Uncle Gary's Campfire Stories: Bayou Zombie Werewolves
Page 8
“Well shit!” Jessup groaned. “This is all we need. Cops’ll investigate, then they’ll start looking at our garage. Then you and I will be in jail getting poked in the ass.”
“Nuh-uh.” Bubba responded. Of course his answer was less to do with the police and more to do with whether or not he’d be on the receiving end of prison rape.
“Well what do you want to do? We can’t just leave all these bodies down here. I’ve watched enough movies to know it’d be just a matter of time before somebody stumbles onto this place. Face it Bubba…you and I are fucked with a capital eff-yoo-see-kay-ee-dee.”
“Listen Jess, the way I see it there are two ways this can go. We can run up and hide all our stuff, then call the police.”
“Aww man, but-“
Bubba held up a hand, “Let me finish. We can either hide all that stuff up there, or we can get rid of the bodies.”
Jessup looked down at the bodies, and then shook his head, “We can’t do that. I mean I’ve done some fucked up shit, but hiding bodies.”
“Think about it man. Just look around. This place is ancient. However these guys died, it was a long time ago. So you can whine about it, or you can help me load them up and take them to the boat. Then we’ll toss them out in the bayou somewhere. If they ever get found then nobody will know they came from here.”
Jessup groaned, “It’ll never work.”
“Of course it’ll work. We just have to take them out deep into the middle of nowhere, and then dump them out. Trust me…what’s the worst that could happen.” Bubba grinned.
***ONE HOUR LATER***
“I don’t know man. Do you think it was okay to just leave those last two in the craphole until we get back? I realize that we can’t fit them in here, but what if someone sees them laying there?” Jessup answered.
“You worry too much. They’ll be fine. Now pull your panties out of your crack and quit whining.”
“Keep talking smack and you can drag the next batch of bodies to the boat yourself.” Jessup muttered.
“Oh stop being a pussy. It’s just-“
Bubba was interrupted by a loud hiss as an alligator’s head rose up out of the water and started moving towards the boat. Seconds later, a second alligator rose, and then two more, and then five more, within a span of ten seconds there were fifty hungry alligators making a beeline for the boat, and another twenty were still apparently trying to decide whether to make the effort to come after the men, or accept that there were already so many that they’d never get a scrap.
“Well this is bad.” Jessup screamed.
“No shit.” Bubba groaned.
“What do we do?”
Bubba yelled, “We do what we came here to do you idiot! So now let’s toss these bodies to the gators and get the hell out of here while they’re busy eating.”
Both men worked like mad, tossing the bodies into the water. As they hit the water the gators attacked the dried up bodies like Randy Savage snapping into a Slim-Jim. The men kept tossing bodies as fast as possible. Some of the bodies didn’t even hit the water before gator teeth were sinking into them. The sounds of jaws snapping shut, and brittle bones breaking echoed out in all directions.
“Hurry up, they’re getting closer!” Bubba screamed. He reached down, and grabbed one of the bodies by the head. His fingers using its mouth as a handhold to lift the corpse up and, with the help of his brother, throw the body into the waiting jaws of a very hungry gator. “Ow! Son of a bitch!”
“What happened?” Jessup asked while still trying to toss another body overboard.
“I cut myself on its teeth.”
“Bad?”
“Nah, it’s barely even bleeding. Now shut up and keep throwing them out.” Bubba screamed and grabbed another by the head.
“One left.”
“Thank god.” Bubba grabbed the feet, “Hairy bastard though.”
“Yeah, barely even looks human.” Jessup leaned down to grab him by the head. “And what’s with those teeth. Shit…was his dad part german shephard?”
“I know right. I mean that’s a face only a really drunk mother could love, and even then only if she had cataracts.” Bubba laughed as they both lifted the body.
“Ow! Motherfucker!” Jessup screamed and dropped his part of the body.
“What?”
“Damn thing bit me.”
“Don’t be an idiot. How could it bite you? It’s dead.”
Jessup held up his hand, “Look, a bite mark.”
Bubba rolled his one good eye, “Oh you big fucking baby. You just cut your hand on its teeth. I did the same thing on that other one.” The other dull glass eye just stared slightly off to the left.
“It bit me!”
“It did not! That was just your imagination.” Bubba snapped. “Now move your ass and help me get him in the water before these hungry bastards decide to climb up in our boat and show you what a real bite is.”
Both men lifted, and then flung the body as far out into the water as they could. The sudden shifting of weight made the boat sway back and forth violently. Jessup fell back on his butt, but Bubba fell halfway out of the boat. When Jessup was able to get his bearings, he looked over and saw his brother hanging over the side at his waist struggling to get back in. The man’s face was kept bobbing in and out of the water as his legs kicked in all directions to get enough momentum to go back in the boat.
That’s when a gator rose up out of the water just a few feet from Bubba. Jessup had a perfect view, but he was too far away to pull his brother in. The gator went right for Bubba’s face. Jessup panicked, and twisted the handle to give the boat gas. The engine smoked and sputtered, but the boat started moving forward. The gator lunged as the boat started picking up speed. Its mouth opened wide ready to chomp down.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” Bubba screamed. His arms and legs flailing in all directions as the gators’ mouth closed with a very audible snap.
“Bubba!” Jessup screamed.
“Ho-lee-Shit!” Bubba slid back into the boat. Then in a panic he started feeling around his face. “Nose, ears, face…thank God. Aww shit!”
“What?” Jessup screamed over the boat motor.
“Damn gator got my cap!”
“Damn gator nearly got your head. Be thankful that you are still alive!”
“Yeah but that was my favorite cap. It let all the ladies know I was an orgasm donor.”
“It was just a hat.” Jessup groaned.
“The hell it was…it was a way of life, and Sally Mae liked it.”
Jessup laughed, “Sally Mae likes it because that way she don’t have to see the moonlight shining off your bald head when you go down on her.”
“I think the important part of that sentence was me going down on her.” Jessup grinned. The men would have continued their argument, but just then the boat struck land and ran aground. Both men were thrown forward, and landed unceremoniously. Jessup landed at the water’s edge, but Bubba hit the ground hard, bounced twice, and then rolled to a stop face down. After a moment, both men rose to their feet.
“What in the hell kind of driving was that Jessup! You could have gotten us killed!” Bubba grumbled. Jessup looked at his brother, bit his lower lip, and tried hard to fight the urge to laugh. “What’s so damn funny?”
“You’re face. You got shit all over it.” Jessup couldn’t hold it back any longer. The laughter came out like a wheezing cough.
“Asshole!” Bubba grumbled as he wiped the crap off his face. When he was done there were still brown smears that sent his brother into giggling fits every time he looked at them, and every time Jessup giggled, Bubba would call him an asshole and start wiping again.
“Just go wash it off.” Jessup laughed.
“Fuck you. I ain’t getting in that water. That gator’s probably just waiting on me down there.”
“You think the gator followed us all the way here?”
“I’m not ruling out the possibility. Now let’s get the boa
t back in the water and…SHIT!”
“What?” Jessup asked.
“There’s a big ass hole in the boat! We’re gonna have to walk. This is your fault.”
“My fault? Well next time I’ll let the gator eat your face. Would that make you happy?” Jessup snapped.
“Hell, it might be better than the four miles I’m gonna have to walk now.” Bubba grumbled as he started plodding off towards home.
“Bitch…bitch…bitch.” Jessup followed his brother. After a few steps Jessup gasped, “Whew! Dude, did you shit yourself?”
“Well what did you expect me to do while I was getting a closer look at that gator’s tonsils? Now shut up because a gator tried to eat me, we got four miles to walk home, I lost my favorite hat, my boxers are squishy, and all I can smell is ‘possum shit!” Bubba screamed as he stuck both middle fingers up in the air and started turning in a circle.
“What are you doing?”
“Flipping off my guardian angel…that was a hell of a time for him to take a smoke break.”
Jessup shook his head, “Yeah, piss him off. That’ll end well.”
Bubba turned, “Oh come on…you know there ain’t no such thing as God.”
“What I know is you just survived a gator attack. So it might not be such a good idea to poke the man upstairs whether he’s real or not. It’s bad karma. Now how’s your hand?” Jessup asked with genuine concern.
Bubba looked at his hand. The wound was already looking red and possibly a little infected. “Burns like hell. What about you?”
“It tingles. I still say that body bit me.”
Bubba laughed, “That’s stupid. It’s dead. Dead things can’t bite you.”
“Okay fine. If it makes you happy then I made it all up in my head. It didn’t bite me. I cut my hand on its teeth. It doesn’t make it hurt any less.” Jessup grumbled. “Hey, can you do me a favor?”
“What?”
“Can you…stay downwind? You’re pretty damn ripe.” Jessup said, and started turning a little green as the breeze carried his brother’s scent right to him.
“Asshole! See how well you smell with your pants full of shit!” Bubba snapped.
“You could take them off. Then maybe just pull your pants back on and go commando.”
“Fuck you! With my luck a pack of horny raccoons would sneak up and molest me. I’ll keep my mudbutt until I get to the safety of home thank you very much.” Bubba growled.
“Yeah…mother nature really doesn’t seem to like you at all. It serves you right for never recycling…ever. Now about that being downwind?”
“Fine! You and your fucking eco-hippie bullshit.” Bubba snarled, and then moved downwind of his brother.
Meanwhile back in the bayou the gators were happily chomping on the corpses. Many of them had bits of scientist in their stomach, while others had chunks of doctor sliding down into their stomachs. For the most part, the gators were happy for the meal, even if it was dry. However there were a few that almost immediately started thrashing in the water. The gators tried to swim to the bottom and escape, or at least hope the water pressure stopped the pain, but it didn’t. They swam to the surface, rolling and flopping the entire time in the hopes they could dislodge whatever it was that caused such agony. They didn’t know what it was, but they felt a gnawing sensation moving down through their bodies. They desperately tried to find some way to make it stop, but couldn’t get away because the pain came from so deep inside. Finally, exhaustion set in and all they could do was float at the top while something inside kept biting and chewing.
Chapter Seven
An old beat up Ford pickup came to a stop beside the brothers just as the sun was setting over the horizon. It’d been a long walk up until now, and they had at least another thirty to forty-five minutes of walking before they’d turn down the road back to their land. Both men were in a bad mood, and had been arguing the last few minutes.
“Can you give us a lift?” Jessup yelled over the knocking of the pickup.
“That depends on where you’re going?” The man screamed back, but his voice could only barely be heard over the distracting combination of engine noise and country music. Jessup gave directions, and then the man popped his passenger door open. “Alright, hop in.”
“Thanks.” Jessup smiled as he hopped into the passenger seat.
Bubba was just about to slide inside when a gust of wind carried his scent over to the driver. The driver covered his nose and gagged, “Hoo-boy! I think you better sit in the back and air out some. My truck might look like a piece of shit, but I’d still prefer if it didn’t smell the part as well.”
Bubba grumpily waddled towards the back of the pickup, and then scowled when he reached the back. Part of his discomfort was the combination of chapped ass, tired legs, and Play-Doh factory hiding in the back of his pants. The other part was the hodgepodge of bumper stickers all over the tailgate.
“I love Jesus, but he says he just wants to be friends.”
“My other car…is a real piece of shit!”
“Jesus died for your sins, not your stupidity.”
“Stop riding my ass, this ain’t San Francisco.”
“Warning: In case of rapture this truck is either unmanned, or manned by a really pissed off driver.”
“Wanted: large breasted women…many positions available.”
“I hate (insert current president here).”
“If Scientology was real, don’t you think Tom Cruise would be taller?”
“The only religious nuts I want to be around…are the ones in my pants.”
There were roughly twenty more bumper stickers covering everything on the back of the pickup except the taillights. The very center of the tailgate was an Acadian flag with “Where Y’at?” written in big block letters underneath. Bubba put his foot on the bumper and lifted himself into the bed of the pickup. Once he was inside he had no real choice but to sit down, and he cringed as he felt the contents of his underwear squish and conform to his butt cheeks.
Bubba turned his head to look into the cab of the pickup, but a sticker was blocking his vision. It was Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes on his knees praying, “Lord, forgive me for peeing on everything.”
“Why can’t people keep their stupid opinions to themselves.” Bubba grumbled just before the pickup began rolling down the road. “Well at least the breeze’ll take the stank away.”
Jessup looked at the man. He was in his mid-forties, rail thin, with a blonde crew cut. The man had a warm, friendly smile, and blue eyes so playful they made him look a little crazy. One of his hands had a tan line from a wedding ring, and the other was missing a pinky. The man noticed Jessup staring at the pinky, “It was from tossing firecrackers when I was a kid. A short fuse, and some slow reflexes cost me the pinky, but at least I still got the hand.”
“I bet that hurt.”
“Nah, I was too shocked to feel it. I just stood there like an idiot wondering where my pinky went. By the time I actually was able to feel anything, I was already on painkillers in the hospital. My name is Bobby…Bobby Mullins, but most my friends just call me Coonass.” Bobby was genuinely friendly towards the man. Of course he was friendly to most people. There weren’t many in the parish that had a bad word to say about the man, and the ones that did were usually the ones in the wrong.
Jessup was grateful the man had pulled over. He was saving the brothers a long walk. He grinned and asked, “So you live around here?”
“Yeah, it’s just me and my daughter B.J. Of course she’s in college now.” Bobby grinned with pride as he tapped a picture hanging down from the rearview mirror. Jessup looked, and caught himself before he gave a whistle that probably would have had him put back out of the truck. B.J. had a smile that even made Jessup grin. She had short black hair in a pixie cut, dark caramel skin, and curves that made Jessup have to remind himself repeatedly not to say anything that got him tossed out.
“So B.J. stands for?” Jessup asked, and then had to
fight to hold his tongue because his smart mouth nearly slipped up and said exactly what he hoped it might stand for. Of course with those soft full kissable lips he was pretty sure she’d have no problem living up to expectations if given half a chance.
“Bobbie Joe. She’s a junior at LSU in biological sciences. B.J.’s gonna be the first person in our family to graduate college. She’s gonna be something big just you wait and see.” Bobby sounded practically giddy. He didn’t completely understand what she did in school. He honestly didn’t understand much about school in general. What he did understand was opportunity and hard work. College would give her opportunities he’d never have even considered, and as for hard work…she got her work ethic from him.
“Well someone’s a proud poppa.” Jessup laughed, but irritation was already setting in. The country music, the happy-go-lucky attitude, and the bragging about his daughter all came together to somehow infuriate him. “Hey, would you mind turning down the radio. I don’t mean to be rude, but I got a helluva headache.”
“Sorry, it’s broken. CD got stuck in it Christmas before last, and last Halloween B.J. broke the controls when her milkshake leaked down onto it from the dashboard. I keep meaning to get a new stereo put in, but I’ve just been too busy.” Bobby smiled sheepishly.
“Lazy ass.” Jessup spat.
“What’d you say?” Bobby asked as he leaned over to hear better.
“Christmas…I was asking about how it got stuck in there last Christmas.”
Bobby looked embarrassed, “I lost my temper. It was a damn foolish thing to do. I punched it, and broke two fingers in the process.” Bobby held up his hand and two of his fingers were still slightly bent at funny angles.
“Well hopefully you felt better afterward.”
“No, it didn’t help at all. In fact I spent the next couple weeks being reminded about how stupid I was every single day at work.”
“Really? What do you do?”
“I own a company that installs and maintains septic tanks. We clean them, or fix them if something goes wrong.”
Jessup rolled his eyes, “What the hell could go wrong with a septic tank? It’s just a big box where you send your shit right?”