I’ve been camping so many times. Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, New Mexico, Colorado, Minnesota. With friends, in groups, with my husband, with family, by myself. In prairie, in the woods, by lakes, in the mountains. And there’s only been one time that I ever felt truly scared.
My husband Kyle and I, back before we had kids, were in already-remote mountain terrain in Colorado, but we wanted to be more remote than we could get even with a 4-wheel-drive SUV. So we rented an ATV (4-wheeler) and packed for a single night’s camping and drove beyond the designated areas, deep into bear country.
Us being Texans, we were very aware that we were in bear country. We had a can of bear spray. We’d reviewed the dos and don’ts. But still, we were a bit on edge. Something about being away from public campgrounds, away from other folks, away from help should we need it.
We found a cool spot and ate dinner, carefully packaging all wrappers and stuffing them into the storage cubby of the ATV since there were no trash cans–and the last thing we wanted was to put anything scented in our tent with us. We set up our rain fly just in time for a downpour that didn’t look like it’d let up anytime soon. Bit of a bummer, but we weren’t going to make a campfire in an undesignated campsite anyway, so we tucked in early to play cards and then get some extra shuteye.
If you’ve ever slept in a tent in a storm, you know that the sleep is usually sub-optimal. The sound of the rain was loud enough that I felt quite nervous we wouldn’t hear if a bear came sniffing around. It was too early for bed, but we were trapped. It was not a restful night, but hours into it we eventually passed out.
I awoke to a sound.
It was dark. Humidity choked the air. Drips from the tent edges occasionally made their way onto us. I became instantly aware that I’d heard a sound very close to me. Right outside the tent.
I froze, listening.
It came again. Something actually touching our tent. Not even right outside the tent. Inside the rain fly, between the shell and the actual tent, in the narrow triangle of space directly beside me. A thump, movement, more droplets falling. A pictured a large paw swiping it. A bear trying to find its way inside to eat whatever its super-human nose could smell. (Us.)
The peril of that moment, the feeling of immobilized terror, of no good choices–it has surely made its way into my fiction. You can’t distill that feeling of impending death on the page unless you’ve felt flashes of it in real life.
I woke Kyle. We pulled out the canister of bear spray. I was doing mental calculations of how far away the ATV was parked, how fast we could get out the other side of the tent and run to it, if a bear could outrun a 4-wheeler…
Kyle started talking loudly, which is what you’re supposed to do with bears. A big, calm voice telling it we weren’t tasty. The pawing at the tent side paused, then resumed. Maybe more urgent. Thumping swipes inside the rain fly.
Of course by this point I was scooted as far from the warm body thumping into the mesh side of the tent as I could get, but it definitely made contact. Kyle found his head lamp and turned it on. I searched for the big, clawed paw. I searched for a snuffling snout.
Something jumped at me. I, in true Annie fashion, squeaked in terror.
It jumped again, and again, and again. Frantic. Eyes glowing in the flashlight. A living ball of panic flinging itself against the mesh that it couldn’t see, like an invisible wall.
A bunny.
It took us a hilarious while to get it out of the rain fly. It just kept hopping into the tent wall, trying to break through. I didn’t want Kyle to unzip the tent because I was worried the rabbit would hop in with us and we’d never get it out, but he did stick an arm out and shine his light through the gap under the rain fly edge to show it where it could get out, and that eventually worked.
So, my first wild bear encounter turned out to be a bunny, but not all camping encounters end quite so charmingly. In fact, sometimes when you’re out in the wilderness, you cross paths with things far stranger and more sinister than a bear…
The Other
It’s not a sequel. It’s next in the sequence…
A couple meet their doppelgangers on a hiking trail while camping and are soon tested on how well they truly know the other.
The second novella in The Outsiders Sequence, following The Extra.
Out now from Shortwave Publishing. Where to buy:
• Shortwave Direct Shop • Next Chapter Booksellers • Amazon • Audible • Barnes & Noble • Books-A-Million • BookShop.org • Hudson Booksellers • IndieBound • Simon & Schuster • Target • Walmart •
“Annie Neugebauer’s The Extra ranks as one of the most clever and frightening horror novellas in recent memory, but that was only the beginning. This June, Neugebauer returns with the next book in what’s been dubbed “The Outsiders Sequence.” This time, Neugebauer’s strange world of doppelgangers and mimics turns to a couple on a hike who run into their exact duplicates, setting off a chain of events that will test their understanding of each other in terrifying ways. Neugebauer’s one of horror’s finest rising stars right now, so if you haven’t jumped on board The Outsiders Sequence yet, pick up The Extra and get ready for The Other.” —Bloody Disgusting
Early reviews agree that if you liked The Extra, you’ll love The Other. Set in the same uncanny universe, but with a new story that stands on its own, readers of Book 1 and newcomers to The Sequence alike are raving.
“The Other is, for the second time in a row, an A-star-star concept from Neugebauer, executed absolutely ruthlessly. An airless novella that raised my heartbeat so high that I considered the two hours I spent slumped in bed with it my exercise for the day- there is no reason why you shouldn’t be picking this one up if you’re looking for a quick, vicious hit of horror.
It’s a single-sitting, no-messing nightmare that is proficient in eliciting almost every sub-category of horror- anxiety, unease, terror. This is lean and vicious and comes enthusiastically recommended (along with its predecessor) by yours truly- although under no circumstances is it to be read in a tent.” —FanFiAddict
For those of you who like to listen to your books, you’ll be delighted to know that narrator of the audiobook for The Extra, Sean Patrick Hopkins, has returned for The Other with Patricia Santomasso, and they knock it out of the park. Just absolutely phenomenal actors who bring relatability, tension, and nuance to the characters. I highly recommend grabbing an audio copy.
“Neugebauer doesn’t need monsters when she has mirrors. The Other burrows into the terrifying possibility that selfhood might not be as fixed as we believe.
Neugebauer’s prose is clean and controlled, as always. She is just a master, allowing the strangeness of the situation to take center stage without unnecessary embellishment. She trusts the reader to sit with ambiguity, and that trust pays off.” —Ginger Nuts of Horror
The reception of Book 2 so far has been sort of breathtaking to me. I never intended to be the author of anyone’s favorite series with my third book ever published, but here we are, and I could not be more honored or more delighted to be the one freaking you out. Thank you so much to all of the readers who’ve been spreading the word about this sequence. These novellas are the little novellas that could, and any success they find has been thanks to the folks who champion them.
“Annie Neugebauer takes the doppelganger possibility to an entirely new level in The Other where it becomes far more terrifying than just finding someone who resembles you.
The Other by Annie Neugebauer is a quick, eerie and unsettling read that sneaks up on you in the best way possible. The story blends psychological tension with shocking twists and turns that you won’t see coming. I am eagerly awaiting The Spare which is on the horizon.” —Capes and Tights
The Other is out now. Grab a copy or two, settle in somewhere *safe and solitary, and enjoy.
