Evil Dead: Deadified

Asmodeus

Certified Subdomain
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
MYTHICAL MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. Speed of Light
Writing Levels
  1. Douche
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
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RHRMM! RHRMM! RHRMM!

RHRRRRRRRRRRRR!

RHRMM! RHRMM!

RHRRRRR! RHRMM! RHRMM! RHRRRRRRR!

RHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!


Jake gave up trying to start the car. It had been fine the last two days, but now, tonight, it had decided to give up the ghost. The old jeep was gonna fall apart sooner or later, but why now? Why tonight? Must've been the drive up here - windy mountain roads and bumpy forest tracks must have damaged the old girl.

No matter. His friends would be arriving soon. He could get a lift with them to the nearest gas station and hire a pickup truck.

Well... maybe not the nearest gas station. People round these parts seemed to have a stick up their ass - all unwelcoming stares and inbred sneers, like they'd never seen a man in a suit before. The old timer at the roadside diner had even told him to 'go back the way he came'. Jake had told him his father was from around these parts, but that just seemed to make the man more unsociable.

Thank God for Google Earth. Not that the internet worked once he got to the mountainside, and he had zero bars on his phone.

Leaving his car, he headed back to the cabin and threw another log on the fire. The place had been a mess when he arrived two nights ago, but he had tidied it up with some furniture found in the outhouse. He had also brought plenty of food with him and restocked the kitchen. There were fresh sheets on the beds and the windows were patched.

Jake lit a cigarette, craked a beer from the cooler, and went back to examining his father's old bookshelf.


Somewhere.... somehow... he would find a clue to what happened to his father out here.
 
Mountain roads meant nothing to a tough old truck with fresh tires and an oil change. Diesel was the way to go around these parts. Gravel and dust flew once the faded red 1985 Ford Centurion found it's way off the paved road. Final destination same as when he had left the house with a freshly printed out set of mapquest directions. Straight on toward where he hoped this cabin in the woods stood. After all it would suck to turn up on some total stranger's property at random looking every bit a lost fool.

Evan felt his gut twist with determination to not let that happen.

For a moment though, he decided to pull over on the roadside to take a rest. Well-deserved in all honesty after driving across multiple states to get to Kentucky from South Dakota. The most recent non-stop marathon of driving had him clocked in around nine straight hours. After that serious amount of sitting on one's ass, just about any man would feel his legs crying out for a good stretch. No relief driver either. Evan made the trek all his own after getting the strangest thing in the mail: A letter from his old pal Jake.

A hand-written letter in the MAIL. Who really does that any more these days? Seriously who does?! Emails are so much goddamn faster. Especially for important shit like finding your dad! What the fuck Jack? It just feels kind of weird. The LETTER felt weird just holding it in my hand while I read it. Standing there wondering why you wouldn't post up something on Facebook about it that you would see about it right away. You got me really bugged, thinking about a city guy like you being up there all alone where your old man vanished. . . so here I come ready or fucking not.

The very letter in question clutched in his hand as he re-read it, pacing on the side of the road and looking every bit a lost fool. Though at least he didn't have a suit on to make him stick out like a sore thumb. Flannel shirt zipped up to hide a black t-shirt that read 'I Scare My Own Family' complimented by blue jeans and a pair of steel-toed brown hiking boots. Pretty much guaranteed to blend in with the locals. Though the actual intention had been to be dressed prepared for a search in the woods. So many thoughts running through his head. Unable to call his friend on the phone since Jack had not picked up in the last day and a half. But he would talk to him soon enough. Once he got back on the road not many more miles remained between him and this cabin.

A couple hours later he pulled up outside, leaving the engine running as he fiddled with some stuff inside the glove box.