Vicky instantly looked as if she regretted asking.
Ethan gave a small, apologetic shrug.
The saw was on the move again, sounding as if it was heading back the way it’d came.
“He’s coming back,” Noah said. “He’s coming ’round back again.”
“Then we need to move now,” Ethan said. He began huddling everyone together, nudging them out of the room and towards the front door.
Ida and Tucker never stirred.
They were all at the front door, the sound of the saw distant now. It was time.
“Everyone ready?” Ethan asked.
They all nodded.
Ethan gripped the doorknob. “Once I open this door, we all head for that bridge. Move like your butt’s on fire. Noah? Liz? You take lead. Mrs. Burk? Your husband and I will mind you, keep you moving on account of your knee. Once we hit the shoreline, we take hands, and none of us lets go for nothing, you hear?”
They all nodded again, the contrasting emotions of dread and anticipation on each face, the Daigle boys no exception.
“Now,” Ethan said, and ripped open the door.
Liz and Noah sprinted first, as instructed, Ethan and Russ helping Vicky close behind. The chainsaw continued to buzz in the distance as they all eventually hit the bridge as one, their feet pounding the wood as they hurried forward, desperate to reach the wilderness unseen.
A loud, splintering crack like a tree falling froze them. The bridge beneath them jumped, dropping a few inches. They clutched each other’s limbs as they would railings. One final crack and the bridge gave way, all of them plummeting into the river below.
Everyone surfaced with a collective gasp, their faces wide-eyed and stunned, looking freshly slapped.
The sound of the chainsaw grew as Harlon Roy came into view, holding the saw, standing where his bridge no longer began. He killed the motor and looked down on them, floodlights illuminating eyes of a delighted lunatic.
“Looks like you folks had a little mishap,” he said. “Reckon it’s termites?”
Every face stared up at him, no less stunned and gaping than before.
Harlon set the chainsaw aside and pulled a pistol from behind his back. “If y’all had just stayed put, I’d have made it quick—” He grinned and began scratching his head with the barrel of the gun. “Now I’m gonna have me some fun.” He pointed the pistol down at the group and started firing.
Chapter 32
Everyone reacted differently to the gunfire. Ethan and Noah dropped, sinking into the dark, shallow water in an effort to eliminate themselves as targets. Russ dove at Vicky to shield her, tackling her in the process, both of them going under and momentarily eliminating themselves as distinct targets as well.
Liz chose to swim to shore. She’d been a strong swimmer in her youth, and in her panic believed it an undoubtedly quicker method than wading. And it was, though it did little to provide the camouflage submerging had provided the others.
The first two bullets missed, but the third ripped into the meat of Liz’s calf muscle, stopping her instantly, causing her to cry out and clutch at her wounded leg while desperately trying not to go under.
“WINNER!” Harlon yelled with celebration from above.
Ethan and Noah surfaced by the shoreline. Ethan turned when he heard Liz’s cry. He immediately rushed back in, diving when the depth of the river hit his waist, and started towards Liz.
“Well, now look at this gentleman,” Harlon called. “Reckon you save her and she gives up some of that rich pussy, do you, Ethan?”
Russ had been slowly and quietly wading his way towards the shoreline with Vicky under his arm. When he heard, then saw that his daughter had been shot, Vicky insisted he help Ethan and go after her; she would make it to shore on her own. Russ instantly obeyed, spun, and dove back in.
“Two gentlemen!” Harlon said. “You’re not fixin’ to get some of that pussy too, are you, Russ? Hell, that’s just sick!” He laughed and then steadied the gun on Russ as he swam towards Ethan and Liz.
“NO!” Vicky cried from the shoreline.
Harlon lowered the gun and looked over at Vicky. “I was just kidding, Mrs. Burk—damn. I know Russ would never do such a thing.”
Vicky started turning frantically in all directions. “HELP!!! HELP!!!”
Harlon joined in, cupping a hand to his mouth for dramatic effect. “HEEEELLLPPPP!!!”
Vicky stopped instantly and stared up at Harlon.
He grinned back. “Where you think you are, Mrs. Burk?”
Russ had since arrived by Ethan and Liz. Started helping Ethan pull Liz to shore. Harlon aimed the gun on them again.
An unlikely and unintentional savior stopped him.
Ida Roy kicked open the screen door with a bang, her nose and mouth still bloodied from Ethan’s knuckles. She had not bothered to put her glasses back on when they’d flown off during the fight inside. She was too consumed by blood lust.
Ida snatched the pistol from Harlon’s hand and immediately fired down into the water, hitting nothing with the remaining three bullets but continuing to pull the trigger until it clicked empty dozens of times. When her rage allowed a moment’s clarity to realize the gun would fire no more, she turned and threw it at Harlon, bent for the chainsaw, and began pulling the cord with senseless vigor, as if it might somehow be useful should she get it started.
Harlon bent and pulled his mother to her feet, her hand still clutching the saw’s cord like a fistful of another woman’s hair.
“Ma! Ma!” Harlon spun his mother by the shoulders so she would face him.
Ida finally let go of the cord, the saw hitting the wooden deck with a clunk. She looked up at her son with a possessed face, started slapping and punching him repeatedly. “STUPID FUCKING WASTE O’ CUM!!!”
Harlon tucked his chin and absorbed his mother’s blows.
Ida went on, words and blows: “Playing fucking games while your brother sits at death’s door!!! Playing fucking games while your mama lay unconscious!!! Playing fucking games while—” Her rage strangled anymore words, and she bent for the chainsaw, picking it up whole and throwing it at Harlon. He turned and took the brunt of the impact on his arm and shoulder. Ida rushed forward to continue her assault, but Harlon stopped her this time, catching her at both wrists. Ida went berserk, struggling to get free.
“Mama…”
Ida screamed and cursed and squirmed.
“Mama…”
Unable to break his hold on her wrists, Ida resorted to kicking her son’s shins.
“Mama!”
She stopped, panting heavily, staring up at her son, her anger only momentarily paused. “What!?”
His hands still gripping her wrists, Harlon flicked his chin out onto the river. “They’re gone,” he said.
Ida’s gaze followed her son’s. The river was empty, floodlights illuminating nothing but their own shine on the black water.
Ida’s gaze fell back on her son. “No more games, Harlon Roy—” She spit blood at his feet. “Lessen you wanna see this family burn, I suggest you go and ready a boat for you and me…right fucking now.”
“Reckon I’ll take that big ol’ grappling hook of Sam’s—far better than any I got,” Harlon said.
“I don’t rightly care.”
“You will when we’re fixin’ to haul back five bodies.”
“Says you, shit for brains.” She spit more blood at his feet and then headed back inside, muttering more obscenities under her breath.
Harlon looked out onto the river again. The group was on foot. He questioned if he’d be able to track them in only a boat. Ethan and Noah knew the terrain. Still, a good part of that terrain—the parts that headed back, anyway—rimmed the shoreline, unless you fancied your chances wading in neck-deep swamp that was home to some ornery critters. Ornery critters that might just be extra tempted to investigate a warm and tasty stream of red leaking from the girl’s calf, thanks to his deadeye.
He patted his o
wn back with a little smirk.
And then there was the husband and wife. They were old, lacked mobility. They would never be able to chance the swamps either. Ethan and Noah would have to take them back on that terrain closest to shore—the easiest way; the safest way.
Harlon suddenly barked out a solitary laugh. The safest way.
He left the empty pistol on the deck and headed inside to grab his rifle and scope.
Chapter 33
“Wait,” Liz said. “Wait, I have to stop.”
Ethan and Noah stopped. Liz was between them, an arm around each neck as they helped her along. She motioned to the ground, and both Ethan and Noah gently lowered her. Liz sat on her butt and lifted her pant leg. It was soaked through with blood. She winced and moaned as she managed the pant leg to her knee. It was dark, but the moon offered something in this particular spot. It had been like a dark room with a solitary television going thus far in their journey—inconsistent lighting with no discernible pattern. Sometimes good, sometimes dark, sometimes a maddening combination of both, alternating in quick succession, just as your eyes tried to accustom to one or the other.
Now, the TV seemed content to keep the channel on something reasonably bright for a good duration, and everyone got a decent look at Liz’s calf. It looked bad, even in the moonlight.
“Is it still bleeding?” Ethan asked.
Liz touched her calf, winced, and brought back a hand painted in blood.
“Jesus,” Russ said. “Why didn’t you say something, sweetheart?”
“I didn’t…I don’t know. I didn’t think it was that bad.”
Russ dropped to one knee. “We need to tie it off.” He looked up at everyone. “I need something to tie it off.”
Noah, who despite south Florida’s infamous humidity, was known to wear two layers to give the impression of more muscle on his young, lanky frame, immediately removed one of his tee shirts and handed it to Russ. Russ took the shirt, wrapped it around his daughter’s leg, and began to tie it off above the wound. He stopped suddenly and pulled his hand away as if stung.
“Goddammit!” He cradled his damaged thumb.
“I’ll do it,” Ethan said, dropping down. He took hold of the shirt and started to finish what Russ began. When it was time to cinch the knot, he looked up at Liz with an empathetic wince. “Gotta cinch it tight now.”
“Fine,” Liz said.
Ethan did, and Liz threw her head back, grimacing at the moon with a hiss.
“One more knot,” Ethan said. “To be sure.”
Liz said nothing, and Ethan took that as compliance. He cinched a second knot, and Liz moaned.
“Done,” Ethan said, getting to his feet. “All done.”
“How do you feel, honey?” Vicky asked.
“Dizzy.”
They all exchanged looks.
“We need to keep moving,” Ethan said. “Tucker might be down, I don’t know what the hell is going on with Travis, but sure as shit Harlon and Ida are on our tail.”
“He has one leg. She’s an old lady. Surely we’ve got enough of a head start?” Russ said.
“But we’re coming up on the river’s edge,” Ethan said. “I reckon they’ll be in a boat. They got spotlights and we’ll be visible. Plus…”
“Plus what?”
“Gators tend to congregate near the shore, hoping to catch something stopping for a drink.”
Russ looked baffled. “Then why the hell did you take us this way?”
“Because the alternative is to go swimming!” Ethan fired back. “At least this way we see ’em coming.”
Russ was out of his element and he knew it. He sighed and conceded with a nod.
“I’m sorry for yelling, Mr. Burk,” Ethan said, “but the only other way is in the deep waters of the swamp. In there, we’d be helpless if a gator fancied himself a bite. If we stick to as much dry land as we can, and we move fast, a gator won’t be bothered with such a chore. They prefer to lie in wait, not chase.”
Vicky looked at Russ. “That’s exactly what Sam said, remember? Alligators and pythons prefer to lurk and wait?”
Ethan pointed at Vicky. “Exactly right.”
“What do we do if one does come after us?” Russ asked.
“Not be there,” Ethan said, gesturing to the forest ahead, urging that they needed to keep moving.
Russ quickly turned his attention down on Liz. “Sweetheart? Sweetheart, can you keep going?”
Liz nodded, looking weary.
Ethan and Noah bent to help her up. Soon, each brother had one of Liz’s arms over their shoulder again.
They were about to press onward when the sound of an approaching boat motor froze them instantly.
Chapter 34
They were huddled together behind a group of cypress trees. Low to the ground and not even daring to breathe. The boat soon drifted into view on the river, maybe ten yards from where they hid. Russ chanced a quick look. He spotted Harlon and his mother in the boat, waving high powered flashlights back and forth across the black forest, the beams periodically waving their way, but not lingering thanks to the cover of the cypresses. Russ wondered if they should simply wait here. Wait until they drifted by and continued searching down the river. Surely that would give them some kind of edge in eluding them.
Elizabeth.
His daughter was hurt. They’d tied the wound off but she was still losing blood. She needed medical attention far sooner than later. And let’s not forget about the wildlife around them. What had Sam said; Vicky reiterating? They prefer to lurk? What better bait could they be for something that lurks if they were to remain still for who knows how long? It’s why Ethan insisted they keep moving, and quickly.
Russ decided to chance a whisper to the group, the boat nearly past them now.
“What should we do?” he asked.
“Keep moving,” Ethan said.
“But they couldn’t see us,” Russ said. “They went right by with lights, and they still couldn’t see us.”
“So?” Vicky said.
“If we keep moving, they might see us,” Russ said.
“So, what’re you saying, we should hang out here all night?” Vicky asked with not a little sarcasm, waving a hand over their surroundings to underline her bite. Russ knew their predicament all too well, but followed his wife’s hand anyway. Russ remembered reading an article that stated something to the effect that if people knew what was swimming a mere ten feet from them in the ocean they would never get back into the water. Looking around now, in the black and desolate world of the Florida Everglades, he wondered what was “swimming”
(“…they tend to lurk and wait, grabbing you when you’re not ready.”)
a mere ten feet from them.
And then Ethan’s words coming back now instead of Sam’s:
(“…you ask me, the wildlife here—in this house—is far more lethal than anything we’re gonna find out there.”)
There was a queer sort of comfort in that. Because that lethal wildlife had drifted past them. Still, did he really want to wait around and put Ethan’s theory to the test, give the other wildlife out here a chance to prove their lethality in contrast to the Roy’s? The answer was a resounding hell, no.
“All I’m saying is that they didn’t see us.” Russ then pointed. “Look—they’re down the river now.” In the distance, flashlights continued to move all over the forest like giant fireflies.
“If they didn’t see us, then that means they think we’ve made it farther down the river,” Ethan said. “They’ll be looking ahead, not back. We can follow and keep track of them this way.”
“Follow them?” Vicky said.
Ethan nodded. “It’s like I said about dealing with a gator on land or in the water. On land you can see them coming, you got a chance. We follow, keep an eye on them, and they’ll be like gators on land.”
No one responded, but their seemed to be an unspoken agreement with Ethan’s logic. He went on.
“We got
to keep moving though. I reckon I don’t need to explain why again, least of it being the state of Liz’s leg.”
Russ, his already considerable respect for the fifteen-year-old Ethan Daigle growing by the second, patted him on the back and said, “Okay, son—keep leading the way.”
***
Ida Roy continued to wave her flashlight all over the forest for show.
“Spotted them, did you?” she said.
Harlon was loading his rifle. “I surely did, Mama.”
Ida, her anger for her son’s previous foolishness hardly gone, allowed herself a little smile. “I want that Ethan Daigle alive. I want his tongue and his knuckles floating in my pickle jar come morning, hear?” She touched her wounded face at the hands of Ethan’s fists. “You bring him in alive and I do the rest. I do the rest.”
Harlon slid the bolt home on his rifle, and then peered through the scope a final time. The black woods came alive in his own personal circle of green light. He could see everything. “You got it, Mama.”
***
They started to move again, following the waving flashlights down the river. Ethan and Noah continued to be crutches for Liz while Russ and Vicky followed close behind, periodically stumbling on underbrush, or momentarily pausing as their feet sank into hidden pockets of wet earth, or stopping altogether when the black wilderness around them produced a rustle that sounded too close.
When Ethan, Noah, and Liz stopped suddenly and completely, Russ and Vicky felt a panic stronger than any nearby rustling could bring. They needn’t ask why they’d stopped; they could see—or actually, not see.
The flashlights were gone.
They could still hear the distant hum of the boat motor, but the flashlights were gone.
“Are they driving blind?” Russ asked in a frightened whisper.
“Maybe the batteries went out?” Vicky said.
“On both lights?” Ethan said.
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