They continued to trudge up what passed for a trail. As far as Vincent could tell it was a collection of mud, rocks and bushes with sharp thorns and leaves. Everything seemed designed to ruin his suit, even through the floor length leather coat he wore. To make things worse he often had to bend nearly double to get his large pack through the most overgrown sections.
And all the while Davey kept on talking about Ol’ Man Wickleberry. How he wasn’t really dead. How people sometimes saw him in these very forests. How some people had been attacked by Ol’ Man Wickleberry. How some had simply not returned from a visit into the depths of the forest. How they had never been heard from again. How that was definitely down to Ol’ Man Wickleberry.
“It shouldn’t be much further now,” Jake sai
