Road Games

Scott Spaxckey

Description

A collection of six short stories with a travel theme; a perfect companion for the train, the plane or road trip. Road Games happen on the road, in the air, the open sea and in the uncharted territory where the twilight meets the horizon.Odd & sensual occurrences, Sociopaths & surreal happenings.1. Vanishing Point: leads the way as an old and eccentric couple drive to the end of the road.2. Instruments of Torture: takes us to the Caribbean where two mobsters thrill in creative ways of torturing captors that include garage tools, cooking condiments and deep sea predators. Will Brad give in to the torture and tell them where the sexy Kate is with the stolen money? Does he even know where she is?3. The Back in the Back: Nine year old Brian teases and torments other travelers of the road, until one day he is tormented to trauma as the sole witness to a psychopath's rampage of murder with a carpooling fetish. 4. Skyline: Dynamic, in love and enveloped in their own secret world we walk the canals of Naples but in Long Beach CA! This ethereal duo talk about life and mystery; an entertaining and well crafted anecdote not really about anything at all. A bit of long form poetry with an enigma: are these two immortal beings? Extraterrestrials? Phantoms from another dimension? Readers enjoy the dimensional feeling of this pleasant, romantic episode.5. Over Your Shoulder: reminds us to never look back as a man escapes harrowing disaster at 35,000 feet on his flight home, only to have the terror truly begin upon landing. 6. Luzia Blanco: A Sensual adventure of vacation in Mexico. Mishaps on a cruise ship, high speed driving, exotic dancers and a shoot out at the tavern.7. Country Killer: Ben and Melanie are sweet newlyweds with an adorable young son, Benny Jr. and a baby on the way. Ben takes a cross-country trucker job to provide for his new family, bonding with a fellow trucker as they try to stay one mile ahead of the Country Killer. 8. Another Perspective: The old and peculiar couple from Vanishing Point close the collection with another surreal experience in Another Perspective.

Sujets

• Thriller

Informations

• Publié par: Primordial Productions
• Date de parution: 15 juillet 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781912643813
• Langue: English

Extrait

ROAD GAMES
 
Bizarre Stories — Curious Tales
 
 
 
By
Scott A Spackey
 
 
Copyright © 2018 Scott Spackey &
Primordial Publishing
All rights reserved.
 
ISBN: 13: 978-0692435496
 

 
 
 
 
 
Road Games happen on the road, in the air, the open sea and in the uncharted territory where the twilight meets the horizon.
Sociopaths, odd occurrences,.
Psychopaths, surreal happenings.
 
 
 
 
Forward by the editor:
 
Road Games stories were inspired by real life experiences.
Scott spent time in his 20s as a cross country truck driver with long hours of solitude in the cab of a truck, sleep deprived and hypnotized by the road. He has also travelled the world having been to 13 countries and rarely visiting the tourist sites, preferring the roads less travelled. Long hours on planes, in cars and in airports allowed him to concoct bizarre scenarios in his head to pass the time which became irresistible stories he had to tell. Scott has included an afterward at the end to share with you the actual inceptions of these tales and how much of each one is actually true. Very little of Scott ’ s fiction is purely fiction as it is all layered with events from his personal experiences and none of Scott ’ s nonfiction work is even exaggerated, as outrageous and supernatural as some of it may seem. 
Scott was reading novels by five years old and was always looking to be shocked, scared and moved. He wanted his reading to be more than mere entertainment but to be an actual experience. He was often disappointed in stories that had no pay-off or twist at the end. He said in an interview, “ I write what I like to read . I have been inspired by such great writers who delivered great stories with impactful conclusions that I have nearly impossible standards to live up to making me unwilling to settle for less from myself . ”
Trying to be even worthy of writing his author heroes names has motivated him to carefully craft his writing to come within the circumference of the genius ’ that inspire him.
A few of Scott ’ s fiction inspirations are Ray Bradbury, The Twilight Zone, Stephen King, Anne Rice and Charles Beaumont for his sci-fi, horror work and Steinbeck, Hunter Thompson, Kerouac and Woolf broke down barriers for him to find his voice as an author. His poetry idols are Tennyson, Blake and Neruda, an eclectic blend of influence, making his poetry pure, no-rules, raw expression of his spirit. Stephen King once said that you should write as if you ’ re writing to a particular someone you admire and that this will motivate you to be your best to impress them; a muse. Scott writes to a muse who holds him to very high expectations. He has never disclosed who exactly that muse is and there is a betting pool as to who it might be!
Scott wants to share stories that entertain but also take you somewhere and fill you with a need for adventure and the extraordinary. His favorite compliments as an author are when a reader tells him his work has invoked such longing in them it is difficult to bear. Road Games will entertain you and also invoke a longing in your spirit for adventures.
Road Games is an unconventional collection: stories of murder and dark phenomena fused with passion and sensual romance and adventure. Scott refuses to remain within the confines of one genre so these bizarre stories and curious tales are a blend of odd occurrences with sensual and surreal happenings.
Buckle up.
CCB — Media Manager, Editor,  Primordial Productions
 
 

Table of Contents
Title Page
Road Games happen on the road, in the air, the open sea and in the uncharted territory where the twlight meets the horizon.
1. Vanishing Point
2. Instruments Of Torture
3. The Back In The Back
4. Skyline
5. Over Your Shoulder
6. Luzia Blanco
7. Country Killer
8. Another Perspective
Afterward by the Author

1. Vanishing Point
VANISHING POINT
 
Miller and Jean were in their seventh hour of traveling, far beyond city limits, on a road seemingly disconnected from modern America, a souvenir from another decade — possibly the same decade as these pilgrims. Miller ’ s leathery face bore the creases of seventy-eight years working a farm in Oklahoma. He and Jean had been married so long that audible speech was rarely required; either each knew what the other was thinking, or they had stopped caring long ago. Miller liked the world better with his hearing aid turned way down low. If he hadn ’ t heard something by now, he probably didn ’ t need to. Jean hadn ’ t said a word in over three hours.
The old couple stared through the windshield of their ’ 62 Buick at the long, straight road before them. The map told them that the road would take them to Albuquerque, where their little angels — their grandchildren — were. Miller and Jean didn ’ t get around much anymore. They mostly spent their days in the TV room of their comfortable house, leaving its sanctuary only occasionally for visits to doctors and the local pharmacy. This was the first time the couple had been more than fifty miles from the farm in nine years.
I-40 ran through their home state of Oklahoma, across the Panhandle of Texas, and on through New Mexico, where Albuquerque hung like a frozen pendulum from the state ’ s capital of Santa Fe. The map showed a nearly straightedge-perfect route for the highway, a one-dimensional blue line that implied hundreds of miles of road that terminated in a place called San Bernardino in the cow country of Southern California. Though it was only 360 miles from their farm in Custer County to Albuquerque, it was a two-day trip for these old-timers. Their arthritic tendons restricted their fifty-miles-per-hour driving to a cumulative four hours a day, and even those four hours of driving had to be broken up with stops at roadside eateries like Stuckey ’ s for sodas and sandwiches, a Kachina doll for Anne, a cowboy six-shooter for Andy, and pecan logs for anyone brave enough. By the time evening was upon them — to them, evening meant 4:00   p.m. — their arthritis and the possibility of irregularity and other senior ailments and aches wreaked havoc on their old bodies.
They hadn ’ t had a rest stop for some time now, and they were about due. Jean had begun shifting in her seat about twenty minutes earlier, although Miller did everything he could to pretend not to notice. Old Miller just sat up taller in his seat and moved his head closer to the windshield, his nose almost touching the fraying vinyl wrap on the Buick ’ s steering wheel.
“ Well, ” said Jean. It was several moments before she uttered another word, but it was impossible to tell whether she had nothing more to say, had forgotten what she ’ d intended to say, or had just forgotten that she ’ d started speaking in the first place. “ There ’ s somethin ’ you don ’ t see every day, Miller. ” When her husband didn ’ t respond, she stared at him, waiting.
Miller kept his gaze fixed on the highway ahead.
Jean continued to stare at him with a growing intensity as a full minute went by. Still Miller said nothing. “ Miller! ” she shouted in her weak voice.
Even with his hearing prosthesis turned almost off, Miller heard Jean ’ s wail, like a dog whistle that only he could hear. Miller had dedicated his senior years trying to tune into another frequency where Jean could not broadcast. “ Huh? ” He jerked at the sound. Finally, he grumbled, “ Whaddya say? ”
Jean shouted, “ I said, ‘ Now, there ’ s somethin ’ you don ’ t see every day! ’”
  “ Okay, okay. Don ’ t yell. I can hear you, old woman. ”
Jean still stared at Miller, but he inquired no further. She waited, growing more agitated. “ I said, ‘ Now there ’ s somethin ’ you don ’ t see every day, ’ Miller. ”
“ What ’ s that, Jean? ”
“ We haven ’ t seen another car on this road since we stopped at that Stuckey ’ s, two hundred miles ago. ”
“ Hmm. ”
“ Well, that was over three hours ago. Don ’ t you think that ’ s strange? ” she asked.
Miller said nothing. He didn ’ t know if hers was a rhetorical question. It wasn ’ t.
“ I said, ‘ Don ’ t you think that ’ s strange? ’”
“ Well, what the hell ’ s so strange about it? ” asked Miller. “ All that means is that no one ’ s seen us, neither. ”
What? What the hell does that mean? Jean thought that all that standing in a cornfield had really rusted the old man ’ s mind.
But it was strange. They were on an interstate highway that went through four states and met up with the always-busy I-10, yet they hadn ’ t seen even one other traveler for over three hours. They had spent the day traveling through the Texan deserts, and they should now have been just about fifty miles from the Land of Enchantment border. Surely there should be someone else traveling to or from New Mexico?
The highway ahead and behind was so straight and so flat that the old couple could see it stretching out before them as far as their eyes would permit, which was admittedly not very far, but still … they could view the open road all the way to the horizon, where it appeared to come to a very