents in a car accident, although her mother was already succumbing to cancer. She met her grandmother for the first time at the funeral, and she felt nothing but cold indifference from that old woman during the ceremony. Yet here, suddenly, she was dropping a fortune in Claire’s lap.

  There were strings attached. Claire could fix it up and rent it out, but she was forbidden to sell it. No reason was given, which made her apprehensive. Should she try to sell it against her late grandmother’s wishes, it would go to the state to handle, and she would get nothing from it. The fortune would also be taken away. She took a deep breath and asked herself if she even cared if her grandmother cut her off from this fortune.

  Her attorney sat back, and he appeared to study her, which made Claire cringe a bit. She wasn’t a pretty woman, but her looks tended to leave people staring at her. She inherited her father’s carrot-colored hair, and freckles covered her from head to toe. Her eyes were her one saving grace. They were large and gray, with thick lashes above a pert nose. She was vain about her teeth, so even though her mouth was wide and her bottom lip fatter than her top one, making her look as if she was pouting all the time like a spoiled brat, her teeth were clean and white and well taken care of. People told her she had a beautiful smile. Yet they always said it with smothered pity as they gazed at her freckled skin and red hair.

  Shyness and her looks kept her single for a long time. That and taking care of her mother off and on, through cancer she had since giving birth to Claire. It had gone into remission many times, only to appear someplace else, and the longest her mother had been cancer-free had been seven years. Those were the best years for all of them. Claire lost both her parents when she was thirty-eight to the car accident, and now at forty, she felt she was a bit too old to go running off to the wilds.

  Claire had never been married or had a boyfriend, save for one guy in high school. At the time, it had been more physical than anything else and left her wanting more. She had no kids, and now with her grandmother dead, no family. She was all alone and facing the streets.

  Except now, there was this… a miracle.

  “You’re not employed, are you, Ms. Amber?”

  She shook her head and looked at the floor, feeling her face flush, creating unattractive blotches on her skin. She’d foregone work to take care of her mom, and now getting back into the workforce was a Herculean effort. She possessed no skills, and while she had taken care of her mother over the years, she was not medically qualified to take care of sick people.

  Claire already started looking into shelters for the homeless in hopes she would find a place. However, she wasn’t disabled, she wasn’t battered, and she had no children. There was a real possibility she was going to be on the streets when the bank finally tired of her pleading and excuses.

  She glanced helplessly at the pictures of the cabin again. It didn’t look inviting. It looked hungry, as though it was waiting to swallow her up. She cleared her throat and tried to smile.

  “You’re right. It’s beautiful. I just never thought to move so far away.”

  “I hear the mountains in West Virginia are gorgeous,” the attorney said.

  He seemed to take pity on her, stood up and walked around the expanse of the desk, and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Look, Ms. Amber, my wife does work, flipping houses. She could get this fixed up for you using the smallest sum possible and make it livable if it should need any work. You have enough now to rent an apartment. Once it’s done, you can stay at the cabin for a while and see if you like it. If not, then simply come back to me, and I’ll help you get it rented out.”

  Claire looked up at him, cautiously hopeful. She straightened up without her usual slouch and watched his eyes widen as he looked at her tall frame. Claire stood 5’ 7”, and she was eye to eye with him. It was always a bit amusing to see men’s reactions to a woman taller than themselves. The long dress she chose to wear was too big, causing her to look like a large, black crane with a mop of reddish hair pulled into a bun. That dratted hair, which was unraveling defiantly in stringy poofs, was the bane of her existence. She knew it made her look like a child whose mommy couldn’t tame the beast.

  “Yes, that sounds like a good idea… only, well, I need to get moved somewhere else by the end of the week. My parents’ house, you know… it’s being sold…” Her voice was small and soft.

  She had the money now to buy it, but she didn’t think she could bear to live in it with its memories. Now seemed the time to let it go, along with her old life. This was a new start. A new life. Time to try to find her happiness if that was possible at her age.

  While he got the paperwork together and began to show her where to sign, she noticed the attorney changed the way he was speaking to her. She knew most people thought she was timid, and she gritted her teeth. Claire promised herself she would try to change that, too. She would start speaking for herself and go after what she wanted. Maybe even act spontaneously and foolish for a change.

  The attorney smiled at her sympathetically. He seemed to think she was less mature than her forty years, now that she aired her concerns in her little girl voice while looking at him with her large, sad eyes. It was hard to keep her annoyance to herself. It wasn’t his fault she gave off that kind of aura. The assumption might even be true, as Claire knew she had little experience in real life at her age. She knew how to take care of those she loved, and that was it. She prayed whatever was ahead of her would not be as much of a trial as the burden she carried up until then.

  “If you’ll just sign the papers and trust me, I’ll get you set up, Ms. Amber.”

  Claire sighed and nodded, wincing as a thick, wavy curl of red hair fell out of her bun to hang in front of her face. Perhaps going to a salon would be the first thing she would do after paying her bills. She didn’t know what they did in salons, but maybe she could improve her self-esteem and turn herself from a caretaker to a woman ready to take on the world and maybe find love. Ridiculous thought when there was so much else that was more important.

  Happiness, she reminded herself. She would look for it. She firmly grasped the pen and leaned over the papers, reading them carefully.

  “Thank you. That would be ever so much appreciated, sir.”

  Chapter 2

  West Virginia Mountains, twenty miles from the town of Razorback Hollow

  Eric stood plastered against a tree for almost an hour when the rabbit finally stuck its head up from its burrow. He wore clothes that were splattered in mud and rubbed in dirt. Eric was a big man, 6’ 11” and well over 400 pounds. He was so tall he almost disappeared when he leaned against a massive tree. One would think such a large man couldn’t easily hide, but he did.

  He carefully and slowly adjusted his bow, keeping the rabbit in sight at all times. If he could get this tasty little morsel, his family would have two fish, a rabbit, and three quails for dinner.

  The rabbit stood higher, looking around, and Eric let go, sending the arrow right through the rabbit’s neck. He grunted, pleased with himself.

  While he went to collect his prize, h
e recalled a story he heard about the gorgon, Medusa, whose appearance was so hideous, she turned all who looked upon her to stone. He almost wished his ugly face had that power. It would save him the time of hunting so he could feed his family. Still, if everything turned to stone when he looked at it, it was doubtful it would be good eating.

  If anyone deserved to be punished, it was him.

  Eric shook himself, eyes shifting back to the rabbit. He scooped up the prey and looked at it for a moment. It dawned on him he probably looked more like an animal than he did a man. His face was deformed, and he kept the lower half covered much of the time. He was told he looked like a beast from Hell. Each of his hands had at least one fused digit, giving it four fingers instead of five. It wasn’t grotesque, but it was noticeable. If he wanted to look on the bright side, it gave him the advantage of giving him a stronger, wider grip.

  As a result of his facial problems, there was a lisp to his accent, and he learned to speak carefully, giving him a deep, somewhat melancholy voice. If that wasn’t bad enough, half of his face sported a port wine birthmark, like a burn. Through some freak accident, it looked like he was wearing a red half-mask. He couldn’t completely hide that, and he spent a lot of time covering it with mud to help him blend in with the woods.

  He had thick, brown hair that was coarse, and to his annoyance, he had to brush it every day, or it became a bird’s nest, messy and wild, sticking up everywhere. He also had to constantly try to keep his sporadic facial hair under control or, as his dad so crudely put it, it looked like someone shit on his face. Eric always hoped his paw was being funny about that.

  Eric shook his head, stuffed the rabbit in his hunting sack, and headed home. He had a couple of miles to walk through mean foliage, and he had to be careful. The good people of Razorback Hollow had gone apeshit when their means of living had finally closed down many years ago. That was Eric’s thought, anyway.