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    Bigfoot Tracks: A Creep Squad Collection: Tales of the Creep Squad
    Bigfoot Tracks: A Creep Squad Collection: Tales of the Creep Squad
    Bigfoot Tracks: A Creep Squad Collection: Tales of the Creep Squad
    Ebook69 pages55 minutes

    Bigfoot Tracks: A Creep Squad Collection: Tales of the Creep Squad

    By Steve Vernon

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    About this ebook

    Everything that you have read about Bigfoot is a lie.

    Everything that you have HEARD about Bigfoot is the truth!

    Enjoy three stories from the files of The Creep Squad - that pack of cryptids, legends, and nondescript rumors who fight crime and misjustice anywhere that you aren't looking.

    What if ALL the stories were true?

    What if Bigfoot really did exist? What if he depended upon people's belief in him for his very existence? 

    What if he needed a job and the only he was suited for was keeping the other legends in their place?

    What if he joined the Creep Squad?

    If you enjoy these stories be sure to hunt up Steve Vernon's full-length Creep Squad novel, BIG HAIRY DEAL. 

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSteve Vernon
    Release dateJun 6, 2018
    ISBN9781386297307
    Bigfoot Tracks: A Creep Squad Collection: Tales of the Creep Squad
    Author

    Steve Vernon

    Everybody always wants a peek at the man behind the curtain. They all want to see just exactly what makes an author tick.Which ticks me off just a little bit - but what good is a lifetime if you can't ride out the peeve and ill-feeling and grin through it all. Hi! I am Steve Vernon and I'd love to scare you. Along the way I'll try to entertain you and I guarantee a giggle as well.If you want to picture me just think of that old dude at the campfire spinning out ghost stories and weird adventures and the grand epic saga of how Thud the Second stepped out of his cave with nothing more than a rock in his fist and slew the mighty saber-toothed tiger.If I listed all of the books I've written I'd most likely bore you - and I am allergic to boring so I will not bore you any further. Go and read some of my books. I promise I sound a whole lot better in print than in real life. Heck, I'll even brush my teeth and comb my hair if you think that will help any.For more up-to-date info please follow my blog at:http://stevevernonstoryteller.wordpress.com/And follow me at Twitter:@StephenVernonyours in storytelling,Steve Vernon

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      Book preview

      Bigfoot Tracks - Steve Vernon

      What Folks Say About Steve Vernon

      IF HARLAN ELLISON, Richard Matheson and Robert Bloch had a three-way sex romp in a hot tub, and then a team of scientists came in and filtered out the water and mixed the leftover DNA into a test tube, the resulting genetic experiment would most likely grow up into Steve Vernon. – Bookgasm

      Steve Vernon is something of an anomaly in the world of horror literature. He's one of the freshest new voices in the genre although his career has spanned twenty years. Writing with a rare swagger and confidence, Steve Vernon can lead his readers through an entire gamut of emotions from outright fear and repulsion to pity and laughter. - Cemetery Dance

      Armed with a bizarre sense of humor, a huge amount of originality, a flair for taking risks and a strong grasp of characterization - Steve's got the chops for sure. - Dark Discoveries

      Steve Vernon is a hard writer to pin down. And that’s a good thing. – Dark Scribe Magazine

      This genre needs new blood and Steve Vernon is quite a transfusion. –Edward Lee, author of FLESH GOTHIC and CITY INFERNAL

      Steve Vernon is one of the finest new talents of horror and dark fiction - Owl Goingback, author of CROTA

      Steve Vernon was born to write. He's the real deal and we're lucky to have him. - Richard Chizmar

      Three Thousand Miles of Cold Iron Tears

      NOTHING REEKS WORSE than a sopping wet Sasquatch.

      It was mid-November and the sky looked dark enough to hold a grudge against the dirt for a very long time. It had rained down sleet all morning long and I was sogged straight through to the bone. The wind was blowing in hard from the Rockies and I was not happy at all to be standing here in the Eagle Pass, staring at a large shed-encased mural by the side of the Canadian Pacific Railway at a point in the landscape that men called Craigellachie.

      I don’t really know who painted the mural but there was a good strength showing in his brushstroke. He had made a sound choice in his colors, as well. The hopeful blue skyline blended nicely with the heavy umber figures. The shed that covered the mural was about nine feet high and it was almost tall enough for me to stand beneath.

      Almost.

      There was a story in the mural and stories were something that I understood. You see, that is what I am. I was a living story – something that people told around lonely smoking campfires. I was a Sasquatch – a nine foot tall shag carpet with a serious-bad attitude. I was a legend and a rural myth and a totally unsubstantiated rumor. Like I said, just a story – only stories, if told well and often enough, in time grow a life of their own.

      I can’t really explain to you how it happens. It’s not as if I came into this world with a user’s guide. All that I can tell you is that the Sasquatch have been told into life since back in the days of the Mesopotomania storytellers who spoke in hushed whispers of the exploits of Enkidu and Gilgamesh – and so long as your people continued to tell stories about random hirsute giants growing up in the wilderness and sometimes being raised by wolves or African great apes, then we will continue to live on in the borderlands that haze and drift warily between the carefully demarcated lines that claim to separate the cold steel facts of reality from the warm pure smoke of your collective imagination.

      So were you there? I asked.

      I was there, the ghost of Sam Steele replied.

      I don’t see you in the picture, I said.

      I was there, Sam repeated. Take my word for it.

      Maybe you weren’t so ugly back then, I offered. Maybe I just don’t recognize you.

      I was there, Sam Steele’s ghost echoed for the third time. I just wasn’t in the picture, is all.

      Sam was a story, too. The real Sam Steele had died back in 1919 – after fighting with the Fenians, chasing Louis Riel during the Red River Rebellion, meeting in a sit-down wiki-up with the great Sitting Bull himself, single-handedly taming the Klondike and fighting a half a thousand Boers over in Boerland. Not all of that is true, you understand but the gist of it is. Sam’s actual exploits had grown to near mythic status.

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