by C. G. Mosley
TERROR IN THE MIST
C.G. Mosley
www.severedpress.com
Copyright 2017 by C.G. Mosley
Prologue
August 28th, 1992
New Orleans, Louisiana
Claire Hutton became a resident of New Orleans thanks to her husband’s job. Gavin was an attorney from a small town in Arkansas and though his practice was growing, higher aspirations eventually brought him and his family to the Crescent City. There was resistance from Claire at first, but once she became acquainted with her new home, she quickly decided there was no other place she’d rather be. The rich history and colorful buildings the city boasted were very charming and there was never a shortage of things for a family to do.
Claire and Gavin’s oldest daughter, Samantha, had just gotten over a nasty bout with the flu and was more than eager to get out of the house to get some fresh air. As soon as she’d felt better, Sam had practically begged her mother to take her out shopping in New Orleans’s French Quarter Market. There was some jewelry that she’d had her eyes on for quite some time and she had finally saved up enough money to purchase it. Claire was so pleased to see her daughter feeling better, she happily drove them over to the popular shopping venue as soon as she got off work.
The sun was beginning to set as they arrived and Claire noticed that there were more people than usual on a Thursday night. She suddenly remembered there was some sort business expo occurring downtown and thus parking in the area was scarce. They left the car a couple of blocks away and made the short walk toward the market. It was a brisk night and Claire suddenly found herself wishing she’d brought a slightly heavier coat. She glanced over at her sixteen-year-old daughter and pondered if she’d made a good decision bringing the girl into the cool evening air immediately after she’d been so sick. As if she’d read her mind, Sam looked over at her mother and smiled. It was enough of a reassurance to erase any guilt that may have been creeping into Claire’s head.
“Is there a particular piece you’re interested in?” Claire asked, pushing away a strand of brown hair that had blown across her face.
Sam nodded eagerly. “Yes, there is a charm bracelet that Kate’s boyfriend bought her from over here,” the girl replied. “She showed it to me at school the other day and did her best to make me feel bad that her boyfriend buys her things.”
Claire frowned and looked at her daughter, puzzled. “Well, why would she do such a thing like that?” she asked.
Sam looked back at her mother and her blue eyes sparkled. Claire took a moment to admire her beautiful daughter. As much as she hated to admit it, Samantha was the spitting image of her father. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a smile that could instantly alleviate any sadness or sorrow in any situation.
“She’s trying to make me feel bad because she has a boyfriend and I don’t,” Sam explained. “I’m going to buy the bracelet so that she knows I don’t need a boyfriend to have it.”
Claire smiled. Though her daughter may have gotten her looks from Gavin, clearly her personality and independent spirit came from her.
“Good for you,” she said, pulling her daughter closer as they walked. “And you keep your money, I’ll buy the bracelet.”
Sam beamed. “Really?”
“Really,” Claire replied with a smile.
When they finally arrived at the market, Claire allowed Sam to lead the way. The young girl knew exactly where she was going and led her straight to a corner booth surrounded by tables draped with green cloths. On top of the tables, there were wooden cases adorned with hundreds upon hundreds of various pieces of jewelry.
There were two middle-aged women that ran the booth and Claire thought they looked so much alike that they must be sisters. She refrained from asking and just politely waved as Sam began to scan over the wide selection. One of the women was slightly taller than the other and her brown hair was put up in a bun. She wore red-rimmed glasses that looked a lot like the ones Claire had seen Sally Jessy Raphael wear on her television talk show. The other lady wore her hair down but wore similar glasses.
It’s the glasses, Claire thought. They look related because they’re wearing the same glasses.
“May I help you find something, sweetie?” the woman with the bun asked Sam.
Sam looked up from the case she was standing over. “Yes, ma’am,” she replied politely. “I’m looking for your charm bracelets.”
The woman motioned for Sam to follow her over to the other end of the booth and Sam eagerly followed. Claire stayed where she was at. A pair of earrings had caught her eye.
“Anything I can help you with?” the other lady asked her.
Claire looked up and smiled. “Oh no, I’m just looking,” she replied. “I’m here because of her,” she added, nodding toward her excited daughter.
The woman’s face softened substantially as she returned a smile of her own. “She’s lovely,” she said. “I know you must be proud.”
“Oh yes, I am,” Claire answered.
“You enjoy her and take good care of her,” the woman said in reply. Claire picked up on a bit of sadness in her words.
“I most definitely will,” she replied. “There’s not a lot a mother won’t do to take care of her child.”
The woman nodded, seemingly happy to hear Claire make the statement. “I’m so happy to hear you say that,” she said. “I had a daughter like her many years ago.”
“Oh, you did?” Claire asked. She didn’t like the way the woman used the word had.
The woman nodded. “Yes, but she died in a car crash,” she said somberly.
Claire felt a knot tighten in her stomach. “Oh my,” she whispered. “I am so sorry.”
She looked on as the woman looked down toward the ground. “She was about the same age as your daughter,” the woman added. “Looked a great deal like her too.”
Claire could hear the hurt in the older woman’s words and she felt a lump in her throat. It seemed as if her and Sam being there had opened an old wound the woman had been dealing with for many years.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said, reaching out and holding the woman’s hand.
The woman smiled at her and seemed to shake off the hurtful memories. “Enough about that, dear,” she said apologetically. “I noticed you had your eye on those earrings. Would you like for me to retrieve them so that you can see them up close?”
Truthfully, Claire didn’t want the earrings. She liked them, but she just didn’t think they’d look right on her. However, since the woman had gotten so emotional about her deceased daughter, Claire almost felt like she had to buy the earrings out of sympathy.
“Sure, I’d like that,” she replied after considering it a moment.
The lady carefully handed the earrings over to Claire and she stared at them with forced interest.
“They really are beautiful,” she said finally. “I think I’ll take them.”
The woman’s face brightened and she seemed to have forgotten all about the conversation concerning her daughter.
“That’s a good choice, dear,” she said. “I’ll go wrap these up for you and we’ll wait on your girl to pick out her bracelet.”
Claire nodded as the woman hurried away and, except for the busy folks strolling from booth to booth behind her, she suddenly found herself standing alone. She was thinking about what the woman had said about Sam looking a lot like her deceased daughter and it gave her a chill. The unsettling thought was depressing and she again felt a deep sadness within her returning and swelling to the point she thought she was going to cry.
She surveyed her surroundings in an effort to shak
e off the unsettling thoughts. All she saw around her were people smiling and laughing. Everyone seemed to be having a genuinely good time and enjoying each other’s company. The outdoor pavilion that housed all the booths was long and wide enough to allow a heavy flow of people to navigate the lengthy corridor between them. Claire found herself standing at the very end of the pavilion, so she had a good view of the heavy traffic of happy people throughout the entire market.
As she looked on and pondered which booth they’d visit next, she heard a loud commotion coming from somewhere near the riverfront. The mighty Mississippi River ran parallel to the French Quarter Market and the water was just a short walk from where Claire was standing. She heard screams and whatever was going on seemed to be originating from somewhere near the water.
“Mom, what’s going on?” she heard Samantha ask.
Claire looked over to find her daughter standing nearby with a worried look on her face. “What is all the screaming about?”
The woman with the bun in her hair looked worried too. “You two better get out of here and get to some place safe,” she urged. “I’ll hold your jewelry for you and we can continue this transaction later.”
Claire nodded in agreement and grabbed Sam’s arm as she turned to run in the opposite direction from the commotion. As she did so, she locked eyes with the other woman that had lost her daughter.
“Take care of her,” the woman said, pointing at Samantha.
Suddenly, without warning, Claire and Sam were overcome by a mob of panicked and fleeing people. The people were still screaming, and some were crying. Claire heard someone say something about a man getting eaten alive. She felt a cold chill run up her spine. As the sea of scrambling people continued to rush past them, Samantha was suddenly knocked to the ground. Claire looked on in horror as her daughter was trampled on, unable to get up.
“Get away from my daughter!” she screamed as she tried desperately to push back against the flow of the crowd. It seemed that the harder she pushed, the further she was swept away from Sam.
Despite the growing distance between her and her daughter, Claire did not relent. She continued to push through the crowd to make every effort to get Samantha to safety. As her lungs began to burn from all the screaming she was doing, finally the crowd began to thin a bit and for the first time it allowed Claire to see exactly what the source of all the commotion actually was. The sight horrified her.
In the middle of the corridor, there was an enormous crocodile unlike anything she’d ever seen before. She estimated the animal had to be at least forty feet long. The crocodile’s snout was slick with blood and the animal was surrounded by numerous body parts and other gore that Claire was unable to identify. The visual made her scream again, probably louder than she’d ever screamed before, and for a moment, she became frozen in terror.
Samantha was finally visible again, but Claire could immediately see that she was injured. Her daughter’s ankle was twisted oddly, and she was sobbing uncontrollably, but Claire was at least relieved to see that she was alive. The giant crocodile seemed to notice her too, and to her horror, Claire noticed the vile creature began to hobble in Samantha’s direction.
Claire’s heart began to beat so intensely she could feel the vibration of it in her ears. With the crowd finally out of the way, she started running back toward Samantha. The crocodile continued its approach and it seemed as if Claire would get to her daughter at the same time as the animal. If that happened, Claire knew there would be no way to avoid disaster. She pushed forward as fast as her legs would carry her, but as the enormous animal seemed to burst forward with more speed, she knew her efforts were futile. She was about to watch her daughter be eaten alive and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.
“No!” Claire screamed as the crocodile opened its large maw and lunged for Samantha. She fell to her knees in defeat and wailed with her eyes closed, unable to watch the nightmarish scene play out in front of her. She heard Samantha scream and the mother in her would not allow her eyes to remain closed. When she opened them, she was surprised to see that Sam was somehow still alive and crawling toward her. It was then, that she noticed that the crocodile had chosen another victim instead. It was the woman that had helped her with the earrings. The woman that had told her the sad story about the loss of her daughter.
As the crocodile devoured the screaming woman, Claire ran for her daughter and dragged her away.
“She pushed me out of the way,” Sam screamed while sobbing. “The lady pushed me out of the way!”
Claire eyed a nearby streetcar. She saw the horrified driver watching the scene unfold. He was wearing a purple button-up shirt with an even darker shade of purple colored tie. The man was staring at the chaotic scene with a blank stare.
“Can you walk?” she asked Samantha.
“I think so,” Sam replied, struggling to get to her feet. She was clearly trying to hold back tears.
With Claire’s help, she managed to stand and the two of them gingerly made their way to the streetcar.
“Where does this track go?” Claire asked the driver.
The man looked over at her and said nothing. He was apparently in shock.
“Where does this track go?” she asked again, this time yelling the question.
The man seemed to snap out of it. “Woldenberg Park,” he mumbled. “To the ferry,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
“Alright,” Claire said, pushing past him and onto the streetcar. She realized they’d parked relatively close to the ferry. “Get us to the ferry terminal.”
The man nodded, but said nothing. He continued to stare toward the enormous prehistoric-looking crocodile as it devoured another screaming victim.
“Now!” Claire screamed, and she slapped him.
The man looked over at her, wide-eyed. He seemed to be in disbelief that she’d hit him.
“I’m sorry,” Claire explained. “But unless you want to end up like those people you’re so enthralled to watch die, we need to move now!”
The man slowly nodded and took a deep breath. It seemed he’d finally gotten the point. Within seconds, the streetcar was moving away from the carnage.
Chapter 1
The drive from Jackson to New Orleans took only two hours and ten minutes. Jonathon Williams had broken every speed limit along the way, but it was imperative that he made it to New Orleans as quickly as possible. Once he arrived at the edge of the city, he pulled into a convenience store parking lot and made his way to a payphone.
He reached into his pocket to retrieve some change and Mr. Cold’s business card. He dialed the number on the card and after one ring, there was an answer.
“That was a fast drive,” Mr. Cold said.
“It must be nice to have one of those mobile phones,” Jonathon quipped. “How did you know it would be me calling?”
“No time for questions,” Mr. Cold replied. “Make your way toward the French Quarter. You will find me behind the Aquarium of the Americas. There is a makeshift command center there. When you arrive, tell any authorities you encounter your name and show them identification. They will allow you in. If you encounter any local law enforcement along the way that tries to delay you, have them call me directly. Do you understand?”
“Understood,” Jonathon replied, and he immediately hung up the phone and returned to his Jeep.
As he motored further into town, he noticed a steady stream of vehicles heading the opposite direction. He couldn’t remember seeing that many cars leaving New Orleans since the last hurricane had been in the vicinity. Jonathon navigated most of the trip down Interstate 10 until ultimately taking Canal Street toward the aquarium.
He pulled the Jeep onto a curb, grabbed his fedora, and frantically made his way toward a large gathering of soldiers and New Orleans policemen at the rear of the aquarium. As expected, Jonathon was stopped, but just as Mr. Cold had promised him, once he showed his identification, he was allowed through. As he jogged toward a large
covered structure at the rear of the aquarium, he scanned his surroundings for any sign of Mr. Cold. He didn’t see him, but there was another familiar face that he did see.
“About time you decided to show up,” Glenn Hardcastle grumbled.
Hardcastle was dressed better and appeared much cleaner than he had been the last time Jonathon had seen him. He was wearing a white button-up shirt, khaki pants, and brown boots. The only thing he wore that Jonathon did remember was his hat. Hardcastle’s hat was made of leather and the band was decorated with raptor claws.
“I’m really surprised you’re not dead,” Jonathon said, offering a handshake.
Hardcastle looked down at his hand and then back up to Jonathon.
“You think after everything that happened between us on that barge that I’m going to shake your hand?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “You know, you’ve got a mean right hook that cost me a couple of molars.”
Jonathon pulled back his hand and wasn’t sure how to respond. He just stared at Hardcastle for a long awkward moment.
Finally, the dinosaur wrangler allowed a smirk and offered his hand.
“No hard feelings,” he said with a wink as Jonathon shook his hand.
Jonathon looked around at the chaotic scene. “So where is Cold?” he asked.
Hardcastle turned and pointed toward a cluster of men in suits. “Over there,” he said. “He and some of his C.I.A. buddies seem to be having a disagreement with the National Guard on how to proceed.”
Jonathon was confused. “A disagreement? What is there to disagree about?”
“Well, it seems that the National Guard was to destroy the croc, but Cold is more interested in capturing it and keeping it alive,” Hardcastle explained, annoyance in his tone.
Jonathon’s mouth dropped open from astonishment. “You’ve got to be joking,” he snapped. “Catching that thing is not an option—it must be destroyed before someone else gets killed.” He looked around as another thought occurred to him. “Speaking of the Sarcosuchus…where is it?”
