Chevrolet silverado single cab

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A rule breaking truck driver takes a forbidden detour.
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Don't Feed the Pumpkins
I'm typing this as a record of what has happened to me. If someone should find me out here, where ever here is, this is what happened and who is responsible. Also, out of the dozens of vehicles bogged down in this field, mine is the Blue Jay 2013 Freight Liner. If I should die and it is recoverable, it should go to my son, John Grainger in Antioch, Illinois.
I left Litchfield Illinois around 2pm on Halloween with a last-minute load of pumpkins destined for the Antioch Walmart. Despite the fact I was once that told Illinois is the #1 pumpkin producer in the country the itself state appears to be in the midst of a shortage. I was due in about 8pm, but I was trying get in by 6pm and after unloading, I was going to visit my wife Carly and my son for Halloween. It was going to be the first Halloween in my son's life that I was going to be there for trick o treating. My wife was making a big deal out of it and John was 10 now, so, she said he would be “scarred with disappointment” if I didn't show now. So, I probably should have gotten better sleep the night before and sue me, I was gear jamming and popping go-pills like popcorn. Don't look down on me, don't be fooled, this is just the nature of the trucking industry. Everyone does it and I'm not afraid to tell it like it is.
Just after Normal on 39 I hit a wall of traffic. I could hear on the CB that there is a hazmat incident up ahead and they require special teams to clear it off. I, like the other truckers, get to gabbing on the radio, looking for shortcuts. To my surprise, after scrutinizing this route several times before, I was informed about a “gutshot” shortcut just ahead that could get in me into my destination at least an hour earlier, even with the fact I had sat in the backup for at least 45 minutes at this point. A second comrade in gears piped in and stated that the shortcut was closed. The first driver contradicted him and stated, he had used it two weeks ago, it was wide open country land you could go 70 the whole way, and the only town along the way had burned down in an industrial accident 30 years ago. The second trucker chimed in again. He said it was closed for tonight and only tonight and not to use it. I disregarded the second trucker, exited the interstate and followed the directions of the first trucker.
Well, Carly, you always said it would be this way. You always said, I needed to learn how to follow directions to not cut so many damn corners all the time. You always told me didn't put in the work, and the funny thing is, for the first time, on this drive, get there, I did. Sure, I cut all the corners, but I wanted to to put in the work. But you're right, I never put a second of effort in, and if this is how it ends, I suppose you're right, I never will. But I guess, one way or another, you're getting what you've wanted, what you text me, what you don't tell me about, and what I didn't care about. I was coming home for him and damn it, I know it won't hold up in court but I want my boy to get the damn truck!
Anyway, I found the road, 2 lanes clear to the sky, surrounded by corn and then pumpkin fields forever. My straight shot, I pushed 80 the whole way flying on cracked asphalt, diesel, and go-pills. Ahead, there were barricades and I applied the brakes and barely stopped in time. I got out and saw they were chained up with a padlock to concrete posts in the ground. In theory, I could blast through them but I would sustain serious damage. The ground was a bit wet so I didn't think I could cross the ditch and field and not get stuck either. The barricades were not official in the least. They had a sign on them made out of it mailbox stick-on letters which said: “Do Not Feed The Pumpkins”. As far as I could see from my cab and binoculars, there was absolutely nothing wrong with the damn road. I said hell and I knew it would take hours to reverse course and get back in time – in time to even unload much less make it in time to go trick o treating.
And I said it wasn't worth it. I didn't bother to call. I'd just show up now. Because it wasn't my fault. So I started back, turning around with great difficulty. I traveled back 2 miles and saw small signs for a rest area. I must have missed it the first time, too deep into the zone I suppose now. I needed to pee and probably eat a bit before starting a roundabout way back, so I stopped. It was a little old 2 story joint with a small dinner on the 1st level and looked like 4 or 5 small motel rooms on top and oddly an outhouse for a restroom. I want to emphasize the outhouse because that is how you'll find and catch this guy, the guy who did this to me. It was Bill Shaw of Shaw's Shack, who did this to me. It had a sign with the building, it too was made of stick-on letters and vaguely resembled a huge ransom note. It read “Yes! We are open! We are the only rest area for 67 miles and 1 of 2 “tombstones” for the late great town of Pumpkin Grove Illinois – the former pumpkin capital of Illinois. Ask Your host, Bill Shaw about the Pumpkin-beef-bean stew!
The parking lot had three vehicles in it, not including my own, a silver Prius, a grand cheeroke with wood panels, and an older model chevy pick up truck. I went inside. The dinner was small, set in a rustic décor with old license plates nailed to the walls. The cafe had eight counter seats and two smaller tables near the two windows. There were two witnesses to what happened that night, to what Bill Shaw did – at least partial witnesses. There was the older man with stringy white hair and octagonal glasses – unfortunately, I didn't get his name. There was that irritating millennial – All I remember is the metal crap in her ears and lip. Hell, if I die and John starts ever pulling that crap, I'll come back and haunt the crap out of both of you. Anyway, now, I wish I could remember their names or something else about them to put here. I didn't care about either one of them enough to remember.
I guess that goes for Shaw too. He was a bit taller as sometimes I couldn't see his face while sitting at the counter because of the low lights in the ceiling blocking his face. He had gray hair. Hell. That's it. Anyway, the old man said he was part of a historical society, said he spent the better part of his past two years tracking down anyone or anything about Pumpkin Grove. The college student – of course – it was college student said she was from the school newspaper, looking for a spooky story. When she asked me where I was from, I didn't respond.
Shaw came from the kitchen with two big bowls of the famous Pumpkin-beef-bean stew for first two. He seemed taken back by my presence for a bit before saying “howdy” and trying to get real friendly with me. He asked what media I was from. I told him I wasn't from no media and I was trying to get through the barricade up ahead. Neither of the other two seemed to know about the barricade. Shaw said he didn't know anything about it either. I was suspicious of him then because of the lettering on the signs. But I didn't push it. I wanted to eat and he said my choice was the stew or stew. So the stew seemed fine. He said he wished he had more time to chat with me but he promised to tell the story of Pumpkin Grove to the two others but I was welcome to listen and ask questions. I didn't say it but I couldn't care less, I was going no where fast and I needed to eat.
He started off by saying he and his wife are among a handful of survivors of the fire that consumed the town of Pumpkin Grove some 30 years ago on Halloween night. Then his story descended into a cross between a rambling fading nightmare and a ghost story. He said, without hesitation, fear of consequence or remorse that he was accessory to a murder in his childhood. Specifically, some 40 years ago, again on Halloween, he was friends with a small group of young men including one named Donnie, who was a little slow and had a slightly misshaped head. He was picked on a lot by the Gerst Brothers, notorious town bullies and teenage thugs of a bad seed thanks to their neglectful alcoholic single father. Long story short, he said, the Gerst Brothers lured Donnie, himself and another 2 boys out to a pumpkin field where they gave back Donnie's missing dog. Apparently they kidnapped the dog and wrapped every inch of it in duct tape a few days ago. They watched us try to peel and pull the duct tape off while the weakened, hungry, and thirsty dog whimpered away its last in the field. Unbeknownst to any of us, Donnie had a pocket knife and he lost it as the Gerst Brothers cackled around him and the dead dog. He leaped up as they laughed and sliced the vein on their necks. One of the Brothers died quickly while Donnie and the two others fought the other to death. Shaw said he just stood there, covered in arterial blood splatters, watching Donnie and the others finish off the Gersts.
Much of the town was shockingly grateful to hear the Gerst Brothers were dead and everyone was all too happy to sweep it under the rug rather than have 4 of their sons incarcerated for decades when they were needed to help with the town's bread and butter – the Pumpkins. So, they buried the Gerst Brothers in that field and grew pumpkins on their corpses and no one really talked about it. The town paid off their father, who was too inebriated most of the time to care and he gleefully drank himself to death on the payoff only about a year later.
I didn't have much of a reaction to the story. The historian on the other hand, was hesitant to stay and keep writing and he made a brief protest concerning whether or not the story was true and whether or not he could legally listen to it. Shaw said it was both true and legal. After all, there was nothing left of the town and the remains were long gone and he himself, would not bare witness to himself. The college student's dumb metal encrusted mouth was agape in a mix of horror and disbelief.
I was waiting, patiently, might I add, for my stew. Shaw promised it would be up soon. He continued the story, stating that the fields produced abnormally well afterwards and 10 years later he was visiting his parents with his girlfriend for the annual Pumpkin fest. It was just that the pumpkins weren't just more numerous and larger, or more resistant to the rains and the fungus, they were alive and nothing could keep them tame or from spreading wider and wider. And everyone thought this was great at first, the profits were never higher but then weird things began to happen. Equipment went missing and two farm hands were crushed by a wagon full of pumpkins tipping over onto them in what was at first called a freak accident. Shaw recounted how he took his girlfriend through one of the patches and the vines seem to wind and grapple her legs, of course, Shaw's folks passed it off as her not being used to the mud but Shaw said he knew better.
Shaw continued to describe that over the days that led up to Halloween, the Jack O Lanterns on people's porches and elsewhere began to do some unusual things. Things like seemingly move by themselves from dusk to dawn, changing the carvings of their faces slightly, or appearing to “jump” off a table onto the porch without damage or apparent cause. On the morning of Halloween, Shaw said that he found his black cat, Lucky, incinerated in front of a jack o lantern as if it had breathed fire on to it from its mouth though they had long ago blown out the candle inside.
After the cat burning, the elderly man from the historical society tossed his spoon in his bowl. Shaw asked if something was wrong. The elderly man got up to leave and he said it tasted like bitter cold bull and his story was bull and thanked him for nothing. After checking the remaining contents of his bowl of stew, Shaw chased him out of the door, to his car, asking him what direction he planned to go home. When he peeled out of the parking lot he was headed southwest. Shaw came back in and threw up his hands.
I tell nothing but the truth, he said, most people can't handle it. Part of me wanted to go, but I was cozy there, it was warm and the story, while bull to me at the time, was entertaining enough. The SJW sitting down the way looked exhausted, barely keeping her eyes open as Shaw finished out the story. In short he said, Donnie approached him at dusk on Halloween while he and his family sat on the porch eagerly awaiting trick o treaters. Donnie said the Gerst Brothers are alive in the pumpkins and that they planned to burn the whole town down tonight. Donnie said, he had to tell Shaw because Shaw wasn't supposed to die, he was supposed to watch.
I rudely stopped him and demanded more stew. I was still hungry and the stew was somehow unsatisfying. When he returned, he finished the story, stating the town was suddenly engulfed in flames and their house in particular with Donnie on the porch, flash burned to the ground like napalm from an exploding pumpkin. He escaped with his family and his future wife in the pick up truck sitting outside now.
The college student said she felt like she needed to lay down, that she didn't think she could make back to the campus to the north. Shaw attended to getting her one of the rooms upstairs. I stayed down stairs and went to the back for more stew. I rubbed my eyes intensely and felt as if I too should stay for the night. But in the tug of war between fatigue and dexrine, the dexrine was slowly coming out ahead.
Next to the stew was a cutting board and a knife and on it was some bluish whitish powder which I found peculiar. On floor was a bottle of medication. It was Insomnex – a sleeping pill I use when I'm coming off of dexrine. The stew was dosed.
I ran to my truck and pulled out my dexrine and my revolver. As I climbed out of the driver's side, I could see Shaw running out of the dinner with a huge kitchen knife. I ducked under the trailer and back out on his side and pointed the gun at him.
What the hell I asked as I slowly advanced on him with my snub nose pointed at his head. He dropped the knife. He said, I just wanted to puncture your tires, I had to do something to stop you. I know you want to go north and I know you might be crazy enough and your truck tough enough to smash the barricades but I can't let you. I can't let anyone else go through, he said hysterically. I asked the dumb question about whether or not he set the barricades and just as I previously suspected, he did.
I'm supposed to watch, Shaw cried. No one can get through tonight, no can be allowed to. I told him to shut up as he rambled on about how he and his wife took it upon themselves to ward off travelers on Halloween Night. Its a cursed road tonight, he said, we're cursed to stay here and this is the best we can do to stop it from spreading. Its been calling us for 30 years, he went on, we tried to walk away but it kept on spreading, the pumpkins, he said gritting his teeth in anguish.
Maybe it was the dexrine and the insomnex working together, hell maybe it was the stew by itself but I just started to laugh as I guided Shaw back into the dinner and proceeded to duct tape him down to the dinner chair to make sure he could not cause anymore harm to anyone else until the police arrived. I had some cash on me, I wasn't a criminal, I wasn't going to make it seem like I tied him up and dinned and dashed, I was in the right, I was doing the lawful thing. So I left him exact change, no tip for the food. In the process of making change for myself, I found the padlock key in the cash drawer, I was certain of it at the time as I waved it in front of Shaw and he gasped and thrashed behind the duct tape the hardest.
I got into my truck and gunned it north towards the barricades, which, as I suspected was easily opened with the key I confiscated from Shaw. I got on my CB and started making emergency calls to the State Police, I gave them my name, the location of the diner, and Shaw's name. I was in the middle of nowhere so it didn't surprise me when I got static and no acknowledgment. I had no bars on my cell phone either but that is typical of central Illinois.
I was going along about 70. The sun was almost down but I hadn't seen the moon yet. I turned on the radio and found a classic rock station. The song was Born on the Bayou from CCR. The opening riff perked me up and reassured me that I had done everything all well and all good. If things held, there was a chance, I could get my freight unloaded and see John tonight. I was eagerly tapping the steering wheel waiting to bust into “When I was just a little boy...” But just as the lyrics should have entered, the radio station seemed to have accidentally reset the song, it just started over.
The sun faded away entirely and yet no moon came up. The sky was so dark but I didn't remember seeing any clouds or expecting any for that matter. The song continued restarting itself, the same opening again and again. I flipped through the other stations and all of them had it playing. Eventually, the digital clock on my dash began to spin wildly like the LCD numbers on the tuner while in scan mode. The truck buffeted and shook side to side despite my headlights showing no cause for it.
To my shock, ahead, in the distance was single traffic light. It was went from green, to yellow, and red, as any other traffic light but there were no lights or towns on this road. I slowed to 40, then 35 then to 30 as I entered an unnamed densely populated area with small buildings, stores, and houses and one traffic light. I came to a stop at the light and I looked around, locked my doors and tried to glimpse where I was. Where ever I was, I felt, I felt like I shouldn't be there. There were dim orange lights in some of the rooms of the houses at the edge of the intersection.
I looked up at one of the windows and I saw a figure with large head in the window. I couldn't believe my eyes at least not until the figure turned to face outward. It was a jack o lantern, a classic one with a black glow where the eyes, nose, and mouth sat. It was held up right by a thin vine structure that seemed to grow and stretch as it stuck its head out of the window and let out a barely audible shrill whistle and stared directly at me.
I gunned it. I blew the red light as the town seemed to collapse into nothing by dark green swelling pumpkin vine and a sea of glowing jack o lanterns in my side view mirrors. I hit the radio off because all I could hear on it was that whistle filtering through. I drove and the mass of jack o lanterns grew in the mirrors. I glimpsed the left and right windows and the plains were glowing black with more pumpkins rolling and creeping towards the road.
The road began to warp and bend as I started to red line my truck. The buffeting side to side became difficult to control as the engine groaned. I couldn't explain how the road began to shift nor how the moon, blood orange began to circle around me from horizon to horizon. Aside from the moon, I thought I was making progress as I couldn't see the vines nor the hundreds of blacklight pumpkins swirling after me.
The moon slowed and dipped down and I started climbing a hill. As I crested, the moon filled the entire windshield and more. It spun and then settled on a black light pumpkin face and bore down on the cab.
I don't know what happened next but I woke up in my cab. The was engine smoking. All I could see was mud and putrid rotten pumpkins as far as I could see. My Blue Jay was sunk up to the cab down in mud, vines and rot. It wasn't going anywhere in it without some serious assistance. To my right and left I saw dozens of other vehicles, most of them at least ten years old, also up their doors in mud and rot. Swarms of flies were visible all around in the boiling midday sun. I'm not really sure how long it has been or what time it really was because the clock on my phone is broken and simply reads as 99:99. I don't know what day it is. I have no cell signal and no radio.
Carly, I need to be honest with you. I cheated on you. Maybe a dozen times. I did it before I thought, before I knew you were doing it to me. I can't live by the rules of trucking, or marriage or anything. It is the road and you command it and that is the only rule. But now, I'm worried I've broken my last rule. I have no food and no water. There is no road here. There is only rule of a blazing sun with jack o lantern face that never sets. I fear that in time, unless I find help or help finds me, I will be feeding the pumpkins.
​
Theo Plesha

Good day everyone. I found this subreddit and hopefully someone kind hearted cab help me out. I just had a vertigo attack and lost my job. I was an auditor before but I used up all my leaves and got terminated cus I can't afford to go to the hospital to be treated I just took meds that was prescribed to me before. I am a single mother to a 1 yr old baby.
If someone could help me out even for my baby's milk that would be very appreciated and I can offer you virtual assistant jobs or typing jobs if you have something to work on fast. Basically anything you want in return as long as I can do it, I'll do it to say thank you. Even a dollar could help. I'm sorry if I can't do amazon wishlist cus I am living in the philippines. Thank you in advance and I hope everyone will get through all the problems they have right now. God bless us all.

Good day everyone. I found this subreddit and hopefully someone kind hearted cab help me out. I just had a vertigo attack and lost my job. I was an auditor before but I used up all my leaves and got terminated cus I can't afford to go to the hospital to be treated I just took meds that was prescribed to me before. I am a single mother to a 1 yr old baby.
If someone could help me out even for my baby's milk that would be very appreciated and I can offer you virtual assistant jobs or typing jobs if you have something to work on fast. Basically anything you want in return as long as I can do it, I'll do it to say thank you. Even a dollar could help. I'm sorry if I can't do amazon wishlist cus I am living in the philippines. Thank you in advance and I hope everyone will get through all the problems they have right now. God bless us all.

So far I got two 10’ solo barics stuffed behind the bench, wondering what people recommend to go with the 1200 watts of subs

I already know why all 9-5ers are so suicidal. I just had to be there for 8 hours and I'm wanting to kill myself, and after my training finishes my shifts will be 10 hours, 9 hours work and 1 hour break. I wanna stab my neck and pull out my spine, as every single bone of my body scratches against my skin while I scream in pain.
Sched time : 1:00 sleep 6:30 wake 10:45 sandwich and two cucumbers 11:30 leave for office 1:10 arrive 3:00 lunch, somewhere along the way I ate a sandwich 6:15 another break, ate a pack of choco creme biscuits, like 25-40g 8:30 leave 9:00 in cab 10:15 home 10:30 momos 12:00 sleep, prolly
I know it wasn't much, but most of the time was sitting in front of a screen as different people came up to tell us things our group of 25 new employees didn't even listen to.
Fun fact, my company owns the legal rights to all my intellectual property. YAY. It can also sue me if I discuss my salary with my fellow employees. Double YAY. And it's not even like America where it is like a hidden rule. This is written in the contract they make us sign. I really wasn't kidding when I said I sold my soul for 18k a month. And guess what. No salary increases till next year, so I'm stuck with this salary for the rest of the year, and then too, just a chance at this salary.
I love this.
Hope for a better tomorrow. :P.
Edit: Just found out tomorrow's shift is 7:30 to 4:30.. I'm staying up tonight. Prolly sleep as late as possible.

I just picked up a 2018 Silverado 1500 LT Crew cab that came equipped with a 4” lift and 2” wheel spacers. However the previous owner must have taken the aftermarket wheels off to sell before trading and when I got it it has the OE 265/65/18 setup on it. Looks like they also did some trimming to the front fendebumper.
I’m trying to figure out what size wheel and tire combo I can fit on this with the setup it has. I’d like to stay with 18-20” wheels with 33” tires . But I’m unsure of rim width offsets and backspacing. With the current lift/spacers I’m sure this is possible and I’m over thinking but I’m just not good with measurements and want to get this setup right the first time and not deal with hassles of returning stuff over and over.
I’d also rather not cut/ trim anymore than what’s been done.
Any ideas/help would be appreciated

I just picked up a 2018 Silverado 1500 LT Crew cab that came equipped with a 4” lift and 2” wheel spacers. However the previous owner must have taken the aftermarket wheels off to sell before trading and when I got it it has the OE 265/65/18 setup on it. Looks like they also did some trimming to the front fendebumper.
I’m trying to figure out what size wheel and tire combo I can fit on this with the setup it has. I’d like to stay with 18-20” wheels with 33” tires . But I’m unsure of rim width offsets and backspacing. With the current lift/spacers I’m sure this is possible and I’m over thinking but I’m just not good with measurements and want to get this setup right the first time and not deal with hassles of returning stuff over and over.
I’d also rather not cut/ trim anymore than what’s been done.
Any ideas/help would be appreciated

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$54 - Cassino - Sounds of Salvation (white /300)
$42 - Cassino - Sounds of Salvation (black /300)
$58 - Cave In - Tides of Tomorrow ( Lime Green VG+ )
$65 - Chance the Rapper - Coloring Book (red/orange OFFICIAL press) VG+
$20 - Charles Bradley - Black Velvet (Purple w black splatter VG+)
$20 - Charles Bradley - Changes VG+
$20 - Charles Bradley - Victim of Love VG+
All 3 Charles Bradley for $50
$17 - Charly Bliss - Young Enough (Blue) VG+
$29 - Charmer - Ivy (cloudy clear w green) Sealed
$60 - Chelsea Cutler - How to Be Human (Coke Bottle Clear) SEALED
$22 - Childish Gambino - Kauai (light blue) NM
$22 - Childish Gambino - Camp (2xlp 180g) VG+
$29 - Choir Boy - Gathering Swans (glow in the dark) VG+
$18 - Chris Farren - Can't Die (baby blue) VG+
$35 - Circa Survive - A Dream About Love (Gold Sealed)
$32 - Circa Survive - A Dream About Love (Green w Splatter) VG+
$55 - Circa Survive - Live Sky Noise (Blue/Orange Split with Blue splatter) VG+
$50 - Circa Survive - Live Sky Noise (red/yellow w black splatter butterfly) VG+
$100 - Circa Survive - Inuit Sessions (Pink) VG+
$86 - Circa Survive - A Dream About Death (Crystal Blue with alt screenprinted numbered cover) NM
$20 - Citizen - Everybody is Going to Heaven (SilveCream/Baby Blue) VG+
$24 - Citizen - Life in Your Glass World (Blue/Green galaxy swirl) sealed
$24 - Citizen - Youth (clear) VG
$34 - Citizen - Youth (green w black smoke) VG+
$31 - Clairo - Immunity VG+
$17 - Claud - Super Monster (Blue) VG+
$28 - Clint Lowery - God Bless the Renegades (red w black) SEALED
$30 - Cloud Nothings - Attack on Memory (10th Anniversary Blue Sky color with 2x7" clear flexi) SEALED
$15 - The Coffis Brothers - In the Cuts VG+
$15 - Cold Moon - Whats the Rush (clear w olive splatter) SEALED
$30 - Coldplay - X&Y (slipcase, light shelf wear) VG
$36 - Cold War Kids - Mine is Yours VG+
$15 - Common - A Beautiful Revolution pt 1 (red smoke) SEALED
$16 - Crossed Keys - Saviors (blue swirl) VG+
$45 - Damien Rice - My Favourite Faded Fantasy (2xlp gatefold) VG+
$40 - Dan Mangan - Nice Nice Very Nice 10th anniversary VG+
$38 - Dance Gavin Dance - Afterburner (Black in yellow w mustard splatter) VG+
$390 - Dance Gavin Dance - Box Set (6xlp all color pics available VG+)
$65 - Dance Gavin Dance - Artificial Intelligence (black gatefold) VG+
$30 - Dance Gavin Dance - Tree City Sessions (OXBLOOD/BEER) VG Sleeve wear
$25 - Dance Gavin Dance - Tree City Sessions 2 (mint/black/gold) VG+
$25 - Danny Elfman - Nightmare Before Christmas Soundtrack (2xlp purple/yellow) vg+
$18 - Darlingside - Fish Pond Fish
$18 - Dave Chappelle - 8:46 SEALED
$22 - Dave Hause - Kick (clear w black red splatter) SEALED
$18 - Daywave - Crush SEALED
$215 - The Dear Hunter - Act 1 and Act 2 3xlp Clear VG shelf wear
$39 - The Dear Hunter - Act 4 Rebirth in Reprise (oxblood/sea blue haze) VG+
$45 - Death Cab For Cutie - Live 2012 (white w black splatter) SEALED
$60 - Deep Sea Diver - Impossible Weight (test press w one of a kind custom sleeve) NM
$40 - Deep Throat Choir - Be OK (import) VG+
$60 - Derek Ted - Better Spirit (test press w one of a kind custom sleeve) NM
$23 - Dermot Kennedy - Doves and Ravens (clear)
$115 - Dermot Kennedy - Without Fear Complete Edition (Blue) VG+
$23 - Dessa - Ides (clear SIGNED) vG+
$22 - Dessa - Sound the Bells SEALED
$20 - Devon Kay and the solutions - Grieving Expectation (clear w light blue dark blue splattet) SEALED
$20 Diet Cig - Swear I'm good at this (blue marbled) VG+
$45 - Dinner Party - Dessert EP (yellow w red splatter) VG+
$22 - Dinner Party - S/T VG+
$27 - The Dip - Delivers VG+ still in shrink
$30 - The Dirty Nil - Fuck Art (Pink) VG+
$30 - The Dirty Nil - Master Volume (red) VG+
$23 - The Distillers - Sing, Sing Death Horse (Doublemint black galaxy) SEALED
$29 - Dogleg - Melee (Black w yellow splatter) NM
$19 - Dryjacket - Lights, Locks and Faucets SEALED
$22 - Doomtree - No Kings NM
$22 - Early Eyes - Look Alive (Blue Seafoam Wave) vg+
$20 - The Early November - Lilac (White & coke bottle green pinwheel) vg+
$200 - The Early November - The Mother, The Mechanic, The Path (oxblood/mustard) VG+
$17 -Eastwood - It Never Gets Easy (green w bone,yellow,white splatter) SEALED
$19 - Empire Empire! (I was a Lonely estate) - You Will Eventually be forgotten VG+
$25 - Fairweather - If they move kill them.. (clear and black marble) Sealed
$20 - Father John Misty - Fear Fun VG+
$26 - The Felix Culpa - Sever Your Roots (2xlp, seam split) VG
$60 - Fear Before - Fear Before (brown black split) NM
$20 - Fences - Lesser Ocean (salmon) vG+
$22 - Fiddlehead - Between the richness (White inside purple) VG+
$20 - FKA Twigs - LP1 VG+
$25 - The Flatliners - Inviting Light (doublemint) VG+
$20 - Fleet Foxes - A Very Lonely Solstice (clear) VG+
$26 - Fleet Foxes - Shore (Crystal Clear) VG+
$100 - Flobots - Fight With Tools (Signed red and blue Cornetto) SEALED
$23 - Fontaines DC - A Heros Death (clear) SEALED
$135 - The Forecast - In the Shadow of Two Gunmen (clear) VG+
$20 - The Format - The EP SEALED
$75 - The Format - Interventions and Lullabies (Silver) VG+
$35 - Foxing - Dealer (clear w red splatter) SEALED
$20 - Foxing - Draw Down the Moon (brown in light blue) NM
$50 - Francis and the Lights - A Modern Promise VG+
$160 - Francis and the Lights - Farewell, Starlite!
$60 - Frank Ocean - Nostalgia, Ultra (bootleg red)
$30 - Frank Turner -England, Keep My Bones 10th Anni (yellow) SEALED
$50 - Free Nationals - S/T (Gold nugget) VG+
$21 - Fuckin Whatever - S/T (yellow w blue splatter)
$24 - Fugees - The Score (clear w smoky white) SEALED
$60 - Further Seems Forever - The Moon Is Down boxset (cloudy white) NM
$20 - Future Islands - The Far Field (white) NM
$145 - Gallant - Ology 2xlp VG+
$24 - Gary Clark Jr - Live VG+
$26 -Gary Clark Jr - This Land SEALED
$ 18 - The Gaslight Anthem - American Slang VG+
$70 - The Gaslight Anthem - Get Hurt (red and white splatter) VG+
$55 - The Gaslight Anthem - The 59 Sound (blue/black mix) VG+
$19 - Gatsbys American Dream - Modern Man (pink/black mix) NM
$20 - Gatsbys American Dream - In the Land of Lost Monsters (cleaglow in the dark split)
$30 - The Get Up Kids - Four Minute Mile (White w blue splatter) NM
$22 - The Get Up Kids - The Guilt Show (Clear w Red Splatter SEALED
$26 - The Get Up Kids - Live @ the Granada Theater (clear and blue swirl) NM
$24 - The Get Up Kids - On a Wire (green and gray swirl) SEALED
$22 - The Get Up Kids - There Are Rules (Blue 2xlp Deluxe w bonus songs) SEALED
$25 - The Get Up Kids - Woodson (1997 black) VG+
$42 Glasvegas - Glasvegas (import, 10th anniversary cover) NM
$20 - The Go Team - The Scene Between VG+
$26 - Gold Necklace - S/T VG+
$20 - Gregor Barnett - Dont Go Throwing Roses in my Grave (clear w black smoke) NM
$45 - Grouplove - Never Trust a Happy Song VG+
$50 - Gulch - Impenetrable Cerebral Fortress (yellow and mint split with orange splatter) NM
$36 - Hail Mary Mallon - Beastiary (Beza Version Picdisc) NM
$60 - Half-Waif - The Caretaker (test press w one of a kind custom sleeve)
$30 - Hanibal Buress - Animal Furnace VG+
$25 - Hazel English - California Dreamin (red flexi) NM
$70 - He Is Legend - I Am Hollywood (yellow) SEALED
$55 - The Head and the Heart- S/T VG+
$28 - Hobo Johnson - The Fall of Hobo Johnson (white) NM
$30 - Homesafe - Nervous Reaction (coke bottle ghostly) VG+
$18 - Homesafe - One (blue) SEALED
$35 - The Horrible Crowes - Elise 10th anni (silver) VG+
$35 - The Hotelier - Goodness VG+
$50 - The Hotelier - Goodness (cerulean and coral) VG+
$22 - Houndmouth - Good For You (yellow and orange swirl) sealed
$55 - Hozier - Nina Cried Power (180g) VG+
$40 - Ace Enders - Dustin off the ol guitar (red/black w white splatter) VG+
$40 - The Internet - Hive Mind VG+
$38 - Iron Chic - You Can't Stay Here (clear w red black gold splatter) VG+
$20 - Ivy Sole - Overgrown (blue/clear w yellow splatter) NM
$26 - J.S. Ondara - Tales of America VG+
$75 - Jaden - ERYS (pink) SEALED
$18 - Jaws - Be Slowly (white) VG+
$110 - Jay-z and Kanye - Watch the Throne (bootleg burgundy marbled) VG+
$29 - The Jealous Sound - A Gentle Reminder (white) SEALED
$75 - John Nolan - Height (random color w one of a kind custom jacket)
$46 - Joy Crookes - skin (clear; import) SEALED
$85 - Joyce Manor - S/T (Coke bottle clear) VG+
$56 - Joyce Manor - 40 Oz to Freedom (lime) NM
$26 - Joyce Manor - S/T (remaster with red cover color mix vinyl) VG+
$130 - The Juliana Theory - Emotion is Dead (red/gold split blue/white split) SEALED
$60 - Just Friends - Hella (reddish bone and black w alt cover screen print) NM
$35 - K Flay - Every Where is Some Where (white) SEALED
$19 - K Flay - Inside Voices/Outside Voices (green) SEALED
$17 Kacy Hill - Simpke Sweet and Smiling (clear and pink splatter) SEALED
$37 - Kanye West - My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy (3xlp) SEALED
$100 - Karen O and the Kids - Where the Wild Things Are VG+ (slight shelf wear)
$20 - Kevin Devine - Put Your Ghost to Rest (blue and white) VG+
$16 - Kate Bush - This Woman's Work 7" VG+
$20 - Kid Canaveral - Faulty Inner Dialogue (yellow) VG+
$25 - Korine - Tear (Clear) NM
$120 - Kurt Travis - Everything is Beautiful (white) VG+
$85 - Kurt Travis - There's a Place I Want to Take You (baby blue) VG+
$22 - Lando Chill - FOR Mark, Your Son (cleared split) VG+
$17 - Lando Chill - The Boy Who Spoke to the Wind (purple w white splatter) VG+
$20 - Latewaves - Hell to Pay ( clear w blue splatter) VG+
$21 - Laura Jane Grace - Stay Alive (lapis blue) NM
$20 - Laura Jane Grace - At War with the Silverfish (clear) SEALED
$32 - Laura Jane Grace and the Devouring Mothers - Bought to Rot VG+
$50 - The Lawrence Arms - Skeleton Coast (Malort) VG+
$35 - Left Behind - No One Goes to Heaven (Kelly green)
$20 - Leon Bridges - Gold Diggers Sound (alt cover) Vg+
$22 - Leon Bridges - Good Thing VG+
$25 - Lilac Queen - If Only (purple/blue smash) VG+
$47 - Lucky Daye - Painted SEALED
$64 - Luke Fiasco - Food and Liquor Series (boxset gold and purple swirl/silver) SEALED
$22 - Lurk - Electro-Shock (clear w blue and white splatter) SEALED
$36 - LVL Up - Space Brothers (green)
$135 - Lydia - Illuminate (seablue) VG+
$23 - Macseal - Super Enthusiast (doublemint green) SEALED
$40 - Macseal - yeah, no I Know (pink w etching) vg+
$50 - Mae - Destination B Sides (Blue) VG+
$22 - Manchester Orchestra - The Million Masks of God (pink shimmer) SEALED
$70 - Manchester Orchestra - Mean Everything to Nothing (180g w cd) VG+ in shrink
$20 - Maps and Atlases - Beware and be Grateful VG+
$48 - Maritime - We the Vehicles (red) VG+
$35 - Marlon Williams - Make Way for Love (blue) VG+
$50 - Mars Volta - Frances the Mute (blue/red bootleg) VG+
$31 - Mat Kerekes - Luna and the wild blue everything (tri color blue/white/light blue) SEALED
$24 - Mat Kerekes - Luna (white/black asidebside) SEALED
$18 - Matt Berninger - Serpentine Prison (Sea blue) SEALED
$46 - The Menzingers - On the Impossible Past (summer sky wave) VG+
$50 - Mercy Union - The Quarry (Limited to One Record store Anniversary release with screened cover (Sealed)
$18 - Middle Distance - BlueShift (white) SEALED
$25 - Miles Davis - Kind of Blue (2018 Europe reissue with white cover) VG+
$30 - Mini Trees - Always in Motion (red scarlet) SEALED
$100 - Moneen - Are We Really Happy with Who we Are Right Now (orange w clear splatter) VG+
$21 - Movielife - This Time Next Year (gold) VG+
$19 - The Movielife - Cities in Search of a Heart (doublemint) SEALED
$27 - The Muppets - The Muppets Christmas Carol (import) VG+
$16 - Mundy's Bay - Lonesome Valley (bone gray marble) SEALED
$17 - Muskets - Violent Paradise SEALED
$35 - My Bloody Valentine - Isnt Anything (bootleg import) VG+
$25 - My Chemical Romance - May Death Never Stop You (jalapeño green) SEALED
$21 - The National - Boxer VG+
$31 - The National - I Am Easy to Find (red, yellow, grey 3xlp) NM
$31 - The National - Sleep Well Beast(blue) NM
$22 - Nnamdi Ogbannaya - Drool (orange cream) VG+
$16 - No Better - It Felt Like Glass (light blue) SEALED
$46 - No Pressure - No Pressure (yellow) SEALED
$42 - Notorious BIG - Life After Death 3xLP VG+
$180 - Noah Gunderson - Family VG+
$22 - No Devotion - Singles 2014 SEALED
$27 - Nothing, Nowhere - Reaper X Ruiner (White w blk splatteblk w white splatter) VG+
$180 - Northstar - Pollyanna VG+
$40 - Oddisee - The Beauty in All VG+
$25 - Oddisee - Rock Creek Park (autumn gold) VG+
$60 - Of Monster and Men - Beneath the Skin (clear) VG+
$18 - Old 97s - Most Messed Up VG+
$46 - Oragami Angel - Gami Gang (half black half white) VG+
$30 - Oso Oso - Basking in the Glow (Pink) VG+
$24 - Owen - The Seaside EP (blue marble) VG+
$43 - POS - Audition 2xLP VG+
$25 - The Pains of Being Pure at Heart - S/T (white w pink yellow splatter) SEALED
$21 - Pale Waves - My Mind Makes Noises (clear 2xlp) NM
$38 - Patton Oswalt - Feelin Kinda Patton VG+
$40 - Paulson - All at Once (Blue splatter) VG+
$20 - Pedro The Lion - Havasu (peach) VG+
$36 - Perma - Fight Fair (half blue/half green) SEALED
$24- Pet Symmetry - Vision (cream) VG+
$20 - Petal - Shame (pink) VG+
$23 - Phoenix - Bankrupt! VG++
$20 - Pianos Become the Teeth - Wait for Love (White) SEALED
$60 - Piebald - All Ears, All Eyes, All the Time (Coke bottle clear) VG+
$18 - PINE - s/t (blue /200) SEALED
$16 - Polar Bear Club - Live at the Montage (red) vg+
$17 - Polar Bear Club - Chasing Hamburg (gold) VG+
$40 Portugal the Man - Americam Ghetto VG+
$90 - Portugal the Man - The Majestic Majesty NM
$65 - Portugal the Man - Censored Colors (2008 black press) VG+
$20 - Portugal the Man - In the Mountain In the Cloud (white) VG+
$44 - Preston School of Industry - All This Sounds Gas VG+
$54 - Prince Daddy and the Hyena - Cosmic Thrill Seekers (half green/half purple) VG+
$30 - Prince Daddy and the Hyena - I Thought You Didn't like Leaving VG+
$45 Prince Daddy and the Hyena - S/T (white w black silver twist) NM
$20 - Proper. - The Great American Novel (pink and evergreen splatter) SEALED
$50 - Pup - Morbid Stuff (half cleahalf white) vg+
$22 - Pup - The Unraveling of Pup the Band (clear w black/yellow/pink splatter) SEALED
$28 - Raquet Club - S/T (Blue/black split) vg+
$40 - Radiohead - in Rainbows (2017 XL press) vg+
$20 - Rage Against the Machine - Rage Against the Machine XX (Pic disc) VG+
$80 - Rainbow Kitten Surprise - RKS! Live from Athens (with slipcase) VG+ one corner ding
$65 - Raury - All We Need VG+
$30 - Ray Lamontagne - God Willin and the Creek Don't Rise VG+
$60 - The Receiving End Of Sirens - The Earth Sings Mi Fa Mi (clear w black and white splatter--- bonus 2003 demos 7") VG+
$20 - Red City Radio - To the Sons and Daughters of Woody Guthrie (blue w black splatter) VG+
$36 - Red City Radio - Paradise (blue with gray pink twist) VG+
$75 - Reggie and the Full Effect - Inside the Dust Sleeve (180g) VG+
$20 Remo Drive - Natural, Everyday Degredation (clear smoke) VG+
$20 - Remo Drive - A Portrait of an Ugly Man (Maroon) VG+
$20 - Restorations - S/T (white w green) VG+
$28 - Restorations - LP2 (white/green/yellow swirl) VG+
$20 - Restorations- LP3 (red/white/yellow/black starburst) vg+
$20 - Restorations - LP5000 (white) VG+
ALL 4 RESTORATIONS FOR $70
$21 - Rex Orange County - Pony (slipcase) VG+
$32 - Rhye - Blood (green marble) VG+
$48 - Rival Schools - United by Fate (white/blue pinwheel) SEALED
$45 - Rival Sons - Before the Fire (orange splatter) VG+
$18 - Rocky Votolato - Hospital Handshakes (black/white/light blue) SEALED
$60 - Rocky Votolato - Suicide Medicine (red/bone) SEALED
$38 - The Routes - Dirty Needles And Pins (dysphoria swirl) VG+
$32 - Rufio - MCMLXXXV (orchid and baby blue swirl) NM
$40 - Rufio - The Comfort of Home (Black and gold) NM
$25 - S.Carey - Break Me Open (yellow and black) NM
$19 - Saintseneca - Pillar of Na
$22 - Saintseneca - Dark Arc
$70 Sam Fender - Seventeen Going Under (white marble import) SEALED
$26 - Saosin - Along the Shadow VG
$62 - Saosin - Translating the Name (teal) SEALED
$80 - Saves the Day - In Reverie (white w black and blue splatter) VG+
$33 - Say Anything/Matt Pryor - Daytrotter no. 23 VG+
$21 - Seahaven - Winter Forever (pink/blue) vg+
$18 - Sevendust - Kill the Flaw (blood red) SEALED
$24 - Shannon and the Clams - year of the spider (Godstone) VG+
$20 - Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings - 100 days, 100 nights VG+
$19 - Sharptooth - Transitional Forms (GOLD Nugget) SEALED
$20 - Signals Midwest - I used to draw 7" (clear) VG+
$54 - Silk Sonic - An Evening with Silk Sonic (Alt Cover) SEALED
$42 - Silversun Pickups - Swoon (lavendeclear split) VG+
$50 - Sincere Engineer - Bless My Psyche (olive green) VG+
$24 - Skatune Network - Ska Goes Emo vol 1 (white w blue orange splatter) VG+
$20 - Skatune Network - Burn the Billboard (violet) SEALED
$18 - Sleater Kinney - S/T (2014 press) VG+
$65 - Sleater Kinney - Dig Me Out (OG 1997 press) VG
$45 - The Smiths - The Queen is Dead (09 US press 180g) SEALED
$70 - The Smiths - Louder Than Bombs (87 US press) VG+
$20 - Snow Patrol - Final Straw SEALED
$42 - Soft Kill - Savior (black /1300)
$55 - Soft Kill - An Open Door (clear w orange white splatter /100) NM
$25 - Soft Kill - Dead Kids RIP City VG+
$34 - Soft Kill - Desd Kids RIP City (yellow) VG+
$20 - Solemn Brigham - South Sinner Street (brown swirl) SEALED
$20 - Son Little - Aloha (Pineapple) VG+
$35 - Soul Blind - Greatest Hits vol 1 (clear w black/violet splatter) VG+
$72 - The Sound of Animals Fighting - The Tiger and the Duke (red) VG+
$24 - Spanish Love Songs - Brave Faces ETC. (cleawhite split w mint splatter) SEALED
$27 - Stay Inside - Viewing (dusk) SEALED
$165 - Stornoway - Beachcomber's Windowsill (import) SEALED
$40 - The Story So Far - The Story So Far (half cream half blue trans) VG+
$20 - St Paul and the Broken Bones - The Alien Coast (gold nugget) NM
$120 - Straylight Run - The Needles the Space VG
$75 - Straylight Run - S/T (brown marble) VG
$21 - Straylight Run - Live at the Patchogue Theater SEALED
$23 - The Stokes - Room on Fire VG+
$20 - Sundowner - We Chase the Waves (orange) VG+
$42 - Superheaven - Ours is Chrome (Black into yellow) VG+
$23 - Surfers Blood - Covers (amber w black) VG+
$18 - Swearin - Fall into the Sun (Coke bottle clear) VG+
$18 - Take Offense - Keep an Eye Out (clear w red and yellow splatter) SEALED
$30 - Taking Back Sunday - Tell All Your Friends (Sangria w 10") SEALED
$23 - Taking Back Sunday - Tell All Your Friends (12"black copy) vG+
$50 - Tall Heights - Neptune VG+
$20 - theithey're/there - S/t (seafoam clear) VG+
$20 - theitheyre/there - Analog Weekend VG+
$80 - Third Eye Blind - Out of Vein (Silver import) VG+
$25 - Thrice - To Be Everywhere... ( blue w rainbow splatter) SEALED
$35 - Thrice - Majominor (gold/yellow) SEALED
$49 - Thrice - Beggars (green/blue/yellow striped) VG+ with the 7"sealed
$65 - Thursday - Full Collapse live (white)SEALED
$25 - Tigers Jaw - Studio 4 Acoustic (half blue half white) VG+
$20 - Tillian - Factory Reset (red/green/black) SEALED
$27 - Tokyo Police Club - Forcefield VG+
$23 - Touche Amore - Lament (aqua) vg+
$110 - Turnstile - Glow On (pit turd brown) SEALED
$45 - Turnstile - Pressure to Succeed (2014 black press) VG++
$26 - Tyler the Creator - Flower Boy VG+
$55 - A Wilhelm Scream - Partycrasher (Kaleidoscope /150) VG+
$60 - Beavis and Butthead SNES (blue w yellow splatter) NM
$30 - A Charlie Brown Christmas (clear w red swirl) SEALED
$30 Various - Amerikinda: 20 Years of Dualtone (camo) VG+
$18 - Various- Bridge and Tunnel Soundtrack (random color) VG+
$50 - Various - Chillhop Essentials Winter 2021 (white) SEALED
$40 Various - David Bowie in Jazz - A Jazz Tribute to David Bowie (import) VG+
$28 - Various - Dead Formats vol 1 (red white blue smash w splatter) SEALED
$31 - Various - Disney Ultimate Hits vol 1 +2 (green + blue)
$21 - Various - Encanto SEALED
$28 - Various - Girls vol 2 TV soundtrack VG (shelf wear and corner ding
$22 - Various - Lady Bird Soundtrack VG+
$55 - Various - Lyricist Lounge vol 1 (1998 4XLP) VG+ corner dings
$40 - Various - Magnolia Record Club - NPR Tiny Desk (blue marble) VG+
$52- Various - Magnolia Record Club - Spotify Singles (Ghostly Green Swirl) VG+
$54 - Various - Minnesota Beatle Project Vol 3 (red) VG+
$50 - Various - Minnesota Beatle Project Vol 4 (white) SEALED
$23 - Various - Motown Christmas 1's (red and green) VG+
$100 - Various- O Brother Where art Thou? Soundtrack (Black and white split) VG+
$110 - Various - The Phantom of the Opera Motion Picture Soundtrack (2016 MOV black press) sleeve NM media VG(scratch that doesn't seem to affect play)
$28- Various - Sing 2 Soundtrack VG+
$25 - Various - Coco Soundtrack (Pic disc)NM
$75 - Various - The Very Best Of Black Flavour Club (4xlp) [a lot of 90s hiphop] SEALED
$90 - This Warm December: A Brushfire Holiday vol 1 (Green/Red) VG+
$20 -Various -Troll World Tour Soundtrack (clear white) VG+
$20 - Various - Wish I Was Here Soundtrack VG+
$20 - Various - Soul Pixar Soundtrack SEALED
$25 - Vampire Weekend - Contra VG+
$80 - Vacationer - Gone VG
$18 - The Warriors - Monomyth (black inside clear) SEALED
$50 - Windowspeak - Windowspeak (red) SEALED
$21 - Worst Party Ever - Dartland (red) VG+
$70 - The Wonder Years - No Closer to Heaved (blue/burgundy mix) VG+
$135 - The Wonder Years - The Upsides/Suburbia 10 yr Anniversary Boxset (white) VG+
$46 - Wintersleep - Wintersleep VG+
$42 - Wildcat! Wildcat! - No Moon At All SEALED
$60 - Wild Nothing - Gemini (purple) VG+
$30 - Wild Nothing - Indigo (blue smoke) SEALED
$29 - Wicca Phase Springs Eternal - Secret Boy (Pink) VG+
$24 - The Weakerthans - Reconstruction Site VG+
$25 - Waxahatchee - American Weekend VG+
$22 Waxahatchee - Saint Cloud VG+
$80 - The War on Drugs - A Deeper Understanding (clear) VG+
$30 - Walk the Moon - What If Nothing (purple white swirl) VG+
$35 - Walter Schreifels - An Open Letter to the Scene (Green/white) VG+
$20 - Young Statues - Age Isnt Ours (white/yellow) VG+
$20 - You Blew It! - Abendrot (blue in clear) SEALED

Good day everyone. I found this subreddit and hopefully someone kind hearted cab help me out. I just had a vertigo attack and lost my job. I was an auditor before but I used up all my leaves and got terminated cus I can't afford to go to the hospital to be treated I just took meds that was prescribed to me before. I am a single mother to a 1 yr old baby.
If someone could help me out even for my baby's milk that would be very appreciated and I can offer you virtual assistant jobs or typing jobs if you have something to work on fast. Basically anything you want in return as long as I can do it, I'll do it to say thank you. Even a dollar could help. I'm sorry if I can't do amazon wishlist cus I am living in the philippines. Thank you in advance and I hope everyone will get through all the problems they have right now. God bless us all.

I (27m) (the Aussie) want to travel Australia at some point in the near future. I'm looking at doing a camper build on the back of a Ford Transit cab chassis. But I don't want to travel alone. As all my friends either have kids or can't get much time off work I don't really have anyone to travel with.
So I'm wondering if anyone might be open to that idea? Whether for a few days or few weeks it doesn't matter.
I'm still working out the details but the idea would be you'll travel with me in the van but sleep in a separate tent. You'll still have access to the on board toilet at night and the bathroom and kitchen during the day. (I'm also thinking about getting a few ebikes to ride). From there we can use it as a base camp and go on hiking or biking trips.
Money wise - you'll buy your own food. We would split fuel and accommodation costs. (But the van will be off grid capable so we would just stay at free camp sites.)
(I'm asking now because I have to decide between getting the single cab 3 seater or the dual cab 7 seater).
Thoughts?
If this isn't the right sub to ask this question please let me know where is.

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​
Griger Kel-Am watched from his cell in the old town jailhouse as workers busily erected a scaffolding in the courtyard below. It was shaping up nicely, he thought with an appreciative nod; the skeletal beams reminded him of the bones of dead animals in the Karel Desert and that comparison almost disturbed him.
Which was no easy feat. Griger had seen the worst the world had to offer. He fought beasts in the Staygin Mountains, fended off feral bandits in the Jarel Plains, and weathered more attacks, fights, battles, and death than most people even knew existed. Nothing on earth could rattle him. He couldn’t afford to let himself be shaken. Life, he had learned, was like a surging storm tide. You either stand strong against it, or you get knocked down and swept away. Griger refused to be swept away. He refused to wind up like the old bones he stumbled across on the North Road and in the snowy stepps at the top of the world. A man must be hard and stoic to survive, and he must be harder and colder to thrive.
Despite his grizzled face, many scars, dead eyes, and unseemly facial hair, Griger, a sword for hire since before the Great Plague, had always thrived.
Sighing, Griger left the window and walked over to the door; three brisk paces. He threaded his arms through the bars and tried his best to look up the corridor. In the cells across from him, other men, their faces dirty and white, cowered, waiting for their judgement.
Their open fear disgusted Griger.
Cowards.
Griger wasn’t afraid to die. Dying was easy; you closed your eyes and went to sleep. Living...living was hard, every day a knock down, drag out fight for dominance against something. Outlaws, nature, your own inner darkness. He did not seek death, but he welcomed it. The prospect of a noose tightening around his neck, of his body jerking and dancing before many jeering eyes and spitting mouths, however, almost bothered him.
But as a wise old man he once knew had said, This too shall pass.
A sardonic smile touched Griger’s chapped lips and he shook his head like a man who couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Of all the things he’d done in his life to deserve a hanging, self-defense is what did him in. Ha.
Two weeks ago, he was following the river from the North, on foot and alone save for his sword and his rucksack. He stopped at a tide pool to drink, and was beset by a man with a knife. In his frock coat and rubberized boots, he was too well dressed to be a highwayman; he never spoke a word until he lay in the grass, his throat laid open and gushing rich red blood. “Scoundrel,” he gurgled.
Griger relieved him of his boots and pocketbook and carried on. Before dusk, he came across the village and rented a room at the inn. Women in cheap, homespun dresses haunted the halls, knocking at doors to sell their company, and Griger, lying in bed by the flickering light of a lamp, was considering spending the rest of the money on one when three constables broke down the door.
The man he killed, they told him later, was the son of the mayor. At that moment, Griger knew he was in trouble.
They refused to believe that the son attacked first and pointed to the things Griger had taken from his as proof of overland piracy, theft, and murder. He was tried in a packed courtroom and found guilty, standing tall and proud but alone as no lawyer in the land would take his case.
Out in the courtyard, someone shouted, and a team of horses neighed, Griger, sitting on the edge of his cot, looked up at the window. The light was getting weaker as night approached. Shadows, long and black, fell through the slats and made unwholesome shapes across the earthen floor. Down the hall, a man cried out for water, and elsewhere, someone raked a metal cup back and forth across the bars. Would they hang him tonight, Griger wondered, or would they wait for dawn?
“You,” someone spat.
Griger looked up to find the mayor standing at the bars, his bloated face filled with hatred. Another man was with him, this one taller and thinner. They were both clad in the finest garments, but the stranger was undoubtedly better suited. Griger took him for a government official.
“What do you want?” Griger asked, an edge in his voice.
The mayor opened his mouth to speak, but the stranger silenced him. “My name is Urick Farbin. I’m the governor of Ezk Province and I have a proposition for you.”
“What’s that?”
Farbin flashed a tight smile.
It looked to Griger like he wouldn’t be hanged at all.
And that made him smile.
***
Griger watched the countryside pass slowly by, all green hills, trickling brooks, and dense thickets. The occasional straw hut loomed out of the wilderness like an antsy thief, and six miles out of the village, they passed a stately manor house that could only have belonged to the mayor.
It was mid-afternoon and the overcast day wrapped itself around Griger like a wet blanket. The previous night, Governor Farbin sprang Griger from his cell and brought him to the inn, where he was kept under armed guard. Griger spent most of the evening in a straight back chair and whittling. You don’t have to worry, he said to the sentry standing at the door, I’m not going anywhere.
And he wasn’t. He was not an honor bound man by any stretch, but Farbin saved his life, and Griger reckoned that earned him a little loyalty.
The guards didn’t stand down, but Griger didn’t blame them. He wouldn’t have either.
In the morning, they set off in a horse drawn carriage, heading northwest along the Western Road. Now, hours later, Griger sat next to the Governor, who wore a dark cloak and wide-brimmed hat befitting his office. Beside him, the driver held the reins and stared ahead with the practiced indifference of a man used to tuning out things he wasn’t supposed to hear.
“Will you explain to me what I’m doing?” Griger asked.
Farbin was quiet for a moment, then he looked up at the sky, the muted light bathing his craggy features. “Your file says that you’ve done work for the Government.”
“Some,” Griger replied.
“You’ve handled things of a singular nature,” the old man continued. “Things that most other men have never dreamed possible.”
Gringer nodded. He had. His only oath was to himself, and he worked for whoever paid him the highest sum. Men like him were called mercenaries but he preferred to think of himself as a businessman.
“There’s a matter in a nearby village that has been ongoing for quite some time,” Farbin said, picking his words carefully. “I have sent my best agents and they’ve done nothing for it. When the paperwork on you came to my office, I checked your name, as I do all condemned men, and knew at once that you were the man for this job.”
Griger was almost touched. “What’s the job?”
The Governor turned to face Griger, his expression bloodless and sober, as though he had something great yet terrible to impart upon him. “Do you believe in werewolves?”
“Yes,” he said, “I do.”
“Have you ever killed one?”
Griger hesitated. “No,” he said, “not personally, but I was with a party that did.”
Five years before, Griger wintered in a village among the steep foothills guarding the forbidding expanse of Mount Grez. In the deepest, darkest days of the freeze, local livestock began to die, ripped asunder and strewn across snowy fields like trash. Wolf tracks larger than any Griger had ever seen led to and from each scene, and at night, high, ghostly howls rose above the shrieking wind, curdling the blood of even the most sturdy men.
After a watchman on patrol was attacked and gutted in the main square, the men of the village banded together and tracked the beast, eventually cornering it in a cave near a frozen river. Even if he lived to be a thousand, Griger would never forget the monster they encountered. Seven feet tall, coated in matted gray fur, its face canine yet human, its eyes blazed with the fires of hell, and as the men approached, it snapped and snarled, the sounds it made so close to words that even now, Griger wondered if it were trying to speak. They beset it with swords and torches, and when the dust settled, five men were dead and three were wounded. The wolf lay crumpled on the ground, decapitated and aflame. Even with no head, even with its heart divorced from its body, it screeched as the fire consumed it, a high, hitching wail that haunted Griger’s dreams for many moons after.
Farbin nodded. “I figured as much. A man as well-travelled as you has to have seen such things.”
He went on to explain that a suspected werewolf was loose in the countryside around the village of Koreth, a tiny fishing port on the sloped and muddy banks of the Rey River. Three weeks before, sheep and horses began to turn up dead, their bodies laid open and their intestines pulled from their stomachs. Before long, travellers along the Western Road started to die in a similar manner. Every time a new victim appeared, officials found large wolf tracks and strands of fur nearby.
Several nights ago, it broke into the home of a land baron and killed him, his wife, and his daughter. His young son survived, but was blinded in one eye.
‘It was a massive beast,’ the boy told the Governor, a personal friend of the baron. ‘It stood seven feet tall, was as wide as it was long, and had the snarling face of a man mixed with a dog.’
“You want me to kill it,” Griger said. It was not a question.
“Yes.”
The carriage jostled as its big wheels splashed through ruts and puddles. “And in return…?”
“You’ll get a full and unconditional pardon.”
Hmm. Griger considered the offer carefully, even though he was in no position to bargain. “Alright,” he said at last, “I’ll do it.”
They arrived at the village three hours later. Perched on the banks of the lazy river, it seemed a single estate rather than a town. A stone wall, roughly a dozen feet high, enclosed it, pitched roofs visible beyond. Two guards in helmets and chainmail, swords on their hips and crossbows in their hands, stood at the gate, their expressions stony and as hardscrabble as the fields sloping away from the walls.
Inside, tiny buildings lined narrow dirt streets and people in plain, homespun clothes went about their business, pushing carts, hawking vegetables, and playing dice. Old men sat in canned chairs before the town pub and a group of boys chased each other back and forth through shadowed warrens, their faces smudged and weatherbeaten beyond their years. Chickens and pigs, both plump and hale, ran free, the former flapping their impotent wings and the latter snorting happily as they wallowed and shat. Griger spotted a blacksmith in his quarters, striking an anvil with a hammer, and wondered idly if he had any interesting items for sale.
“The people here are stubborn and refuse to flee,” Farbin said.
Griger faced forward. “These types usually are.”
“You are not to worry about their safety,” Farbin warned. “They can see to themselves. Your only concern is to be the wolf.”
“Understood.”
The driver parked near the town inn and tied the horse to a hitching post while Griger and Farbin got out. Griger rolled his neck and flexed his shoulders. After so many years of walking wherever he went, he was unaccustomed to sitting for long periods and inevitably ended any long, stationary trek sore.
Past the batwing doors, a shadowy lobby lit by candlelight greeted them. Farbin led Griger directly up the stairs and to a tidy room with a single, neatly made bed and a desk beneath the window. “These are your quarters,” Farbin said.
“Spacious,” Griger said unsarcastically. He sat on the edge of the bed. “What leads do you have on this wolf?”
“None beyond what I’ve told you,” Farbn said. “My men have scoured the countryside but they haven’t found a thing.”
Griger hummed. “No tracks? Droppings? Nothing at all?”
“Not beyond what I’ve told you.”
That was odd. Werewolves rarely strayed far from their den. Unless they were of the rare half-breed that turned upon the cycle of the moon, man at day and beast by night. But those were as common as an honest man in the High Council - not very damned common at all.
“What are you thinking?” Farbin asked.
Griger said what was on his mind.
“But those aren’t real,” the Governor said, a hint of confusion in his voice.
“I tell you they are.”
Farbin’s brow furrowed with incredulity. “A man cannot simply change his form, nor can a wolf, for that matter. It goes against all logic.”
All Griger could do was spread his hands. That a man - even a large one - could transform into a werewolf (and that a werewolf could shrink back to the size of a mere man) did defy logic. Griger could not account for it, but he knew it to be so, and he said as much. Farbin, shaken by the confidence in Griger’s tone, nervously scratched the back of his neck and looked constipated. “Put aside what you think you know and ask yourself. What if it is a wolf-man?”
“But what if it isn’t?” Farbin countered.
Griger ticked his head to the side in acquiescence. “Maybe it’s not. Maybe your men have failed to uncover a den large enough to house a seven foot tall monster. Maybe they’ve been looking up each other’s backsides instead of where they should be.”
A dark shadow flickered across Farbin’s face. “My men are highly trained and highly skilled.”
“That’s why you came to me.”
Farbin fumed. “I came to you because you have experience in such things.”
“Right,” Griger said. “I do. And I’m telling you - in my expert opinion - that if there is no den, the wolf is a changeling. I cannot explain the science behind how and why it is a changeling. I don’t know how it can happen...but it does. You have to consider the possibility that you are looking for a phantom, that your wolf may be out there right this second ploughing a field or herding sheep and not asleep in a cave waiting to be found and made.”
Farbin turned away and put his hands on his hips. No shoulder had ever been colder, and for a second, Griger thought the old man was going to send him back to the gallows. “Alright,” Farbin finally said, “suppose it is a half-breed. What then?”
“I want to see where the latest attack happened.”
A half an hour later, Griger and Farbin stood before a large stone house with a slate roof and wide windows. A dirt drive looped around an ornate fountain and tall trees rustled in the new breeze. Several Provincial Guardsmen accompanied them, all with swords and crossbows and one, the commander, with a rare flintlock on his hip. Farbin led Gringer to the west side of the structure. “The wolf came in through the servants’ entrance,” he explained. A set of paw prints led to the door and Gringer knelt to study them. Roughly half a foot apart, they were slightly larger than any other he had seen.
Inside, the house was dark and cold, shadows clustered in corners like demons waiting for the fall of night to advance their ghoulish aims. Dried blood stained the wooden floors and spackled the bare walls. “Has anyone seen this creature and lived but the boy?”
Farbin shook his head. “No.” His face was white and strained, the somber, funeral atmosphere affecting him.
“You’ve told me everything?”
“Yes.”
Griger nodded to himself. If the wolf were a changeling, someone, somewhere likely would have seen it coming or going. That was a strike against his theory. On the other hand, there were likely dozens of isolated farms and homesteads scattered through the surrounding countryside. The wolf could be anyone from anywhere.
“I want to talk to the locals,” Griger said as he and Farbin walked back to the carriage.
“Right.”
“I’ll also need a team of men at my disposal,” Griger said. “And a sword.”
They were sitting across from each other in the carriage’s enclosed cab. Without, the sky was beginning to cool to purple and evening gloom stealthy crept from the forest. “We’ll get you one.”
“It must be made with silver,” Griger said.
Farbin frowned. “Silver is a poor alloy for sword-making.”
“But it’s the only alloy for werewolf killing,” Griger said. “It shouldn’t be made entirely of silver, but there must be some in it, the more, the better.
Farbin nodded that he understood.
By the time they made it back to the village, full dark had fallen. The streets stood deserted, the animals locked up for the night and most of the people hunkered in their homes. A few guards walked the lanes and dooyards, bows and swords at the ready, and a stray cat with no tail slunk furtively between piles of refuse, its ears laid flat against its skull and its fur matted and crisscrossed with scars from battles past.
The only activity was at the pub attached to the inn, where lights burned in the segmented windows and the chatter of many voices drifted into the street, occasionally flaring in laughter or song. Apparently, those hearty souls refused to let a wolf stand between them and their end-of-day festivities.
Griger’s respect for them increased.
Before entering, Farbin and Griger called on the blacksmith, a burly man with a bald head and a mustache that reminded Griger of walruses he had killed and eaten at the top of the world. Griger explained his need and impressed upon the man a sense of urgency. “I need it as soon as you can possibly have it ready.”
The blacksmith nodded gamely. “I’ll have it by dawn.”
Farbin took out his purse and paid, then they made their way to the inn.
Inside, a roaring fire crackled in the stone hearth and lamps on the walls sent shadows flickering across the floor. A dozen men sat at the bar with stines of beer and a half dozen more occupied the many tables in the middle of the room. A barkeep kept the drinks flowing while a pretty waitress with her blonde hair done up in an elaborate braid like a golden tiara brought trays of beer and pretzels to the tables.
Griger and Farbin sat at an empty table near the fireplace and Farbin removed his gloves. “Men will make merry even while the world burns around them,” he mused.
“Why not,” Griger said, “they can’t do it in the grave.”
The women came over and they ordered a pitcher of beer and a sandwich each. While they waited, Griger went to every man one-by-one and asked them about the wolf. They responded, to a man, with an eye roll or a dismissive laugh. None were worried in the slightest. One man lifted his brow in a pitying sort of way and looked Griger up and down as though he were mad. “Werewolves? Why, those were banished from the Realm centuries ago, it’s all much ado about nothing.”
“It’s a big wolf,” the barkeep said, “and dangerous too, that much is fact. But it’s a lot of hysteria. People today are too goddamn soft. In my time, we had wolves and bears too. If they acted out of line, we hunted them down and cut their heads off.”
The last man Griger came to was a wispy, white-haired oldster with rheumy eyes and three days’ worth of stubble covering his angular chin. Baggy brown clothes, old and wrinkled and caked in the dirt of the field, hung slack from his scrawny frame, and his long, spindly fingers threaded through the handle of his mug like fleshless bone. If Griger had ever seen a man who bore the official title “Town Drunk” he wouldn’t look the part any more than the old man.
Before Griger could ask him a single question, he spoke in a rusty voice that conjured images of graveyard gates in the dark Province of Helem. “I seen it,” he said, “and it weren’t no regular wolf neither.”
The barkeep sniffed. “You see lots of things, Sel. Like them little pink elephants.”
A wave of mean-spirited laughter ran through the bar, and Sel’s jaw clenched. Griger sensed that Sel was often made sport of at the bar.
Ignoring the other, Griger asked, “You’ve seen it?”
Sel nodded and held up three fingers. “Thrice, in fact,” he said with a belch.
“Tell me.”
The old timer looked up at him with a twist of suspicion. “Down by the road leadin’ up,” he said.
“All three times?”
“All three times,” Sel confirmed.
Once a mason, Sel had moved to the village ten years before to try his hand at farming, he explained. His homestead, comprising five acres, a tumbledown barn, and a decomposing shack masquerading as a house, sat below the walls, in a hollow between the hill and the river. Many nights, he sat on the front porch and “communed with the King” (King Rum, Griger assumed). From that perch, he witnessed “The damned beast” loping toward town. “The first time, I seen’t it over in the road,” he said, pronouncing road as rud. “I have good eyesight and I knew right off it weren’t normal, so I jumped outta my chair and ducked down real low so ways he couldn’t see me.”
Sel couldn’t provide a description of the wolf beyond “near eight damn feet tall and built like a mountain” but Griger didn’t need one. The old man’s story supported his supposition that the wolf was coming from somewhere else and not a den in the hills. Why would it come down the middle of the road each time? The only thing to the south was the river and open fields dotted by stands of forest, all of which Farbin’s men had already searched.
Werewolves are nocturnal creatures who sequester themselves somewhere dark and dry during the day. Farbin’s men should have found it by now. That they hadn’t suggested that it was a changeling.
Thanking Sel for his help, Griger went back to the table and sat across from Farbin. “The baron’s house lies in the direction of the river,” he said, more to himself than to the Governor. “What of the other attacks?”
“Mainly in that area,” Farbin said, “why?”
“The changeling - and that’s what it is - comes from across the river. How many homesteads are there beyond the banks?”
“At least two dozen,” Farbin said.
Griger crossed his arms and thought for a moment. “I want your men, tomorrow, out there going door to door with garlic. Make everyone they come across smell it and anyone who sneezes is put under watch.”
The Governor looked stricken. “But...why?”
“Changelings are allergic to garlic,” Griger said.
Farbin pursed his lips in contemplation. “Alright,” he said, “I’ll have them start at first light.”
After dining, they adjourned to their rooms, Farbin on one side of the hall and Griger on the other. A team of six Guardsmen took up position in the empty saloon and kept watch, ready to roll out at a moment’s notice. Griger threw the window open and perched on the ledge, the night breeze washing over him and rustling his graying hair. He rolled a cigarette, lit it with the bedside candle, and looked up at the glowing face of the waxing moon. Tomorrow night it would be full and the changeling would be compelled to turn and hunt as the tide was compelled to crest. It could come tonight still, but unless it was killed, it would return tomorrow for certain, mad with bloodlust.
Well past midnight, Griger blew out the candle and retired. The mattress was far too soft and it took him nearly a half hour of tossing, turning, and muttering curses to himself to find a position he liked. Once he did, he fell into a light sleep from which he was aroused near dawn by a knock at the door. One of the guards informed him that the blacksmith was finished with his sword, and after dressing, he and Farbin went to collect it. Comprising a simple blade with a guard and a grip, it was far from the most opulent weapon Griger had ever wielded, but it was well-suited to his needs and fit comfortably in his hand.
Back at the inn, Farbin gathered every available man under his command, including the constable and his three deputies, and ordered them to sweep the countryside as Griger had suggested the night before. They showed no reaction despite their lord’s strange request, and departed in a single file line.
The saloon opened for breakfast at six and Griger and Farbin each had a plate of eggs, bacon, and beans. People began to drift in as they ate, Sel the Drunkard at the head of the pack. The maiden, who quartered somewhere upstairs, came down in a simple white dress beneath a waist apron, and Griger’s eyes tracked her as she carried out her functions. The dress - loose and high cut - revealed nothing of her bosom, but pulled tight across her bottom when she leaned over to set food and coffee in front of her guests. Their gazes met, and her eyes flicked quickly away like two timid minnows in a fish bowl.
She was beautiful.
She reminded him of someone.
His mind went back to the jagged mountains atop the world, to a little cabin where weary travellers waited out the snowstorms that raged sometimes for weeks in the winter. There, in one of the most isolated outposts of the Realm, lived a woman Griger had known. She was tall and gaunt whereas the barmaid was average and healthy, her hair was black to the maiden’s blonde, but their eyes were the same breathtaking hazel. Now, staring at his plate, his chest stirred in a way that it hadn’t in years.
He didn’t like it.
“...else,” Farbin was saying.
“Yeah,” Griger said, as though he knew what Farbin had said. Now, the woman he loved one winter was on his mind and his mood was verging on foul. He recalled the way her hair brushed the creamy slope of her throat when she turned her head, the sound of her laughter, how her heels dug into his behind, urging him deeper unto her.
He was young, then, and a fool. People, he learned later, come and people go. Loving someone...indeed even hating them...was pointless, for in a breath of summer wind, they’re gone.
After finishing with breakfast, Farbin requested a metal tub be filled with water so that he could bathe. While he did that, Griger threaded his sword through his belt and walked down to the river, keeping his eyes open for wolf tracks. He spotted a few in the dirt edging the road, all pointing in the direction from which he had just come, and squatted down to examine one more closely.
Just before reaching the water, Sel’s farm appeared on the right, the main house seeming to sag in the middle as though under the burden of years and the field out back overgrown and gone to seed. The place looked as though it had died, come back to life, then died again. The screen door, which naturally hung askew, banged open, and Sel himself backed out butt first, a ceramic pot in his hands. He turned, saw Griger, and hesitated, then ducked his head and scurried down the stairs, disappearing around the side of the house Griger lingered a moment, then followed, tangles of grass pulling at his boots. In the back, a clear patch boasted several pots like the one Sel had come out with, each blossoming with an assortment of multicolored flowers. Sel knelt before one and heaped rich soil in with his hands. A gust of wind flipped his lank, white hair back and forth, and a satisfied smile played at the corners of his thin mouth.
“You garden?” Griger asked.
Sel shot him a dirty look. “I do,” he said, a defensive edge in his voice. He stopped, favored the flowers with a sober look, and added, “These plants are the only friends I’ve got.” He chuckled self-consciously.
“Plants seem like they’d make poor friends,” Griger said. “When the first frost comes, they leave you.”
Sel ticked his head to one side in acquiescence. “Tis better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all.”
An image of the girl at the top of the world flashed across Griger’s mind, and for a moment he could feel, feel, her presence. “I don’t believe that,” Griger said. “Loss is hard for a man who’s known love.”
“Still better than never knowing it at all,” Sel said and got stiffly to his feet. He dusted his hands on his pants.
“You’ve never lost someone,” Griger said.
“You’ve never loved someone,” Sel countered.
Griger stiffened. Mouthy old bastard, yes I have.
“What do you want?” Sel asked.
“I wanted to ask you about the werewolf.”
Sel’s face crinkled. “I told you everything I know.” He started walking back to the front of the house, and Griger fell in beside him.
“Is there anywhere around here you think a werewolf might live?” Griger asked. “Caves? Dens? Anything.”
“There’s some caves about,” Sel said, “other than that, I can’t say.”
They were on the porch now, Sel holding the door open.
“Can you tell me your story one more time?” Griger asked. “Maybe it might jog something you forgot.”
Sel sighed. “I don’t have nothin’, okay?”
He started to go inside, but Griger stopped him. “Please?”
The old man looked at him, then sighed. “Fine. Come in.”
They sat in Sel’s tiny and cluttered parlor. The furniture was as old and threadbare as the man who owned it, and the simple walls were crowded with old photos, many of them featuring a smiling woman with dark hair. She looked nothing like the girl at the top of the world, but Griger was reminded of her anyway. “Your wife?” he asked.
Sel, seated in an armchair across from him, busied himself pouring Griger a cup of tea. “Yes,” he said shortly.
From his tone - and the woman’s absence - Griger inferred that she was dead. “I’m sorry.”
Sel’s hand shook as he pushed the cup across the table. “So am I,” he said.
“Children?” Griger asked.
“Three,” Sel said. “Two boys and a girl.” Tears crept into the old man’s faded eyes and he fixed his gaze on a point over Griger’s shoulder. Open displays of emotion made Griger uncomfortable, and he shifted in his seat, sorry that he had brought the topic up. “We were married thirty years,” Sel said. His lips trembled and Griger thought he was going to break down crying. Instead, he smiled. “Those were good years.”
Griger nodded to himself. “I bet.”
He must not have sounded convincing, because Sel creased his brow. “Are you married?”
“No.”
“Ever loved someone?”
“No.”
Sel looked at him with a frank directness that bordered on mind-reading, and though it wasn’t possible, Griger could almost imagine the old man was seeing into his mind...and his heart. “You’re a liar.”
Griger considered his reply for a long time. “When I was a boy,” he said. “I thought I was in love.”
“What happened?”
Perhaps the old man had cast some kind of pall over him...or maybe he was in a rare mood...but Griger heard himself answer honestly. “I left her.”
A heavy silence lay between them.
“You left her?”
Griger nodded. “I moved on. She had her ways and I had mine. I didn’t see us working.”
“You regret it.”
“Yes,” Griger responded instantly. “I wish I tried.”
Sel nodded understandingly. “All boys make mistakes. Some are just luckier than others, I reckon.” He laughed, his posture relaxing, and Griger realized he was starting to like the old bastard.
“True,” he said. “Now your story…”
Sighing, Sel lifted a hand. “I don’t have much ways else to say.” He ran through his story just as he had before, with no additions or subtractions.
Griger nodded that he was satisfied, and got to his feet. “That’ll be all.”
Sel walked him to the door and stuck out his hand. “That damned thing’s a monster,” he said as they shook, “you watch yourself.”
“I can handle a werewolf,” Griger assured him.
Later on, after returning to the inn, Griger and Farbin rode out to meet the men on the other side of the river, catching up to them at a fork in the road. “No one’s sneezed or broken out, sire,” Farbin’s second-in-command, a tall, rodent-faced man, reported.
“Expand the dragnet,” Griger said.
Rat-face looked at Farbin for confirmation, and the Governor nodded.
They would find the wolf...or the wolf would find them.
Griger wanted the former, but would settle for the latter.
If he had to.

Got a 99 reg cab stepside. Has a single dome light lens with no switch. Interior light dimmer won't turn on the dome light when clicked up, and neither will the doors even though the Door Ajar lamp is lit. Checked every fuse for continuity. What could be the problem?

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