by G A Chase
“You’d be on your own. I wouldn’t even trust telling Joe. In fact, I’m going to need him to run interference with any police that might be patrolling the wreckage of the park. If he got wind of your escapade, he’d insist on providing protection.”
He could tell she was still analyzing the plan. “Colin’s out of the way. Polly and the band will be searching the park, so that will bring along Joe and his team. You could be facing a problem if Luther is using someone from that team as an informant, but that would only ensure you’d have all of their attention. Didn’t Charlie tell you we could borrow his truck? I can use that to drive out to the swamp. The only unknown would be if Colin has his own paramilitary force, but even if he does, they’d likely be following the action at the park. You really can be inspired at times.”
“Two compliments in five minutes. That must be some kind of record. Just be careful. The only person unaccounted for in this little adventure is Madam de Galpion. I still don’t trust that voodoo priestess. You could be stepping into a trap.”
* * *
Myles winced when Minerva’s vintage VW bus let out a loud backfire as she shut it off in the otherwise empty Six Flags parking lot. It wasn’t the most discrete of vehicles, but it had the advantage of being seen as a goth-hippie mobile. Any security guard who managed to catch Myles and the four women of the band would probably let the crazy kids off with a warning.
The authorities weren’t what worried Myles, though. They’d have trouble subduing Cheesecake, let alone an unknown number of paramilitary dudes.
“I just want to see if they’re holding the professor here,” he said. “The idea is still to keep anyone following us distracted. Kendell said she needs at least two hours to get Sanguine back to New Orleans. If any of you ends up in trouble, just give up. If nothing else, we can keep whoever is after us busy standing guard.”
The band answered in unison, sarcastically. “Right.”
Polly leaned over the back of the bench seat in front of Myles. “You’re very sweet to look out for us, but you don’t honestly think we’re going to roll over and play dead, now do you? We’re women, you fool. Maybe you should just stay in the bus.”
“All I’m saying is don’t get hurt. We don’t need to fight our way out. Even if they have the professor captive in there, I don’t think they’ll hold him once they have what they want—or find out it’s not here. He’s more useful on the hunt than as a hostage.”
Polly flipped her long blond hair at him as she turned back to the front and the creepy amusement park outside the windshield. “Whatever, dude. We intend on having a little excitement. They’re not going to shoot us. That would just be stupid. So what’s the harm in running around in a bunch of decaying fun houses?”
Myles could see a lot of harm, but then he’d never been big on carnival rides. “Okay. Back here in two hours?” He hoped making it a question would defuse their resistance to his apparent attempts at taking charge.
“Sounds good,” Polly said. “We should pair off. Minerva and Scraper can take the north end of the park, and Lynn and I will take Myles to scope out the south end.”
The park was every bit as disturbing as he had imagined. Gates hung open as if to say, Enter if you dare. Graffiti typically annoyed the crap out of him, but as the only indication that living, breathing, humans had survived their illegal exploration of the haunted park, he accepted the tagging as markers of past progress.
Lynn leaned in next to him. “I did a little research. You’ll want to stay clear of the lakes and tall grass marshes. Alligators, snakes, and wild boars have taken up residency here.”
Thanks for that. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about. “At least I’m not seeing much in the way of security.”
“Is that a good thing?” Polly asked.
“I’m not sure. I know this place is usually pretty well patrolled. I’d guess that means the thugs are associated with the cops—that would mean either Luther’s men or the chief of police.”
Lynn grabbed his hand and ducked behind a concession stand. “We’re not alone.”
The three of them pressed their backs against the painted plywood. Polly wrinkled her nose. “What is that disgusting smell?”
Lynn pointed at the Sno Ball sign they were leaning against. “Dead nutria marinated in fermented flavored sugar syrup and swamp water, probably with a side of bugs.”
“I may never eat carnival food again.”
Other than the buzz of some overactive mosquitoes, Myles didn’t sense any threat. “What did you see?”
Lynn pointed at the source of the sound. A small, black drone was bobbing side to side. Before he could stop her, Polly bolted out from cover and hurled a rock at the aerial device. It came crashing to the ground.
Lynn rushed out to join Polly. “Good shooting, Tex.”
“It’s not the first time I’ve had one of these nerdy things spy on me. It probably didn’t do much good, though. I’m pretty sure it saw us.”
Myles picked up the drone and saw the rock had cracked the camera lens and bashed one of the propellers. “It’s not police issue, but it’s too sophisticated for a kid’s toy. We’re being watched, for sure.”
“Another tick in the Luther Noire column,” Polly said. “I’m beginning to really dislike that guy.”
Myles pulled the batteries out of the drone just to make sure they weren’t being heard. “Where there’s one, there’s bound to be more and, I’d guess, a mobile remote-control station as well. Has anyone spotted Joe’s team? I thought they were keeping pretty close tabs on you guys.”
Polly pulled out her phone. “I texted Joe we were headed out here on a lead. He said his team would be five minutes behind us.”
Myles was doing his best to keep all the different possibilities straight, but without his map and cartoon vans, that wasn’t easy. “If Joe told Luther, we may be headed into a trap.”
“My impression is Joe plays his cards close to the vest,” Polly said. “Based on how his team played zone coverage while they were watching us, I can tell they’re a tight-knit group. Dudes like that don’t share information with people they don’t completely trust.”
He had to admire her ability to understand the male psyche. “Just the same, we need to watch our backs. Any word from Minerva and Scraper?”
She continued staring at her phone. “They’ve found the black van. It’s near the old voodoo volcano ride in the boneyard. Anyone know what that ride looks like?”
Lynn pointed toward a tower of twisted metal. “How can you have grown up here and not ridden the volcano?”
Polly stashed her phone away. “I was usually busy behind the arcades, making out with some guy. Let’s get moving.”
Walking through Main Street Square was like witnessing a post-apocalypse vision of New Orleans. Originally designed to present a family-friendly, Disneyesque image of the often-seedy French Quarter, the abandoned, graffiti-covered buildings were even more frightening than the real thing.
Myles kept checking the sky for another drone. “We’d better keep under the balconies. Even though they know we’re here, they may not know which way we’re headed.”
Lynn kept close to his side. “All this place needs is a horde of rampaging zombie clowns.”
Myles’s nerves were already on edge. Feeling a hand at the back of his shirt collar, however, convinced him that Lynn’s assessment had come true. Another hand covered his mouth to prevent his none-too-manly scream from alerting the rest of the park. He and the two women were dragged into the Main Theater, which from the scattered chairs and refuse, looked to have endured its own private hurricane inside the structure.
The man dressed in black from head to foot whispered in Myles’s ear. “Keep quiet. We’re with Joe Cazenave. We’re here to protect you.”
The assurance of rescue instead of kidnapping calmed only Myles’s brain. His heart didn’t appear to appreciate the difference as it continued to pound much too quickly. “You guys are a little
late.”
Joe stood just inside the main entrance, surveying the street. “You weren’t our first priority. If one of you would have mentioned we were up against another team of professionals, I’d have brought more men.”
Myles calmed down at seeing Joe. “I wasn’t sure who to trust. Our best guess is this team is from Luther Noire. Since you work with him, even telling you we were on this mission was a risk.”
Joe took the news as stoically as ever. “I maintain a balance with Luther and Gerald. Neither want details about my activities, only results. The first thing we need to do is get Minerva and Scraper out of the action. Then my team can move in and rescue Professor Yates.”
Polly already had her phone out. Her fingers moved lightning fast over the display. “They’ll keep clear, but I’m not telling them where to go, just in case things get jinky.”
“It’s the professor’s equipment they’re after,” Myles said, “and any paranormal artifact they found in the park that led them all here. But you’re not going to get the professor out of here without his stuff, and I don’t think he’s going to trust another paramilitary force swooping in.”
“Right. You’re coming with me,” Joe said. “While my guys are distracting the other team, you and I will get the professor and his equipment.”
Myles hadn’t intended to volunteer, only to clarify that simply grabbing the professor wasn’t going to be very easy. “Then what? Run like hell? Wouldn’t it be easier to disable the enemy?”
“Sure, if we knew who they were, how many of them there are, what kind of weapons they have, who they—”
“I get it. We don’t want to add a bloodbath to the ambiance of this place. He’ll probably have his equipment in the van. The professor doesn’t travel light.”
Joe nodded to his team before turning to Polly. “Once the action starts, round up your bandmates and hightail it out of here in the VW. We can use your escape as part of our distraction. Myles and I will steal the other team’s van, so you should have a decent head start.”
“What about the rest of your guys?” Lynn asked.
“They’ll sneak out the same way we snuck in.”
Back out in the street, Myles realized how little he knew about covert missions. Joe moved from shadow to shadow, avoiding any direct path toward their objective. Finally, he hunkered down behind a vine-covered turnstile.
“We’ll wait here until my team makes their move,” Joe said. “The van is fifty yards ahead and to the left of us, on the other side of the roller coaster. There will be at least one guard on the professor, but as they’ve all come in the same vehicle, I doubt there will be more than one. If we’re lucky, he’ll poke his nose out once the girls start up that jalopy. But even if he doesn’t, I have ways of making him show himself. While I’m taking care of him, you make sure the professor is okay. I suppose it’d be too much to hope you know how to hot-wire a van.”
Myles had owned his fair share of run-down vehicles with busted keys. “Not one like that.”
“Just expose the wiring and fuses. Once I deal with the guard, I’ll have that black beast running in no time.”
A loud explosion preceded enough shouting to rival a rebel yell at a Civil War reenactment.
“That’ll be our cue,” Joe said. “Stay close behind me.”
Myles wondered what use a frontal assault would be on a well-trained abduction team, but figuring out Joe’s strategy wasn’t his problem—getting through the thick brush without getting bit by a snake or alligator was. The man dressed in black moved so effortlessly through the tangled vines and bent metal he made Myles feel like a toddler crawling after his dad. Finally, the weeds that had done their best to trip him gave way to a blacktop service road.
After all the work getting through the bushes, Joe moved like an Olympian sprinter with the open van door as his finish line. Myles didn’t even see the guard there until Joe had him pinned to the ground.
Feeling like the stupid kid brother who’d forgotten his part, Myles started running toward the van. The men were still struggling on the ground as he stepped around them and entered the vehicle.
The professor kept futzing with his equipment until he saw Myles. “About time someone showed up. I was running out of excuses about why I hadn’t found anything out here.”
“You’re the expert on electronic equipment. Think you can help me hot-wire this van?”
“Stand aside.” Professor Yates’s fingers moved through the wires under the dashboard with such skill that Myles suspected that wasn’t his first time.
After the van kicked over, Joe closed the sliding door. “It was one of Luther’s guys. I tied him up. Did you actually find anything out here, or was it all just a game?”
Professor Yates relinquished the driver’s seat to Joe. “There’s plenty of stuff out here worth finding but nothing that would warrant this level of activity.”
56
Kendell fidgeted like a girl who’d just asked her father to let her use the family car as Charlie pulled his keys out of his pocket.
“You’re sure you don’t want me to come with you?” he asked. “Jenny can be a little persnickety with someone she doesn’t know behind her wheel.”
The battered red truck parked on the street looked as though it hadn’t moved in months. “Myles and I need you here,” Kendell said. “You’re our backup in case something goes wrong.”
“Your call. Pump the accelerator twice before you turn the ignition. If she doesn’t start, don’t touch the gas again until she does. You need to show her who’s boss sometimes.”
He stood next to the truck until she had it running, though she wasn’t sure if his presence was for her benefit or to make sure the truck didn’t have a hissy fit. He remained on the curb as she drove down the street and made a turn away from the Quarter.
She liked her little yellow scooter for traveling around town. It was cute and made her look sexy as hell in her short skirts. Charlie’s truck sucked. The red Chevy was older than she was. It announced every bump and pothole with an ominous rattling of the suspension. The only looks she got behind the wheel were either from women glaring at her due to the noise or creepy men waiting for it to break down so they could swoop in and offer to help the damsel in distress.
Bad as the vehicle was around town, getting it up onto the freeway took all of her and the truck’s combined willpower. She stepped hard on the gas, hoping nothing was about to burst out of the hood and pushed on the steering wheel in an attempt to get the rickety beast up to speed. At sixty-five miles per hour, she eased off and settled back onto the vinyl bench seat.
At least traffic wasn’t bad on a Saturday for the half-hour drive out to the bayou. By the time she found her exit, her hands had built up a slippery layer of sweat on the hard steering wheel, but she and the truck had come to something of an understanding regarding who was driving and who should be responsible for propulsion.
She could practically feel the truck sigh with relief as she turned into a gravel parking lot and shut down the grumbling engine. Don’t get too comfortable. You still have to get me back home.
She looked around the small lot to make sure she was alone. Feeling more than a little self-conscious, she put on the glasses and draped a blanket over her head. “Sanguine, are you close? I’m at the parking lot.”
Though her face didn’t appear in the glasses, Sanguine’s message came in loud and clear. “I’m on my way. Just have to put a few more moves on Colin to get him good and lost in the swamp. Were you followed?”
Kendell mentally kicked herself for not being more observant, though driving the truck had occupied all of her attention. “I don’t think so. Myles and the band are putting on a pretty good deception.”
“I’m putting everything in your hands. You’d better not fuck up.”
Though Kendell’s first reaction was to make a snarky response, she had to agree. With all the work everyone had put in, though—plus the danger Myles and the band were enduring�
�the last thing she needed was a witch with cold feet. “Between a swamp witch and a voodoo priestess, we can handle anything thrown at us.”
“Just be ready for me. I want to get to New Orleans and then back out here as fast as possible. The storm’s getting closer.”
Kendell took the makeshift hood off her head and scanned the area. She didn’t see any signs of human activity. The trucks and trailers in the lot wouldn’t be reclaimed until the fishermen returned from their day on the water. Every car that slowed down on the freeway overpass made her tense with fear. Though not a cloud was in the sky, the weather could change in an instant.
Nervously, she ran to the edge of the parking lot and peered along the winding river that cut through the swamp. With a sigh of relief, she finally made out a small canoe working through the weeds. She started praying the truck would start.
The woman paddling the boat was far more muscular than Kendell had envisioned, but she’d only seen Sanguine’s face across the glasses’ communication link. In mud-caked jeans and a tank top so drenched in sweat her lack of a bra was obvious, she reminded Kendell of a woman escaping from a chain gang in some sexploitation movie. After beaching the canoe, Sanguine pulled a long cloth-wrapped object from the bottom of the boat.
“Is that it?”
“No. It’s a smoked water moccasin. I thought I’d need a bite to eat on the trip to town. Of course this is it.”
Kendell never had been a fan of sarcasm. “You don’t have to be so snippy all the time.”
“Sorry. A week in the swamp, living off the land while being pursued—especially since I had to lead him along—makes me grouchy. There’s nothing worse than an unskilled adversary.”
Kendell knew if their positions were reversed, she would have been far less amiable. She turned toward the truck, but the sound of ATVs made her stop cold. They came sliding to a halt, blocking the exit.
Shit.
As soon as the sound of the screaming engines died down, she heard the even-more-ominous high-powered airboat.
