Mile Marker 88

"SURPRISE!" everyone shouted, as Trevor Jackson walked into the kitchen.

Several of Trevor’s friends and family members were standing around the kitchen table that was packed with gifts. In the middle of the table was a cake that had the words, Happy 16th Birthday Trevor, written on it.

Jake Jackson patted his son on the back. “Happy birthday, Trevor.” 

Trevor's smile stretched from ear to ear. "Thanks, guys!" He then looked toward his mother. "What gives, Mom? You haven't thrown me a birthday party since I was eight."

"On my side of the family, it's a tradition to celebrate reaching legal driving age," she replied.

He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Pretty sweet, Mom, thanks."

After a few minutes of mingling, the rip and tear of the packages and envelopes began. Most of the gifts from family members, that weren't gift cards, involved some sort of hunting item; camo hats, orange vests, gloves, etc. However, some of his friends gave gag gifts; a hat with antlers, a t-shirt with one deer humping another, and a box of camo-colored condoms, which brought the a round of laughter, caused his girlfriend to blush and a glaring from his mother as she waggled her finger.

The last gift to open was from his father. Trevor already knew by the shape of the package what it was. The only question—what brand and model.

"Is this what I think it is?" he asked his dad.

"Only one way to find out, son. Open it."

Trevor had had his eye on a certain model of hunting rifle since he was thirteen. He mentally had his fingers crossed as he opened the package. "Oh, man! This is totally sick!" Trevor exclaimed, as he rubbed his hand along the stock of the rifle.

His dad laughed. "I assume, sick, in this case, is a good thing?"

"Definitely!" Trevor replied. It was the rifle of his dreams; a lever action, Marlin 336C, 30-30, extra fancy, with a scope.

"I have another surprise for you," his dad said. "You’ll want to hit the hay early. We're going deer hunting tomorrow morning with a man from work and his son."

When the party ended, Trevor's girlfriend hung out with him for a bit to watch one of those horror/slasher movies on TV, and then she left shortly afterward.

After getting ready for bed, Trevor looked out the window. It was starting to snow. But it was so light, the only way he could tell it was snowing was by the street lamp illuminating the flakes that were falling within its cone of light.

His dad entered his bed room. "You better get to bed, son. We'll be getting up before the sun."

"I doubt I'll be able to sleep a wink!" Trevor replied.

"Well, give it a whirl anyway. See you in the morning, son."

Trevor turned out the light, hopped in bed and closed his eyes.

***

"Wake up, sleepy head!" his dad exclaimed, as he shook Trevor’s leg.

Trevor yawned. "Morning already? I feel like I just closed my eyes."

"Told you to go to bed early. We’re burning daylight."

Trevor looked out the window. "What daylight?"

After a quick kiss on his mother’s cheek, Trevor got into the old, flat-bed Ford truck, which was now his as soon as he got his license and could officially drive it. It may not have been the vehicle of his dreams, but it had wheels, a motor and was perfect for hauling the deer he planned on taking down.

“So, where are we hunting, Dad?”

“A place called Infinity Falls. We’re meeting Caleb and his son. He gave me a map.”

“Infinity Falls? I’ve never heard of it,” Trevor said.

“Me neither. But Caleb said the hunting was good. Keep an eye out for Hwy 13. We’ll turn there. Then after a few miles, we’ll turn onto a dirt road by mile marker 88.”

Trevor looked out the window and watched the road signs. It seemed funny, but as many times as he and his father had driven down the Interstate, he couldn’t recollect ever seeing a Hwy 13—but he’d never watched for it either.

The snow was starting to come down a little harder. Trevor knew it was a good thing for hunting. The deer would be moving, and they’d be easier to track. Suddenly, he saw the Hwy 13 sign. “Dad! There’s the turn!”

His dad slammed on the breaks, and as he turned, the backend of the truck fishtailed. When he gained control of the truck, he stopped for a moment. “Geez! That was close. The Highway Department needs to do a better job of marking the roads.”

“No shit!” Trevor exclaimed, breathing a sigh of relief as he looked out the window and down into the ditch they could have crashed into.

As they drove down Hwy 13, Trevor noticed a couple of dead deer along the road. To him, it was sad that the deer met their fate in that way. It was a waste of good deer meat that could be packaged and stored in a freezer.

He started watching for the mile marker 88 sign, but spotted no mile marker signs as they drove. “I hope we don’t have to drive 88 miles to get there. Don’t mile markers usual indicate how long a road is?”

“Normally, but not this time. Caleb said the turn would be about 10 minutes down Hwy 13,” his dad replied.

The drive down Hwy 13 was a bit eerie in Trevor’s mind. Some of the trees were bent or oddly shaped. The Weeping Willow trees that hung over the road created a canopy blocking out the sky and seemed to mimic a covering that would be over a bridge. “This road gives me the creeps, Dad.”

Jake laughed. “You watch too many horror movies, boy. I think it looks pretty cool myself. Something that would inspire an artist to paint. If it was daylight, you’d probably have a different opinion of it.”

“I doubt it!” Trevor replied.

He looked at the time. They’d now been on that road for eight minutes and he started watching for the Mile Marker 88 sign. Two minutes later, he spotted the small green sign with white numbers on it. But he had to turn his head sideways to read it. “I think that’s it, Dad. The sign fell sideways on the post. Instead of 88, it looks like, two, side by side, infinity symbols.”

“It does at that, son, and there’s the dirt road just beyond,” he replied.

The road was surprisingly smooth, but the trees still remained creepy in Trevor’s mind, and occasionally, he would see what looked like shadows running among them. He hoped those shadows were nothing more sinister than deer or harmless woodland creatures.

Trevor was relieved when wood ended and clearings appeared on either side of the road. A moment later, they saw a sign that read, Infinity Falls, 2 miles ahead. Along the way, he saw a few barns with white infinity symbols on them that seemed to glow in the dark.

Two miles later, they came to a town that looked like it could be inhabited by ghosts instead of people. In fact, as they entered it, they saw no people. It was just had rundown, old buildings that looked as if they were transplants from an old west ghost town. But just up ahead, they spotted a gray, Chevy truck in front of a building with a sign that read, Traveler’s Saloon.

Trevor’s Dad pulled up behind it and the two got out of the truck. Jake looked around and shouted, “Hello! Anyone here?”

“Jake!” exclaimed a man as he exited the saloon. He was followed by a teenage boy. “Glad you could make it. Have any trouble finding the place?”

“Na, piece of cake,” Jake said.

Trevor was introduced to Mr. Dicer and his son, Jeb. He shook Mr. Dicer’s hand, and he and Jeb exchanged a casual fist bump. Trevor learned that Jeb was older, but only by a few months.

 “Unusual place,” Jake said. “How did you find this place?”

“Believe it or not, I inherited it. I used to hunt here when I was my son’s age,” said Caleb. “It was in a family trust. Since Jeb and I are the last of the Dicers, we own it lock, stock, barrel, and” —he laughed— “any ghosts that come with it.”

“You all inherited a ghost town!” Trevor exclaimed.

“Yeah,” said Jeb. “Pretty cool, ain’t it. You like it?”

Trevor looked around. “Maybe—if I were a ghost.”

“Me and Dad are thinking about fixing it up as a Haunted Ghost Tour. We’ll make a killing during Halloween,” Jeb replied.

As Trevor looked around the place, he wished Jeb had chosen another descriptive word besides killing. Just the looking around at the dilapidated buildings made his skin crawl, and it felt like death, at one time, had already permeated place.

“Well, boys, let’s get moving,” said Caleb. “Hopefully, we’ll bag and tag dinner for a few meals.”

The four of them headed into the woods until they came upon an old deer stand someone in Caleb’s family had build years ago. But even though it looked old, it was still solid.

“Say, Dad,” Jeb said. “How about me and Trevor going hunting on our own? I know a great spot.”

“Fine with me,” Caleb said, “but it’s up to Trevor’s Dad if he goes or not.”

“I don’t know,” Jake said.

“Oh, come on, Dad,” Trevor pleaded. “You know I’m a good shot, and I’ve been with you enough time to know how to handle myself.”

Jake smile. “Sure. Go ahead, but be careful.”

Even though the woods were eerie, Trevor was excited to finally be able to hunt without his father for a change. He was hoping to bag a nice eight pointer, and in his imagination, he could already taste the deer meat that his mom would be grilling, stewing or roasting. Field dressing a deer was also a nonissue since he’d learned to do it at age nine on the first hunt with his dad.

Trevor and Jeb had been walking the woods for about thirty minutes when they heard a shot ring out. “One of our dads must have gotten one!” Trevor exclaimed. “Wanna go back and check it out?”

“And go back empty handed? Hell no!” Jeb bent down and felt a print in the ground. “Deer tracks. They’re fresh. Also, look on that tree. I see buck rubs. I bet a big one went by here recently.” He then stood. “There’s a blind up ahead near a clearing where we put some feed corn out. Follow me.”

Trevor followed Jeb, even though he would rather have gone back to see if his dad had gotten a deer. As they walked the woods, Trevor had an uneasy feeling that they were being followed. When he mentioned it to Jeb, he just laughed and said it was his imagination playing tricks on him. But soon, they saw the clearing and the old blind.

They went inside to get out of the cold wind that was blowing between the trees. Trevor looked out the window toward the clearing. Jeb pulled out a thermos and poured Trevor a cup. “This will warm you up.”

Trevor took a sip. “Mmm. I love cider.” He smacked his lips. “It has some sort of different spice in it, but still tastes good.”

“My mom’s secret recipe,” Jeb replied.

Trevor sipped his beverage as he looked out the window, but then, to his surprise, he saw a ten-point buck walk into the clearing. He dropped his cup. “Holy shit!” Trevor exclaimed in a loud whisper. “There’s a monster!”

“Can you get him?” Jeb asked.

“No problemo!” Trevor replied. He aimed his rifle and took the shot. The deer bucked, ran a few yards to the top of a small hill and then dropped like a stone.

“You got him!” Jeb shouted. “Sweet!”

“Wait till Dad sees him!” Trevor exclaimed.

The two ran from the blind into the clearing. When they got to the top of the hill, Trevor spotted one of those barns with the infinity symbol painted on it, but didn’t pay it much mind. His focus was on the ten-pointer he’d just taken down. 

When he reached the deer, he started feeling a little dizzy, but he just shook it off and bent down to field dress it and tag it. But all of a sudden, he really started feeling woozy. “I don’t feel so good,” he said. He went to stand but then felt a sharp pain to the back of his head and the lights went out.

When Trevor started to come around, he felt like he was in a warm, wet, cramped place. He tried to open his eyes, but they seemed to be held shut by tape. His hands and feet were bound as well. As his senses cleared, he also felt naked. Where am I? he wondered. Scared didn’t even begin to describe how he felt.

After struggling a bit, he was able to work his bound hands to his mouth and tear away the tape with his teeth. Next, he worked on getting the tape pulled away from his eyes. He then realized where he was. A small hole let in enough light for him to realize where he was. He was surrounded by bones. The rib cage of a large deer to be exact, and he was sewn inside it!

Trevor’s first inclination was to scream, but something deep inside him held back that instinct. But his second thought was to get the hell out of this deer’s carcass. He pulled at the threads that held the deer’s abdomen together keeping him inside. But soon he was able to tear it open. When he did, he fell about six feet and hit ground. He lifted his head and looked around. He was in a barn and when he looked up, he counted fifteen dead deer hanging from the rafters.

He wondered if other people were stuffed inside those dead deer, but he didn’t have time to find out. He saw the barn door open and heard voices outside. Trevor looked around for a place to hide and saw a stack of hay bales in a corner. He ran toward them and hid.

“Proud of you, son. Your first successful hunt by yourself,” Caleb said. “You’re going to be fine hunter for our people.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Jeb replied.

“Did your prey give you any trouble?”

“Na, piece of cake,” Jeb replied. “But why do we stuff them in the deer?” Jeb asked.

“We’ve found that deer carcasses tenderize human meat. It also prevents damage to that meat during transportation to our home planet. I can’t wait to get these back home.”

“Yeah,” Jeb said. “Mom makes the best human pot roast I’ve ever eaten.”

“And her barbecued leg of man—yum yum! She’s won blue ribbons for that at the county fair three years running. Now, come on, let’s go. You’re making me hungry.”

“When will the ships get here?” Jeb asked.

“Soon,” Caleb replied.

“Say, what about your man, Dad?” Jeb asked.

“Sorry to say, it bounced off the truck when I hit a pot hole in the road bringing it here. It fell in a ravine and died from the fall. I just left it in the ditch by the Mile Marker 88 sign. Man is only good to eat when it’s freshly killed. That’s why we use the paralyzing agent in the cider to transport them.” Caleb looked around at the carcasses hanging from the ceiling. “I’ve done my fair share of hunting for our people this trip.”

As Caleb and Jeb conversed, Trevor could feel the tears running down his face when he heard his dad was dead, and the horror of it all made his heart pound wildly in his chest. When the two aliens left the barn, Trevor came out from his hiding place and exited through the door on the other end of the building. He had no time to think about the people who may have been in those other carcasses. He had to get to that Mile Marker 88 sign and find his dad. He ran through the scary woods, which didn’t seem so scary anymore after what he’d just been through. The cold air on his naked body didn’t even bother him for the adrenalin pumping through his system. He didn’t know how far he ran, but he final reached the Mile Marker 88 sign. He saw the dead dear lying in the ditch and slid down the bank to check it out. He saw a man’s arm sticking out of the deer’s carcass and recognized the wedding band that was still on his finger—it was his dads. Trevor fell to the ground and started crying, then all of a sudden, the hand grabbed his leg. Trevor rose up and screamed.

***

“Damn, Trevor!” his dad exclaimed. “You scared the shit out of me!”

Trevor flopped back down on his pillow. “You didn’t do me any better by shaking my leg, Dad. I think I was having a nightmare.”

“I don’t doubt it, the way you screamed. What was it about?”

“I don’t remember much, but it must have been pretty scary,” Trevor replied.

“You watch too many horror movies,” his dad said. “Well, time to get up if you want to bag a deer.”

Trevor dressed, had breakfast and after kissing his mom goodbye, they headed out the door. “So, Dad, where are we going?”

“To a spot a Caleb, my friend at work, knows. He said there’s good hunting there. So, if you would, keep an eye out for the turn off at Mile Marker 88.