#Bobcat Hire

[pacifichire]

What To Look For In A Reliable Dingo Hire Service Provider?

Hiring a dingo can be a game-changer When tackling outdoor projects, from landscaping to small excavation tasks.

These versatile machines can make light work of heavy tasks, but choosing the right dingo hire Melbourne service provider is crucial. Here’s a friendly guide on what to look for to ensure you get the best bang for your buck.

Experience and Reputation

One of the first things you should check is the dingo hire Melbourne provider’s experience and reputation.

A company with years of experience is more likely to offer reliable, high-quality service. Look for reviews and testimonials from previous customers.

Positive feedback and high ratings are usually good indicators of dependable service. Ask for recommendations from friends or family who have previously hired a dingo if you can.

Range of Equipment

A reputable dingo hire Melbourne service provider should offer various equipment options. Different projects require different types of dingoes, and having access to a range of machines ensures you can choose the right one for your needs.

Make sure the company has well-maintained and up-to-date equipment. Outdated or poorly maintained machines can lead to delays and additional costs.

Pricing and Transparency

Price is always a key factor when hiring equipment, but it shouldn’t be the only one you consider. A reliable dingo hire Melbourne provider will offer transparent pricing with no hidden fees.

Ensure you understand what’s included in the rental cost, such as fuel, insurance, and delivery charges. It's always a good idea to get a written quote and compare it with other providers to ensure you’re getting a fair deal.

Customer Service

Excellent customer service can greatly impact your experience with a dingo hire Melbourne provider. Look for a company that is responsive and helpful.

They should be able to answer your questions, advise on the best equipment for your project, and assist with any issues.

Good customer service reflects a company’s commitment to customers and can signify a reliable service provider.

Safety and Maintenance

Safety is paramount when hiring any kind of machinery, and dingoes are no exception. Ensure that the dingo hire Melbourne provider adheres to strict safety standards.

Equipment should be regularly inspected and maintained to prevent accidents and malfunctions. Ask about the company’s maintenance procedures and whether they provide safety instructions or training for operating the machinery.

Flexibility and Availability

Sometimes, projects don’t go as planned, and you might need to extend your hire period or change your equipment.

A reliable dingo hire Melbourne provider should offer flexible rental terms and be able to accommodate changes in your schedule.

Check their availability and ensure they can deliver the equipment when you need it. Flexibility can be crucial for keeping your project on track.

Conclusion

Choosing the right dingo hire Melbourne service provider involves more than picking the cheapest option.

By focusing on experience, equipment range, transparent pricing, customer service, safety, and flexibility, you can find a reliable provider that meets your needs and helps your project go smoothly.

Take your time to research and compare options, and don’t hesitate to ask questions. You’ll be well-equipped to tackle your outdoor tasks efficiently and effectively with the right provider.

[harryjessicaa]

A Quick Guide on Choosing Right Machines for Construction Projects

[vermonthire]

What to Expect When You Hire a Bobcat for the First Time?

Have you ever found yourself standing before a big project, feeling a mix of excitement and dread, wondering how on earth you’re going to tackle all that work?

Whether it’s a sprawling garden that needs a makeover, a driveway that needs excavating, or a building site that needs clearing, Bobcat Hire East Melbourne might just be the superhero you didn’t know you needed.

In this post, we’ll walk you through what to expect when you bring this powerful ally on board for the first time.

Understanding What a Bobcat Can Do for You

The Versatility of a Bobcat

A Bobcat skid steer loader is a marvel of modern machinery. It's compact, flexible, and can be fitted with various attachments like buckets, augers, grapples, and more.

This versatility makes Bobcat Hire ideal for a wide range of tasks from earthmoving and landscaping to road sweeping and debris removal. Knowing the capabilities of a Bobcat will help you understand how to maximise its use for your specific project needs.

Selecting the Right Model

Not all Bobcats are created equal. Depending on your project’s scale and the space you’re working in, the size and power of the Bobcat you hire will vary.

Smaller models are great for tight spaces and minor jobs like garden landscaping, while larger models will be needed for moving large volumes of earth or heavy materials. Most Bobcat Hire services offer advice on which model suits your job best, so don’t hesitate to ask!

Before the Bobcat Arrives

Preparing Your Site

Before your hired Bobcat rolls onto the scene, you’ll need to make a few preparations. Clear the area of any large debris, mark out any underground utilities to avoid accidents, and ensure there is adequate access for the machinery. The smoother the preparation, the faster the job will get done once the Bobcat is in action.

Safety First

Safety cannot be overstressed when it comes to operating heavy machinery. When you opt for Bobcat Hire East Melbourne, you’ll either be handling the equipment yourself, or you might have a trained operator come with the hire. If you’re operating it, make sure you receive a thorough briefing or, ideally, some training. Always wear appropriate safety gear like helmets, gloves, and visibility jackets.

During the Bobcat Operation

Understanding the Controls

If you're new to operating a Bobcat, take some time to familiarise yourself with the controls. These machines can be sensitive, and getting a feel for the responsiveness of the controls is crucial. Practice in an open area before starting on the actual task to build your confidence and efficiency.

Efficient Operation Tips

To make the most out of your Bobcat Hire Melbourne, plan your work path and method. Always keep an eye on the weather conditions, as wet weather can affect the ground conditions and make operating a Bobcat more challenging. Work systematically, clear large areas first and tackle detailed work as you progress.

After the Bobcat Has Done Its Job

Checking the Work

Once the major work with the Bobcat is completed, do a thorough check of the area to ensure everything is completed to your satisfaction. This might include smoothing out the terrain, clearing leftover debris, or doing a bit more precision work with smaller attachments.

Returning the Bobcat

After your project is finished, clean the Bobcat as per the hire company’s instructions — clearing out any mud, debris, or materials stuck in the machine. Ensure it's in the same condition as when you received it to avoid any additional fees.

Wrapping Up Your First Bobcat Hire Experience

Congratulations! You've just mastered your first Bobcat Hire and tackled a daunting task with ease. Not only have you learned a lot about handling heavy machinery, but you’ve also significantly advanced your project.

Whether you’re a DIY enthusiast or a professional, the Bobcat is an indispensable tool that can save you time and labour. Now that you know what to expect, your next Bobcat Hire East Melbourne should be even smoother.

Ready to start your next big project with a Bobcat? With the right preparation and understanding, your Bobcat is ready to roll whenever you are. Let’s dig in and make that dream project a reality!

Source: https://vermonthire.mystrikingly.com/blog/what-to-expect-when-you-hire-a-bobcat-for-the-first-time

[planthirebrisbane]

Without including the bobcat hire QLD machine in the construction or demolition projects, it is impossible to complete them on time. This company here has bobcat machines available for hire. They are all equipped with the latest safety and efficiency features. You get a fleet that is supported by a full four feet maintenance service schedule from the equipment supplier.

[aditiaryan]

http://www.tataexcavations.com.au/

[southerncivilgroup]

Energizing Your Construction Projects with Bobcat Hire Services

Projects involving construction call for accuracy, effectiveness, and adaptability. Contractors use Bobcat Hire Batemans Bay services, a vital tool for enabling their projects, to meet these needs. Renowned for their small size but powerful design, bobcats provide a host of advantages that energies building projects and spur creativity and success. This blog post will discuss how Bobcat hire services provide construction projects a boost, helping contractors to overcome obstacles, increase output, and produce amazing outcomes. 

The Versatility Advantage 

Versatility is the cornerstone of Bobcat Hire Batemans Bay services. These sturdy machines can easily adapt to a variety of tasks because they come with a variety of attachments, such as buckets, augers, forks, and grapples. Bobcats are excellent in various tasks, including trench excavation, surface grading, and material transportation. This reduces the need for many machines and streamlines project workflows. Due to their adaptability, contractors can take on challenging projects head-on, which promotes productivity and creativity at work. 

Efficiency Unleashed 

Construction projects that are successful are built on efficiency, and bobcat hiring services are widely associated with simplified processes. Bobcats' small size makes it possible for them to precisely man oeuvre in confined locations, which maximizes efficiency in confined urban environments. Moreover, their robust hydraulic systems provide unparalleled efficiency, enabling operators to complete jobs quickly and precisely.  

Safety First 

In the construction sector, safety is of the utmost importance. Bobcat hiring services put the health and safety of both workers and onlookers first. Bobcats' small footprints reduce possible risks and increase on-site safety by lowering the chance of mishaps in tight places. Furthermore, the ergonomic layout of Bobcat cabins places a high priority on operator comfort and visibility, which enhances situational awareness and reduces the possibility of mistakes or weariness.  

Environmental Responsibility 

In a time of growing environmental awareness, Bobcat hire services provide sustainability advantages that appeal to consumers and contractors who share this concern. The engines of contemporary Bobcats are fuel-efficient, minimizing pollutants and lowering the carbon footprint of construction operations. In addition, their accurate functioning reduces needless disruption to adjacent ecosystems, rendering them an eco-friendly option for delicate undertakings.  

Driving Innovation 

The goal of bobcat hire services is to not only address current needs but also to get ready for future obstacles. The continuous progress in science and engineering is making Bobcats more intelligent, effective, and versatile than in the past. Automation, telemetric, and remote monitoring are just a few of the features that enable contractors to maximize productivity, predict maintenance requirements, and reduce downtime—all of which spur innovation and competitiveness in the construction sector. Conclusion 

Construction projects are energized by the adaptability, efficiency, safety, and sustainability that bobcat hiring services provide in equal measure. Contractors may overcome obstacles, increase productivity, and produce extraordinary outcomes that surpass expectations by utilising the power of Bobcats. Bobcat Hire Batemans Bay will remain a vital force behind innovation and growth as the construction sector changes and adopts new technologies. Through collaboration with Bobcat hiring services, builders may create a future in which construction is associated with quality and sustainability. 

Disclaimer: This is generic information and posts; content about the services can be changed from time to time as per your requirements and contract. To get the latest and updated information, contact us today or visit our website.        

[acthouselandscapingm]

Beyond Efficiency: The Multifaceted Advantages of Bobcat Services

The continual search for enhanced efficiency inspires new developments in the construction and landscaping industries. Bobcat Services nearby Canberra are an outstanding example of the technical prowess that extends beyond typical efficiency and has transformed many industries. Due to its adaptable machinery and modern technology, Bobcat services provide an array of benefits that improve both the bar and the standard of completed projects.

Precision Redefined

Bobcat contractors Canberra, Act House and Landscaping Maintenance, is known for their precise performance. Their latest technology enables them to excavate, grade, trench, and deal with materials with surgical precision. Compared to laborious and error-prone human methods, Bobcat gear makes it possible to consistently achieve accurate measurements, ensuring that the final product is up to par. This level of precision not only reduces finishing times but also minimizes the probability of expensive rework necessitated.

Enhanced Productivity

The efficiency of hire Bobcat Service Canberra is an integral component of each successful endeavour. Since Bobcat machinery is both sturdy and easily transportable, jobs can be completed quickly, saving on overall project duration. These services significantly improve the project's productivity because of their flexibility and agility in an assortment of environments and assignment types. What may have needed days or weeks using traditional techniques is now achievable in a matter of hours.

Versatility Unleashed

Bobcat's services stand out due to the versatility of its machinery. A single Bobcat machine can turn into an extensive range of tools because of the machine's capability to accommodate a wide variety of accessories. These attachments range from buckets and augers to grapples and mowers. This versatility allows contractors to embark on a wide range of jobs without purchasing an assortment of different machines, saving time, money, and essential workspace. The adaptability of a Bobcat derives from its attachments, which enable it to be utilized in a wide range of assignments, from landscaping to construction.

Safety Amplified

Construction and gardening projects demand careful monitoring of safety. Bobcat Services prioritize safety and use the latest technologies to guarantee the safety of everybody involved. Sturdy safety cages, intuitive controls, and real-time machine data from advanced monitoring systems are typical features of modern Bobcat machines. Bobcat machinery has a reputation for its accuracy, which helps reduce the likelihood of mishaps and other errors on the job.

Cost-Effectiveness at its Core

Saving money is a natural byproduct of improved efficiency, flexibility, and less waste. Bobcat services can appear more expensive initially than traditional options, but they pay for themselves swiftly and then some. Reduced time to finish, less supplies used, and reduced labour costs all add up to a significant ROI. Bobcat services establish their worth over time with better project intervals and lower overhead costs.

Conclusion

Bobcat services include an elevated level of accuracy, flexibility, increased production, security, protection of the environment, etc. Bobcat's services are examples of how the construction and landscaping industries can be reshaped via innovations in technology. By taking advantage of all these benefits, professionals can propel their work to new heights.

[abequipment]

Pioneers in road construction, Sakai’s top-class compaction equipment has made it the preferred choice for many. Chosen for its force and performance, Sakai’s products include various types of compactions and road maintenance equipment such as vibratory single drum roller, static wheel roller, stabilizer, etc. Sakai is also a pioneer of new technology – introducing the world’s first vibratory pneumatic tyre roller. Sakai’s reliable and high-performing range of products is available for rent or to buy from AB Equipment. Browse https://abequipment.co.nz/our-brands/sakai/ for our range of Sakai products or connect with our experienced team to find the product that is suitable to your needs.

[bitchesgetriches]

Maybe dumb question but I went through a bad depression period and lost touch with anyone I could possibly list as a reference... how bad would it be if I just didn't have references when job hunting or like listed the business number of past jobs with no specific person named?

Not too bad at all! People lose touch all the time. And it's not like anyone expects you to hold onto your professional contacts like you would your Grandma's phone number.

(Pro-tip: Call your grandma today. She'd love to hear from you. I talked to mine yesterday and she said she saw a bobcat walking past the back porch and then my brother brought her brownies. It was all very exciting.)

If asked for a list of references, include the companies you previously worked for, their general line, and if you still have it, the email or phone number of whoever your supervisor was. It's polite to call and warn them, but if you don't, that's ok. It won't necessarily ruin your job prospects.

Good luck, sweetie. You're going to be ok!

Dafuq is Networking? And How Do I Do It Remotely? 

How to Write a Resume so You Actually Have a Prayer of Getting Hired 

If you found this helpful, consider joining our Patreon.

[caddyxjellyby]

please reblog and please don't give it away!

[silkendandelion]

My Own, Distant Home (Completed), A Fears to Fathom: Ironbark Lookout fanfiction

Chapter 2 (END), ao3 link

Jack Nelson x Connor Hawkins Words: 16.6k Genre: Horror, humor, smut

"Jack thinks him a good guy, Connor, despite what others probably thought. He wasn’t particularly friendly, a bit of a short fuse, but he took his job seriously, and didn’t forget to wish Jack well, even among his rush for a solution. Some people would call that dedication. Jack decided, as he tied his boot laces, that it was endearing."

Or

A romantic, creepy, canon-compliant retelling of the game's narrative where Jack and Connor are more fleshed out characters, and not immune to the emotional threads that form when your only friend is a voice on the radio—until he isn't.

Rated Explicit for sexual content, strong language, horror elements, frightening imagery and descriptions of violence.

Cross-posted to ao3, same username, here.

Cheers to rarepairs, and to all the people who had a crush on Connor during the game: I have heard you. If you like Firewatch, or Do You Copy, check out fears to fathom, you could play the entire series in a day but I liked Ironbark the best. Even if you haven't played the game, I'm sure this can be read alone for people who like horror and making love in a thunderstorm 💙

Chapter 1 (Below)

It was only a transfer.

Not usually a big deal, this other park needed to fill a lookout position urgently, and Jack was probably the best suited for it. Not only because his coworkers spoke highly of him, but because he had the RV, and relocating was as easy as driving down the road. When you’re this free, no wife, no friends, no obligations, 2 hours is nothing to go to the next job.

Yeah, he thought as his eyes wandered off the road to the side mirror, the endless blacktop behind him, the empty road in front of him. No obligations. Free.

So why did driving up to the trail-head make his stomach ache?

He blamed it on his last meal in civilization for the time being: a perfectly greasy, buttery cheeseburger, no doubt made by a certified home-cooked chef with hairy arms. He wasn’t used to eating out, eating so much, and in hindsight, the large coke was a bit of an Icarus move.

Just a bit of indigestion, nothing to worry about.

Not at all related to his walk to the gas station next door for cigarettes that was interrupted by a creepy local. The one leaning against his car and mouth-harassing his own hamburger, gossiping cryptically about big foot and missing kids like he was a Stephen King minor character. Real “you wanna watch out for that road” stuff.

The same missing kids on the poster across from the gate office. Gone without a trace, with no more search parties willing to keep looking after they lost some of their own people to what witnesses called “strange whistling in the dark”. Anyone saner, smarter, might have gotten back in their RV and not looked back. But Jack loved nature, and liked his job. Until he heard this strange whistling for himself, he had bills to pay and a guy named Billy to see for check-in.

The light to the guard shack was on, the door unlocked as he turns the handle. Worn out and road-fatigued, his brain hardly lends him the advice he should have probably called out to see if anyone was inside. His eagerness earns him a twin-barrel to the face, and a rightfully earned yell from both of them.

“You scared the piss out of me!” The ranger scolded him, and Jack fired back—

“Do you shove a gun in the face of everyone who sneaks up on you? What if I was a camper?”

“You can’t be too careful out here. There’s bobcats, bears and—wait, you say you’re not a camper? What are you doing barging in here anyway?”

“I’m Jack Nelson… Your new hire? Tower 11?”

“Well,” the mustached man regarded him with suspicion beneath his black cowboy hat. “Tower 11 is empty, but I didn’t hear about any new hire. Give me a second.”

“Oh,” Jack refrains from saying anything nasty, regardless of his fatigue, and puts up a patient, half smile. “Sure. Take all the time you need.”

He wandered out of the shack, back to the billboard with the missing poster, only half-reading the posted copy of the trail map he already owned when Billy came back out.

“You’ve been vetted. Sorry about all that, I don’t check my email as often as I should. You must be tired from driving, I’ll just take a copy of your ID and get the gate open so you can start the hike up to the tower.”

Billy was gone for only a minute before he came back, enough time for Jack to get his duffel and lock the RV. He handed back his ID, and pushed open one of the arms of the gate.

“… Hey.” He called before Jack could get passed him.

“Tower 12 is your closest neighbor, call him if you need anything. And don’t—I mean, do NOT go out further than maybe a 1/4 mile north of your tower on foot. Got it?”

“Uh, sure?” Jack gapes at him, unprepared. “Why?”

“It’s dangerous out that way. You’ve got bears, bobcats, all sorts of stuff.”

“Right… Thanks again, Billy. Goodnight.” He waved, eager to make some distance between him and this newest creepy local, and start wearing down the trail to his tower.

Did everyone in this town take etiquette lessons from a paperback horror novels? They were at least in the same book club, which actually wouldn’t be weird for such a small, quiet place.

The walk to the tower is easy, if a little cold by the time he crosses the creek. Tower 11 sits up against a nearby radio spire, lit up red and guiding him to the foot of his home for the foreseeable future. He knows to gas up the generator and crank it before he starts up the long flights of stairs to the top, and the tower cabin, small but not cramped, is a welcome sight.

The sheets on the bed are clean, free of holes and smelling of cheap detergent (ocean breeze something, he guessed), and the good burn of a wood fire seems to be baked into the panel walls and secondhand furniture. All his needed tools are haphazardly scattered but identifiable at a glance, and the fridge, beginning to kick on, is filled with old, freezer burned food.

Not rotted, there’s no unpleasant smell besides stale, and the room is otherwise well-kept, but he can’t help feel that the last occupant left in a hurry. Beside the bed lay a pair of abandoned wool slippers, and those go in the trash too.

All he needs to do is lay out his blanket and pillow to call himself moved in, and getting a fire going is even faster. He’s tying off the trash, waiting for the microwave to finish heating up a cup of coffee, when his radio, boxy and cumbersome on the little desk, clicks to life.

Static greets him before another male voice, deeper than his own.

‘I saw the lights go on. You copy, new guy?’

“Yeah, hey. I’m Jack.” He squeezes the receiver on and off as he sits in the old, steel chair in front of the desk, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow with the back of his arm.

‘Connor, Tower 12. Your new neighbor, I guess.’

A beat of silence, and then a click. “Billy mentioned you, just not by name. Nice to meet you.”

He hears Connor hum into the receiver, distantly wondering if it was a sound of irritation at him or something Jack couldn’t see. ‘Well, you got a fire started, that’s good. It’s good to see Tower 11 alive again.’

With a pause, his voice was friendly again, like whatever he was worried about suddenly resolved itself. ‘Anyway, don’t let me keep you. Oh, and don’t forget to submit your report before you go to bed.’

Jack suppresses his yawn with a wince—half headache, half ready for bed, and clicks the receiver. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

‘Get some rest, new guy, don’t let the bed bugs bite. Over and out.’

“Over and out.”

The radio dims with no open connection, and Jack forgets his coffee in the microwave when he can’t manage to avoid dozing off in the chair.

A few hours pass, midnight rolls upon the park and an unintelligible static rouses him from his sleep. He wants to investigate, his instincts whispering to him that something was wrong, something lurking in the forest beyond his tower, but an ache in his lumbar and the pressure in his bladder leaves no room for anything except the urgency to get comfortable quick. He stretches until his back gives a satisfying crack, and with a quick leak off the railing of the tower, he falls into bed without another thought.

NIGHT 2

On nights like this, Jack can imagine being a lookout forever, nipped by the last throes of winter on a chilly wind yet cradled safely between the warmth bleeding out of his tower and the hot coffee in his hands. Perched up high, nearly brushing against the clouds, the sunset seems brighter than down on the trail, all melted pinks and oranges that don’t begin to betray how in less than an hour the forest will be all but black.

The static of his radio breaks the silence.

‘New guy, this is Connor from Tower 12. Do you copy?’

He drops his empty mug among the dirty dishes from dinner when Connor speaks again. ‘Tower 11, do you copy?’

“Tower 11, I copy. What’s up, Connor?” Jack answers before he eases himself into the desk chair.

‘Son of a bitch! Nobody bothers to get a camping permit anymore. Do you have eyes on the smoke north of your position? Looks like it’s off the Lacey Trail.’

“Give me a second, I’ll check.”

He grabs his binoculars, is almost out the door when Connor’s opening the line again. ‘I need you to confirm.’

“You can hang on, it won’t kill you,” says Jack to himself while peering off the railing. Exactly as Connor described it, north of his tower, and near enough to likely be off the Lacey trail—a closed area—he spies the telltale white smoke of a campfire.

‘Do you see that smoke up north?’, comes the radio again and Jack answers with what he hopes passes for patience.

“I see it.”

‘Shit. People like that don’t clean up after themselves either, and fire risks are high this season. Do you mind checking it out?’

“I’ll head up there, and report back anything I find.” He rises to get his coat and boots.

‘Stay safe out there, new guy. Don’t forget to carry your bear spray. Over and out.’

Jack thinks him a good guy, Connor, despite what others probably thought. He wasn’t particularly friendly, a bit of a short fuse, but he took his job seriously, and didn’t forget to wish Jack well, even among his rush for a solution. Some people would call that dedication. Jack decided, as he tied his boot laces, that it was endearing.

Lacey Trail was several miles away on foot, no matter how close the smoke had seemed in the binoculars, and he pocketed both his bear mace and his flashlight before leaving the tower.

~*~

Unseasonably cold air nips through his fleece jacket, fingers already red around the knuckles as he fumbles to zip himself up. The beam of the flashlight bobs about over the dark trail, “3.2 miles” the optimistic sign had declared back near his tower. Only, the longer he walked, surrounded only by the icy wind biting on his ears and a deafening chorus of insects, the more it felt like “ETA unknown”.

A campfire lights the path around a bend in the trail, a match flame at the end of the path.

Whatever he wanted to call out, “hello”, or “get lost”, was cut off by the unmistakable sound of a man’s scream.

He makes no attempt to call back, taking off in a sprint towards the glowing campsite. The campfire in the center of a couple picnic tables and a tent illuminates the entire clearing between the trees, fresh wood popping, what must have been tossed in only minutes ago. But the campsite is empty. The tent’s open flap reveals a rumpled sleeping bag, the tables are crowded with an oil lantern, a battery-powered radio, and heaps of fresh food—but completely empty.

“Hello? Where are you?” He shouts into the dark with no answer. On the side of the clearing closest to the creek, a closed gate and red sign read ‘No camping allowed’.

“Are you hurt? Where—oh!” Jack coughs out a startled grunt, nearly tripping into the dirt over what he discovers is an abandoned flashlight.

His blood chills, colder than the unseasonable weather. Beyond the cautionary signs, where the darkness swallows the unkempt trail, drifts up the sound of a whistle. A human whistle, devoid of any recognizable melody.

It’s all he can do to stagger back, swipe an empty dinner pot from the picnic table and douse the fire with cold water from the creek. He tosses an unseeing glance over his shoulder, and is hoofing it out of the campsite and up the trail before the campfire has even stopped sizzling.

The cold air stings his lungs as he runs most of the trail back, hot blood thrumming into his ears and all but drowning out the insects. Were he less panicked, he would have heard over the sound of his own breathing that the insects had actually stopped, startled to silence by the looming shape in the treeline.

~*~

The glow of his tower beckons him home, and he scrambles his faculties to remember to grab firewood before climbing the steps, as well as relieve himself in the portable toilet beside the stairs. With what he witnessed, too vivid to not want to trust his own eyes but too strange to possibly be real, he wasn’t sure he would have the nerve to walk back down before dawn.

His radio flashes with an open channel, presumably Tower 12, and he sits heavy down in the metal chair. “Tower 12, do you copy?”

Beats of silence remind him his blood has yet to warm up.

‘Loud and clear, new guy. Sorry for delay, I was just cooking up some hot—’ Connor pauses, too much like Jack did when he thought he was being boring.

‘Nevermind that. What did you find out there?’

“The campsite was abandoned. Not a soul around,” Jack said, pushing down his nausea and the phantom sound of an eerie whistle.

‘Are you—’ A loud clang in the receiver, like a fork dropped in a bowl. ‘Kidding me? Son of a bitch. People like them are part of the problem, and on top of everything they run off.’

Jack fingers the sleeve on his jacket, realizing suddenly he had been too worked up to shrug off his fleece or his boots when he came inside. “I put out the fire, but there’s nothing else we can do tonight.”

‘No no, I get it… Thanks for checking it out, Jack. Tomorrow morning, I’ll report it to the authorities and they can take care of it.’

The words are out of Jack’s mouth before he can scold himself for being frightened in front of someone else. “I heard a scream. Honestly, I feel kind of bad for not sticking around to look harder.”

‘A scream? Probably just a red fox, they sound almost like a screaming lady when the rest of the forest is buzzing.’

Jack clamps down on a protest that it was a man’s scream, clearly no fox, then Connor is speaking again.

‘This is the third time this month. Ever since those kid’s went missing, there’s all sorts of rumors about the area being haunted, and we just can’t keep people out. Well, maybe I could, but not from this tower. I’ve got a job to do.’

The whistle is back in his mind, as vivid as Connor’s voice over the radio but, again, Jack keeps that to himself.

‘Well.’ Connor breaks him from his thoughts. ‘I’ll let you get to dinner, or whatever it is you do after you log off. Goodnight. Over and out.’

“Goodnight, Connor.”

2:27AM

He can’t explain what wakes him.

Nothing immediately seems wrong but he can’t begin to trust his senses, not with the greasy film that smudged his eyes no matter how hard he blinked, the heaviness of his limbs, and a sluggish mind at the helm, ripped from the deepest parts of his sleep cycle.

But even blind, dumb, and lame—he knew he was being watched.

Weak hands scrubbed at his face, trying to clear the sleep, until the room came into some kind of focus. Moonlight drifted in the one open panel behind his computer desk, casting the upright shadow of a—

His heart all but stopped. He squinted, unbelieving, blinking more at the peculiar silhouette painted across his front door. Unclear if it was man or beast, the sloped shoulders suggested humanoid but the shape of the head, wide with points that could be horns or ears in the dark made him unable to do anything more than stare.

Struck by a sudden wave of courage, he leapt up from the bed, throwing the blanket aside without certainty his legs would support him, and dashed to the light switch.

The shadow vanished with the incandescent bulb over head, banished by the light but lending no evidence as to whether it was some paranormal, hungry entity vulnerable to light, or something more secular afraid to be caught. Jack didn’t know which was worse, and standing alone in the center of his floor, he could finally hear how fast his heart was racing.

Whether by insanity or curiosity, though they hardly seemed different from where he stood, one of his shaking hands grabbed his bear mace while the other went for the door. The abrupt quietness of the night lent him courage where it shouldn’t, and upon venturing outside he was horrified to realize he was truly, tragically alone.

Or he was now.

Against the railing, and almost disturbed by the bear mace that clattered to the ground, was a skull.

Goat, from what limited knowledge he had, flanked by a few, worn, lit candles, and smeared across the ivory forehead with a red symbol he refused to get closer to identify either it’s shape or composition. He resigned to shove the door shut, slamming the lock’s hammer in place with no regard for the bear mace he abandoned.

“Tower 12, come in.” He tries the radio receiver, met with static. “Tower 12, can you hear me?”

More static and another beat of silence makes his stomach ache. “Connor, I need you to wake up.”

He’s never been so happy to hear the quiet click of another radio opening the line.

‘Do you have any idea what time it is?’

“This is an emergency.”

‘Are you okay? What’s happened?’ Connor immediately sounds more awake, like he’s sat up straight.

“Someone’s been on my tower, I woke to—I heard footsteps, it woke me up.”

‘Are you kidding me?’ Less composed now, angry but not nearly as when he vented about the campers earlier that evening. Though it was easily explained by the remnants of sleep clinging to him.

“I think they’re gone now.”

‘Did you see what they looked like?’

Jack’s mind raced back to the shadow, the beastly silhouette, and the footsteps that seemed to vanish when they passed by his door.

“N-No, but they left a skull on my doorstep. An animal skull, goat or—something, with candles, what looked like blood. Sick shit, Connor, I don’t—know—”

‘Take a deep breath, new guy. Let’s think about this rationally. You went and investigated a fire tonight, right?’

“… Yeah.”

‘So we know there’s unregistered campers in the area who don’t care about rules or regulations, probably bratty kids or college students. Suppose they wanted to get back at the fire watcher who doused their evening, it wouldn’t be that far of a walk. It’s just kids, Jack, don’t let it bother you.’

“You—” He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “You’re right.”

‘Did you happen to get a photo of the thing?’

“I didn’t think about it.”

‘No shame in that. It’s all right to be riled up, but it’s not okay to panic. Lock your door, try to get some rest. Take a photo in the morning, and we can file a report with the authorities.’

But no sooner was Jack beginning to calm down, the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise, his stomach tightening with the idea that Connor was only coming to the conclusion of what limited information he had.

“Connor?”

Sleepier now, the other man’s voice came back a bothered rumble. ‘Yeah, Jack?’

“What if it’s related to the disappearances? At the campsite tonight, sure, it was empty but I heard… I heard whistling beyond the barriers for the closed trails. It’s a heck of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

For all his neighbor’s frustration at being woken so suddenly, there was no doubt that he was fully awake now, deliberately staying quiet on the other end of the line as Jack waited for any kind of answer.

‘New guy… You don’t believe all those rumors, do you?’

Behind his ribs, Jack’s heart is back to hammering. “Nah. No, I mean. You’re right, it’s gotta be kids.”

Connor didn’t seem convinced, even for a disembodied voice. ‘I’ll tell you what. I’ll send someone to check on you tomorrow. For now, try to get some sleep, new guy. There’s nothing we can do in the dark.’

“Yeah… Thanks. Of course.” He rakes his hand through his hair like if it might knock his anxiety loose. “Goodnight, Connor.”

‘Goodnight, Jack.’

~*~

The skull was gone when he awoke the next morning. Nothing ever came of the report, and for a short time, the forest was quiet.

He’s gotten quite used to this little routine: submit his report, have dinner, say goodnight to Connor, bed.

Check the weather, put dinner in the oven, submit his report while talking to Connor, bed.

So they continued for days, falling into the comfort of predictability and looking forward to their goodnight radio checks.

‘Honestly, I envy you a little bit,’ said Connor one night while Jack posted himself up beside the radio, blanket around his shoulders and holding a hot mug of coffee. Probably not the best idea before lights out, but the warmth in his core more than made up for what his little wood stove lacked in power.

“Envy me? Why?” Jack sipped quietly.

‘You’ve got the RV, you can literally just pick up and go wherever you want. Hell, you did it once already when you relocated out here.’

“It’s… lonelier than I like to admit.”

Down in his cup, Jack could see the undissolved granules of his coffee lying along the bottom. With a quick swish, they’re gone and Connor speaks again.

‘While Tower 11 was empty, I forgot how nice it was to have someone to talk to.’

“You must really be desperate if you’re enjoying my company that much.” Jack found himself smiling, a bittersweet thing.

‘I should be the one saying that to you. Every day I call you to vent about these fucking campers, leaving their trash and shit. And you answer for me every time.’

He chuckled, unaware Connor was also smiling on the other line. “It’s kind of my job.”

‘Ouch.’ They laughed together this time. ‘You’re not supposed to agree with me.’

“Then maybe you should be nicer to yourself.”

‘You first, Jack.’

A comfortable silence falls over both sides of the radio transmission, twin smiles and the warmth of more than quick and dirty coffee between them.

‘You still with me? Sounds like you’re about to go any minute now.’ Connor said, soft and slow. If Jack kept his eyes closed, he could have imagined he said those words beside his ear.

“I think that’s all I’ve got, Connor.” He scrubbed at his eyes. “You get some rest too. Goodnight.”

‘Night, Jack.’

BETWEEN 2 AND 3 AM

A hand over Jack’s mouth bolts him awake, his entire body tensing as he grabs at the arm that holds him.

“Shh! Shh, Jack. It’s me… Its Connor.” He hears a familiar voice somewhere above him, and the blonde man comes into focus as Jack blinks away the last of the sleep. Moonlight shines through the open paneling, illuminating the side of his handsome, worried face, the width of his broad shoulders in a thin t-shirt.

“There’s something outside.” He looks briefly to the window. “Scoot over, Jack.”

He hardly has time to obey, let alone time for rational thoughts like What’s outside? and How is us both getting under the blanket supposed to help? before the other man is climbing into the single bed and pressing against him from the shoulder down.

“What are you doing?” Jack half demands, half pleads.

“Shh.” Connor hushes him, and he wants to relent—almost does—under such dark eyes, close enough to see they were brown in the dim light. “We have to be quiet, or they’ll hear us.”

“Who will hear us? Connor? What’s happ—mmf! M-mm,” Jack moans, startled, when their lips meet, smooth and wet like Connor had licked them before he leaned in.

His belly twinges, toes curling from only a kiss, and he might have been embarrassed if it weren’t for the hot outline of an erection digging into his hip. Connor’s tongue tastes of instant coffee, no doubt he himself tastes like cigarettes, but Connor doesn’t seem bothered. Not with how hard he is and the firm grip of his palm on Jack’s ribs through his old shirt, the way his thumb flicks at his nipple with little regard for how it makes him shake.

Teeth rake his bottom lip when their kiss turns deeper, hungry, panting hot into each other’s mouths as they work together to yank their sleep pants down to their thighs. A whimper jumps up between them as Connor’s hand clasps around them both, and Jack realizes it must have been him because when his thumb slips in the pre leaking from his tip—he makes it again.

The hand retreats long enough for Connor to lick his palm, but Jack knows he’s getting wet enough for the both them, so long as those capable hands keep pulling needy noises from his lips, pulling on his cock like that. Just like that, just how he likes.

“They’re gonna hear you, baby, you gotta be—quiet,” Connor pants against his wet lips. Jack wants to kiss him back, needs it, but he can do little more than leave fervid little moans against his tongue, joined by the spit-slick sound of Connor’s hand, warm and tight around them.

“I’m—s-sorry, Connor,” Jack fusses when the tightness in his belly finds the next gear, and for all his warnings, Connor is doing nothing to help him make less noise when he leans down to suckle at the side of his neck.

“Come on, baby, you’re almost there. Say it again,” he whispers warmly into his shirt collar. The rumble of him speaks to control, all whiskey and smoke, but Jack can feel how the rhythm of his forearm waivers, how the leg he has threaded under Jack’s begins to shake.

“C-Connor, get something to—Connor—”

Jack’s eyes throw themselves open on a gasp when he wakes, startled from the dream by the warm wetness seeping into the front of his underwear. He tries to sit up as best he can but his stomach quivers, heart thumping, as wave after wave of pleasant ache widens the stain on his sleep pants and steals his breath.

“For fucks sake,” he sighs, letting his body flop back to the bed when the feeling in his hands returns.

Awareness follows right behind his mess, and he flips the blanket away to hopefully spare himself the further embarrassment of taking the damned thing to the laundromat. But, even that was better than doing a spot wash in the sink, and having to tell Connor it was an Italian food incident when he sees it draped over the railing to dry.

First his waking hours, now his dreams. Connor filled his mind with thoughts of normalcy, the lingering ache of loneliness, and the insane idea of enjoying another person’s company. Such a luxury eluded him most days, a comfort he hardly believed could be found in these ominous woods.

Between distracting daydreams, some salacious, some sweet, and his immersion in his work, he almost forgot to be afraid.

~*~

The days that follow are easy but hardly quiet, not with Jack’s brain torn and oscillating between the paranoia of the encroaching forest—and his growing crush on his neighbor. His heart struggled under the stress of peering over his shoulder in the dark woods at every broken twig, just to be riled again by his nightly check-in. He began to sympathize with the rabbit his sister had when they were kids, perfectly still for all their fervent affection, until their veterinarian explained it’s early health problems were stress-related: poor creature was unable to distinguish their childish, heavy-handed petting from the musings of a predator biding it’s time to feast.

People had already disappeared. How long did he have until he was eaten too? Swallowed by the woods until all that remained were the tenets of skeptics and a ghostly whistle.

He busied himself with maintaining the tower, hammering down loose boards and checking the horizon repeatedly until the sun was long gone and the eerie quiet had settled it’s blanket across the forest.

“24.4 knots…” He murmured to fill the silence, as a flare lights up the north. Before he can go for his binoculars, the radio flicks on with an unfamiliar man’s voice.

‘Hello? Is anyone there?’

“This is Tower 11.”

‘Oh! Oh, thank god.’ The voice, a young man, shaking and unsure, comes over the line. ‘I’m lost and—I’m really starting to freak out.’

“Take a deep breath,” said Jack, his free hand opening the trail map on his computer. “Can you tell me where you are?”

‘I don’t even know where to start. I went out exploring and lost track of time. Everything looks different at night. The uh, the last trail marker I saw was by a stream, but I couldn’t read it from where I was. I’m walking west because I remember walking east to get here but… I’m definitely lost.’

“What equipment do you have?”

The hiker ignored his question, excited to finally be somewhere familiar. ‘Oh, man. I found the fork in the trail. But, I don’t remember if I’m supposed to go right or left to get back to the trail-head.’

“I have a map, let me take a look.”

‘Thank you.’ He says, but only lets Jack look for a few seconds before trying again. ‘Hello? Are you still there?’

“One more second, it’s all right.”

‘Oh. Oh, I see you!’

Jack looks to the radio, shocked to silence while phantoms of a predator’s fingers slip up the back of his neck, loosing shivers in his warm tower.

“What? What do you see?”

‘I hear you. You’re whistling to me. I’m right here!’ The hiker shouts, surely waving his hands above his head to welcome the unknown danger, and Jack’s thumb nearly cracks the receiver.

“Hey, HEY! That’s not me, I’m—”

‘What do you mean? You’re starting to freak me out—’ The transmission ends early, no crackling, no screams. Only silence, save for Jack’s breathing, his pounding heart.

Fuck.

He shoves the desk chair away, jumping up to grab his flashlight, and was two hastened footsteps from the door when a knock startles him almost to shout. Whatever possessed him to wrench open the door without a second thought, he hoped a well-aimed flashlight is enough to take them down.

“The hell are you doing in there? I’ve been out here knocking for awhile.”

His heart jerks, relieved, having never thought Billy would be the cause. “S-sorry. Was helping a lost hiker.”

“At this hour? Lord have mercy,” he drawled, his perpetually rumpled mustache shifting across his troubled frown. “Anyway—here’s your supplies. Just the essentials.”

“Thanks.” Jack turned away to set the box on the counter, when Billy spoke again. “I hear you been a little stressed lately. Everything all right?”

He never considered himself a liar, but Jack liked to think he knew how to pretend well enough to avoid suspicion about most things. Especially in regards to his own well-being. The smile that slips over his face is practiced, appropriately tired for the time of night. “It’s taken me a little longer to adjust to the new environment than I thought, but I’m getting there. Thanks for asking.”

Address the question logically, formulate a response from a half-truth. Acknowledge their concern. Easy.

Billy is so willing to not push the subject, it’s almost too easy. “That’s the spirit. Well, I won’t keep you. Get some sleep, Jack. Don’t forget to submit your report.”

He leaves as fast as he can without falling down the stairs, and Jack is happy to clap the door shut behind him. In the back of his mind, routine called to him, rubbing on his shoulders and offering him a cigarette after an exhausting day.

“Firewood, dinner, Connor in bed—THEN bed. Firewood, dinner, talk to Connor, respectfully, professionally, finish my report. Then bed.” He waved the flashlight back and forth anxiously as he wandered down the stairs, single-handedly determined to not have anything scary happen for the rest of the night.

If only he hadn’t gone for firewood.

The pile in the shack isn’t dwindling as fast as he anticipated with the weather warming up, and he makes a mental note to skip chopping more wood tomorrow. He balances the wood under one arm, flashlight tottering in the other as he leaves the shack—straight into another man.

“AH—damn! You nearly gave me a heart attack,” he pants when the bald man in clean coveralls doesn’t immediately move to disembowel him.

“No need to be afraid, son… I’m a worker, here for some routine maintenance on the radio tower over there.” The man’s flat, almost drowsy cadence is anything but comforting, too close to Jack’s liking of what he imagined a wax figure or mannequin to sound like, speaking slowly and quietly to not arouse suspicion of their sentience.

“Thought I would say hi to the new guy everyone’s been talking about.”

“… What’s your name?” Jack said as his hands flexed on the firewood, itching to run.

“Names can be deceiving. Call me Silas.”

“Do you always work so late?”

“Every Sunday.” A strange thing to admit, rather than lie about being up on the mountain so late for something so menial. “Just trying to keep the communication lines open. We must ensure the right messages meet the right people, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Right,” Jack said without hesitation, though he doubted he and Silas were talking with the same subject in mind.

“Absolutely. You watch for fires, but some fires are meant to burn. And no amount of prevention can stop them.”

His fingernails ache from holding the firewood throughout their conversation, and he can feel his heart beginning to thump against his ribs. “… It’s late. I should be going back. Goodnight, Silas.”

“Nature has plans,” he called after him, the intonation of his voice carrying without having to shout: an orator’s calm, suffocating inflection. “Ones even you can’t control. It will be cleansed.”

Upstairs, Jack shoved the firewood into the stove, both to relieve his stinging arms and to burn away the creeping dread that prickles at the back of his skull. Something is wrong with these woods, wrong with the people, from the supervisor who seems to have had his tongue stapled to the roof of his mouth, to the radio repairmen who spouted doctrine with the affect of a puppeteered corpse.

When had the woods he found such comfort in become so grim, promising only death to those who didn’t know when to run?

‘I can see the smoke coming from your tower. Don’t tell me you’re not in there?’ Connor’s voice, unbothered and probably craving his evening small talk, laid a calm over the quickly warming cabin.

‘Jack? Come in, new guy.’

“Here, Connor.” He lowered himself into the metal chair, pulling his jacket over chilled fingers.

‘Finally. Where you been?’ If Jack concentrated hard enough, perhaps he could sponge his blissful ignorance, or at least pretend to take refuge in the wrap of his arms. He couldn’t remember the last time he hugged anyone besides his sister, and most recently was still months before he left for the middle of nowhere.

“I went downstairs for some firewood and ran into Silas.”

‘Who?’ He says, half-muffled like he’s sat at the radio with his dinner.

“The guy who maintains the radio tower. Creepy as hell, spoke in riddles—I don’t think I actually saw him blink.”

The silence over the channel lasts long enough Jack reaches to flip the receiver on and off, hands skimming the metal casing for any sign the call had been disconnected, then Connor scoffs with some one-sided realization.

‘Is this about the other night? Tryin’ to yank my chain?’

Jack has to bite down on his lip next to bleeding to not fire back “I am not nearly funny enough to yank anyone’s chain, and if I was going to pull on anything of yours it would be your—”

‘That radio tower’s been out of service for ages now.’

His heart drops into his stomach. When he doesn’t answer, Connor continues to explain as if Jack wasn’t reeling, two seconds from puking into the receiver. ‘It was closed down right after I got here because a lightning strike fried it’s systems. Mitch said he would get it fixed next time there was room in the budget, but—well, you know how that’s going.’

“Then who did I just talk to?!” Jack shouts, too frightened to be embarrassed for his volume, and only hoping it didn’t hurt Connor’s ears or break their speaker.

‘Easy, Jack,’ replies Connor, too cool for the pounding in his ears. ‘Hey, you’re okay. Listen to me. This isn’t our first run-in with pranksters, is it? They got you again, but that’s all they can do. They’re not gonna hurt you.’

“He called me Jack.”

‘He knew your name? Do you think he’s been listening?’

“I don’t know, maybe?” He ran his hands through his hair, hoping to dispel some of the compounding anxiety of an imminent death.

‘Either way, we need to report this. Next time you see him, get a photo or his ID and anything else we can use to identify him. We’ll figure it out, Jack. Don’t worry.’

“Thanks, Connor.” His hands scrub down his face, he can not keep up this pace of being frightened and then having to convince himself nothing’s wrong just to keep from running into the woods and not stopping until he sees the road.

‘Call me if you have a nightmare, all right? I’ll put you back to sleep.’

“You asshole.” He can’t help the chuckle that sputters from his suddenly warm chest, hearing Connor’s smile through his cheeky tone.

‘Got you to laugh, didn’t I?’

Jack’s face is hot, he knows he’s blushing hard, and he summons the strength to not say anything too embarrassing (like “come over”) with a shuddering sigh. “Goodnight, Connor. Thank you… for everything.”

‘So sentimental. I like that. Night, Jack.’

The line clicks closed before Jack can chase him through the line, demanding to know what he meant, why his voice had to drop into the register that made his stomach flutter before disappearing from the face of his very, very small world. His suffering sigh rattles from his chest.

“I need to go to sleep.”

2 DAYS LATER

If it rains any more, his tower might flood.

All day, all evening, Jack had spent the majority of the day watching the shower soak the forest, ignoring the chores he tended to avoid anyway, and drinking far too much instant coffee because it was his only alternative to water. Although, he did get the spray duster out from under the counter, just to say he did.

“Maybe I’ll ask Billy to put some teabags in my next resupply,” he said, pouring out the last of his cup into the sink and picking up his cigarettes to take with him outside.

The forest below should look half-drowned after drinking all day, but it only sways elegantly in the gentle wind, not strong enough to push rainwater over the railing where it might disturb his smoke break. Tower 12 stands in the distance over the treeline, the soft, golden lights in the window suggesting Connor was taking a lazy day too.

Was he reading a well-loved, dog-eared novel? Cooking something warm and spicy? Maybe he fell asleep, belly full of warm food and blanket curled around his legs as the novel slips forgotten to the floor. Down into a deep sleep, the kind of rest what leaves him too warm when he wakes, hair rumpled and shirt risen over his middle to bear birthmarks or a secret tattoo.

“Jack, come back to bed.”

“Ah,” he grunted, sudden static from the radio ripping him out of his daydream. He presses out his cigarette, kicking over the ash tray as he hurries to his feet.

“This is Tower 11.” Silently, he congratulated himself for sounding perfectly professional and not guilty in the slightest.

‘This—does it—damn.’ Connor’s voice over the radio is smothered with screeching electronic snow, laced with intermittent words of increasing urgency.

‘Can’t—need h—Jack—can you hear—’

He whipped around to the window. The lights of Tower 12 hadn’t dimmed, but the persistent static and ominous, disconnected message chilled his blood. He gave no further thought to logical explanations, common sense could hike up the mountain with him if it really cared that much—and ran from the tower without changing his jacket to something waterproof and only his flashlight to protect them.

Above him, the rain pounds down harder, deafening as it pushed through the treeline to soak him, splattering over his trousers with every puddle he stomped across to get to Tower 12 as soon as he was physically capable, or sooner, even if it wounded him.

He reached the bottom of the tower not long after nightfall, expecting to be met with some sign of a struggle, but found nothing. Apart from the generator flashing a yellow warning light and the stack of firewood down nearly to nothing, there was no ripped grass, no gashes in the mud to suggest there had been anything unsavory in the woods that night. He tore up the metal steps anyway, two at a time, not convinced and not bothering to knock before he threw open the door—

And found Connor at the sink, half-dressed, the last dregs of shaving cream on his cheeks in thin stripes, steaming rag in hand.

He just stared at him.

Jack stared back.

“Can I help you?” Connor broke the silence, wiping his face clean and grabbing the henley draped over the back of his chair.

“You’re alive.”

“Jack?” He gaped at him, blonde head popping from his shirt’s neck hole to piece together the voice he knew with the grainy, black and white photo he had glimpsed on the staff directory website.

“Yeah that’s… that’s me.” Jack’s voice muddled down to a tiny murmur as the embarrassment threatened to melt him into two humiliated puddles inside his boots.

He really ran here, never-mind the several miles, ran here in the rain, dragging in water and mud like he was going to self-promote from fire lookout to ghost-buster with just a flashlight and some home-grown, grass-fed nerve. Death would have been kinder, he thought.

“God, you’re soaked. Here.” The towel that flies across the room to slap gently against his face smells like their cheap, provided laundry soap, with a thin vein of cologne, sharp and clean, a smell Jack suspected was baked into most everything fabric Connor owned.

“Sorry about your floor.”

“If I actually cared, I’d make you clean it,” Connor smirked at him, rummaging through his open duffel on the counter to hand over a sweater, boxers, and a pair of sweatpants of the same brand as the ones he wore himself. “Put these on, I’ll hang up your clothes by the stove.”

Jack changed obediently, careful not to spread his mess any further than his little corner by the door, and sheepishly offered his wet clothes for Connor to thread over hangers.

“You’re a mess.”

He thought to protest, finding he could only continue to rub the towel over his hair, a little like a nervous tick. “Feels like it.”

“So. You gonna tell me why you tore across the mountainside and threw yourself into my lap half-drowned?” Connor said as he leaned against the counter, arms—nice arms—focus Jack—crossed over his chest. But, for all his posture and words that spoke to some degree of scolding, he could only find warmth in his gaze, patient enough to hear every word of his reply with grace and an open mind.

“The radio…”

“The radio?” Connor went to flip it on, demonstrate how it crackled and sputtered before coming online, green light ready.

“My generator started giving me crap a couple hours ago, I thought the power surge might have killed it so I tried to call you. You didn’t answer, I thought you just couldn’t hear me.”

The embarrassment releases him in an instant, he’s suddenly back where he had been an hour ago, disoriented and tearing down the trail. “It was terrifying, you sounded like—you weren’t making sense from the words that did get through. I didn’t know if you were being murdered up here and calling for help.”

He scoffs, then turns away from him, towards the window. “Is this about the missing campers again? Because I’m not willing to entertain all of your theories right now, all right—”

“I was worried, Connor. Scared the shit out of me.” His words left him in a rush, hanging between them, the only sound among the hum of the fridge against the wall.

“… You came all the way up here—in a storm—because you were worried?”

Jack couldn’t bear to look up to see the extent of the confusion he heard in his voice. “It’s—just a shower, really. It’ll stop soon and I’ll get out of your way,” he mumbled and rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Weatherman says it’s gonna get bad. You should stay.”

The timber of his voice, softer, almost nervous, had Jack raising his head to meet his eyes.

“I’d like you to stay.” He offered, and the nervousness turned out to be more uncertainty, testing a boundary he wasn’t sure would welcome him on the other side. “I’ll feed you. There’s soup, a couple beers left in my stash. What do you say?”

Jack’s hands tightened in the damp towel, suddenly he struggled to breathe.

“I’d like that.”

Chapter 2 (END)

[pacifichire]

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You should coordinate with the civil construction equipment hire Brisbane professionals to get the best deals regarding the earthmoving equipment hired by you. A construction contractor or project manager is also the right person to get advice on renting and cracking the best deals. As a result, you will not waste your time and money; instead, you will get the best civil construction equipment hire deals with the ideal machines needed for the project.

CONTACT A REPUTED DEALER

A lot of stress can be removed simply by staying in touch with a reputed dealer specialising in offering various earthmoving equipment hire machines. A reliable dealer will guide and prevent you from making mistakes related to civil construction equipment hired in QLD. They will also help you save a lot of money and ensure that you get the best machines for your project within your budget. 

Learn more:

Get the Guidance Needed To Choose Earthmoving Equipment 

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[vermonthire]

Unleashing Efficiency: The Complete Handbook to Bobcat Hire

Bobcat hire is an essential aspect of various industries, offering unparalleled benefits for tasks ranging from construction and landscaping to excavation. The efficiency and versatility of bobcats make them indispensable for completing projects with precision and speed.

Understanding Bobcats

Bobcats, compact construction equipment, have a rich history dating back to the mid-20th century. These machines are known for their agility, power, and adaptability, making them suitable for a wide range of applications. There are different types of bobcats available for hire, including skid-steer loaders and compact track loaders, each designed for specific uses. These machines boast key features such as maneuverability, attachment options, and lifting capabilities, which contribute to their efficiency.

Assessing Your Needs

Before considering bobcat hire East Melbourne, it's crucial to assess the project's requirements. Factors such as the scope of work, site conditions, and budget considerations play a pivotal role in determining the suitability of bobcat hire. By carefully evaluating these aspects, businesses and individuals can make informed decisions about utilising bobcat services for their projects.

Choosing the Right Bobcat Hire Service

Selecting a reputable and reliable bobcat hire East Melbourne service provider is essential for the success of any project. It's crucial to consider factors such as the provider's experience, equipment quality, and customer reviews when making this decision. Additionally, comparing quotes and evaluating the condition of the equipment offered should be part of the selection process.

Safety Precautions and Best Practices

Safety is paramount when it comes to operating or working around bobcats. Emphasizing the importance of following safety protocols and best practices can significantly minimize the risks associated with using these powerful machines. Practical tips, such as proper training for operators and maintaining clear communication on-site, contribute to a safe working environment.

Maximising Efficiency

To maximise the efficiency of bobcat hire Melbourne, it's essential to implement techniques that optimise productivity. This includes utilising the right attachments for specific tasks, ensuring regular maintenance of the machine, and adopting best practices tailored to different applications like grading, trenching, or material handling. By leveraging these techniques, businesses and individuals can enhance their project outcomes.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the guide to bobcat hire East Melbourne provides valuable insights into the importance and benefits of utilising these machines for various projects. By understanding bobcats, assessing needs, choosing the right service provider, prioritizing safety, and optimizing efficiency, businesses and individuals can unlock the full potential of bobcat hire services.

Source: https://vermonthire.wordpress.com/2024/04/04/unleashing-efficiency-the-complete-handbook-to-bobcat-hire/

[planthirebrisbane]

To simplify your construction project, you can rely upon plant hire Brisbane deals offered by this company. They have wet and dry plant hire deals, where you get machines, equipment and vehicles for civil construction, mining and domestic projects. They can help in major infrastructure projects with the help of a consistent and strongly focused team.

[chainsawcorazon]

Hey so I'm interested in writing for bartkon week, but I like doing frankly excessive research on characters before I try writing them...and honestly I don't really want to read all of SB94, impulse and YJ just to get a handle on what I'm doing, that's a lot even for me. I know some general stuff about the both of them, but not to the point where I'm like "Ah yes, I understand the soul of the matter" So I was wondering if there were like any specific arcs or points of characterization that I could read through to get the dynamic right?

shfkjdsfd ngl, I'm the worst person to ask bc my romance with BartKon didn't even start with BartKon....... it started with Clark/Bart from Smallville 😭😭😭 I'm exceptionally weak for Kryptonian/Speedster romances, but whereas Clark/Bart was the gateway, Bart/Kon is where my heart resides. And I don't ship any other Kryptonians with Speedster. Literally just Clart from Smallville and BartKon from the comics. Just giving you context so you don't think I'm some subject matter expert with a phd in BartKononomics ...... I am just a lady in her thirties who has carboard boxes full of sb/imp/yj singles cuz Clart made her Feel Things when she was a kid and she decided to Do Something about it (aka read comics).

BUT TO YOUR QUESTIONS!

If you want a high level overview of the ship, @radioactive-earthshine's KonBart Manifesto is a great place to start. It has the ship's Best Highlights, and really sums up why there is a small but dedicated fanbase to it. Dedicated enough that I broke my near-ten year cold turkey of mainline DC comics because my main man Bendis put BartKon back on the map while I was living my life blissfully unaware that DC had even hired Bendis to begin with and that the Diamond distro monopoly died. I was shocked. Still am. Two things I never thought would happen in my lifetime.

Now to understand the soul of Bart and Kon.... you're gonna have to look at that things that don't really have Bart and Kon on the same page. Part of the reason why BartKon Speaks to Me is because their relationship progression over the year directly ties back to their individual growth as characters.

So reading material 1: In Impulse, Bart starts off as the speedster equivalent of a feral bobcat, but slowly progresses into an empathetic, understanding, and an overall Good Man. Much of his story deals with the harsh realities of simply growing up different. Running theme of Imp fandom is that Mark Waid created and wrote an autist with ADHD without meaning too, and by Allah he sure did. It's fascinating because Bart harbors both grief and rage due to his predicaments, and the adults in his life are incredibly unkind (even if they are well-meaning), so Impulse has always been, in my understanding, the slice-of-life that really helps Bart to come of age into a Man and a Great Hero. You don't have to read the whole series, but if you can read at least the first twenty or so issues, you'll find yourself rooting for the little man and see how he shines in terms of empathy, understanding, love, and dealing with unresolved rage/grief/loss.

Reading material 2: Superboy is a trick and a half because it deals with issues of child neglect, grooming, the allegory of child star exploitation, and so on and so forth. The BartKon implications are There, but the reason why Superboy is incredibly important is because Superboy as a character is more than just his parentage. Contrary to popular belief, Geoff is NOT the main man in this story. Reading even just the first twenty issues of Superboy will show you Kon was failed by most of the adults in his life, and Superman is NOT his villain. Or the root of his daddy issues. Bro didn't even have a name until much later. If you wanna know who Superboy REALLY was before the Geoffian Era, you can read the first twenty odd issues. If you wanna go earlier, you could read his parts in Reign of the Supermen, just to get an understanding as to why he HAD to be the way he was during this time.

Reading material 3: I do not recommend reading all of YJ 98 for the BartKon bc YJ 98 is hijinks fun. It's GREAT reading for absurdist and comical situations, but only really works with context from Impulse and Superboy to get to the BartKon heart of it all. Not to say YJ 98 wouldn't give you the BartKon goodness, it sure does, but the soul doesn't come together if you don't get how Bart evolved in Impulse and how terribly Kon was treated in Superboy. You can read really anything in YJ to have fun with the group, but if you wanna fast track, you can read the last twenty or so issues and Titans/Young Justice Graduation Day.

Reading material 4: The Geoffian era..... I wouldn't wish Teen Titans 2003 on my worse enemy. Funniest thing is that at the time, I was just starting to watch Smallville. In love with Smallville!Bart already, I embarked on my Superboy journey.... had mixed feelings, so I stuck mostly to the 90's content. Ended up reading impulse a decade later, but long story short.... the Geoffian Era set a Tone and Direction for Bart and Kon that never sit well with me. There IS story there, if you are interested in reading about Daddy Issues, Masculine Identity, and a shit ton of other stuff that really pulled Kon away from his roots and made him more of a Emotionally Tortured Super. If that floats your boat, you may enjoy it. You can read a handful of comics from this era. Just know that in the end, he suffers anyway, just in an ugly ass outfit. The only real bit I'd recommend forreal forreal is when he dies. His whole arc in the Geoffian Era really just tells us he doesn't know how to live and thus he... dies. It's sad bc the writers before him despite having tortured Kon relentlessly, never really made him so...... hopeless.

Reading material 5: Flashpoint.... Bart dies, but I personally did not feel much for him because Bart didn't feel like Bart in the end, but yeah, he kicks it. This is where I pretty much kicked DC to the side too, minus the mistake that was reading RHATO. You can read Kid Flash Lost if you'd like.

Do not read New 52.

Reading material 6:.... my main man Bendis. No you do not have to read all of YJ 2019, but BartKon reunion and then Bart's explication as to WHY he found Kon is all you need. Bendis, despite the hate he gets, actually shows that he has great love for the YJ line. BartKon especially. The bald headed demon proves yet again that he care not for the world, only for his faves, which I'm cool with bc BartKon are me faves.

I know. A lotta reading. Those numbers I gave you.... you can also just read half of what I said kjdhgkhd Googling also helps! I know it's not always feasible to read so many comics, and I'mma be real, the Tone for many may not entice you either. Impulse feels like a slice-of-life to me, but YJ's an absurd shounen, and Superboy is the saddest book you'll ever read that is absolutely hilarious when you can accept that 90's writers just Did Not Care. Geoff hates Bart and Kon. New 52 is not real. Bendis actually loves BartKon a LOT, so you can just read their tidbits and find peace in the fact that Bart Allen, the loneliest fucker in existence, found his Kon El, who is the saddest fucker in existence. Something something, I will find you even if God wants us both dead. And God (editorial) did. I don't know how Bendis pulled the shit that he did, but he put a decades old rarepair back on the map after the Geoffian Reign. And Geoff hates Bart and Kon.

Happy Reading/Googling/Researching!!!!