#Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail

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ROLLING HOME by David Fitz-Gerald - Historical Fiction, Oregon Trail, Mystical & Supernatural Fiction

  David Fitz-Gerald concludes the Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail series with a grand finale for an eclectic cast of characters, as the long wagon train is finally Rolling Home to their new lives in the wild west of Oregon. With the end of the trail just out of reach, however, their hopes dwindle and their hunger rages. The rigor of the western environment continues to test their determination and…

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 13: The Regrets Are Useless] [Series Finale]

A/N: Below are your final predictions. Let's see how you did... 🥰

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Whatsername” by Green Day.

Word count: 6.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Rain pours outside the cabin, mist-shrouded pine trees and still dark water, a place in southern Oregon called Lake of the Woods. The twin-sized bed with a thin foam mattress was once used by kids attending summer camp, capture the flag and s’mores, hikes and scary stories, but now the children are ghosts and the monsters are real, stumbling down streets and lurking in dark places, licking blood from what’s left of their lips.

Aemond is here but he’s also not, a castaway on an island where the world never ended, his hands in your hair as you straddle him, your hips moving tentatively, his lips and teeth at your throat, the sharp points of his canines like fangs.

“Am I doing this right?” you murmur doubtfully. “I feel like I’m definitely not doing this right…”

“Shh, you’re great, you’re incredible.”

“I’m sorry I don’t know how to do everything already, I’m sorry you have to teach me—”

“Stop,” Aemond commands, a sharp sigh through your hair. “I love this. I love you. I want to teach you things until the day I die.”

The nervous tension in your muscles unravels—peddles thrown into water, campfire smoke vanishing into indigo night—and now his hands are on your hips, steadying you, guiding you. You link your fingers around the back of his neck and try to find a cadence that isn’t uncomfortable, ungainly, effortful. You wanted to try this. You want to experience everything with him.

“Take your time,” Aemond is saying like it’s difficult for him to keep a train of thought, his eye closed, his cheeks flushed, blood-colored blooms like a dusk sky. “I’m fine down here, don’t worry about me…”

Rain drums against the windows; lightning flashes in the sky and thunder growls. From the front porch of one of the other cabins, you can hear the indistinct droning of conversations and Aegon strumming the acoustic guitar he brought from the beach house. It’s something you’ve overheard him singing before, one of his strange midcentury darlings, a song that should be too old for him to know the words to.

“All you big and burly men who roll the trucks along

Better listen, you’ll be thankful when you hear my song

You have really got it made if you’re haulin’ goods

Any place on earth but those Haynesville Woods…”

Your skin gleams with a cool sheen of sweat; there is a draft through the cabin walls that makes you shiver as you cling to Aemond. You roll your hips a certain way and he moans—suddenly, involuntarily—and you know you’ve found the right rhythm.

“It’s a stretch of road up north in Maine

That’s never ever ever seen a smile

If they’d buried all them truckers lost in them woods

There’d be a tombstone every mile

Count ‘em off, there’d be a tombstone every mile…”

Aemond is kissing you deeply, desperately, trembling hands and gasping shallow breaths. And there is not just euphoria written into the lines of his face; there is disorientation, there is wonder. He barely manages: “Alright…um…if you want me to last longer than about thirty more seconds, you should probably slow down…”

“No,” you tease, grinning as you bite at his full lips.

“When you’re loaded with potatoes and you’re headed down

You’ve got to drive the woods to get to Boston town

When it’s winter up in Maine, better check it over twice

That Haynesville road is just a ribbon of ice…”

Aemond cries out, louder than you’ve ever heard him before—you’ve never had privacy, you’ve never truly been alone—and then again, a helpless ecstatic sound, pleasure so overwhelming it almost starts to feel like pain.

“Quiet!” you whisper, giggling, touching two fingers to his mouth. “Everyone’s going to hear you.”

“Oh my God,” Aemond says. He falls back onto the mattress and brings you with him, his arms wrapped around you, kissing your cheeks and your forehead as the two of you lie there panting and entangled, his blue eye astonished. “Okay, okay, I need a minute. I think I just burst an aneurysm.”

“I killed you?” you purr with feigned distress, basking in your conquest.

“You can kill me whenever you want. You can kill me five times a day.”

“When you’re talking to a trucker that’s been haulin’ goods

Down that stretch of road in Maine they call the Haynesville Woods

He’ll tell you that dying and going down below

Won’t be half as bad as driving on that road of ice and snow…”

Aemond stares up at the ceiling—a steep gable roof, a motionless fan—and now you can tell he’s thinking about his family again, discorporate screams, misplaced trust. Otto Hightower’s bones were found in the shower, meaning he likely died before or not long after their power failed and water would have run out in the municipal system. They were probably killed before you and Aemond ever met, distant galaxies lightyears away, remote long-dead stars. And so all the blood you paid to get to California was wasted.

“Do you ever think about the people you have saved?” you ask gently as your fingertips trace the ridge of his scar. “You stitched yourself back together. You healed Aegon’s burns. You sutured Cregan’s arm. You got me and Rio down from that transmission tower.”

“I guess I did,” Aemond says, but his voice is ambivalent, as if none of these things count. He has not found someplace safe for you yet. His job is not finished; his triumphs may only be temporary.

“Aemond…back in Pennsylvania…why did you decide to help us?”

“Luke spotted you guys, and we all talked it over. If it had just been Rio, honestly, I wouldn’t have taken the chance. A man his size, and possibly armed…could be trouble, you know? But I figured since he was traveling with a woman and you seemed to be with him by choice, he was probably okay. And then when we first met, he was so protective of you…didn’t want me touching you, didn’t leave you alone…I realized he had to be a good guy.”

“He was,” you say solemnly. I was supposed to remind him about the racks. I was supposed to warn him. But you didn’t warn Rio about what was waiting to kill him in that sand-swept grocery store in Winnemucca, just like you didn’t warn Jace about radiation or Baela about the way the rungs of the ladder that ran up the side of the grain bin were rusted and creaking, and maybe there is more than enough blame to go around.

“And then after Battle Mountain, as soon as we found the gasoline and ammo, I knew we had to go back for you. It hit me all at once. I couldn’t protect you by leaving you with Rio and Cregan. And I couldn’t let you go. I’ve never had something like this before. I didn’t know it existed. I told the others we were turning around, and Aegon said: Thank fucking God. Rhaena took off sprinting towards the car.” Then Aemond kisses you again, but tenderly this time, slowly, like you’ll have forever and there’s no need to rush. “I’m going to get you to Odessa. I’m going to take you somewhere safe.”

The rain is stopping; there are still a few hours of daylight left.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Chip Skylark. Check it out,” Aegon says, grinning at you from where he’s sprawled on the wet dock and smoking a cigarette, wearing his neon green plastic sunglasses, his left leg finally freed from its bandages and on full display. You’re all wearing the same things, stolen t-shirts and shorts, sweatshirts at night when it gets cold, sneakers you can walk hundreds of miles in; but Aegon won’t give up his Sperry Bahamas. “It’s nature’s tattoo.”

You sit down beside him and admire the scar tissue, red knots and white cords, jagged terrain like a mountain range, organic highways and bridges and trails. “It’s a roadmap.”

“That’s appropriate.”

You’ve been traveling on foot for two weeks since Criston’s white Tahoe ran out of gas and was abandoned in the town of Mad River, California. Now you are only about ten miles from Odessa, close enough to reach in half a day but too far to get into town before nightfall. This time tomorrow you’ll be there, and it will either be a haven or a wasteland, and if Rio’s parents’ community in Odessa has disappeared then so has your last idea for where to go. Absentmindedly, you skate your fingerprints over the bumps and grooves of Aegon’s leg like a blind man reading braille. He shifts and clears his throat; you’ve made him uncomfortable somehow. You lift your hand away.

“I’m sorry, does that hurt?”

“Nah. I can’t really feel anything besides pressure. The nerve endings got fried.”

“Oh.” But now you don’t know what you did to upset him. Aegon doesn’t provide an explanation. Down the dock a ways towards the shore, Rhaena is reading The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and listening to the pink Sony Walkman formerly owned by a little girl named Ava. Inside whirls Green Day’s 2004 album American Idiot, which Aegon took from his bedroom at the beach house to add to his CD collection, a cultural archive, a gift for posterity. Cregan is teaching Daeron to fish with poles he found in one of the cabins; Helaena is bringing them worms. Aemond and Luke are gathering things dry enough to burn—books and wooden chairs from inside the cabins—and piling them up so Cregan can cook dinner once it’s caught.

“So,” Aegon says, changing the subject, scrutinizing you as he puffs on a Marlboro Gold. “Everything going okay?”

You know what he means; he must have heard Aemond earlier. “Yup.”

“Got it all figured out?”

“Sure did.”

“Great. I’m happy for you,” Aegon says, and yet there’s a twinge of melancholy he’s trying to hide. It must be hard for him; he and Daeron are the only single ones.

“We’ll find you some suitable candidates for your harem when we get to Odessa.”

He chuckles. “Oh, come on.”

“Guys, girls? Do you have a preference?”

He’s smiling wistfully down into the water, a dark rippling mirror. “I have too specific a preference, that’s the problem.”

“Yacht girls in bikinis. Golf cheerleaders.”

“There are no cheerleaders in golf, you yokel.”

“Okay, well…I’m sure you’ll be very popular with the lonely, traumatized, widowed women of the apocalypse.”

Aegon gazes morosely out over the lake. He pitches the end of his cigarette into the water, and your eyes catch briefly on the black ink of the tattoo on his forearm: It’s not over ‘til you’re underground. “I don’t know. I’ve been sober for two weeks and now everything is annoyingly clear.”

“What’s bothering you?”

He waits a while before he answers, evasive. “I’ve never been good at anything.”

“Everyone feels that way sometimes. Luke thinks he’s not good at anything either.”

“But Luke’s nice. I’m a rat bastard.”

You laugh. “You’re kind of nice, Aegon.”

“Yeah right.”

“No, seriously. I like being around you. You make me feel better. You’re like…” You ponder how to word it. “I feel like I could tell you whatever and not worry about being judged for it.”

He snorts. “As if you’ve ever done anything judgeable.”

You shrug, peering out over the lake. “I abandoned my family. I stopped sending them money, I stopped calling. And when everything happened…the zombies, the world ending…I didn’t even consider going back to Kentucky to try to help them. I went west with Rio instead. And now they’re probably all dead and it’s my fault. That’s evil. I couldn’t have gotten away with that level of betrayal. I must be cursed.”

Aegon is watching you, eyebrows raised. He has never heard this before. “But your family sucked, right?”

“Yeah,” you admit. “I think it would be hard to argue they didn’t.”

“So fuck ‘em,” Aegon says simply.

You smile at him, touched, grateful. “Okay. Fuck ‘em.”

“I’m relieved my family’s gone,” Aegon confesses, something so brutal he’d never tell anyone else. “I mean…I feel kind of bad about my mom and Criston. But as long as they were alive, I’d always be the person they raised. And if I could bring someone back, it wouldn’t be any of them. I’d pick Rio.”

“I would too,” you say softly, staring down at the faint burn marks on your palms from when you were stranded on that transmission tower with him, talking him out of suicide, so adamant that both of you were going to make it to Oregon. And you were wrong.

“So if you’re cursed, Pita Chips, sign me up because I’m right there with you.”

Rhaena pulls out an earbud and says to Aegon: “I don’t get this album.”

“What?!” he exclaims.

“It’s so good!” you concur. On the shore, Cregan is spearing several gutted rainbow trout on sticks so they can be roasted over the fire. Ice is gleefully gulping down fish organs.

Aegon continues: “Whatsername! St. Jimmy! Jesus of Suburbia!”

Rhaena blinks, glancing between you and Aegon. “But neither of you grew up in the suburbs.”

“It’s not about the suburbs, Rhaena!” Aegon replies with frenetic hand gestures. “It’s about being disillusioned and angry and failed by all the adults in your life, and self-medicating, and losing love every time you get a taste of it, and wanting to burn everything down and start over. It’s about hating the world and the world hating you back.”

“Okay, sure. I still don’t get it.”

You say: “You might have had too happy a childhood.” And you and Aegon burst out laughing.

“You guys are so weird,” Rhaena says, but she’s smiling. She stands up, gives Aegon back his Walkman, and walks to the end of the dock where Cregan is cooking the rainbow trout. Aemond and Daeron are gathering up the aluminum buckets found at the campground and set outside earlier today to collect rainwater. There is one five-pound bag of trail mix left to share, and then all the food is gone. If Cregan doesn’t kill something, you won’t eat.

“We should go help them with dinner,” you tell Aegon.

He groans. “Should we really?”

“Yeah. We should.”

“Fine.” He takes your hand when you offer it and struggles to his feet. Then you inhale a lungful of the scent of roasting trout, and startlingly powerful nausea punches through your stomach, so repellant you have to clamp a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from retching.

There has to be something wrong with the fish. It’s never smelled like that before.

Aegon seems baffled. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Does the trout smell right to you?”

Aegon sniffs the air like a labrador. “I guess…? I barely smell anything.”

“Well you probably destroyed your nose cells with all the coke.”

“That’s discriminatory. Addiction is a disease.” But his brow is furrowed with concern. “Seriously, are you okay? You look awful. Not like that. You know what I mean.”

“I’m fine.” You don’t feel fine; but everyone down by the fire is chatting and joking around nonchalantly, and surely if there actually was something wrong they would have noticed. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“Sure,” Aegon says, perplexed.

You hurry past the others and take refuge in the cabin you’re sharing with Aemond. Inside the trout smell isn’t so strong. You sit at the edge of the bed and suck in several deep breaths, trying to calm down, willing the confounding wave of nausea to pass.

Did I eat something bad, did I get bit by a spider or something…?

You are checking your arms and legs for little raised bitemarks when Helaena enters the cabin and shuts the door behind her. When she opens her burlap messenger bag to root around inside, you glimpse photographs she must have taken from the beach house, the frames left empty on the mantle of the fireplace. Then Helaena pulls out a pregnancy test, just one, Clearblue.

You gawk at it. “What are you doing?”

“You look sick,” Helaena says matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s that.”

She is puzzled, wide innocent blue eyes. “Why not?”

“Well…I mean…that would be freakishly quick, wouldn’t it? Like…quick as in immediately. People can’t get pregnant the first time they have sex, right?”

“Huh. They really don’t have sex ed in Kentucky,” Helaena says, and leaves you alone with your pregnancy test. You don’t feel so nauseous anymore, but you sneak around the back of the cabin to take it anyway, because now you’re thinking about the possibility with a vividness you’ve never experienced before: a round blossoming belly and tiny handprints and Aemond cradling his child in his arms. And by the time you get the result, you aren’t even shocked. It feels like something that’s supposed to happen.

You and Aemond don’t have a moment alone together until after dark, sitting on the porch swing outside your cabin for first watch, everyone else asleep, Ice dozing serenely by your feet. The only sounds are the breeze through the pine trees, cool and damp, and the hoots of owls, and the chirping of crickets and cicadas.

“So guess what,” you say casually as moonbeams float rippling and fractured on the surface of the black-glass lake.

Aemond smiles drowsily, not expecting anything. “What?”

“In approximately eight months, I might be having your baby.”

At first, he doesn’t speak; he only studies the test when you hand it to him, and then looks at you like he’s not convinced you aren’t angry, like he can’t quite bring himself to believe that you’d want this with someone like him. “Are you afraid?”

“No,” you answer honestly. Maybe you should be, but you aren’t. “I’m hopeful. I feel like as soon as I realized it, everything got brighter. And now I’m thinking about the future instead of the past.” They’re not going to grow up like I did. They’re never going to think they aren’t loved. “What should we name it?”

“Not Otter.”

You laugh, trying to muffle it so you don’t wake anyone. Ice lifts her head and stares at you curiously, her shaggy grey ears straight up.

“I don’t know, I’m terrible with names,” Aemond says; and now he’s smiling again, a wide radiant smile, and you know he’s thinking about the future too. “Hope or Peace or something. Something happy. Something about starting over.”

You take his hand. “I can’t wait to start over with you.”

“Just one more day,” Aemond says.

One more day.

~~~~~~~~~~

“So what am I going to do in Odessa?” Luke asks as the eight of you—nine, if you count Ice—trek eastbound on Route 140. You are about five miles from Lake of the Woods and halfway to your destination. It’s only 80 degrees and overcast, good walking weather, although there is a looming threat of rain, occasional rogue drops and far-off rumbles of thunder. “Everyone has valuable skills except me. Chips has great aim and can build things, Daeron has his compound bow, Aemond is basically a doctor, Rhaena is learning how to shoot guns and treat injuries…”

“Aegon has skills?” Cregan jokes, casting him a good-natured grin. Aegon acts like he’s going to whack Cregan with his golf club, which he’s spinning around haphazardly. Both his Marlin .22 and acoustic guitar are slung across his back. There aren’t many bullets left, but everyone has a few.

“Aegon can navigate,” Luke says. “And probably impregnate ten women a day. Very useful during a population crisis.”

“We don’t need that in the gene pool,” Rhaena notes.

“You wrote stories in college, right?” you ask Luke.

“Screenplays, yeah,” he says hesitantly. “But I wouldn’t say I was super talented or anything.”

Aegon claps him on the shoulder “Well I’ve got good news for you, kid. A big chunk of the world’s screenwriters are probably dead now. So you’ll look so much better in comparison!”

“Thanks…?” Luke says.

“What I mean is,” you continue. “You could write books for people to read, since there aren’t really libraries or Barnes & Nobles anymore. And you could interview people to get their life stories and then record them so they aren’t lost forever. The next generation should know what the world was like before the zombies.”

“Yeah,” Aegon says as he pets Ice. “Someone has to tell them about blue raspberry Icees, right Blue Raspberry Icee?”

“Maybe,” Luke says thoughtfully, and you notice that he’s smiling a little.

Ice begins whining, and there is a rustling in the woods to the north, low-hanging branches of bigleaf maple and dogwood and Douglas fir trees being forced aside. “Zombie!” Aegon announces, pointing. Immediately, Daeron nocks an arrow and then releases it, and the figure draped in the shifting shadows of foliage drops to the ground.

“Hey Aegon,” Daeron says after a few seconds.

“Yeah?”

“That was actually a zombie, right?”

“Totally,” Aegon replies, but he doesn’t sound certain.

Aemond turns to his older brother accusingly. “How sure are you?”

“Like…50%.”

“Aegon!” Rhaena cries, petrified, and everyone rushes off the road to investigate.

Blessedly, the felled creature is long-dead, a former park ranger whose tan uniform hangs in gore-stained tatters. The nametag reads: Underwood. The arrow pierced its soft rotting skull and remains lodged there until Daeron pulls it out to be used again, giving Aegon an impatient scowl as he does.

“Close call,” Aegon tells him. “Think they would have charged you as an adult?”

“Lord almighty, that gave me a scare,” Cregan says, chuckling. Helaena spies a blackberry bush and begins picking a handful, and Cregan goes over to join her. Rhaena and Luke are telling Aegon that he needs to be more responsible and should have waited for Luke to confirm it was a zombie with his binoculars. You exchange a glance with Aegon: he rolls his eyes, you offer a smirk of commiseration. Ice is already trotting back towards Oregon Route 140.

You haven’t told anyone else that you’re pregnant yet, but eventually they’re going to notice that Aemond won’t leave your side. He sighs and asks you: “Have you had enough of this little field trip?”

“Definitely.” You head for the road. Aemond walks with you, placing you not on his left side but on his right where he can see you. You ask, smiling: “You don’t trust me to watch your blind side anymore, huh?”

“I prefer the view the way it is.”

You are only a few steps from the black artery of pavement that cuts through the Cascade-Siskiyou National Monument, a 114,000-acre preserve of wilderness that somehow—although it is 2,500 miles away—reminds you a bit of eastern Kentucky, endless emerald forests, the omnipotent shadows of mountains. And because you are on Aemond’s right side, he can look down and see something just in front of you on the earth strewn with knobby roots and pine needles and dead leaves.

“Don’t!” he shouts, snatching your forearm and yanking you backwards, and he’s never touched you like this before—so forcefully, so violently—and you stumble and almost fall, and your arm burns and aches where he grabbed you, and people are asking what’s going on, and you peer up at Aemond with confusion, fear, mistrust.

“Why…?”

And then you hear it rustling from the same place where you were standing a moment ago. The others yelp and dash out of the way as the snake escapes into the woods, a drab spotted olive green, a rattling tail, an angular skull like an arrowhead.

“Aemond?” you say, because he hasn’t moved, hasn’t made a sound. He looks down, and your gaze follows his. On his right calf, just a few inches above his ankle, are two small puncture wounds from the snake’s fangs, each dribbling a thin river of blood.

“Northern Pacific rattlesnake,” Helaena says, her voice shaking, tears welling up in her horrified eyes. “Venomous.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Aemond has one arm draped across Cregan’s shoulders, the other over Aegon’s. He’s moving slower, or is that just your imagination? His steps are less steady, his breathing more labored. His leg is swelling, a deep blue phantom of a bruise spreading beneath his skin, so tight it looks like it might split open.

“We’re almost there,” you say; you keep saying it, because hopefully that will make it true. “We’re only a few miles from Odessa, and we’ll find people who can help us.”

“Aemond, you’re a doctor,” Luke says.

Aemond’s voice is weak, pained, hazy. “I’m not a doctor.”

“You know what I mean!” Luke yells, frantic. “How do we fix you? What can we do?”

“Nothing,” Aemond says listlessly. “There’s nothing you can do without a hospital. I’ll either get better or I won’t.”

“People in Odessa will know how to help,” you insist. “They’re outside all the time, they hike, they hunt, they fish, they’ve seen snakebites before. They must have. They’ll have treatments.”

“Aemond,” Rhaena breathes, and you turn to see there is blood running from his nostrils. You scream, and Aemond touches his fingers to his face and then watches as they come away bloody.

“Put me down,” he tells Cregan and Aegon.

“No—” you begin, but then his knees buckle and he’s on the pavement anyway, blood pouring from his nose and his lips, blood filling up his right eye. Cregan walks to the shoulder of the highway, his head in his hands. Aegon stays beside Aemond, and you’re kneeling there with him, both of you using anything you have to clean the blood from Aemond’s face: the corners of your shirts, your bare hands.

He’s covered in blood, you think. Just like Jace, Baela, Rio.

“Can’t clot,” Aemond is murmuring. “The venom causes coagulotoxicity. Internal bleeding too. I feel like…like there’s all this pressure inside…”

Rhaena is taking Aemond’s pulse like he taught her to, fingers on the underside of his wrist. “It’s really faint,” she says quietly.

You grab a plastic Gatorade bottle filled with rainwater out of your backpack and tilt it against Aemond’s crimson-stained lips. He manages to swallow some of it. “Aemond, listen to me,” you say as calmly as you can. “You’re so close. We’re almost there. I need you to hang on a little longer.”

He shakes his head, slow dizzy motions. “It doesn’t matter.”

“They might have doctors in Odessa.” This is a fantasy, but you can’t resist it.

“Even if they do, there won’t be any antivenom. And it’s too late anyway.”

“No,” you say savagely, a sob ripping through your throat. “We didn’t cross 3,000 miles so you could die here. I won’t let you. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s not fair.”

“Aegon,” Aemond says, reaching for him, drained and fumbling.

Aegon catches his hand. “I’m here.”

His eye—crystalline blue corrupted with red, blood in clear water—drifts to his brother. “You have to get her to Odessa. You have to help take care of everyone.”

Aegon is weeping. “Man, it’s supposed to be you. How can I still be here if you aren’t?”

“You can do this,” Aemond says.

“I’ll try.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, Aemond,” Aegon says, then crawls away on his hands and knees and collapses on the pavement, gutted, inconsolable, hemorrhaging grief instead of gore.

Everyone is crying and touching Aemond—his face, his hands—saying goodbye, accepting tasks, and they come away stained with red, and rain has begun to fall from a dark sky growling with thunder. Rhaena takes his medical kit. Helaena takes his Glock and stows it away in her messenger mag. Then Aemond looks for you, and now you are alone with him here in the middle of the highway, two golden lines on black asphalt, and with your thumbprint you whisk away the rivulet of blood that is spilling from his eye.

“You’re going to be okay,” he whispers as his heart fails, as his lungs fill with blood instead of air, as his pores leak rust and ruin. “Odessa will be everything we hoped for. I just won’t be there with you.”

“You can’t leave me,” you’re saying as rain patters against the road. I left my family and now my family is leaving me.

“Love,” he sighs, almost too softly to hear. “I don’t want to.”

You lie down on the pavement with him and rest your head on his chest, feel it rise and fall beneath you as the rain descends in sheets. And then Aemond exhales, deep and rattling, and he never tastes oxygen again, never speaks, never touches you. You don’t move from where you’re lying. You’re there until you’re drenched to the bones with rain and the world is a cold mist of pine trees, of wilderness, and you can never go back to any of the places you’ve been before, you can never get back the people you’ve left there.

Aegon is shaking you. “We have to keep moving,” he chokes out through tears.

You reply without looking at him. “I’m giving up now.”

“No you’re fucking not. We have to walk to Odessa.”

“Everyone’s dead in Odessa. Everyone’s dead everywhere. I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to stay in a world like this.”

On the periphery of your vision, you can see Aegon glancing at the others, standing just off the highway and under the canopy of the pine trees. He seems defeated, he seems lost.

Then suddenly Aegon turns back to you. “Hey!” he screams, so loudly you jolt upright, your palms on wet pavement, rain dripping from your hair. “I’m still alive. You’re still alive. This isn’t over yet. I said I would get you to Odessa, so that’s where we’re going. Stand up. Right now.”

Aegon holds out his hand. Thunder booms, lightning strobes, and then you take it. He pulls you to your feet and hesitates, as if he didn’t think he would get this far. Then he throws his arms around you, a crushing desperate embrace, a wordless devotion, a silent vow, sobbing into the curve of your neck, tasting the copper and iron of his brother’s blood on your skin.

“We have to keep moving,” he says again, like an apology, like he understands how impossible it feels. “The storm’s getting worse. It’ll be too dark to see soon.”

“We can’t leave him alone like this.”

“That’s not Aemond anymore,” Aegon pleads. “Aemond’s gone. And he would want us to live.”

Now the others are here on the road too: Daeron, Helaena, Cregan, Rhaena, Luke, Ice whimpering and licking scarlet stains of blood off your hands. You’re all holding each other; you’re all any of you have left. Cregan carries Aemond off the pavement and on a patch of grass alongside Route 140, the seven of you cover his body with branches of pine needles and white petals from dogwood trees. Rhaena is the first person to begin walking again, heading east. One by one you follow her. The downpour is torrential; if you are attacked now, you are nearly blind. Aegon stays beside you no matter how slow your steps are. You think if he disappears, you will too; the strings that tie you to the earth will fray and unweave and your bones will turn to mist, your voice will only be the wind howling down mountainsides. You have no way of knowing how long you’ve been walking or how many miles are left. You wonder what will happen to Aemond’s child if there is nothing for you in Odessa.

The rain is stopping. Now you can hear crows, woodpeckers, formations of geese honking in a foggy sky and squirrels scrabbling up tree trunks. Falcons perch watchfully on dead power lines. Rare aisles of sunlight are breaking through dissipating clouds.

They rise up out of the verdant jungle, a tangle of Pacific ninebark and blue elderberry: four figures in green camouflage, two men and two women, all wearing tactical sunglasses and wielding assault rifles, M16s you’re fairly sure, automatic and with 20-round magazines. Daeron moves to nock an arrow and then stops when he sees you’ve put up your hands. The others follow your lead: palms empty, willingly surrendering.

It’s them, you think dazedly. The people in Odessa. They’re alive, they’re real.

“Please cooperate and hand over all your weapons,” one of the women says, fifties, muscular, alert hawkish eyes.

No one moves. Then you unholster your Beretta M9—received from the U.S. Navy almost exactly five years ago, a different lifetime, a different world—and hold it out to the woman in your open palm. And now everybody else is giving their weapons over too: Aegon and Luke’s .22s, Rhaena’s Ruger, the spare Ruger and Aemond’s Glock hidden in Helaena’s burlap messenger bag, Daeron’s compound bow, Cregan’s axe. Ice peers up at Cregan anxiously, her yellowish eyes wide, but she wags her tail when he runs one of his large, calloused hands over her rain-soaked fur.

Aegon is still clutching his golf club. One of the men stares at him, incredulous. “You can keep that, son,” he says.

The woman nods to the men. “Nick and Glen will escort you five miles up the road, and then return your weapons. We ask that you keep moving and do not turn around. We don’t want trouble, but we can defend ourselves. Don’t think you can double back tomorrow and try to loot us or anything. This is your only warning. Do you understand?”

Aegon nudges your hand with his knuckles, then taps you harder when at first you’re too shellshocked to notice. You have to explain. You have to tell them why you’re here.

“I…I…” You begin, unable to make the words leave your lips, rats from a sinking ship, plummeting bodies from a burning building. Here you stand on a precipice, and with so many other people to save. “I served in the Navy with Bryan Osorio. We left Saratoga Springs together. He told me it would be safe here.”

Now they are interested. Slowly, the woman lowers her M16. “You know the Osorios?”

“I do.” I’ve known them for half a decade.

“Could any of them identify you and verify what you’re saying?”

“His wife, Sophie. She’s blonde, and she likes elephants, and she had a baby recently.”

The woman is scanning the faces behind you. “And where’s Bryan?”

“He’s not here anymore,” you say, and now you’re sobbing again. Aegon is squeezing your shoulder, his head bowed. “I’m sorry. I wanted to help him get home. I was supposed to warn him, I was supposed to stop it from biting him, but I didn’t and now he’s gone—”

“Okay, okay.” The woman motions for you to calm down, but her voice is kind. “Who are these guys? Your colleagues, your friends?”

“They’re my family.”

“You can vouch for them?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll all submit to searches for bitemarks?”

“Yes.”

The woman turns to the men she called Nick and Glen. “Take them inside, will you? Get the ID verified and then we’ll process everyone.”

“Got it,” the older man says. And then, to you and your companions: “Follow me.”

Nick and Glen lead you into the forest, the canopy of pine needles so thick the daylight turns to dusk, and you think of lightning bugs, of firelight, of drinking Guinness on the beach with Rio on Diego Garcia. There are several patrols, groups of four or five, that approach to stop you until they see Nick and Glen and wave you through. Then the trees open into a meadow of buttercups and daisies and pink fawn lilies, and beyond that an immense village, some houses decades old, others currently being constructed with logs from pine trees. There are hundreds of people tending to livestock, hanging up laundry to dry on clotheslines, digging in gardens, making candles and soap and butter. There are children playing without fear, giggling as they chase after scampering dogs, challenging each other to games of kickball and Uno.

In front of one of the houses that predates the apocalypse, brick with a screened-in porch, there is a small blonde woman standing in a garden, smiling and chatting with a middle-aged couple. The baby she carries against her chest in a blue sling has dark curly hair like Rio’s.

Sophie and the baby are here. They’ve been alive the whole time.

You rest a palm on your belly without realizing you’re doing it. “What happens now?” you ask Aegon.

“The rest of our lives.”

It is unimaginable, it is impossible, it is so full of luminous potential you feel like the light will spill out of your pores like blood, it’s an oasis, it’s a second chance, it’s an island in the vast lethal untamed blue of the Indian Ocean.

“Let’s go,” Aegon says softly, taking your hand and leading you across the field of wildflowers, kaleidoscopic blooms in the last days of summer.

[bestmusicalworldcup]

2024 Best Musical World Cup Alphabetized List

Listed below is the 128 musicals that have qualified for the 2024 Best Musical World Cup Bracket.

& Juliet 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee 35MM: A Musical Exhibition A Chorus Line A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder A Little Night Music A Strange Loop American Idiot Amélie Anastasia Annie Annie Get Your Gun Assassins Avenue Q Bare: A Pop Opera Beauty and the Beast Beetlejuice Billy Elliot the Musical Bonnie and Clyde Bring it On Cabaret Camelot Carrie Cats Chess Chicago Chitty Chitty Bang Bang Come From Away Company Death Note: The Musical Dreamgirls Elisabeth Evita Falsettos Fiddler on the Roof Firebringer Frankenstein: A New Musical Fun Home Funny Girl Ghost Quartet Godspell Grease Guys and Dolls Hadestown Hair Hairspray Hamilton Heathers Hedwig and the Angry Inch Hello, Dolly! Holy Musical B@man! How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying In The Heights Into the Woods Jekyll and Hyde Jesus Christ Superstar Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat Kinky Boots La Cage aux Folles Legally Blonde Les Misérables Little Shop of Horrors Little Women Man of La Mancha Mary Poppins Matilda Mean Girls Merrily We Roll Along Monty Python's Spamalot Moulin Rouge My Fair Lady Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 Nerdy Prudes Must Die Newsies Next to Normal Oliver Once Once on this Island Parade Pippin Ragtime Rebecca Rent Ride the Cyclone School of Rock Seussical Shrek the Musical Singin' in the Rain Six Something Rotten Spies Are Forever SpongeBob SquarePants: The Broadway Musical Spring Awakening Starlight Express Starry Starship Sunday in the Park with George Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street Sweet Charity Tanz der Vampire / Dance of the Vampires The Addams Family The Book of Mormon The Color Purple The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals The Hunchback of Notre Dame The King and I The Last Five Years The Lightning Thief The Lion King The Music Man The Phantom of the Opera The Prince of Egypt The Producers The Rocky Horror Show The Secret Garden The Sound of Music The Trail to Oregon! The Wiz The Wizard of Oz (1987) Tick Tick Boom Tuck Everlasting Twisted: The Untold Story of A Royal Vizier Urinetown Waitress West Side Story Wicked You're A Good Man Charlie Brown

[red-hemlock]

🏡 🎀

Ask about River's Kid!

🏡- What kind of environment did they grow up in? Was it in a rural or farm-like home? Or did they grow up in the cities? Or were they a small town/suburban child?

Almost as 'rural' as rural could be. Dagny was born in Oregon, in the same home that River was also born in: A series of what appeared to be small homes hidden deep in the woods, which hid a sprawling compound, connected together underground; and bordering on a small town that's quickly becoming a ghost town. However, Dagny was only there for a short while, before River spirited the two of them away into the night... She'd stolen enough money from her family to stay in hotels and the like, but didn't want to leave any sort of paper-trail while they were still within the boundaries of the Pacific Northwest.

They lived very rough for a long while, never staying in one place for more than a day or two. River would steal cars that the two of them would live out of, and use to put distance them and the rest of the Locke family; or would break into empty vacation homes to temporarily squat in. River showed-up in Gotham with Dagny just before her first birthday, and they've been there ever since.

Now they dodge heroes, cops, and other villains instead of assassins for now, currently rotating between a number of hideouts of varying quality. Occasionally Dagny will also stay with her paternal grandfather, a wealthy and legit entrepreneur who lives in a luxurious condo.

🎀- What kinds of games/activities did they like to play?

Bug-catching in the warmer months, pranking people. Standard stuff like hide-and-seek and tag too, though since River is often her only 'game-mate', she doesn't always get to play those since her mother works. Likewise, her grandfather is a busy man and also rather stuffy, so he isn't apt to play those sorts of games with her period. Luckily Dagny enjoys quieter activities such as reading and doodling too, but she's pretty good at 'entertaining' herself otherwise.

She's in possession of one very active imagination, and being by herself for extended periods allows her to turn the hideouts and room she stays in at her grandfather's into whatever fantastical place her mind can cook-up. She'll gather-up her toys and use everything at her disposal to create forts and cities; and the zaniest, drama-filled stories to go along with them.

One of Dagny's biggest loves, though? Strategy games. She enjoys 4X games especially, like Endless Space and Endless Legend, and the Civilization series. However, she often needs help reading the words and descriptions on-screen, so her mother is frequently asked to pop-in and help with that.

Beware though, River and Dagny both love Uno; and are incredibly aggressive players.

[antiquatedsimmer]

The day following Eddy's conversation with Helena, a resolution was reached: it was time to bid farewell to Chestnut Ridge and begin the journey homeward. The family had lived amidst the tranquil beauty of the ridge throughout the summer, making the decision to conclude their stay a few days ahead of schedule.

As the sun dipped below the horizon on that final night, a serene peace enveloped the campsite. Lucile meticulously put the finishing touches on her canvas and enjoyed a final ride through the hills with Lady.

Meanwhile, the rest of the family directed their efforts toward preparing for the departure, tidying up their temporary abode, and securing their belongings for the upcoming journey.

The concluding evening spent in the camp seemed to radiate a familial unity unlike any they had experienced throughout the entire summer.

With the dawn of their homeward journey on the horizon, anticipatory chatter echoed throughout the campsite. Remarks about the discomfort of sleeping on the ground for an extended period danced through the conversation.

Amidst the exchange of such observations, Eddy seized the opportunity to share tales of yore. His gestures were spirited and his storytelling was delivered with an enthusiastic flourish, recounting the hardships faced by pioneers along the Oregon Trail and the fateful journey of the ill-fated Donner Party.

Gasps of astonishment emanated from the children as Eddy spun his tales, his dramatic narration captivating their attention.

Helena observed her husband's animated storytelling with a soft smile, well aware that he might be taking certain liberties with the grisly details. She chose to remain silent, delighting in their children's wide-eyed reactions.

Lucile's expression morphed into one of sheer disbelief as Eddy's narratives unfolded. Who could have fathomed that a mere journey across distance could carry such dire consequences?

" I'm so lucky to have a warm bed waiting for me back home. " she thought

Even Silas, typically reserved and detached, found himself caught up in Eddy's storytelling. The vivid descriptions, whether exaggerated or not, painted a descriptive image of the trials faced by those pioneers. The notion of resorting to cannibalism was repugnant, yet it allowed Silas to drift back to his childhood days, where he and his friend Jackson would share chilling ghost stories.

That night the Harringtons slept peacfully and with the first light of dawn, the horses were meticulously groomed and the wagon carefully laden for the journey homeward.

The road stretched ahead, a seemingly endless ribbon of dusty trail. Weariness settled into the bones of the travelers, yet as verdant landscapes gradually replaced the rugged expanses, an air of rejuvenation enlivened their spirits. The familiar scents and sights of Henford beckoned like a comforting embrace, infusing the journey with a renewed vitality.

The animals, entrusted to the care of the hired ranch hand during their absence, bore a contented demeanor, their coats gleaming from attentive grooming and well-fed bellies.

Though a layer of dust had gathered within the house that was a job best for tomorrow, for now everyone simply enjoyed their time back home after a long day of travelling.

[llivo-team]

Top Mountain Getaways for Cozy 2024 Family Vacations

By Khurram Iqbal

Mountain getaways offer a perfect blend of adventure, relaxation, and unforgettable experiences for families. Whether you’re looking for a cozy winter retreat or an adventurous summer escape, here are some of the top mountain destinations for 2024, complete with cost estimates and travel tips to help you plan the perfect family vacation.

1. Lake Tahoe, California

Why Visit: Lake Tahoe is a year-round destination offering everything from boating and swimming in the summer to skiing and ice skating in the winter. It’s a versatile spot where families can enjoy outdoor activities in a breathtaking setting.

Activities: Boating, hiking, skiing, shopping, and ice skating.

Best Family Resort: Hilton Vacation Club Lake Tahoe Resort Cost:$200 - $350/night Number of Travelers: Ideal for families of 4-6

Travel Tip: Visit in the shoulder seasons (late spring or early fall) for lower prices and fewer crowds Lake Tahoe Family Getaways.

2. Timberline Lodge, Mount Hood, Oregon

Why Visit: This historic lodge, featured inThe Shining, offers a unique mix of rustic charm and adventure. It's a fantastic spot for families who enjoy skiing, snowboarding, and exploring history-rich environments.

Activities: Skiing, snowboarding, historical tours, and hiking.

Best Family Resort: Timberline Lodge Cost:$250 - $400/night Number of Travelers: Perfect for families of 4-5

Travel Tip: The lodge is most magical during the winter months, with deep snow and cozy fireside lounges Timberline Lodge Information.

3. Jackson Hole, Wyoming

Why Visit: Jackson Hole offers some of the best outdoor activities in the U.S., from white-water rafting to wildlife safaris. Proximity to Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks adds to its appeal as a family destination.

Activities: Wildlife safaris, rafting, hiking, and skiing.

Best Family Resort: Mountain Modern Resort Cost:$300 - $450/night Number of Travelers: Suited for families of 4-6

Travel Tip: Book a sunrise wildlife safari to catch sight of the area’s diverse fauna in their natural habitats Jackson Hole Family Vacation.

4. Aspen, Colorado

Why Visit: Known for its luxury and outdoor beauty, Aspen is perfect for both winter and summer vacations. Families can enjoy skiing in the winter and hiking or biking in the summer, with plenty of dining and shopping options.

Activities: Skiing, hiking, biking, and shopping.

Best Family Resort: Mountain Chalet Aspen Cost:$350 - $500/night Number of Travelers: Great for families of 3-5

Travel Tip: Take the family on the Aspen DarkSide Ghost Tour for a fun and spooky evening Aspen Vacation Guide.

5. Asheville, North Carolina

Why Visit: Nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains, Asheville is a haven for art lovers, foodies, and outdoor enthusiasts. This town offers a perfect mix of nature and culture, with activities that cater to all ages.

Activities: Hiking, visiting art galleries, and touring the Biltmore Estate.

Best Family Resort: The Inn on Biltmore Estate Cost:$250 - $400/night Number of Travelers: Ideal for families of 3-4

Travel Tip: Don’t miss the Biltmore Estate’s gardens, which are particularly stunning in spring and fall Asheville Family Guide.

6. Glacier National Park, Montana

Why Visit: Known as the "Crown of the Continent," Glacier National Park offers over 700 miles of trails and breathtaking views. It’s perfect for adventurous families who love the outdoors.

Activities: Hiking, camping, kayaking, and wildlife viewing.

Best Family Resort: Silverwolf Log Chalets Cost:$200 - $350/night Number of Travelers: Suitable for families of 4-6

Travel Tip: Plan your visit between late June and early September to access the full range of trails and activities Glacier National Park Info.

7. Chena Hot Springs Resort, Fairbanks, Alaska

Why Visit: For a unique winter wonderland experience, visit Chena Hot Springs. Families can enjoy soaking in the hot springs under the Northern Lights, along with other activities like dog sledding and visiting an ice museum.

Activities: Hot springs, Northern Lights viewing, dog sledding, and ice museum tours.

Best Family Resort: Chena Hot Springs Resort Cost:$200 - $300/night Number of Travelers: Best for families of 3-5

Travel Tip: Visit between September and March for the best chances to see the Northern Lights Chena Hot Springs Info.

8. Telluride, Colorado

Why Visit: Telluride offers a mix of adventure and relaxation, with activities like skiing, hiking, and gondola rides. The town’s historic charm and scenic views make it an excellent destination for families.

Activities: Skiing, hiking, gondola rides, and exploring Main Street.

Best Family Resort: Madeline Hotel and Residences Cost:$350 - $500/night Number of Travelers: Great for families of 4-5

Travel Tip: The free gondola ride offers some of the best views of Telluride and the surrounding mountains Telluride Family Guide.

9. Park City, Utah

Why Visit: Known for its world-class ski resorts, Park City is also a year-round destination with plenty to offer. Families can enjoy skiing in winter and mountain biking or the alpine slide in summer.

Activities: Skiing, mountain biking, alpine slide, and shopping.

Best Family Resort: Hyatt Centric Park City Cost:$300 - $450/night Number of Travelers: Ideal for families of 4-6

Travel Tip: Don’t miss the Park City Museum for a bit of local history Park City Travel Info.

10. Whiteface Lodge, Lake Placid, New York

Why Visit: Nestled in the Adirondacks, Whiteface Lodge offers a classic lodge experience with modern amenities. The area is perfect for winter sports as well as summer lake activities.

Activities: Skiing, hiking, fishing, and boating.

Best Family Resort: Whiteface Lodge Cost:$400 - $600/night Number of Travelers: Best for families of 4-5

Travel Tip: The lodge’s amenities, like the movie theater and skating rink, make it a hit with kids Whiteface Lodge Info.

Conclusion

Mountain getaways are an excellent choice for family vacations, offering a mix of adventure, relaxation, and cultural experiences. Whether you're looking to ski in Aspen, soak in hot springs in Alaska, or hike the trails of Glacier National Park, these destinations provide something for everyone. Plan ahead to take advantage of the best travel times and accommodations, ensuring a cozy and memorable trip.

For more family travel ideas, visit LLIVO Family Vacations.

[whitepolaris]

Haunted Lighthouses on the Central Oregon Coast

It is almost expected that lighthouses are haunted. This is based in part on the lonely existence of lighthouse keepers. Many of them have gone insane from the isolation or from watching too many ship wrecked upon the shores they guarded. Three of Oregon's central coast lighthouses, at Yaquina Bay, Yaquina Head, and Heceta Head, all have reputation for being haunted, based on stories of madness and tragedy.

The Yaquina Bay Lighthouse

Visitors to the Yaquina Bay lighthouse in Newport are surprised to see that it is a two-story wooden caretaker's house with a three-story wooden tower attached. It does not resemble the stone-and-brick structure most people expect. Soon after the lighthouse was built, it was obvious that it was too far inside Yaquina Bay for its beacon to help ships along the coast navigate safely. It was replaced less than three years later by the nearby Yaquina Head lighthouse, its light extinguished in 1874. The lighthouse was used for only three years.

According to folklore, at least one ghost inhabits the Yaquina Bay lighthouse. Shortly after the lighthouse ceased operations in 1874, a group of local young people discovered a secret wall panel and metal door in an upper-story closet. Inside the door they found a tunnel or chute leading down. After they left, one of the members said she had left her handkerchief in the lighthouse. She went inside alone, but her friends followed her a few minutes later after hearing her scream.

Inside they found a trail of blood drops leading upstairs and a pool of warm blood on the floor of one of the upstairs bedrooms. They saw her handkerchief lying on the floor of the closet where they found the hidden door. She was never seen again. Rumors continued for a hundred years about strange lights and figures seen at night in the old lighthouse.

If the story seems like a work of fiction, it is. In 1899, Lischen Miller wrote the story for Pacific Monthly, detailing a story of terror and suspense along the Oregon coast. She picked the Yaquina lighthouse as the setting for her tale.

Many visitors have reported seeing strange figures or lights in the top of the three-story lighthouse tower, even after the lighthouse beacon was turned off. According to some of the staff at the lighthouse, this was due to camera flash reflections. Weird Oregon spoke with some of the volunteers and learned of other stories. One of the volunteers was in the basement cleaning up after the lighthouse closed. He heard the sounds of footsteps walking on the first floor above him. He went up to investigate but he found the place empty.

Learn more about the Yaquina Bay lighthouse at www.yaquinabaylights.org/ybay.html.

Yaquina Head Lighthouse

The U.S. Light-House Board built Yaquina Head Lighthouse. The lighthouse beacon is located at the top of a ninety-three-foot brick tower, perched on an eighty-four-foot-high cliff. The lighthouse was completed in 1873.

The first ghost story dated to the tower's construction. The tower was built with inner and outer brick walls, and a hollow space the builders filled with rubble. This allowed the tower to bend a bit in high winds, rather than cracking and breaking. They had to add the fill all at one time to ensure it would pack tightly. When they opened the hoppers, one of the workmen fell inside, and the others could not get him out in time. Supposedly, he can be heard tapping on the lighthouse walls on quiet days, hoping someone will get him out.

According to some stories posted at the lighthouse visitor's center, the second ghost is Henry Higgins, an assistant lighthouse keeper. According to the stories, sometime in the 1930s, the head keeper went into Newport for a drink, leaving Henry and another keeper at the lighthouse. The other keeper drank himself into a stupor, leaving Higgins to carry cans of oil up the 114 steps to the top of the tower. Higgins had a heart attacks and died. Ever since, people have heard Higgins walking up the stairs and have felt his presence on the landing where he died.

Weird Oregon author Jeff Davis asked an employee inside the visitor's center about any spirits. The man looked around carefully before replying. Seeing that there was no one nearby, he replied that he had been in the lighthouse alone and had felt something. And no one would confirm or deny the stories of the workmen legend says was buried inside the tower.

For more information about the Yaquina Head lighthouse, visit www.yaquinalights.org/yhead/html.

Heceta Head Lighthouse

The Heceta Head lighthouse near Yachats, built in 1893, is the most expensive lighthouse built along the Oregon coast. It also has the most powerful beacon and is the most photographed lighthouse in Oregon, if not the entire United States. Despite its relative youth-it is the youngest of the three lighthouses-it also is probably the most haunted lighthouse on the Oregon coast. Fortunately for Weird Oregon readers, it is also open to the public, as a bed-and-breakfast.

Technically, the lightkeeper's quarters are haunted, not the lighthouse-nor is the lighthouse open to bed-and-breakfast guests. stories first arose in the 1970s, when Lane Community College leased the building as an extension campus. The most dramatic stories date to 1976, when workers began repairing the building. One of the carpenters was in the attic replacing several broken windowpanes when he felt a cold wind behind him. He turned around and saw a middle-aged woman floating in the air. Her old-fashioned dress was pressed against her by the wind. She opened her arms towards the man. Somehow he made his way past her, down the attic stairs, and out of the building without hurting himself. He never came back, so she visited him in his dreams for the next four nights.

They called her Rue, though historians believe that this may be the spirit of Mrs. DeRay, wife of a past lighthouse keeper, who was obsessed with keeping the house clean. One night the innkeepers heard the sound of someone in the attic walking around and apparently using a broom. The next morning they went up to the attic and saw that all the glass was swept into a neat pile.

Rue may also be the ghostly lady seen standing outside, over the grave of a child nearby.

More than a decade ago, the Lane Community College lease ended and the U.S. Forest Service let the building be turned into a bed-and-breakfast. The innkeepers keep a ghost log for guests have reported the scent of flowers or rose perfume. Others have entered their rooms to see an imprint on their beds, as if someone has been lying there only seconds before.

Make a reservation to see for yourself at www.hecetalighthouse.com.

[coloursofunison]

I'm delighted to welcome back David Fitz-Gerald and his new book, Rolling Home, to the blog #WesternFiction #WesternAdventure #AmericanWest #NewRelease #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub

I'm delighted to welcome back David Fitz-Gerald and his new book, Rolling Home, to the blog #WesternFiction #WesternAdventure #AmericanWest #NewRelease #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub @authordavefitzgerald @thecoffeepotbookclub @AuthorDAVIDFG @cathiedunn

I’m delighted to welcome back David Fitz-Gerald and his new book, Rolling Home from the Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail series, to the blog with a series trailer. Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail Series Trailer Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail Series Trailer Here’s the blurb Climb aboard! Don’t miss the heart-pounding climax of the Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail series. Rolling Home is the final…

[linneatanner]

Book Spotlight Rolling Home David Fitz-Gerald #WesternFiction #WesternAdventure #AmericanWest #NewRelease #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub @AuthorDAVIDFG @cathiedunn

Book Spotlight Rolling Home David Fitz-Gerald #WesternFiction #WesternAdventure #AmericanWest #NewRelease #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub @AuthorDAVIDFG @cathiedunn Linnea Tanner BOOK SPOTLIGHT: ROLLING HOME  It is my pleasure to welcome David Fitz-Gerald and to spotlight his book, Rolling Home, in The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour held on June 18th, 2024. The Western / Historical Fiction novel, Rolling Home (Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail) was independently released by the author on June 15th, 2024 (254 pages). Below are highlights of Rolling Home, Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail series trailer, and David Fitz-Gerald’s author bio. Tour Schedule Page: https://thecoffeepotbookclub.blogspot.com/2024/05/blog-tour-rolling-home-by-david-fitz-gerald.html HIGHLIGHTS: ROLLING HOME   Rolling Home: A Pioneer Western Adventure (Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail) By David Fitz-Gerald Blurb: Climb aboard! Don’t miss the... Read the full article

[mschmdtphotography]

Rolling Home

Book Title: Rolling Home Series: Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail Author: David Fitz-Gerald Publication Date: June 15, 2024 Publisher: David Fitz-Gerald Pages: 254 Genre: Western, Historical Fiction Series Trailer: https://youtu.be/sWvp6dtbXvA Twitter Handle: @AuthorDAVIDFG @cathiedunn Instagram Handle: @authordavefitzgerald @thecoffeepotbookclub Hashtags: #WesternFiction #WesternAdventure…

[chantireviews]

SNARLING WOLF: Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail Book 4 by David Fitz-Gerald - Historical Fiction, American West, Mystical

  In Snarling Wolf, David Fitz-Gerald’s fourth installment of an adventurous migration to Oregon, wagon wheels sidewind along and through the serpentine Snake River. It’s summertime, hot and dangerous on the cross-country trails. Wild animals, and the titular Snarling Wolf, ominously share the wilderness with a caravan of travelers. The group has become accustomed to their daily routines, but…

[alicegrady98]

Seasonal Activities in Towson, Maryland: A Year-Round Guide.

Towson, Maryland, is a vibrant community with something for everyone, no matter the season. From outdoor adventures to cultural experiences, there's always something to see and do in this charming town. Whether you're a local resident or just passing through, here's a guide to enjoying Towson year-round.

Spring: As the weather warms up and flowers begin to bloom, spring is the perfect time to explore the outdoors in Towson, Maryland. Take a stroll through the beautiful Sherwood Gardens, known for its breathtaking displays of tulips and other spring flowers. For more outdoor fun, head to Loch Raven Reservoir for hiking, picnicking, and birdwatching.

Summer: Summer in Towson means outdoor festivals and events. Don't miss the annual Feet on the Street block party, where you can enjoy live music, food trucks, and local vendors. Beat the heat with a trip to Oregon Ridge Park, where you can swim in the lake, hike the trails, or catch an outdoor concert. And if you're a fan of baseball, be sure to catch a game at the nearby Oriole Park at Camden Yards.

Fall: As the leaves change color, Towson comes alive with fall festivities. Spend a day at Weber's Cider Mill Farm, picking apples, navigating the corn maze, and enjoying freshly baked pies. For a spooky good time, take a ghost tour of the historic Hampton National Historic Site. And don't forget to indulge in some seasonal treats like pumpkin spice lattes from local cafes.

Winter: When winter arrives, Towson transforms into a winter wonderland. Lace up your skates and hit the ice at the Towson University Ice Rink, where you can enjoy open skate sessions or take skating lessons. Warm up with a cup of hot cocoa from one of the many charming cafes downtown, then stroll along the festive streets adorned with twinkling holiday lights. And if you're feeling adventurous, head to nearby Gunpowder Falls State Park for cross-country skiing or snowshoeing.

Year-Round Attractions: No matter the season, there are a few attractions in Towson that are worth visiting year-round. The Towson Town Center offers a premier shopping experience with a wide range of stores and restaurants to explore. History buffs will enjoy a visit to the Hampton National Historic Site, where you can tour the historic mansion and gardens. And for art enthusiasts, the Towson Arts Collective showcases the work of local artists in a variety of mediums.

Conclusion: From outdoor adventures to cultural experiences, Towson, Maryland, offers a wide range of activities year-round. Whether you're exploring the great outdoors in spring, enjoying outdoor festivals in summer, admiring the fall foliage, or embracing the winter chill, there's always something to see and do in this charming town. So pack your bags and get ready to discover all that Towson has to offer, no matter the season.

[bestmusicalworldcup]

The Best Snubbed Musical World Cup

The Best Snubbed Musical World Cup is a tournament to determine the best musical excluding those that won the Tony Award for Best Musical. Submissions are now closed! The final list of musicals in the Best Snubbed Musical World Cup is below.

& Juliet 1789: Les Amants de la Bastille 21 Chump Street 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee 35MM: A Musical Exhibition A New Brain Ablaze The Act Adamandi Aida Alice By Heart Allegiance An American in Paris American Idiot American Psycho Amélie Anastasia Anne & Gilbert Annie Get Your Gun Anything Goes Anyone Can Whistle The Art Of Pleasing Princes Assassins Back to the Future the Musical Bandstand Bare: A Pop Opera Be More Chill Beauty and the Beast Beetlejuice The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas Big Fish Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson Bonnie and Clyde Bran Nue Dae Bright Star Calvin Berger Carousel Carrie Chess Chicago Chitty Chitty Bang Bang Cinderella (Rodgers & Hammerstein) Clown Bible The Color Purple Come from Away The Count of Monte Cristo Death Note: The Musical Dogfight The Dolls of New Albion Dracula Dreamgirls The Drowsy Chaperone Elisabeth Émilie Jolie Evil Dead: The Musical Falsettos The Fantasticks Finding Neverland Firebringer Fly by Night Frankenstein The Frogs Funny Girl Ghost Quartet Godspell Grease Groundhog Day The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals Gypsy Hair Hans Christian Andersen Heathers Hedwig and the Angry Inch Holy Musical B@man! Hoy no me puedo levantar The Hunchback of Notre Dame In Transit Into the Woods Jagged Little Pill Jane Eyre Jekyll & Hyde Jesus Christ Superstar Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat La Légende du roi Arthur The Last Five Years Le Roi Soleil Legally Blonde The Light in the Piazza The Lightning Thief Little Shop of Horrors Lizzie The Lord of the Rings Love in Hate Nation Love Never Dies The Mad Ones Made in Dagenham The Magic Show Magic Tree House: The Musical Mary Poppins Matilda Mean Girls Mentiras el musical Merrily We Roll Along Miss Saigon Mozart! Mozart, l'opéra rock Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 Newsies Next to Normal Notre-Dame de Paris Octet Oklahoma Oliver On the Town On Your Feet! The Story of Emilio & Gloria Estefan Once on this Island Once Upon A Mattress Ordinary Days Parade Phantom (Yeston & Kopit) Pippin The Pirate Queen Preludes Pretty Woman The Prince of Egypt Priscilla, Queen of the Desert The Prom Ragtime Rebecca Ride the Cyclone The Rocky Horror Show Roméo et Juliette: de la Haine à l'Amour Sarafina! The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (1964) The Secret Garden The Scarlet Pimpernel Seussical Seven Brides for Seven Brothers She Loves Me Show Boat Shrek the Musical Sidd Singin' In the Rain Six Soldaat van Oranje Something Rotten Spies are Forever The Spitfire Grill SpongeBob SquarePants: The Broadway Musical Starry Starship Sunday in the Park With George Tanz der Vampire / Dance of the Vampires Tarrytown The Threepenny Opera / Die Dreigroschenoper Tick Tick Boom Timéo The Trail to Oregon! Tuck Everlasting Twisted Urinetown Waitress West Side Story Wicked Wiedzmin The Wild Party (Lippa) The Wizard of Oz (1987) The Woman in White Wonderland You're a Good Man Charlie Brown

[ovalleba]

Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail #tour

Embark on a harrowing trek across the rugged American frontier in 1850. A Grave Every Mile Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail Book 1 by David Fitz-Gerald Genre: Historical Western Adventure Fiction Embark on a harrowing trek across the rugged American frontier in 1850. Your wagon awaits, and the untamed wilderness calls. This epic western adventure will test the mettle of even the bravest…

[whitepolaris]

The Witch's Castle at Macleay Park

Forest Park, a five-thousand-acre reserve just went of downtown Portland, provides a dramatic change of scenery from the urban sprawl surrounding it. Entering it is like being swallowed into another, more primeval world. Extending for eight miles along the Willamette River, it is the largest urban forest in the United States. A portion of its southern end is designated as a separate area, Macleay Park. The entire expense boasts more than seventy miles of trails for walking and biking, but one spot in particular has become the prime destination for many seekers of the weird.

Walking about a mile on the Lower Macleay (aka Balch Creek) Trail from Macleay Park will lead you to the gutted ruins of a stone building popularly known as the Witch's Castle. Weathered and moss-laden, it certainly looks as creepy and foreboding as its name implies. The legends surrounding it are appropriately unnerving.

Stumping the Balches

Part of the mystique surrounding the Witch's Castle, called the Stone House by the Portland Parks and Recreation Department, is inspired by events involving the original landowners, more than 150 years ago.

In the 1850s, Danford Balch and his wife, Mary Jane, lived with their five sons and four daughters in a cabin on 350 acres of the surrounding forest, which they'd acquired in a land claim. In October 1858, Balch hired a young laborer from Vancouver, Washington, named Mortimer Stump to help him clear some land. Stump temporarily moved in with the family and immediately became smitten with fifteen-year-old Anna Balch, the eldest daughter. Anna returned his affection, so one day Stump asked Balch for Anna's hand in marriage.

As Stump's employer, Balch thought of himself as socially superior to Stump and his kin. He refused Stump and then evicted him. After Mortimer Stump and Anna Balch eloped in Vancouver on November 4, Anna moved in with the Stump family.

On November 18, the couple, along with Stump's father and brother, took the Stark Street Ferry to Portland to pick up supplies. They ran into drunken Balch, who belligerently insisted that Anna go home with him. Cuthbert Stump, the father remarked, "You are making a great fuss about your child; she is an ordinary little bitch and I do not know what the hell you want of her!" Balch retrieved his double-barreled shotgun at home and returned in time to catch the Stumps boarding the ferry back to Vancouver. Balch followed them onboard. Whatever deliberately (as the Stumps claimed) or by accident (as Balch insisted), his double-barreled shotgun went off, blasting Mortimer Stump in the face and killing him.

Witnesses quickly disarmed and subdued Balch, and he was arrested. A trial was scheduled for the following spring, but soon after his arrest, Balch escaped and hid in the forest around his homestead. Evidence suggests that Balch tired faking his own death, because Mary Jane identified a drowning victim as her fugitive husband. Yet police found him eight months after his escape, on July 23, 1859.

When the case finally went to trial, several neighbors testified against Balch and even implicated Mary Jane, who they said was just as angry about Anna's elopement. According to the witnesses, she constantly nagged her hard-drinking husband to fulfill his oft-repeated vow to kill Mortimer Stump. For Balch's part, he denied even knowing the witnesses, insisting that he was being set up. In the end, Balch was convicted of murder and sentenced to hang.

On October 17, 1859, Danford Balch earned the dubious honor of becoming the first person to executed in the state of Oregon. An apocryphal story has his daughter Anna attending the hanging with the Stamp family.

Ghost Wars and Satanism

By 1897, rest estate developer Donald Macleay owned a portion of the former Balch property. Frustrated with the taxes on the impractical forested hillside, he donated it to the city of Portland and its name became Macleay Park. Other surrounding properties were converted into parks in subsequent years.

Among the legends derived from the Balch-Stump conflict is the (probably mistaken) belief that Danford Balch's hanging happened somewhere in the park. Many people also believe the Witch's Castle to be the remains of the old Balch home. Actually, the eerie structure is what left of a Depression-era restroom.

It's said the restless spirits of the Stump and Balch families dwell around here, feuding for eternity in midnight "ghost wars." Over the years a few curious people who came here in the dark of night supposedly disappeared, perhaps into a ghostly netherworld. Others were eventually found wandering on the park trails, as lost in the mid as they were in direction. The rest were apparently spared, perhaps so that they could warn others away from the Witch's Castle . . . or perhaps to lure them there. These otherworldly tales allegedly attract other sinister activities, such as late-night satanic rituals that include torture and human sacrifice.

[coloursofunison]

I'm delighted to welcome back David Fitz-Gerald and his new book, Snarling Wolf, to the blog #WesternAdventure #AmericanWest #WildWest #HistoricalWestern #NewRelease #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub

I'm delighted to welcome back David Fitz-Gerald and his new book, Snarling Wolf, to the blog #WesternAdventure #AmericanWest #WildWest #HistoricalWestern #NewRelease #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub @authordavefitzgerald @thecoffeepotbookclub@AuthorDAVIDFG

I’m delighted to welcome back David Fitz-Gerald and his new book, Snarling Wolf, book 4 in the Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail series, to the blog with a series trailer. Series Trailer Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail series trailer Here’s the blurb Dive back into the gripping, frontier chaos. Snarling Wolf is the fourth adventurous installment in the Ghosts Along the Oregon Trail series. The…