Billy: A Tale Of Unrelenting Terror (15 page)

"We better get back in da boat," he said. "We wastin’ time just standing around."

Nick wasn’t about to argue and happily complied with Cap’n’s order. Kenny untied the boat, and they drifted back to where the others sat waiting for them.

"See anything?" asked Joe.

"Somet’ing was dere," answered Cap’n. "Left some fresh tracks in da mud. Not sure what it was, but have an idea it might be what we after."

"Eeeeeeeaaaaaagggghhhhh!"

The crew jumped at the unexpected, terrifying shriek.

"
Cho! Co
!" Kenny exclaimed. "What the fuck was that?"

"It sounded like it coming from over there," Henry stated, pointing to an area just beyond sight down the
bayou
.

"Let’s go," Guidry stated.

The men fired up the engines and cruised down the narrow waterway in the direction of the terrible roar. They had their guns out and ready to fire at whatever they encountered, but no one saw a thing. After a little while, they were forced to cut the engines and stop the boats, their way blocked once again by an overgrowth of vegetation.

"
Voila merde
!" cursed Henry. "Not again."

"Detective," Joe said, "you see dat?"

Nick saw. Everyone saw. The circles of green lilies jetting up out of the water in front of them were covered with patches of sticky, red liquid – blood – most likely Frank, Jr.’s blood.

"
Fils de pute
! Son of a bitch!" Kirk stated before spitting a huge glob of tobacco laden saliva over the side of the boat.

"
Coo-wee
! Over dere!" Dennis exclaimed, pointing toward the moss covered trees up ahead.

The men looked up, only to see an empty space amongst the shadows.

"There’s nothing there,
Skinny Mullet
," Henry said.

"Dere was something dere a minute ago. I saw it," protested Dennis.

"What did you see?" asked Joe.

"I saw….I don’t know," answered Dennis.

"You don’t know what you saw?" asked Henry.

"It don’t matter what I saw. I saw somet’ing. It was dere. It’s still here, somewhere," Dennis replied.

"And how you know dat?" Joe asked.

"’Cause it’s quiet, too quiet," Dennis said. "Just like back at dat house. Dere’s somet’ing out here dat don’t belong. You all know what I’m talkin’ about, even if ya don’t wanna say it."

"
Tuat t’en grosse bueche
! Shut your big mouth,
couyon
!" Cap’n said. "Dis ain’t no time for children stories. Henry, y’all go have a look see, and be careful. We stay out here dis time, but no worries, anything come creepin’ gonna get blasted real quick."

Henry guided his boat up to the spot where Dennis indicated. Kirk dropped the anchor over the side and followed Joe onto the stretch of dirt under the trees. Henry and Dennis stayed in the boat and kept watch. After a few minutes, the two men returned and they made their way back to where the others waited.

"See anyt’ing?" Cap’n Guidry asked.

"Just some gator tracks," Joe said.

"Dat’s bullshit," interrupted Dennis. "It ain’t no gator I saw. Gators don’t stand up when dey walk."

Before Joseph could reply, Kirk chimed in, "I hate to say it, but Dennis is right. Dem tracks weren’t made by no gator."

"How you know that?" Kenny asked.

"’Cause ain’t no gator I ever seen got six toes," replied Kirk.

Cap’n Guidry looked at Nick.

"You know some t’ing, dontcha, Detective?" Guidry asked. "I t’ink it’s time you told us what was in dat attic."

Chapter Twenty-Two

Qui C’est q’ Ca?

N
ick took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts for a moment before speaking. He didn’t want to tell the others what he was thinking. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what his thoughts were anymore.

There was one thing he knew, he didn’t want to spook the rest of the crew into abandoning the mission. It was bad enough Frank, Jr. had disappeared. There was no way they were going to just let that go. But Nick had been sent out there to find the kids missing from the search party, and he had every intention of seeing it through, Frank or no Frank, monster or no monster. Nick knew if he showed back up empty handed, he would be looking for a new job, a new place to live, and a new girlfriend. He hadn’t come this far to give up now.

"The only thing up in that attic was Poppie St. Pierre’s rotting corpse," Nick said at last.

"Da only t’ing?" Dennis asked. "I find dat hard to believe."

"Believe what you want, it’s the truth," Nick said firmly.

"We seen tracks just like y’all seen," Cap’n Guidry stated. "Six toes on each. See any t’ing like dat up in dat attic, Detective?"

"Yeah, maybe," Nick said. "It was hard to tell. The body wasn’t in the best of shape."

"The ones downstairs probably drowned, I’d say. Don’t even want to guess how the one in the back got there," said Henry. "What happened to the one in the attic?"

"No telling," Nick answered. "Like I said, the body wasn’t in the best of shape."

"I’m guessing he didn’t drown, d’oh," Cap’n said. "Ain’t dat right, Detective?"

"No, I’m guessing he didn’t drown," answered Nick.

"You seen any t’ing else up dere dat might explain dis?" asked Guidry.

"There were some chains."

"Chains?" asked Joe. "Why was dere chains? What was in dem?"

"Nothing," answered Nick. "At least, not anymore."

"
Ga-lee
! Dem stories be true!" Dennis said. "We best get out of here whilst we can; it gonna be dark soon."

"We ain’t goin’ no wheres!" Cap’n said. "Not without Frank."

"I hate to say it, Cap’n, but you know as well as the rest of us, Frank is gone," Henry said.

"
Pic kee toi
! Fuck you!" Guidry said between clenched teeth. He lowered his gun, tightening his grip on the firearm, and said to everyone present, "We ain’t leavin’ my boy out here. We gonna find him and we gonna kill dat t’ing dat took him. Any of you got a problem with dat, you gonna have a problem with me."

No one said a word. The Swamp Rats averted their eyes from Cap’n’s angry glare and situated themselves to continue the search. Nick looked down at the body bags at his feet and shuddered – ‘just in case’ indeed. Now wasn’t the time to remind everyone of what they were here for, what they were getting paid to do. Instead, he kept his mouth shut, opened his eyes and looked toward the horizon, and hoped against hope that things would start looking up.

The afternoon wore on, and the light began to dim as the sky became covered with dark clouds. After awhile, it began to drizzle. Everyone thought it would be a good idea to head in and try to find some shelter before the sun set and the weather got rougher – everyone but Cap’n Guidry. He just sat stoically in the back of the boat, one hand on the rudder and the other one clutching his shotgun. The Swamp Rats resigned themselves to their unwelcome fate. The only place they were heading was further into the swamp.

"Cap’n," said Kenny as they glided past a thick grove of cypress trees, "there’s some markings on the trees."

The crew inspected the vegetation as they passed and saw what Kenny was referring to. Scratched onto the trees at various places, they could see sharp claw marks indented into the bark.

"Just like a bear makes," Nick said.

"’Cept that wasn’t no bear dat made dose," Dennis said.

"Dumb beast fucked up," Cap’n stated. "Now we know where he’s headed."

It was difficult, if not impossible, to track an animal through the swamp, even for those as experienced as the Swamp Rats. Land was scarce and only rose above the surface of the water in patches sporadically. The water was dark and thick with sediment and teeming with snakes and other unsavory creatures. Mosquitoes and flies swarmed everywhere, sucking the blood of their victims indiscriminately and spreading disease. Spiders, snakes, and worse lurked seen and unseen within striking distance at all times. The oppressive heat smothered the group, causing sweat to soak into their clothes, the sticky residue acting like glue for the putrid aroma of male body odor mixed with rotting vegetation and stagnant water.

Without clearly discernible landmarks and with the meandering
bayous
that became impassable at regular intervals, it was all one could do not to get lost. The crew was now so far into the swamp, they were now in uncharted territory. With the steady drizzle that only threatened to get worse and the few hours of daylight quickly fading, the desperation of the men was increasing by the minute. When it looked like all hope of finding their way was lost, they came across the markings. Now, all they had to do was let the beast’s own mistake be his downfall. Things were beginning to look up.

The crew drifted carefully through the swamp, navigating the narrow streams and
bayous
while keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings and their fingers on the triggers of their guns. When it seemed as though the sky was going to dump a torrent of precipitation on the men, the rain suddenly abated. A bright flash of sunlight lit up the swamp, shining down through the leaves and Spanish moss overhead and giving everything around them a warm glow. A slight breeze broke through the oppressive, stagnant air. An unspoken sense of relief was felt amongst the crew, and everyone began to breathe a little easier for the first time since they came across the creepy shack hidden amongst the trees. After a few pleasant moments, as if on cue, the men became aware of the deathly silence that engulfed their environment. Before a word could be spoken, a familiar, but terrifying, roar broke the silence.

"Eeeeeeaaaaaaagggghhhhhh!"

"
Merde
’!" Dennis shouted. "Dat t’ing scares da shit out of me every time."

"It came from back dere," Joe said, pointing to a patch of overgrown swamp grass.

"We got it now," said Cap’n. "Henry, y’all go ‘round toward da right. Go quiet now, nice and easy. We gonna go down dat way to da left. We gonna make a bit of noise to distract it some. When da time comes, everyone blast away. Just remember to aim low; we don’t wanna catch each other in da crossfire. Ain’t no hospitals out here. Any of us do somethin’ stupid and get shot, we’ll be using one of dese bags Nick brought along."

The men sprung into action. Hunting came naturally to the Swamp Rats, as they’d done it successfully since they were young children. At last, the tables were turned. They had the creature cornered, out-numbered, and grossly out-armed. It was time for justice; it was time for vengeance.

Before long, the boats were in position. Cap’n Guidry suddenly hollered out, causing Nick to almost drop his Glock overboard. Gunfire erupted, breaking the unholy silence of the swamp with a relenting explosion of artificial thunder. After what seemed like an eternity, the firing stopped.

Smoke filled the air and the small patch of vegetation looked like it had been chewed up and spit out by an industrial turbine of monumental proportions. The men looked on, not knowing what to expect. Nothing stirred amongst the shredded swamp grass on the small mound of mud. The men cautiously approached, each boat from opposite sides, until they were upon the site of the carnage.

"I don’t see nothin’," Dennis said.

"There’s nothin’ here," agreed Kenny.

"Wait. There’s blood," Nick said, pointing to a small area barely visible below the surface of the water.

Joe reached over with a long, metal pole, and hooked onto a batch of unrecognizable flesh, pulling it to the side of the boat. He reached down and turned the floating object over as the crew looked on in horror. A disfigured face became distinguishable amongst the torn flesh and blood bobbing up and down in the filthy water.

"Frank," muttered Joe.

"
Oo ye yi
!" shouted Cap’n Guidry, tears filling his eyes. "My boy! What you done to my boy,
feet pue tan
! You goddamned son of a bitch!"

A loud clap of thunder erupted overhead, and rain came crashing down upon the mournful group. The sky darkened from the sudden cloud cover, and they all knew what was left of the sun was rapidly sinking beyond the horizon. Soon, night would be upon them, and they’d be forced to face down the beast in the dark. The feelings of sadness, anger, and desperation enveloped the men as they became drenched in the downpour and the boats began to fill with rainwater.

"Eeeeeeeaaaaaagghhhh!"    

The unwelcome roar called to the crew from a distance even further into the swamp. It struck into the hearts of the men, hitting each where they hurt the most. Cap’n Guidry felt what was left of his heart split into shards of broken glass, ripping into his soul and filling him with loss and hatred. To the rest of the Swamp Rats, their chests beat wildly with fear and dread. The nightmares of their childhood came bursting to the surface, filling their distraught minds with visions of big teeth and sharp claws.

"Eeeeeeeaaaaaaagggghhhh!"

To Nick, the sound left a feeling indescribable. He remembered the outlandish story he heard from the crazy girl in the insane asylum. A story too ridiculous to be true. Memories of monsters smiling with flesh-covered fangs.

"Eeeeeeeaaaaaagggghhhhh!"

"Almost sounds like it’s laughing at us," Nick mumbled under his breath before catching himself. He turned around to see if Guidry had heard his unfortunate remark, and saw the old man’s face filled with determination and hatred. Nick shuddered and turned away. There was no image of any swamp creature that was as filled with terror and impending doom as the one on the man behind him. He glanced over to see Dennis looking at him from the next boat.

"Qui c’est q ‘ca?" he asked, his voice broken with fear. "What is dat t’ing?"

Chapter Twenty-Three

Hopeless

A
s the last of that fateful day’s light faded, the crew pulled the battered remains of Frank Guidry, Jr. into the boat and zipped him up in one of the sturdy black body bags. He had been ripped apart by sharp claws and further ravaged by vile insects while submerged in the filthy swamp water. Everyone was grateful that Sheriff Galliano’s office provided the airtight bags. Frank’s remains were getting ripe in the hot and humid environment and toxic for his neighbors in the boat.