Title: Just South of Middle-of-Nowhere
Characters: Tony, Tim, Gibbs, and an OMC (and a supernatural baddie)
Genre: Supernatural/Horror
Rating: T
Warnings: Weirdness, foul language, violence, and a really bad pun
Disclaimer: Don't own, just playing, yadda yadda
NFA hangman prize for KayleighBough who requested a supernatural one shot that somehow involves duckboards. It turned out much longer than I originally intended, but I guess it still qualifies as a "one-shot".
The title comes from a Twilight Zone segment closing monologue (Welcome to Winfield). Since I'm originally from Maryland, I decided to set the story there, and to include an indigenous supernatural entity. I hope you like it ;)
XXXXX
"What's in the bag, McGee?" Tony asked as the younger agent climbed into the passenger seat of the sedan. McGee set the bag in question on the floor between his feet.
"Peace offering. The clerk said we'd have better luck with Crandell if we brought along a bottle of something, and he owed Crandell, so…"
Luther Crandell, the father of a missing Marine corporal, was the reason for the trip to their current location. They had driven to this small town in western Maryland under Gibbs' orders, as the lead agent believed Crandell could shed some light on his son's whereabouts.
"What did he mean by 'better luck'?" Tony asked with a hint of annoyance. He really wasn't in the mood to deal with a difficult interviewee.
"He'll be less likely to try and shoot us."
"Oh. Great." Tony guided the sedan away from the gas station-slash-general store and checked the GPS. Five more miles to go. "Did the clerk tell you anything else?"
"Just that Crandell is pretty much a hermit and only comes to town about once a month for supplies. The son does visit, but only about once a year."
"Doesn't sound like they're all that close. I really hope this trip isn't for nothing."
"At least it gets us out of the office for awhile."
"Good point."
They traveled the last few miles in silence. When the GPS indicated that they had reached their destination, Tony pulled the car off the road, only to find a small gravel parking lot and a path that led into the forest.
"This is it?" he asked, looking around for some sort of dwelling.
"Well, no. Apparently this is as far as we can get in a car. We have to walk the rest of the way," replied McGee as he opened the door and stepped out of the sedan.
"How far is it?"
"Four miles, that way." He pointed towards the path. "Looks like it's mainly through flat areas and swamp. Could be worse."
"How?" Tony hated the assignment more with each passing moment.
"It could be mosquito season."
"Wonderful. Let's get a move on, Probie."
McGee ignored the hated nickname and headed toward the path to Crandell's property. "The clerk mentioned one more thing."
"Oh yeah, what was that?"
"Apparently this place has quite a reputation for being, well, unsafe. He even said there are rules that anyone who passes through should know."
"What are they?"
"'Don't go alone, stay on the path, and get out before dark.'"
"This just keeps getting better and better. Did he say why?"
"Just the local legend about something that lives in the area and preys on travelers. He wasn't real specific. Probably a tale to thrill tourists."
"Probably, but we should get moving anyway. I'm not looking forward to being anywhere near here after dark. This place looks like something out of Deliverance."
McGee smirked and started to hum "Dueling Banjos". Tony grinned and joined in as they started down the path.
XXX
They had gone about two miles when the terrain changed and they reached a swampy area. The path now consisted of wide wooden planks supported on the ends by logs.
"Well look here: Middle-of-Nowhere has a boardwalk," snarked Tony.
"I think we're just south of that locale, and these are actually duckboards."
"You're making that up."
"I'm not. Duckboards are made from split logs, set parallel to each other and anchored at the ends, just like these. They're used by hikers to cross boggy areas safely and are often constructed in swamps or near the shores of a lake. They're really popular in Europe, usually used in nature preserves, and in some places they literally go on for miles."
"You don't say…" Tony carefully stepped onto one of the planks and, when he was convinced it was sufficiently sturdy, started down the first set of boards. McGee followed and continued his narrative.
"Yep. They were also used during World War one to line the bottoms of trenches in the front lines in order to keep the soldiers' feet dry and to make in easier to move though the trenches. A soldier could actually drown in the mud if he fell off the duckboards, so they were there for safety as well. Today they're used in factories as platforms—."
"You know," interrupted Tony, "if I wanted the full lecture, I would have asked Ducky."
McGee was silent for a moment before a grin spread across his face. "And then you would have been Duck-bored."
Tony stopped in mid-step, parsed what McGee had said, and groaned. "You were just waiting to use that, weren't you, McPunny?"
"You did ask…"
"Next time I won't. C'mon, we still have a ways to go." Tony started walking again and had gone only a few yards when he noticed something. "Hey McGee, what do you make of this?" He pointed to a symbol carved in the middle of the board. McGee caught up with him and looked down.
"It's an acute heptagram. A 7/3, or 'great heptagram'."
"Which means what, exactly?"
"A seven-pointed star with a smaller seven pointed star inside."
"Yeah, I can see that McGee. Why is it here?"
"Not really sure. I saw this same shape on several barns in the area. Some sort of protection symbol, maybe?"
"For protection against whatever supposedly preys on travelers, no doubt. Just some local superstitious nonsense."
"I guess. It is a mathematically interesting symbol, though. Did you know that this is the smallest polygon that can be drawn as two irreducible fractions? And-."
"Enough talk, McWiki. Let's go."
As they continued down the path, Tony noted several more of the stars carved into the boards. He would never admit it but their presence spurned an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. He tried to dismiss it but the feeling remained. He decided he would be very happy when this particular assignment was over.
XXX
When they finally reached Crandell's residence, Tony barely managed to hide his frustration. They saw no sign of the man.
"Looks like he's not home," commented McGee.
Before Tony could retort, the silence was shattered by a shotgun blast. Both agents immediately took cover and unholstered their weapons.
"Luther Crandell?" yelled Tony, cautiously peaking around the pile of logs that served as their hiding place.
"Who the hell are you?"
The man, wild-haired, bearded, dressed in jeans and a blue plaid shirt and carrying a shotgun, came into view. He was every bit as scary looking as Tony had anticipated.
"Special Agents Anthony DiNozzo and Timothy McGee, NCIS. That's Naval-."
"I know what it is. Spent ten years in the Marines, but back then it was NIS. What the hell do you want?"
"We need to ask you some questions about your son."
"Jed? What's that dumb sonofabitch done now?"
"He's missing, Mr. Crandell," replied McGee. "We need to know if you have an idea what could have happened."
"Aw, fuck," muttered Crandell. "You might as well come out so we can talk civil-like."
Tony and McGee stood and stepped out from behind the woodpile, their weapons still at the ready. Crandell studied them briefly and chuckled. "You won't need those, boys. I'm all bark."
"Yeah, I can see that," muttered Tony, eyeing the shotgun. Crandell grinned.
"Did you stop in town before heading out here?"
"Yes, sir," answered McGee, and pulled a bag from his knapsack. "Chris Dressler sent this for you."
Crandell took the proffered bag and pulled out the bottle inside. "Ol' Grandad. Tightwad bastard. Guess I won't have to drink alone, though," he said with a wink.
"We're on duty, sir."
"Wasn't talking about you two…never mind. Why don't you two come inside and tell me what happened with my boy?" He turned and started toward a large log cabin with a wide front porch. After a glance the two agents followed.
As they stepped into the cabin, Tony and McGee looked around, surprise registering on McGee's face. The interior was plain, but scrupulously clean. Crandell noted McGee's expression and snorted.
"Just because I'm a hermit don't mean I'm a slob, Agent McGee. It just means I don't like people much."
"Then who were planning on drinking with, sir?"
"Why my dear Ol' Grandad, of course. He's the only one who will hang out with me," he replied with a grin.
"It's from a song, Probie," said Tony, smirking at McGee's confusion. "I'll tell you about it later."
"Oh, right, OK. Mr. Crandell-."
"Call me Luth." He pulled a couple of chairs up to the kitchen table. "Have a seat."
Tony and McGee lowered themselves into the chairs as Crandell turned to rummage around in the cabinets near the kitchen sink. Hell pulled out a couple of battered metal mugs, filled them with coffee from a pot on the stove, and set them down in front of the two men.
"Hope ya take it black, I'm all out of that fancy crap they put in coffee nowadays. My boy brought me some on his last visit, but that was about eight months ago. Haven't seen him since, but I got a letter from him just last week. He writes every week, whether he's got somethin' interestin' to say or not. Usually not."
Tony could see right through the man's bluster. He was worried for his son.
"Was there anything in his last letter that would indicate a problem? A reason why he would have disappeared?"
"Not that I noticed." He got up from the table and went to a small desk in the corner, opened a drawer and pulled out an envelope which he brought back to the table. "You can read it, no secrets in there."
Tony nodded to McGee, who pulled out a pair of gloves from his bag and put them on before picking up the envelope.
"Postmarked from Quantico." He carefully pulled out the letter and started to read. "Just stuff about his unit…a movie he saw two weeks ago…nothing about any fights or conflict…sounds pretty happy, actually. We should probably have Du—Dr. Mallard read this, though. Do you mind?"
"Long as I get it back, no. So what exactly happened?"
Tony pulled out his notebook. "Corporal Jedediah Crandall failed to report for duty two days ago. Members of his unit said he had been on a three-day leave to visit family. After a search of his residence we determined that he had not been home the night before he failed to report for duty. We though he might have come here during his leave and something delayed his return."
"You check the hospitals and all that?"
"Routine, sir."
"Well he hasn't been here, and he didn't mention he was coming to visit. Don't know what 'family' he was talking about, since I'm the only one of those he has…except…ah, hell."
"What?"
"His high-school sweetheart, Mary Worthington. When Jed joined up right out of high school, her daddy decided he didn't want his little girl to marry a Jarhead and he broke them up. I always suspected they kept in touch. He probably went to see her."
"Where does she live?"
"Elkton." He went back to the desk and returned with a pencil and a scrap of paper, where he wrote down an address. He handed the paper to Tony. "Let me know what happens. You can leave word with Chris in town. It will save you a trip out here, at least." He glanced out the window. "Although you might want to stay here tonight. The sun is setting, and you won't make it out before dark."
"We'll be fine, sir," said McGee. "The path is easy to follow, and we have flashlights."
"That's not what I'm worried about, Agent McGee. You don't want to be out there after dark. It's not safe."
"We're armed, sir," Tony reminded him. "The local wildlife won't be a problem."
Crandell's answering chuckle was devoid of humor. "Those little pea-shooters you boys are carrying won't be worth Jack Shit against…it."
Tony shot McGee a look and he answered with a nod on understanding. This guy was nuts after all.
"What, exactly, is 'it'?"
"Yeah, I know, you think I'm crazy, but when you stopped in town Chris would have told you the rules. There's a reason for those rules. This thing, it's a nasty customer."
"You've seen it?"
"Once. I was lucky." He pulled up the sleeve of his jacket and showed them three jagged scars which marred his forearm. "I managed to get to safety."
Tony stared at the scars, which looked a lot like claw marks. Bear? Mountain lion, maybe?
"Mr. Crandell, what exactly attacked you?" asked McGee, concern and worry battling it out in his expression.
"The Snallygaster," Crandell replied with a shudder.
"The what?" exclaimed Tony, barely able to keep the laughter out of his tone. "Snallygaster? I thought that was a drink or something." He turned to McGee and was startled to see a serious look on younger agent's face.
"The name comes from Schneller Geist, German for 'quick spirit'. It's a mythical beast, part bird, part reptile," responded McGee.
"It's not mythical," growled Crandell. "Folks in this town have known about it for generations, only a few have seen it, or at least lived to tell about it."
"I thought they were found a bit farther east, in Frederick County?" McGee seemed genuinely curious.
"Usually, but the story goes that one of the first settlers passing though that area found an egg, and, not knowing what it was, took it with him. He got lost in that swamp out there and was never seen again. But after that something new was out there, and people started to disappear. Didn't you see the seven-pointed stars? They're there to keep it at bay. If you're damn fool enough to be out there after dark, stay on the duckboards, you'll be safe."
"Okay," drawled Tony, still trying to keep serious and failing. "I think we can handle it. Come on, McFreaky, let's get back to civilization." McGee shot him a dirty look before rising from his chair. He turned to Crandell.
"Sorry about that. We will let you know if…when we find your son, Mr. Crandell…Luth."
Crandell reached down and picked up his shotgun, which he then handed to McGee. He dug into his pocket and handed the agent a couple more shells.
"If you make it out, you can leave the gun with Chris. I've got another one." He turned to Tony. "And I'm not stupid enough to be out there at night, with or without it."
"Yeah, whatever. Thank you for your time, Mr. Crandell." Tony turned and walked out the door. After a brief pause, McGee followed.
XXX
When they were out of earshot, Tony turned to McGee, who was holding the shotgun in a death grip.
"Don't tell me you actually believe that crap. How did you know so much about that Smellyguester anyway?
"Snallygaster. I took a folklore class in college. It was one of the legends we discussed, and no, I don't believe it, but something attacked Crandell. It can't hurt to be prepared, and a pistol isn't much good against a bear if that is what's out here."
"Most likely…so, tell me more about this class. It doesn't sound like your kind of subject. Wait. It was because of a girl, right?"
McGee blushed slightly. "The class was recommended to me by my peers."
"Ah ha, so it was the teacher who was hot. Attaboy, Probie," grinned Tony, clapping his partner on the shoulder.
"Knock it off, Tony. Let's just get back to the car."
"Sure thing, McScaredy-cat."
McGee huffed and marched forward through the forest. The light was fading quickly, and the moon was just visible on the horizon. As they walked, Tony could hear a faint rustling as small woodland creatures made their way through the underbrush. In the distance he could hear something making a chirping noise.
"What is that?" he wondered out loud.
"Spring peepers…frogs," muttered McGee.
"They sound happy."
"That's one way to put it."
Tony chuckled, slightly relieved that his partner was speaking to him again. "So tell me more about this Snally-thing."
"Snallygaster. There are legends about some sort of dragon-like creature in west-central Maryland dating back to the 1700's. The legend re-surfaced in the early 1900's and supposed 'sightings' caused quite a stir. In reality the whole thing was cooked up by a bunch of hacks to sell more newspapers. They claimed the creature died by drowning in a vat of whiskey."
"What did it look like…supposedly?
"Reports varied, but it was usually described as part bird, part reptile, with leathery wings and a long dragon-like tail. Some claimed it had just one eye in the center of its forehead, others claimed it had tentacles."
"Sounds like a bad Japanese horror flick. What did this thing supposedly do?"
"Again, claims varied. It usually preyed on chickens and small children, but was also known for carrying off grown men. There were stories about it sucking the blood of its victims or poisoning people with its breath."
"Yikes. So why do you suppose Crandell chose that as his 'monster'?"
"No idea. Old family tale, maybe? There was a book put out about the legend a couple of years ago, maybe he read it."
"And how did you know about that?" asked Tony with a smirk.
"Someone recommended it to me."
"That someone, does she have a name?" Tony didn't receive an answer and after walking a bit further he noticed that McGee was no longer beside him. He turned to see McGee standing stock-still a few yards away, a wary expression on his face.
"What's wrong?"
"Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"Exactly." The woods had gone quiet, and even the peepers had ceased their chorus. "Do you know why the area would suddenly get silent?"
"A predator is close?"
"Yeah…we should get moving." The noiseless forest was getting darker by the second.
"Fine, but give me the shotgun. It'll knock you on your ass, McSkinny."
Suddenly McGee's eyes widened in horror. "Tony, LOOK OUT!"
Tony turned, and caught a glimpse of something from a nightmare. Before he could take in what he was seeing, he felt something push him from behind and he fell to the ground. The impact was followed immediately by the boom of a shotgun and a blood-curdling shriek. Something wet and slimy slapped the back of his head and he heard more shrieking which soon faded. Gingerly he reached up and touched the back of his head. He brought his hand down in front of his face and saw it was covered with a green gelatinous substance.
"Probie?" he ventured, almost afraid to turn over.
"Tony! Are you okay?"
Tony rolled over and met the terrified eyes of his partner. He managed a weak, lopsided grin.
"He slimed me…"
"Yeah, you're lucky that's all it did…let's get the hell out of here before it comes back."
"Was that-?"
"Looks like it."
"Damn…"
"Yeah. Looks like you owe Crandell an apology, and a thank you for lending us the shotgun. Come on." McGee helped him to his feet and they started running. When they reached the edge of the forest, they paused for breath and looked around. They heard another shriek in the distance which propelled them forward.
"It sounds like a raptor," gasped Tony as he ran.
"Bird of prey?"
"No, velociraptor, like in that movie Jurassic Park."
"Oh."
They were about a hundred yards from the swamp and duckboards when they heard another shriek, louder and much closer.
"Crap! Run, Tim!" Tony put on a burst of speed. Suddenly, he heard his partner's terrified scream.
"TONY!"
He spun around and almost fell when he took in the scene illuminated by the rising moon. McGee was being lifted off the ground, the claws of the creature imbedded in his shoulders and two snake-like appendages were starting to wrap around his waist. Tony saw the shotgun lying useless on the ground below and drew his own weapon, aiming for that single blood-red eye. He pulled the trigger twice and the creature bellowed, a sound that caused Tony's stomach to clench. It dropped McGee and disappeared into the darkness. Tony rushed forward, barely catching the younger agent before they both collapsed. After a few seconds, Tony managed to find his voice and he tried to rouse McGee.
"McGee? Tim? You with me?" No response. Tony gently slapped his partner's pale face. "Come on, man, wake up, we've got to get out of here." McGee's eyelids fluttered and finally opened.
"T-tony?"
"Yeah, it's me. I stopped you from being a Snally-snack, buddy."
"Thanks. Did you kill it?"
"No, I think I just pissed it off." He pulled himself to his feet before helping McGee. "You're bleeding."
"Least of my worries. How far are we from the duckboards?"
"Seventy, eighty yards, maybe. You really think those star things will protect us?"
"Do you have a better idea?"
"No, I guess not." He grabbed the shotgun and they started off again as fast as they could. He saw that McGee was limping badly but the younger man never made a sound. "Are you okay?"
"I'll manage. How much further?"
"We're almost-." Another shriek shattered the night and instinctively they both hit the ground. Tony felt the creature's claws rake down his back and he barely muffled a scream. He heard the retort of McGee's SIG, and a shriek of pain.
"McGee!"
"I'm okay. I've really had enough of this…motherfucker!" Tony had to chuckle at his friend's rare use of profanity.
"You and me both, buddy." He rolled over and McGee helped him to his feet.
"You're bleeding, too."
"Like you said, least of my worries." He turned toward their destination. "Not much further. Let's go." They managed to make the last few yards without incident and nearly fell when their feet touched the boards.
"Let's keep moving. I for one am not putting my faith in a few lines scratched in the wood." McGee just nodded and they continued along the path. They made it halfway before their stalker returned, heralded by its tell-tale shriek.
"I really hate that sound," muttered McGee and they stumbled along as fast as they could. Surprisingly, the shrieks soon faded. Tony looked around and saw no sign of the creature.
"You don't think…?"
"I don't know," gasped McGee. "But I'm not waiting around to find out."
They had almost made it to the end of the boards, well aware that they still had two miles to go, when they received a nasty shock. The creature was waiting for them, about seventy-five yards from the end of the last board.
"Crap," growled Tony as he avoided looking at it. The sight of it hurt his mind. Finally he spared it a glance and swore that it was grinning at them. "Now what?"
"Out of effective range of both the shotgun and our SIGs. It's smart, and I don't think it will give up very easily."
"So, what, we have to wait here until morning?"
"Looks like it."
"Great. Remind me when we find that Marine to kick his ass."
"Yeah, good luck with that."
They sat in silence for several minutes. Suddenly, he heard a soft gasp from McGee.
"Probie? What's wrong?"
"I wonder…" He started to dig around in his knapsack, which, mercifully, had escaped most of the damage its owner had sustained. Tony saw him pull out two pieces of paper and a pencil.
"What are you doing?" McGee didn't answer but started to mumble to himself. Concerned and trying to hide it, Tony looked over McGee's shoulder to see what he was doing.
The younger agent had drawn one of the same symbols that adorned the duckboards on one of the pieces of paper. With a satisfied grin, he stood and moved to the end of the wooden pathway. The creature rose in anticipation as McGee approached.
"McGee!" Tony hissed. "What in the hell are you doing?"
McGee ignored him and yelled at the creature. "Hey, Ugly!" The single eye blinked and it cocked its head. "Look what I have!" He held up the paper. The creature blinked again and growled.
"Uh, Tim, it's probably not a good idea to piss it off even more…"
"Look! I can take this one with me! I'm protected! Now get out of here! "
The creature started to back up, blinking and shaking its head. Finally, it bellowed with apparent rage and with one mighty flap of its giant, bat-like wings, it flew off into the night. As soon as its angry shrieks had faded, McGee fell to his knees. Tony rushed forward to help.
"Are you okay?"
"I can't believe that actually worked," muttered McGee. Tony couldn't help it. He grinned.
"Alright, Probie! That's using that gigantic brain of yours!"
"Yeah, yeah." He staggered to his feet, grabbed the second piece of paper and carefully replicated the symbol. "Here, hold on to that."
"Don't worry, I will. Now let's get the hell out of here."
"Best idea I've heard all day."
XXX
It was almost midnight when they reached the Yard, exhausted. An emergency blanket had protected the sedan from most of the gore, leaving them with one less thing to explain when they got back, and for that they were grateful.
They had decided not to stop at a hospital since they weren't quite ready to explain their injuries. They hoped that maybe Ducky would still be around, ask fewer questions, and patch them up as he often did. They also hoped Gibbs would be long gone, but in that case their luck ran out. He was waiting for them when they tried to sneak into autopsy.
"Where the hell have you two been?" Gibbs growled.
"We ran into a bit of a snag, boss," Tony glibly replied. "We did get a lead on our missing Marine. He probably went to-."
"Elkton, to visit his old girlfriend. Apparently on the way back he swerved to avoid a deer and ran into a ditch. The state highway patrol found him a few hours ago."
"Dead?"
"No. He's in pretty bad shape, but they think he'll make it. Which is more than I can say for you two if you don't tell me what happened."
"Boss, uh, I don't really think you'd believe us if we told you." Gibbs turned to glare at McGee, who was barely keeping himself upright. With one swift movement, Gibbs stepped forward and caught the young agent before his strength gave out completely and he hit the floor.
"McGee?"
"I'm okay, Boss."
"No, you're not. You either, Tony. I repeat, what the hell happened?"
"Boss, you…like McGee said, you really won't believe us."
"Try me."
Tony glanced at his partner and sighed. It was going to be a really long night.
THE END
A/N: The song Crandell quotes is "I Drink Alone", by George Thorogood and the Delaware Destroyers. It's an amusing song ;)
The Snallygaster legend is fairly well known in its home state, and a book was recently published about it: Snallygaster: The Lost Legend of Frederick County (which I have not read, unfortunately). A "Snallygaster" is also a drink, as Tony mentioned. It's made with vanilla ice cream and Mountain Dew.