Literary Masters, Inc.
Publicists for Short Stories, Books, Poems and Songs
Long Island, New York 11971
By Melissa R. Mendelson
Monday, February 15, 2017
Rated "G" by the Author.
"We live in a dangerous time, and there are many species capable of brutal things."
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Chapter 1:
The country road was long.  Too long.  For any stranger, disorientation was guaranteed.  The trees went on forever.  
No life was seen.  The sky clouded and cleared.  An occasional speed demon would risk their lives and yours by dive
bombing into the opposite lane and then swerving right in front of your car.  It was as if the devil himself were
chasing after them, and then they would vanish into oblivion.
It was barely seven in the morning.  The sky was a grayish-blue.  The road was empty.  Just as tension took a
backseat, a speed demon flashed by.  Nerves tightened, but the music of Johnny Cash softened the blow.
“I hurt myself today,” the fingers drummed on the steering wheel.  “To see if I still feel,” the lips mouthed as eyes
glanced up into the rear view mirror.  My body jolted with rhythm and swayed from side to side, shaken from an
ugly, gaping pothole, and the fingers quickened their dance upon the steering wheel.  Today was going to be a good
A herd of deer plowed across the road.  A buck rammed into the cherry red Oldsmobile, sending the car spinning
wildly across the road.  Another buck leaped up and landed on its roof, dented it inward.  The car continued to spin,
knocking into another deer, which fell against the road, but a moment later, that deer stood up and ran as if its life
depended on it.  
“Fuck!”  He kicked open the driver side door.  “Fuck!”  He fell onto the ground.  His body ached and bled.  Blood
cruised down the side of his face.  “What the fuck?”  He fumbled with his cell phone, shakily withdrawing it from his
“Dale,” he cried.  “Dale, it’s me, Jerry.  Yeah, I know I’m late.  I was taking the back way.  Why?  Are you kidding
me?  Look, dude, I’m lying on the ground right now, bleeding.  Why am I late?  I wanted to take Baby for a ride.  I
just fixed her up, and the fucking deer beat the shit out of her.  Look, I don’t care.  I’ll work the hours.  I need you to
come get me and bring the tow.  Yeah.  I said, yeah.  Harriman Road.  You can’t miss the car.  Trust me,” and he
terminated the call.
Jerry rolled onto his side.  He pushed himself up, stumbling to his feet.  He wiped the side of his face, smearing the
blood across his skin.  He looked at his hand and then wiped it on his pants.  He looked around, but the road was now
quiet.  The deer were all gone including the one that he had hit, and his poor car was totaled.  It was amazing that he
wasn’t killed, and what the hell had scared them so bad?
A twig snapped.  Jerry’s eyes darted across the street.  All he saw were trees.  So many damn trees, but he could
feel eyes on him.  Was it another deer, or was it something else?  And then he realized that the hair on the back of his
neck was slowly rising, and he inched toward his car.  But his car couldn’t protect shit.  It couldn’t protect him from
the deer, and it certainly could not protect him from whatever was out there.
A heart wrenching sound was heard.  Jerry’s knees buckled.  He grabbed hold of the car for support.  It sounded like
flesh being ripped open.  It reminded him of those hunting days, and he leaned over the car and retched.  Wiping his
mouth, he turned around and slowly walked into the woods.  That sound was close, too close.
“Jerry, what the fuck are you doing?  Stay by the car, you idiot.  Stay by the damn car,” but he continued forward,
curious.  Was it a bear?  A coyote?  They had been spotted in the area, and the deer had every reason to run from
them.  What would he do, if he saw one?  He glanced down at broken tree limbs and rocks.
“Right,” he laughed at himself.  “Tree limbs and rocks.  Do you really think that is going to stop a damn coyote?”
The deer was lying on its side.  Was it the one that he had hit?  Its empty eyes gazed up at him.  Its stomach was
ripped open, and once again, Jerry threw up.  His hand shook as he wiped his mouth, staring down in horror at this
poor deer.  No.  No coyote or bear could do such a thing.  It looked like something with claws had just sliced through
it, but what the hell could have done that?  And then another twig snapped.
Jerry became rigid.  The hair was standing up on his neck and his arms.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw
something move.  They say that if a bear comes toward you, do not move.  Maybe, the same would go for whatever
animal was now standing right behind him.  His stomach tightened.  Blood dripped down his face.  Then, another twig
snapped.  Whatever it was had moved away from him, and Jerry finally relaxed.
“That was close,” he breathed out.  “That was close.”
A long, pink tongue wrapped around his throat.  It tightened, and he gasped.  His hands rose upward, and so did his
eyes.  And just as a scream tried to escape from his lips, he was jerked forward, violently, leaving only his sneakers

2017 Melissa R. Mendelson [All Rights Reserved]
NEW REVIEWS:  WOW! LMI lives! Thank goodness for Melissa. They were able to post a new work. Where have
they been for the passed 18 months? Anyway, glad to have a new offering by Melissa.  Can't wait to read the rest!
Good job, Melissa! ****__SU Chang

There are so many fine pieces by Melissa to enjoy. This represents a bright new addition. Strong and different Melissa.
And spooky with your signature. *****__Barbara A. Sabo.

I believe this may be the first SI-FI writing by Melissa. And it is a good one. I recognize the deer trouble, Totaled my
car twice during the passed four years in the norther woods. Glad I have Liberty Mutual Auto Insurance! They
covered both accidents 100% Nicely done, Melissa.****__Jean Ann Morgan