The Swamp Killers

by Sarah M. Chen

When Joey opened his eyes, his mom zoomed into focus. “A spy app on my phone? Seriously, Mom?”

  “You can’t blame me for wanting to protect you. I almost lost you once before.”

  “That’s not a reason.”

  “I never know what you’re going to do next,” she said.

  “You should listen to me, Mom. I tell you the truth, but you don’t want to hear it.”

  “I know,” she admitted. “I wish things were different.”

  “Do you wish I were different?” Joey asked.

  “No,” his mother said softly. “I wish the world were.”

  At that moment, that felt like enough. His mom held his hand, and he didn’t want to let go.

  Back to TOC

  The Path to Enlightenment Ends in Jacksonville

  Sarah M. Chen

  This part of the swamp rarely saw visitors. The people of Jacksonville knew to stay away, especially in the summer and early fall, when rainfall is the heaviest. It was always the occasional lost tourist who would be driving along the road that led to the isolated ramshackle bungalow. They’d inevitably get stuck, mud sucking at the tires. That’s why it was strange to see this pickup, carrying crates of chickens, ambling along. The truck stopped just before the road dipped, like it knew better. A young woman climbed out, turned, and waved.

  The swamp greeted her with buzzing mosquitoes and the occasional frog croak. Birds flapped in the sky. Towering cypress trees covered in moss loomed over her as she slowly made her way to the lone cabin.

  11 a.m.

  Fernando gazed into his beer. Tried to tune out the awful music up on stage. What kind of bar had a live band at eleven in the morning? Renny was jabbering as usual. About what Fernando had no idea. Stopped listening twenty minutes ago.

  “Loosen up, man. I feel like I’m having a beer with a brick wall.” Renny took a big swig, draining the bottle. Fernando watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “You don’t know how to have fun.” He signaled the bartender for another. She nodded.

  “I’m sitting here with you, aren’t I? Instead of doing our job?” The job being tracking down Loree, Big Chris’s wife, and bringing her back to Veto. Apparently she didn’t drown back in Everton, the town that was obliterated in one single night thanks to those crazy bitches who blew up the dam. Veto got word from a couple of his drivers that she was alive and well. Immediately sent Renny and Fernando out to hunt her down. Came close a few times but she always managed to elude them. The most recent sighting was here in Jacksonville. They’d already combed the bars and fleabag motels with her picture. Nothing. Fernando had to hand it to her. She was like a ghost.

  He was tired of chasing this chick but Veto was the boss. As head of Jersey’s biggest gambling ring, he had a reputation to uphold. Plus she wasn’t done paying off her dead husband’s debt. Big Chris had owed Veto a nice chunk of change. And Veto being the considerate guy he was, he let Big Chris work it off by hauling toys for Sinbad Trucking, a front for Veto’s dirty money. Only problem was Big Chris was found belly up in the Delaware River. Which put Loree in his seat. Literally.

  “You’re only here ’cause of the air conditioning,” Renny said.

  Fernando shrugged. “So?”

  “You boys need to get out on out of here.”

  They turned to face a skinny older man with shocking white hair. He towered over them, hands on his hips, glaring.

  “Oh yeah? What the fuck did we do?” Renny asked.

  “I don’t want no trouble in here. I’m tired of dealing with all you assholes.”

  “I’m just having a drink with my pal here. Seems like you’re the asshole.”

  “I know why you’re here. You and all these lowlifes coming into our town. Stirring up trouble and scaring folks. Take your business outside.” He waved his hand toward the door. The bartender hovered with Renny’s beer, uncertain. The man looked at her. “They’re done, sugar. Bring ’em the bill.” He pursed his mouth. “In fact, forget it. On the house. Just git.” He nodded at the bartender and stomped off.

  Fernando was stunned. He’d never been thrown out of a bar before by someone who’d paid their bill. Guess it beat paying and then being kicked out. He stood up.

  Renny had a different idea and remained seated. “Nah, man. Sit down.” He turned to the bartender and pointed to the beer she held. “Gimme that, sweetheart.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t wanna get fired.” She swallowed, glancing nervously in her boss’s direction. “Barry wants you gone.”

  Renny placed his hands on the bar, hunched forward. His dirty blond hair hung in his face. “What about you, hon? You want us gone?” Off her blush, he winked, settled back in his seat. “So what’s got Barry’s panties in a bunch?”

  She leaned toward them. Fernando smelled her flowery perfume. Renny ogled her cleavage. “Over at the Tooth and Ale last night?” Off Renny’s blank look, she said, “The bar at the shipyards? My friend, Courtney, works there. Got shot and is in the hospital.”

  “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about, sweetie.”

  “There was a big shootout last night. Place was crawling with feds. You didn’t hear about it?”

  Fernando’s stomach lurched at the sound of “feds.”

  “Feds?” Renny twisted his mouth up. “Who they looking for?”

  The bartender’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that why you’re here? To kill that guy and collect the bounty?”

  Renny’s eyes lit up. “Bounty?”

  The bartender lowered her voice. “Olivia Duplass, the head of the crime family over in Atlanta?”

  Fernando and Renny nodded. Oh yeah. They knew the Duplasses, alright. More than Fernando wanted to.

  “Well, she put a hit on this dude. Wants him real bad. Like a cool mil bad. Courtney told me all about it this morning.”

  At the mention of a mil, Fernando felt his pulse quicken.

  “And my boyfriend swears he saw them last night. On his smoke break right outside Klancy’s. They were coming out of that psychic place next door, Crystal Kingdohm.” The bartender said it like “King-dome.” “They were arguing. Melody, the Duplass daughter, was crying. Didn’t like what the psychic told her I guess. Something about stabbing her in the back.” She paused. “Or was it doing something behind her back?”

  “You still here?”

  Fernando turned to see Barry, the owner, come charging from the back of the bar toward them. Had a shotgun this time. Fernando stood up and grabbed Renny who was ready to mouth off. “We’re leaving.” He dragged Renny toward the front door. All eyes were on them.

  “I want you scumbags outta here now! We don’t want your kind here in Jax!”

  Fernando pushed Renny out the door, followed by a pissed off Barry. Renny was yelling stupid shit as usual. They stumbled out into the heat, as far away from Barry and his shotgun as possible. The door slammed behind them.

  “We gotta find this Timmy. You know that, right?” Renny followed Fernando to the Taurus at the end of the parking lot. Kicked gravel around with his sneakers.

  “We already got an assignment.”

  “You serious? You’re such a fucking boy scout.”

  Fernando ignored him. Realized his phone was ringing. Veto.

  “Hey, boss.”

  “Where you shitbirds at? I’ve been calling since I got here.”

  “Here?”

  “Jacksonville, where else? Fucking sweat lodge this place is.”

  Fernando swallowed. If Veto was in Jacksonville, that meant one thing: they’d fucked up their job. “I didn’t know you were coming down here.”

  “Change of plans. We’re meeting with Sheldon Duplass at some place called Public School Number Four. Four o’clock today. We’re getting our prison transport contract back.”

  “Okay.” Fuck. Last thing Fernando wanted. Before Sinbad Trucking got into the toy hauling business, Veto hauled convicts for the Duplass family who owned sever
al prisons across the country. Until Fernando fucked that up when a prisoner on his watch escaped at a gas stop. Ended up getting killed. There was a whole investigation and Olivia Duplass yanked away their contract. A giant clusterfuck. Veto paid off who he needed to but never forgave Fernando for it. If he and Fernando weren’t childhood friends, Fernando would have joined Big Chris in the Delaware River. “What about Big Chris’s wife?”

  “What about her? Bring her.” A pause. “Tell me you got the bitch.”

  “We’re close,” Fernando lied.

  “Either you got her or you don’t got her.”

  “We’re chasing down some leads.”

  “Leads? You only need one. You talk to the cousin?”

  “Cousin?” Fernando regretted the words the instant they left his mouth.

  “You telling me you didn’t know the cousin lived out there?” Fernando heard muffled cursing. Went on for about thirty seconds but seemed more like five minutes. “Yeah, you imbecile, her cousin. Fiona. Jesus, I thought you had a brain inside that balloon head of yours.”

  Fernando said nothing. Rage and shame simmered inside but he tamped it down. Used to it over the years.

  “For fuck’s sake, I told Renny all this already.”

  Fernando looked at his partner who was pissing by a bush at the edge of the parking lot, whistling. “News to me, boss.”

  “I guess I gotta do everything. Yeah, apparently she lives out in the middle of nowhere. A goddamned swamp or something.”

  “We’ll check it out.”

  “One more thing. Find this Timmy Milici asshole. He’s with Sheldon’s niece, Melody. They’re hiding somewhere around here. Bring him to the meet dead or alive. I don’t care. But Melody’s gotta be alive.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “Bring them or else Sheldon’s calling the deal off. And I ain’t losing that contract again. I’m counting on you, Fernando. This is our one chance to get back in with the Duplasses. Don’t fucking disappoint me.” Veto paused. “Again.” He hung up.

  Shit. He turned to see Renny strolling up. Belched as he zipped up his pants.

  “That was Veto.”

  “Oh yeah? What’d he want?”

  “He’s meeting with Sheldon Duplass. We’re supposed to meet them at four o’clock. With Timmy Milici and Melody Duplass.” The sun beamed down on them, frying Fernando’s bald head. Coupled with the suffocating humidity and their new task, he felt like he was going to pass out.

  Renny shaded his eyes with his hand, blinking at Fernando. “You serious?”

  Fernando nodded. “Get them by four,” he repeated. Impossible. It was already noon.

  “I know you and Veto go way back, but c’mon, man. You’re his fucking lap dog. Treats you like shit.”

  Fernando frowned. His insides clenched. Didn’t want to hear it.

  “We get this guy ourselves,” Renny continued, “it’s our ticket to the big time.”

  Half a mil was a lot of money. Fernando could disappear with that kind of dough. Veto would never find him. Never make him drive a stupid prison van again. Wouldn’t have to drive for anyone.

  But what about loyalty? Didn’t that count for something?

  Renny waited. Eyeing Fernando. The air thick around them. Still.

  Fernando shook his head. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Let’s go to Crystal Kingdom first. See if we can get a lead on this asshole.” He opened the car door.

  Renny sighed. “Told ya you didn’t know how to have fun.”

  12 hours earlier

  It was a purple explosion in the house. Like Barney the dinosaur threw up all over the furniture. Purple couch. Purple pillows. Purple seat cushions. Purple rugs. Loree had no doubt this was her cousin’s place.

  “Fee?” Nothing. Typical Fiona, always leaving her door unlocked. Plus living near the edge of a swamp with no neighbors in a five-mile radius made you feel pretty safe.

  The heat was stifling. Loree flung open a window. Not much better. Hardwood floors creaked as she checked the whole place. One bedroom, one bath. Plants and candles everywhere. Colored rocks and crystals in shiny bowls. Meditation CDs scattered on the floor. Just like their Aunt Charlie. Loree could almost hear Aunt Charlie chanting “ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhm.”

  She missed that crazy old woman. Been three years since the funeral. As a young girl, Aunt Charlie was someone who’d both terrified and fascinated Loree with her doomsday premonitions and healing abilities. When cancer took a hold of her, she reminded Loree she wouldn’t be gone. Not really. As her spirit guide, she’d speak to Loree through the trees. The birds. The stars. All Loree had to do was align herself with the universe. Open up and pay attention.

  But it was all bullshit. Not one damn bird or tree has ever said anything worth listening to.

  Her stomach growled. She checked the fridge. Inside was beer and Chinese takeout containers. She took one out and sniffed it. Chicken chow mein. Using her fingers, she shoveled some into her mouth. It had been at least twenty-four hours since she ate. A week since she’d had anything not from a dumpster.

  She went to the bathroom. Stripped off her clothes and stepped in the shower. The hot water felt luxurious on her filthy skin.

  When she was showered and smelling like Fiona’s vanilla shampoo, she went to her bedroom. The air felt stale and suffocating in here too. She tried to pry open the window but it was stuck. She turned on a fan and lay on her cousin’s bed, closing her eyes. Her ears peeled for any sounds of a car pulling up.

  Maybe she was paranoid. But her gut told her that her whereabouts had gotten back to Ramon “Veto” Acevedo, the man of her nightmares.

  Despite the nagging fear, Loree fell asleep within minutes.

  12:50 p.m.

  The psychic place, Crystal KingdOHm—Fernando realized now why the bartender pronounced it funny—wasn’t open. He and Renny banged on the door that read Spiritual Guidance and Healing. They peered inside. A sea of purple. Purple carpet, purple curtains in the back, and purple chairs. Rocks of all sizes were scattered on a bookshelf. A massage table sat in the corner.

  “You looking for Fiona?”

  They turned to see an older woman smoking a cigarette outside the nail salon next door.

  Fernando and Renny looked at each other. “Fiona?” Renny asked.

  “Yeah, the young gal who runs this place. After cancer took her Aunt Charlie.” She shook her head. “Damn shame too. Everyone in Jax knew Charlie. Her healing power. Place used to have a line out the door. People with terminal illnesses, headaches, sick pets. That kind of thing.” She puffed on her cigarette. “Now it’s just tourists for psychic readings.”

  “When does she usually show up?” It had to be the cousin. How many Fionas were there in Jacksonville?

  “Oh she doesn’t really have a set schedule.” She eyed them suspiciously. “You boys looking for a reading?”

  “We’re desperate, ma’am,” Renny said. He pointed to Fernando. “His momma passed away and he can’t stop blubbering. Needs to communicate with her real bad. Was a momma’s boy, you know?”

  Fernando scowled at Renny. Realized the woman was scrutinizing him so he attempted to look sad.

  “Oh.” Her face softened. “Well, in that case, you could try her place. Everyone knows it. She does readings there sometimes. Just be careful. Road out there this time of year gets real mucky. Drive slow.” She paused. “Got a boyfriend too. Could be there but no idea where he lives.”

  Once they were in the Taurus and headed to Fiona’s place near the edge of a swamp, Fernando clocked Renny in the jaw. His hands flew up to his face.

  “Motherfucker! What’d you do that for?”

  “Don’t ever mention my momma again.”

  Renny nursed his jaw, glowering at Fernando. “I’ve a right mind to blow your goddamn face off.”

  Fernando tensed. Wondered for a second if Renny would. Guy sure was crazy enough.

  Renny opened and clos
ed his mouth, rubbing the side of his face. “You owe me for this, you sonovabitch.” He chuckled. “Fucking momma’s boy.”

  Fernando cranked up the radio. They didn’t say a word to each other the rest of the ride.

  2:30 p.m.

  Loree woke to muffled voices outside. She sat up, bleary-eyed and disoriented. Jesus, she slept a long time. Must be the heat. Or the exhaustion. For a second, she feared the voices were in her head. Fiona’s place was doing some kind of woo woo shit on her.

  Shuffling outside and more talking. Two men were near the front door. Loree was about to peer out the curtains when bam! Like the front door was kicked open. She sat up. Heavy footsteps. They were inside.

  She jumped out of bed and looked around. The stuck window was out of the question. Fiona had no closet, just a rolling clothes rack. Loree scooted underneath the bed on her belly. It was tight since the bed was low but thankfully Loree was skinny. She shrunk to the back wall as far as she could. Her hip bones dug into the hardwood floor as she lay still.

  “It’s her place, alright.” Nasally voice. “All purple.”

  “I’ll check the back rooms.” Low and deep. Sounded close.

  Clomping footsteps. The guy was coming to the bedroom. Loree dared not breathe. Clamped her hand over her mouth. Through the crack underneath the bed, she spotted muddy boots. Faded jeans. Heading toward her.

  The sound of a car outside. Door slamming. Boots stopped.

  “Someone’s here.”

  The boots turned around and headed back to the partner. Loree exhaled slowly. Her heart feeling like it was pounding in her eardrums.

  “Get down, man.” Loud whisper.

  Soft footsteps. A pause. “Hello?”

  Shit. Fiona. Door creaking. More footsteps. Then a scuffle. Yelling. Shouting.

  “Sit down, bitch!”

  “Jesus, Ren, take it easy.”

  “Who the fuck are you guys?”

  “You help us out and nothing will happen, miss.”

  “Help you with what? Get outta my house.”