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Authors: Hunter Shea

Tags: #Horror, #Fiction

Swamp Monster Massacre (6 page)

BOOK: Swamp Monster Massacre
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“What the heck is cryptozoology?” one of the pretty blonde girls asked.
 

“It’s the study of animals that have yet to be discovered. Most people call them monsters, like the kinds of things you hear about in myths and legends,” the middle-aged man answered. Now all eyes were on him. “I like to watch those crazy shows on the History Channel. Name’s John, by the way, and this is my wife, Carol. Since we’re all going to be together for the foreseeable future, probably makes sense to know each other’s names.” He pulled his wife closer to him, and she gave a weak hello.
 

The guy with the gun raised his hand. “Before this turns into an AA meeting, I’d like to let Jack here finish what he was saying. Now, you said you knew what that was. Spill it.”

Jack’s heart palpitated when he looked into the man’s hard, cold eyes. A torrent of sweat seeped from every pore. Incompetent marketing managers he could deal with. This guy was way out of his league.
 

“Well, from what I could see, combined with that terrible odor, I think what we just saw was a skunk ape.”

The Italian kid’s friend, who had been quiet and looking down until now, shouted, “You think we’re gonna believe my best friend just got taken by a fucking smelly ape?” He grabbed Jack by the front of his shirt and shook him. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kick your ass.”

The barrel of the pistol slowly descended between them.
 

“Is this one?”

The pilot took off his hat and rubbed his bandaged head. “Shit, I’ve heard of skunk apes, but I thought that was just a load of crap. Far as I knew, it was just a story to scare kids from going into the woods and swamps at night.”

“So this thing that dragged that kid off and dodged my bullet is part skunk and part ape? That just doesn’t sound possible.”

Jack shook his head. “The name is misleading. It actually has nothing to do with skunks
or
apes. The skunk part comes because of that awful stench. I suspect being a large biped in this kind of climate would lead to a certain degree of, well, stink. The term skunk ape is just a localized version of a much more well-known creature. I’m sure you’ve all heard of Bigfoot?”

There were a few nods, but most looked at him like he had sprouted fairy wings and a golden horn from his forehead. He patted his messenger bag.
 

“I’d show you more about skunk apes and Bigfoot on my laptop, but something tells me I’m not going to get a Wi-Fi connection out here. There’s this podcast called the Paranormal Podcast. Guy called Jim Harold has interviewed folks about the skunk ape. It’s really fascinating stuff.”

One of the girls turned to the pilot and the thug and asked, “You think it’s related to that?”

Her head turned to an area near the water.
 

“Mind if I see what
it
is?” Jack asked.
 

“Sure. Come with me.” Walking behind her, he could catch the fading odor of her perfume, a welcome relief. One side of her hair had been hacked to hell, but she still made it look good. A mosquito tried to wriggle up his nose, and he almost broke it trying to slap the annoyance away.
 

She turned to him and said, “I’m Maddie. My sister back there is Liz.”

“Nice to meet you, Maddie,” Jack said, then added, “well, as nice as it can be under the circumstances.”

“I’m going to warn you, it’s pretty grisly.”

She fixed him with her gaze and he straightened as best he could. He’d seen that look countless times before. Just because he was small in stature didn’t mean he couldn’t handle the ugly parts of life.
 

“I’ll be fine,” he said, and moved past her.
 

She was right. It
was
grisly. The furry body looked like it had been tossed in a man-sized blender and put through the chop cycle for ten seconds.
 

“You might want this,” Maddie said, handing him the stick the pilot had used before.
 

Jack poked and prodded, not even noticing that everyone else had come down to watch. Everyone but the Italian kid.
 

It smelled rancid. Blood-soaked hair covered every square inch of it. Definitely looked like a pair of legs, and there was a fleshy area that could have been a hand.
 

He gave a start when he turned and saw the group was just inches from his back.
 

“If I saw this alone, I wouldn’t try to attempt to classify it, but, when you add in what just happened, I’d definitely say it looks, and smells, like a skunk ape. A young one at that.”

Maddie’s sister, Liz, moved in closer.
 

“Are you saying we ran over a Bigfoot baby?” she said, bending at her knees to get as near as she could without getting into the tainted water.
 

The pilot looked back at where the kid had been taken. “If that’s true, then we have one pissed-off momma Bigfoot on our hands.”

 

“Skunk ape or Bigfoot or not, we can’t stay here and wait for it to come back,” Rooster said. “Before you all attacked me and sent this boat to shitsville, I was fixing to get to my father’s safe house. Last I remember, he had a ham radio and crank generator, and usually canned food and water. The food and water are probably spoiled by now, but the radio is the key. I’d guess it’s about another five miles north of here, which ain’t gonna be easy to navigate on foot.”

He left out how unsafe it would be, seeing as they were flipped out enough. Folks had been hiding out in the Glades for centuries. It was still one of the best places on the planet to up and disappear into. Even if they didn’t find his father’s rickety old cabin, they might come across another. Hopefully it would be one without a hostile hermit in residence with a penchant for shooting trespassers.
 

“You know how to get there without a boat? It’s not the same as navigating through the water channels,” the pilot said.
 

Rooster asked, “What do they call you, Mac?”

“Mick. It’s short for Michael.”

Putting a hand on the pilot’s bulky shoulder, Rooster said, “It’s either that, or sit here like a corn dog on a dinner plate. I’ve got a pretty good sense of direction, and I’d like to get our asses moving before nightfall, while I still have the sun to help me with my direction.” He unzipped the duffel bag of guns and showed the contents to everyone. “Now, I’m not saying you have to come with me. To be honest with you, I’m sorry I got you stuck out here, but I can’t take all the blame.” He took a moment to look them each in the eye. “All I
can
do is try to get us somewhere safe. Seeing as none of us are in any kind of shape to go
mano a mano
with a swamp ape…”


Skunk
ape,” Jack interrupted, looking immediately regretful.

“Skunk ape sounds stupid,” Rooster said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m calling it a Bigfoot from now on. Anyway, I have enough pistols in here for everyone. Problem is, I don’t have enough bullets to fill them, but you’ll each have a few shots, should you need ’em.”

They eyed the bag of guns, then him, deciding whether it was a test or not. Sighing, he reached in, grabbed a handful and put one in each of their reluctant hands. Even the upset Italian kid came over to get his piece. When he went to take it, Rooster tightened his grip. He whispered to him, “I know you’re upset about your friend, but something about you tells me I have to add a little word of caution. Trust me when I say, I have far more experience when it comes to firearms, and lifetimes more when it comes down to killing a man. You use this to protect yourself from anything that
ain’t
human and out to get you. Do we understand one another?”

Rooster gently placed it in his palm. The kid hefted it a bit, surprised by its weight. Most people who’d never handled a gun before were.
 

“All I want,” the kid said, “is to get that fucking thing that took Angelo.”

“Which way is it to your father’s house?” John asked, breaking the tension.
 

Rooster pointed in the direction where the Bigfoot had slipped away.
 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” the girl with the half-Mohawk said.
 

All Rooster could do was shake his head. “Afraid not, sister.”

“We’re not your sisters,” the other one said. “We prefer Liz and Maddie.” She made a pinching motion and a phantom pain crept into his arm.
 

“Beg your pardon,” he said sarcastically. For all his bravado, he did not want to get in her grip again.
 

Liz turned to the Italian kid and said, “Hey, maybe Angelo is still alive. At least this way, we have a chance of finding him. Your name’s Dominic, right? I thought I heard your friend say that back on the dock. I’m going with you guys.”

The afternoon sun was making Rooster dizzy. He had to get them moving fast.
 

“Show of hands, who wants to stay here?”

To his surprise, none went up, but there was serious doubt in a lot of eyes.
 

Mick said, “We’re sitting ducks out here, and where there’s shelter, there’s safety.”

Carol said, “We could light a fire and wait for a rescue party to find us.”

“Everything around us is soaked. I doubt you’d be able to start a fire with a can of kerosene out here,” Maddie said.
 

Everyone gave a start when a high-pitched howl echoed across the swamp. It didn’t sound exactly like the Bigfoot from before, but it didn’t sound like any other kind of animal either.
 

“I think that pretty much decided it for us,” Jack said.
 

“Smart. Here, everyone load four, five for the ladies, into your gun and pass it around,” Rooster said, tossing the box of bullets to Maddie. She caught it with one hand, loaded the chambers and gave it a spin. Nice.
 

“At least when we get in the trees, we’ll be out of the sun for a bit. The less you sweat, the better off you’ll be. Grab those supplies and let’s go.”

Chapter Eleven

The early going wasn’t easy, what with the razor-sharp sawgrass making mincemeat of their legs. They followed the trail of blood and rank odor of the skunk ape until both evaporated into the cloying atmosphere. Liz hoped that Rooster’s shot had been true and the blood, or at least the majority of it, belonged to the beast.
 

The constant attack of mosquito hordes was getting on Liz’s last nerve. She’d slapped herself silly trying to squish their damned little bodies. It was important to her that they try to find Angelo. Her father had been a Marine, and he always taught her to never leave a man behind, even if you hated his guts. Enemy hands were no place to leave a fallen man. And the skunk ape was most certainly their enemy.
 

“What I wouldn’t do for some bug repellant,” she said, wending her way around a cypress tree.
 

Carol, who was right behind her, said, “I had some in my bag but it got crushed. I wonder how many bites a person can take before they start to have some kind of reaction.” There was heavy concern in her voice.
 

“Guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Jack said. He slipped on a clump of moss and almost took a header.
 

John reached forward to stop him. “You gotta watch yourself, guy.”

Jack’s face flushed red and he continued on, this time with his eyes on the ground.
 

The sound of rapid-fire knocking on a tree froze everyone in their tracks. Liz heard Jack mutter to himself, “Tree knocking is one of the ways they communicate with one another over long distances.”

Mick said, “It’s fine. Just a woodpecker. The things you have to worry about are on the ground. Especially watch out for snakes. Lot of copperheads, rattlers and king snakes in these parts. If you get bit, there’s no saving you.”

“Aren’t you supposed to suck out the poison?” Carol asked.
 

“Only if the person doing the sucking wants to die along with you,” Mick replied, and resumed walking.
 

Liz felt rivers of sweat cascading down into crevices of her body that should not be wading pools. Each inhalation felt like she was sucking fire through a damp cloth. She desperately wanted a drink, but knew it was too soon to dip into their supplies.
 

She heard a splash up ahead, and knew things were about to get worse.
 

 

Rooster came to the end of the line and inspected the water, searching for gator eyes resting on the surface. The next landmass was about hundred yards north, which meant they were going to have to get in the water, where God-only-knew-what could be waiting.
 

Maddie, being less cautious, jumped right in before he could stop her.
 

“Oh, man, that’s refreshing!” she said. “I thought I was going to melt.”

She dipped down to her neck, and when she rose up from the water, her thin shirt had gone translucent, revealing her white bra and a set of very hard, wide nipples underneath that. Rooster swallowed hard. She looked so damn good, he was tempted to jump in and wrap his arm around her waist just so he could feel those puckered points against his chest and hold her, cheek to cheek. Most of the women he’d been around had lived hard lives. Birds of a feather. He’d never been this close to someone like Maddie before. If there was a silver lining to this shit cloud they were under, this was it.
 

BOOK: Swamp Monster Massacre
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