Chapter 12

EREBUS

Standing on the front porch of the small cabin I absentmindedly wipe my hands on my pants. I have never had sweaty palms in my whole life and here I am standing in front of a cabin that is no more than a shack sweating my balls off. Raising my hand to knock on the door it flies open before I get the chance. An elderly, but large man is standing in the doorway with a very large shotgun pointed at my head. Instinctively I growl loudly and the sound echoes off the trees surrounding the forest. The man enveloping the doorway does not flinch against my anger, he only cocks the shotgun in response.

Only a hunter would be brave enough to stand against me. “Walter Nash, I assume?” I cannot suppress the smirk that crosses my lips as the man tightens his arms around the gun.

“You look just like your father,” he grunts not lowering the gun.

A tiny woman runs to the door and shoves Walter to the side pushing the gun away from my face. A shot rings out just above my head an