Trailer, Bear, and Jaguar

When wildlife respects you, you're someone to be feared

My writing coach suggested I add a scene to The Augmented Man that demonstrates Trailer’s “alpha-ness” in the woods, basically that he’s the uberpredator and even top predators fear him.

Good assignment.

But Trailer, in the woods among wildlife, isn’t feared in the way my coach wanted me to depict him. Animals in the wild acknowledge each other and little more. They do not threaten unless they are threatened, they do not attack unless there is no other choice. They won’t attack you unless you’re stupid and they are ravenously hungry or diseased.

So I wrote the following because it 1) depicts Trailer’s status in the wild, 2) shows relatively early on that he’s not the monster everybody assumes he is.

And then I pulled it because – even though I like it a lot – it didn’t fit. It added a scene that is demonstrated elsewhere in the book and at a better place in the narrative.

So what to do with it? As I wrote in Ripping Out the Pattern, I’m saving it. My publisher‘s asked for sequels to The Augmented Man. I’ll put it in one of those, me thinks.

Meanwhile, here it is. Let me know what you think.

Trailer in the Wild
Fives miles further in he slowed. There were blood signs on the trail. Deer, definitely. And coyote.
And bear. He inhaled deeply. A sow and two cubs.
He stopped running silently. He kicked up brush and pine cones, let twigs snap under his feet, slapped trees as he passed them.
He came through the trees low to the ground. The sow faced him, stared straight at him but didn’t challenge him, her two cubs feeding on the carcass behind her.
Trailer evaluated the scene rapidly. A coyote pack had downed an aging buck, filled themselves: vines and leaves, most undergrowth, flattened for about ten feet around. Tufts of coyote fur here and there. Paw marks, some deep, preceding blood smears where the coyote had dragged a hank or rib to suck out the marrow.
Then the sow arrived with her two cubs, drawn by the smell of warm blood and probably the howling of the pack announcing their kill.
Wise coyotes and probably already gorged, they left momma to feed her children.
And now she stared at Trailer, showing no fear.
Animals, he’d learned, never showed him fear. Humans always. Or mostly always. Animals, never.
Long ago he’d been tracking in the Orinoco. A Pancho Pathfinder team were fleeing ahead of him, no longer attempting stealth, now knowing only fear, knowing they would die and wanting to prolong their lives by as many seconds as possible.
Trailer, keeping their scents fresh in him, encountered something new, something different, a smell he’d never encountered before.
To the left. A hundred yards or so off the Panchos’ trail.
He investigated.
A jaguar and newborn kits, their eyes not even open, mewling as she licked them clean of natal fluids and nuzzled them to her teats.
She spotted him as she ate the afterbirth.
She snarled, her whiskers flashing forward from her muzzle, her ears pulled back against her head.
She was still exhausted from delivering her kits. And they would die if she didn’t nurse them.
But she would die for them.
“It is dangerous here, Little Mother,” Trailer said. The scent of the Panchos was still strong, although fading as they continued their flight through the jungle. He could still track and sanction his target, preferably while the others watched.
He knelt before the jaguar. “Feed your children, Little Mother. I will stay and keep you safe but then you must go.”
He turned his back to the big cat and listened until all the violence was far, far away. Then he stood and left.
Now the bear stared at him while her cubs dined. “It is dangerous for you here, Mother. You’re too close to civilization to not be noticed. Then they will take your cubs from you and kill you.”
He somersaulted into the trees, over the sow and next to her cubs. He picked up one in each arm and took the remains of the carcass in his hands, then continued running the trail, now slowly enough for the bellowing sow to follow him.
Thirty miles in he picked up speed slightly. The sow shrieked her rage as her children left her line of sight.
Then Trailer stopped. He put the carcass and the cubs down.
The sow raged through the trees and reared up, her claws slashing in front of her.
“Mother, your children are safe.”
As if she understood, the sow lowered herself to the ground and licked her cubs, first one then the other then the first again, as if joyful and relieved to discover they were safe.
“This will be better for them and you, Mother.”
They ate.
And Trailer was gone.

For Immediate Release: Acclaimed Author of Multiple Genres Signs With Oghma Creative Media

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2401 Beth Lane Bentonville, Arkansas Phone (479) 879-7226


For Immediate Release
Contact: Cyndy Miller, Editorial Director
cyndy at oghmacreative dot net

July 20, 2018

Acclaimed Author of Multiple Genres Signs With Oghma Creative Media

Bentonville, AR, July 23, 2018– Oghma Creative Media is honored to sign Joseph Carrabis, an author of multiple fiction genres, to a multi-book deal. A master story-teller with a sharp sense of humor and a free spirit. Carrabis can bring forth the joy of a five-year-old in one moment, and the wisdom of a thousand-year-old sage the next.

Oghma is very excited to welcome Joseph and publish his series of books about the curious workings of our inner minds and creativity.


For many years, Carrabis dabbled in the arts of science and combined them with his interests in fantasy. His non-fiction books are the Reading Virtual Minds consumer neuroscience series. His first fiction anthology is Tales Told ‘Round Celestial Campfires and his work includes Empty Sky, The Goatmen of Aguirra, and Winter Winds. He is not afraid to plunge deep into his imagination to create an approachable, yet humorous voice.

Oghma’s Creative Media’s editorial director, Cyndy Miller, says “Oghma is very excited to welcome Joseph and publish his series of books about the curious workings of our inner minds and creativity.”

First up to be published is The Augmented Man, a scifi thriller described as a cross between Michael Crichton and Tom Clancy.

For more information about renowned author Joseph Carrabis, visit his website: Readers can also get updates on his newest books and events by following him on social media:

Oghma Creative Media is located in Bentonville, Arkansas. The mission of Oghma Creative Media is to develop and promote quality authors who are overlooked by traditional business models and currently lost among the unfiltered mass media distribution channels.  Oghma Creative Media has focused on publishing and creativity since 2013.

MindMaster Case File 455: The UnResponsive Male

She opened my office door and the room temperature went up ten degrees. She wore a wide brimmed blue fedora that slipped down, covering her face slightly and it was the only loose thing she wore. She was shaped like an hourglass and it was only a few minutes past the hour. Her fedora matched her eyes and there was a cool shower of blond hair framing her northern european features. I noticed this even though I could hear my mother telling me it was impolite to stare.

The lady in the fedora said, “May I come in?”

I was going to comment that some of her all ready had but my tongue was too busy falling out the side of my mouth to form words. “Ungh-nghe,” I said.
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The Augmented Man -Synopsis

The ultimate battlefield is the human heart

The US government is engaged in a South American war and losing badly. After years of standard and non-standard strategies and tactics failing, the government entertains an often-made suggestion: create supersoldiers. The suggestion is about to be dismissed when (then) Captain James Donaldson adds an outrageous modification: use horribly abused and already traumatized children as the source material. These individuals, Donaldson argues, are already hardened against anything they’ll experience on the battlefield and anything we’ll ask them to do.
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The Augmented Man – Surface

What do you do when the ultimate weapon falls in love?

1 April 2053
Trailer closed his eyes and sat at the end of the bar where the cigarette-burned, cheap black Formica countertop met the wall. He eased himself onto the last stool, tucking into the corner in the dim light, a spider hiding out of sight at the edge of its web. His fingers hovered over the cigarette burns closest to him as if divining their cause, sensing them like small, unhealed wounds, seeing the people involved, learning if each burn was an accident or intentional. The door opened and he smelled the cool April evening on his skin. It was followed by the alcoholic breath and sweat of two men and a woman they supported between them.

Trailer brought his attention back into the bar, collating the activity immediately around him. The barkeeper, a heavy smelling man gnawing a toothpick, his face somewhere between needing a shave and growing a beard, walked over to Trailer. “Yeah?”
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