Kamikazi Pigs

Kamikaze Pigs

By J.A. Sprouls

Published by J.A. Sprouls at Smashwords

Copyright J.A. Sprouls 2012

Cover Design Copyright J.A. Sprouls 2012

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Mace Of Spades

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Kamikaze Pigs

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An Accidental Pirate: The Adventures of Captain Pigtail McQueue

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A Vision Touch

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Cowabunga Dead

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Death Drives a Chevy

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Armadillo Trackers

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/550519

An Abigail Dumpling Adventure: The Search for Gaul's Stone

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1136944

Connect with Me Online:

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http://jasprouls.blogspot.com/

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Dedicated to my Mother, Sister,

Amazing Grace

For always being there!

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

About the Author

~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1

Great googly moogly, Jacey, it’s not his body parts it’s… it’s pig parts. Yes, the road is scattered with pig parts. Good gracious, the flying feral pigs have gone kamikaze! Those were the very words Doc exclaimed that pretty much started the whole sordid mess. And to think it all started out in a rather innocuous manner on a rather bland, warm, spring day.

I believe the saying goes 'The early bird gets the worm.' If that's the case then Dr. Seth Herne should be set if he decides to go fishing. Of course, in his case, it will probably be some sort of mutant worm that has wreaked havoc on some poor local farmer. And even though he had gotten up early to find said worm, the creature would elude him. That pretty much gives you the life and times of Dr. Seth Herne.

He's a Cryptozoologist. He searches for animals from folklore or myths or just simply legends. ‘Crypto’ means hidden and ‘zoology’ means animals, so you combine the two and get ‘cryptozoology’ - hidden animals. That means, in Billy Bob Bubba terms, that he chases after unknown animals like Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, and the Abominable Snowman. In his case, he is more inclined to search for our own local legends, the Giant Horny Toad known in these parts as Ketzial, or for a Jackalope, and so forth. There is no college or university out there that will give a degree in Cryptozoology, so he has christened himself a Doctor of Cryptozoology. Though he prefers to be called by the acronym of it, in other words, he likes to be called Doc. Not very original but it fits Doc and his personality, not to mention his sense of humor.

He is a very die-hard and devoted Cryptozoologist. This is why he is up at the crack of dawn. He figured that the giant horny toad had to sleep and being of a lizard family then it might be easier to actually catch in the cool of the early morning. Cold-blooded creatures tend to be much more lethargic when the weather is cool. That however doesn't explain why the heck I'm out here this early in the morning. After all, I hate worms and therefore have no desire to find any or beat any birds to them. And that doesn't even take into account that it's freezing this morning. I am soooo not an outdoorswoman. I'm an ‘indoors, feet up, hot cocoa in my hand and a good book on my lap’ type of woman. But I just happen to work part-time for Doc so that means I have to follow his whims even if it goes against my very nature.

You see, I really need this job. I also really need my other job also. Between the two, I am able to live relatively comfortably. But if I had just one of either job then I would be in trouble, financially, that is. I also work as an RCA for the U.S. Post Office. That's a rural carrier associate, a really big title for a sub. It means I work just one day a week, but the pay is good. The rumors that the Post Office might go to just five days a week means there is a very good chance that I might lose my job there. I work one day so the regular carrier can have a five-day work week and if they lost the six-day delivery then there would be no need for an RCA, though I did get a good amount of work when the regular carrier went on vacation, which was nice. Since the Post Office in Tree, Texas is a small rural one, then it means that if the carrier on the route I'm assigned was to retire then it would automatically become my route and I would be a regular carrier and not a piddly little sub anymore. The problem with that is the regular carrier whose route I'm assigned to is only 38 years old and I don't see her retiring anytime soon. Piddle! But when you combine the two jobs, I get a pretty good paycheck. So I can't complain. But I need to be sure to do everything I can to keep both of these jobs. This is why I’m out here in the middle of scrub brush, bear grass, and mesquite trees freezing what little a rear end I have, off.

Doc is over by a mesquite tree looking for tracks made by Ketzial. He has his miner cap equipped with a flashlight on top so his hands are free to pick up any evidence that he may come across. He also has his digital camcorder just in case he unexpectedly manages to cross paths with the giant horny toad. In fact, he has a whole ensemble he has created to make his expeditions easier to manage. Mainly, it consists of a vest with lots of pockets. Inside each pocket are multiple items that help him collect and preserve evidence of these species. He has a backpack filled with water bottles and MREs. That stands for ‘Meals, Ready to Eat.’ These require no cooking, in fact, some have their very own heat source so you can have a hot meal out in the middle of nowhere. And let’s face it; food is very important to Doc.

Doc is a short rotund kinda guy with silver hair on the sides of his head, a mustache, and a goatee beard. He has a couple of chins, which I think is the main reason he has a beard, to hide a portion of the second one. He’s only a few inches taller than me, which isn’t saying a whole heck of a lot. I’m only five foot two and I fudged that on my driver’s license but since it’s listed on an official document then I’m sticking with that. Doc could very easily be confused with Santa Claus. Which I think would be a more noteworthy mythological objective than any giant horny toad, any day, mainly because Santa comes bearing gifts, which is a heck of a lot more then has been said about Ketzial. The only thing I know about horny toads is that their defense mechanism is to spit blood from their eyes, a feat that I would prefer never to witness. Though I haven’t found anyone that has confirmed that they actually do this, I still plan to keep my distance if we ever find one. Apparently, there were no tracks under that particular tree because Doc headed south to a clump of bear grass. I sighed and headed after him at a bit of a trot. Considering his weight, he can move rather fast, though it’s normally in quick short sprints.

Doc is a direct descendant of the town’s founder, Obadiah Herne. He named the town Tree after planting an oak tree on his property sometime in the mid-1830s. Oaks are not regularly found in West Texas so they have to be brought in by other sources. His descendants were so successful growing the trees that they created an empire with acorn flour. They ended up making millions during the ‘hippie natural foods’ days and it’s making a bit of a comeback with the organic craze that is going on at the moment. As I understand it, the main things you have to get rid of with acorns are the bitter tannins that would make you sick and constipated. But his family apparently figured out a way in which to do this economically. It’s with the fortune his family made (and that he has increased through internet sales) that he created the Herne Institute of Cryptozoology. An institute dedicated to the search and understanding of undocumented creatures. It must be nice to have so much money that you can spend your day and money looking for something that probably doesn’t exist.

Suddenly Doc jerks his head up and says, Did you hear that, Jacey?

Um, no. What was it I was supposed to hear?

I heard a squeal from on high. Didn’t you hear it?

No. ‘From on high?’ Is that some sort of religious reference? Because if it is I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to use religious references when trying to hunt down one of God’s creatures, mythical or otherwise, God might take exception to that and strike you with lightning.

I’m not trying to track it down to kill it. I’m trying to find it in order to study and better understand it, thus allowing it and all humans to live in harmony together. So that is such a good intention that I don’t believe God or anyone’s God would smite me with lightning. But I digress. Or more approximately, you digress and nearly knocked my train of thought off the tracks. I had asked if you heard that squeal. It came from the sky. This is what I meant when I said ‘on high.’ I thought if you had heard it then we might be able to get a direction on it and follow. I’m not just out here looking for Ketzial. Other animals must be discovered who are equally as elusive, Doc pointed out.

Oh? And what such creature squeals from the sky? I sincerely hoped that he was talking about some type of bird and not something totally absurd, not that I haven’t found his absurdities amusing but they do tend to lead to longer treks in the outdoors.

Why, flying pigs, of course. He said this as though it was the only logical conclusion a person could come up with. I do hope it is a domesticated flying pig and not one of the feral flying pigs. The feral ones have a tendency to be territorial and therefore can unload feces on your head to get you to leave the area.

Flying Crap! Dung Bombs! Just what I need! I thought that flying pigs were a saying and not an actual creature. After all, most people generally say something is gonna happen when ‘pigs fly,’ meaning it’s not likely to happen. So that is just a means by which to express skepticism isn’t it?

Good gracious me, no, what you and most people don’t realize is that most sayings have a basis of reality in them. Think about it, why did someone choose a ‘flying pig’ when something more absurd would have sufficed if they were simply trying to make a point? I would think under those circumstances then they would have picked an elephant performing ballet. That makes it outside the realm of possibility and therefore more convincing simply as a saying. I mean to say, elephants couldn’t get those toe shoes on, let alone find a tutu big enough. They don’t really have toes, per se. So that would be totally ridiculous, now wouldn’t it? No, they used a pig because someone somewhere had witnessed one flying and could not believe their eyes. So they belittled what they saw by turning it into a so-called saying and making the absurd from the real. That way they would not sound crazy or unstable, so obviously, flying pigs exist when you look at it from that point of view.

Yeah, right, obviously. You know Doc; your logic is really mind-boggling. It’s also rather entertaining. So you believe there are flying pigs ready to drop a load on us right now? If that’s the case then you should have warned me so I could have brought an umbrella or a hardhat.

Well, Jacey, I haven’t heard or seen any evidence of flying pigs in this general area, otherwise I most certainly would have warned you. I figured we would be safe from them. But that doesn’t mean they don’t expand their territory now and then. I mean we have no studies to know what they do, which is why my search and ultimate study of these elusive animals is so profoundly important. I must find these animals to know what they do, why and how, and all those other important questions.

I said quietly under my breath, Yeah, and to make all those people who make fun of you shut their big fat traps too.

He chuckled a little and said, Yes, I would dearly love to shove the evidence under their upturned noses, but the main reason for my searches is to uncover the truth and help us to learn about these great creatures. That is the ultimate quest and reward for this research.

Just out of curiosity, Doc, how did they get domesticated flying pigs? I mean wouldn’t a pig farmer get a wee bit suspicious if one of their charges sprouted wings?

Not necessarily, Jacey. No. I think that the breeder would be focused simply on keeping them healthy and fat for the market. They would not see the wings, most particularly since they fold up under the belly. And let’s face it; most pigs have big bellies so they have a lot of fat to hide the wings. Oh, and I don’t call them ‘pig farmers.’ They don’t take pig seeds and plant them, now do they? Nope. They raise them from piglets and so they are ‘pig breeders.’ I believe we need to call them what they are so as not to confuse the issue. And as far as their noticing, I think there are so many regular pigs in their care and so few of the domesticated pigs that actually grow wings. You add to the mixture the fact that the pigs use those very wings to escape their pens, then the breeders just simply don’t get the chance to inspect them as thoroughly as they should. And that means the domesticated pigs must fend for themselves in the wild. And what with all the feral flying hogs, then there is great competition for food. So they must fight to survive and they weren’t trained to do anything but eat and roll in the mud. So most domesticated ones end up dying early but there are a few, I believe, that manage to make it and those are the ones I would rather study simply because…

They aren’t pelting you with dung drops, right? I finished his sentence for him.

No, actually I prefer them because they have experienced interaction with humans and therefore would be more readily acceptable of human presence. That would allow for easier observations. That is the only reason. Though I would not say no to observing the feral version if I could just spot them.

Yeah, okay. But what if the domesticated ones hated their human breeders and therefore resorted to the feral version's pig pie throws? I would think it would be hard to observe if you have pig poo on your glasses. But that’s just a guess on my part.

Jacey, you really need to open your mind and remember that we are scientific observers and are trying to help others get a better understanding of certain creatures. Creatures, I might add, that fear humans to the point that they refuse to come out of hiding. By simply observing them and learning about them, then I hope to show the animals that we are not all that bad and can be trusted. So it is a win-win situation. He sounded a little exasperated with me but how can I keep an open mind if it could end up slathered in pig poo. It’s just not gonna happen.

Okay, I’ll try, Doc. So, now we have to keep our heads down looking for giant horny toad tracks and also keep our heads up to spot flying pigs. It isn’t gonna be physically possible to do both of those at the same time, you know.

Oh, I don’t expect the pigs to make another appearance. They have seen us and so they will go elsewhere. That way they don’t have to deal with human presence. Most particularly since I think it is breeding time. I mean, would you want someone or something watching you during a mating ritual?

It might blind a person forever. If that’s a risk they are willing to take then it’s their problem, not mine. But I would have to think that the observers really would need to get a life. I don’t have much of one, but what I do have is a bit boring, I do admit. Well, at least it was until I started working for you, now I have the exciting world of flying pigs and giant horny toads. You can’t get much more exciting than that.

That’s the spirit, Jacey. Now keep your eyes peeled for giant horny toad tracks or possibly his excrement. They do leave rather strange droppings. Well, the giant ones do anyway. It’s not unlike cows. But it’s redder from eating all those ants. You know that our area is one of the few that has not been overrun by fire ants simply because the giant horny toad needs so many to survive and therefore it keeps the population in check. See, they are a major asset to mankind. And that’s why they should be studied and hopefully bred in captivity in order to further help in areas that desperately need them, due to the overabundance of fire ants.

Yeah, capturing them and breeding them is really gonna make them trust and like humans. I bet they know what they are in for and that’s why they keep hiding. I know I would if I knew you were trying to cage me and then force some man on me.

Jacey, you are such a tease. I know that my outings are so much more fun since you started working for me. Now keep your eyes peeled for tracks and droppings.

We worked with our heads down for a good part of the morning. I was trying to seem excited about finding tracks but the only ones I found were skunk tracks. And I definitely didn’t want to follow those. But I only knew they were skunk tracks from the odor they left behind. It sort of gets up into the nostrils and lingers there until all thoughts of food make you totally nauseated.

We continued in our trek but not particularly achieving anything I considered noteworthy. I’m sure I wasn’t much help. I kept looking up expecting to see a pink blur hurling a pig pie at my head. Not that I believed in flying pigs, but there was just something about Doc and his ability to sound educated and correct about a subject. That made you reconsider your normal logical way of thinking.

The sun was coming up higher in the sky and it was starting to get hot. I could tell we were getting closer to FM1313 from the sounds of the occasional vehicle going down it. That would mean we had walked about five miles. This would mean we would have to walk another five miles back to the SUV. Well, we may not catch sight of anything elusive but I would certainly get my exercise for the week, possibly the year. I’m not too much of a health freak and so I really don’t exercise regularly, which could be one of the reasons I’m an indoor person. If you’re outside there is the need to do something and since Tree, Texas is the most boring place on earth, then exercise is just about all you can do.

Hey, Doc, we’re getting close to the farm-to-market road. Don’t you think the giant horny toad would avoid cars at all costs? After all, they could get squished. You know, like the armadillos.

Actually armadillos don’t get squished, they get hit. You see the natural instinct of an armadillo is to jump when threatened. They can jump up to three feet. This puts them at about the height of the bumper of the car and so they get hit and not squished under the tires. That is why you see whole bodies on the side of the road and not armadillo mush.

Unless, of course, they got hit in the middle of the road and then cars would eventually run over them after death and squish them. I felt the need to point this out. Why I have no idea.

Hm, yes, I do see your point. And I suppose you are correct. Not just in the squished armadillos but in the fact that the giant horny toad would, in all likelihood, avoid human contact of any sort. I guess we should start heading back. It seems that today the elusive giant horny toad is living up to his name. He sighed and turned to head back when something caught his nose.

Do you smell that, Jacey?

Dang, he found the skunks. Well, he could darn well investigate them himself. And if he was sprayed then by golly he could ride on the roof of the SUV because I wasn’t gonna be sitting next to him.

Please don’t tell me you found skunks, I moaned.

No, actually, it smells like breakfast. I wonder if some hitchhiker has camped out nearby and is now cooking breakfast. I wonder if it is a hitchhiker then the hitchhiker may have heard strange noises in the night. He might be able to point us in the right direction. And he might even share his breakfast with us. I think Doc was really talking to himself and not me, so I decided to remind him I was here.

Who’s to say it’s not some deranged killer on the lam from the law who doesn’t want witnesses to his whereabouts and would just as soon kill and cook us than help us?

Jacey, I am surprised at you. Where is your sense of adventure? Besides, I think you are letting your imagination get away with you. How totally absurd to think a killer would be out in the middle of nowhere.

Yeah, right, when he’s looking for a giant horny toad or flying feral pigs, it is science, when it’s me scared to approach a stranger camping on the side of a road in the middle of nowhere, it is imagination. Go figure.

I followed Doc as he headed toward the road but at a distance. I figured if they took Doc out then I might get away if there was some distance between us.

Yummy, can you smell it. It smells like bacon cooking. I do so love bacon in the morning.

You better not let the flying feral pigs hear you say that. They might take offense, I shouted to him.

When we finally reached the road there wasn’t a hitchhiker in sight