The Mayhem Wrangler By D. R. Schervish
ABOUT THE MAYHEM WRANGLER
Former military remote viewer Bobby Doucette has tried like hell to forget his past, including his supernatural gifts – but nothing ever quite works out as planned and he just put another bullet through the second TV in a month. When spree killer Jack Mumford summons the darkest of forces to crush everything Bobby cares about and threatens the lives of innocents, Bobby knows he can no longer sustain his haunted existence, or worse, become a man on the run. With Mumford on the loose after escaping from maximum security and his ex-lover wasting away as a junkie dominatrix, Bobby is faced with his greatest test that will either deliver him from evil or put redemption out of reach for good.
Heading to the Nevada desert that serves as ground zero for a metaphysical battle that entangles unsuspecting souls along the way, Bobby does everything in his power to clear and ground himself through conjuring and meditation. He knows the only real difference between himself and Mumford is intention: Should he match Mumford’s brutal force or find a truer nature. In this journey of the sages, Bobby discovers what it means to be The Mayhem Wrangler.
D.R. SCHERVISH has spent his life seeking adventure, ancient teachings, metaphysical knowledge, and gathering tales to weave into strange and beautiful stories. The Mayhem Wrangler tells a story about a man named Bobby, but the message that beckons beyond the supernatural thriller is the real saga that imparts the knowledge of the ancients and serves as a manual for a modern society that while violently unraveling begs for its own salvation.
A former wilderness guide, sailboat skipper, photojournalist, and United States Coast Guardsman, D.R. Schervish is writing his second novel.
From Chapter 2:
There is a dance men do when they contemplate violence. It’s like a miniature version of two armies sending out probes or scouts to find out the enemy’s strengths and weaknesses. In an event with very few participants, this usually amounts to several verbal jabs or maybe some posturing, but very little actual physical contact. The pop-psychological model of fight-or-flight is actually incomplete. There are four possibilities and not only the two. There is fight, flight, posture, or submit in the lexicon of the animal behaviorist. If the aggressor in one of these scouting or probing exercises gets no response, he can assume one of two things: the opponent has nothing in their ditty bag and they are hoping you go away (submit); or the opponent, no matter how it seems, is capable of putting anyone in the hurt locker (a form of posturing). Daisy was not much to look at, but to say a scorpion is small is gravely underestimating the posture. There would be no warning or “telegraphing,” as my old marital arts sensei would say. Daisy would just move very quickly to the nearest pool cue or beer bottle—whether it was in someone’s hands or not—and unleash a violence that was tremendous. He had no special training to speak of, just an unbeatable will. Within seconds it would be time to leave, and there would be a good deal of blood on the floor.
From Chapter 9:
Coyote looked at Crow and stopped his ranting. He could tell Crow was looking at something, but it wasn’t Coyote. Coyote turned his head and saw a black shape in the outline of a human that was vibrating, as if it was trying to tune in to this moment and the frequency was not quite right. Coyote could feel the awareness now and knew the entity next to him needed his help. Coyote had known about these beings for as long as he could remember and knew their work was important. He sensed what the being wanted rather than heard and immediately gave his permission for the request. From Crow’s point of view, Coyote looked as if he had been struck by lightning as he contorted and yelped, and the dark shadow shape of a Ghost Brother slipped into the now-motionless body of a very small and ragged coyote. For about 15 minutes, the body of Coyote did not move. Then he got up and stood there as a shaft of light known as electric purple seemed to come out of nowhere and animate the body. The coyote looked at the crow and flashed bright green and yellow eyes. Then it took off across the sand wash, heading in the direction of Jack Mumford.