The Swamp Killers

by Sarah M. Chen

“We’re looking for your cousin.”

  Loree sucked in her breath. Wondered if she’d left any of her stuff out in the living room.

  “Loree?” A pause. “Haven’t seen that bitch in years.”

  “What about Timmy Milici?”

  “Who?”

  “You gave his girl, Melody, a reading last night. Got her all upset. Where they staying?”

  “How the hell would I know?”

  Who are these guys talking about? Loree assumed they were Veto’s men but now she wasn’t so sure.

  “Thought you were a psychic. Aren’t you supposed to know these things?”

  “Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you assholes.” A laugh. “You two seriously think you’re gonna find them? Whole town’s looking for them.”

  “Let’s go, bitch. You’re coming with us.”

  “I ain’t going nowhere with you two shitheads.”

  Sound of a punch followed by a grunt. Loree flinched. Jesus, this was all her fault.

  “Pick her up. Help me get her in the trunk.”

  “That’s kidnapping, Ren.”

  “We don’t have a fucking choice. Hurry, before she wakes up.”

  Loree scrabbled her way out from underneath the bed. She peered out the curtains to see two men carrying her cousin to a filthy tan Taurus. Same one she’d seen a couple cities back. Definitely Veto’s men. Parked next to it was Fiona’s off-road pickup with big tires caked in mud.

  The men popped the trunk, threw Fiona inside, and slammed it shut. They got in the car and spun their wheels for a bit, trying to get out of the mud. The engine revved. Cursing came from inside the car.

  This was her chance.

  She dashed to the living room and looked around. Spotted a set of car keys on the counter and grabbed them. Before darting outside, she peered through the curtains. The taillights of the Taurus winked at her as it disappeared around the bend.

  Loree ran outside to the pickup and climbed inside. She turned the engine and spun the truck around. She hadn’t driven since Everton. Felt weird to be behind the wheel again. At least it wasn’t a fucking big rig.

  They couldn’t have gotten far. What she’d do once she caught up to them, she had no idea. But she was tired of running. Tired of being afraid. And now those assholes had her cousin.

  4:25 p.m.

  Public School Number Four turned out to be an abandoned elementary school comprised of several brick buildings surrounded by fencing. A few cars were parked along the quiet street, one a luxury sedan. Fernando wondered if that was Sheldon’s. No way was it Veto’s rental. Guy was a fucking cheapskate.

  Fernando circled until he spotted a dirt lot tucked away from the road filled with construction equipment. He parked next to a stack of lumber. The I-95 overpass loomed above.

  Renny and Fernando took a moment to gawk at the school. It looked like a giant Colonial fortress. The brick buildings were overgrown with moss and weeds. An American flag next to what Fernando assumed was the main entrance hung limply in the heat. It would have been a beautiful school if it wasn’t so dilapidated.

  Banging from the trunk. Muffled shouting. Renny chuckled.

  “Guess she’s awake. C’mon.” Renny grabbed his gun from the glove compartment and climbed out.

  Fernando joined Renny behind the car, his piece tucked in the small of his back. Traffic zoomed overhead. What sounded like “you cocksuckers” came from the trunk.

  Renny pounded on it with his fist. “Shut the fuck up, sweetheart, or I’m putting a bullet in you right now.”

  Silence.

  Fernando scanned the area. Spotted what he thought was a black pickup a block away but it disappeared down a side street. Something about it needled him but he didn’t know what.

  Renny pointed above them. “Even if she does yell, nobody can hear her with those cars whizzing by.”

  “We shouldn’t have done this, Renny.” Fernando shook his head. “This is bad.”

  “Well, whaddya suggest we do? Show up to this meet with no Timmy and no Melody? Lookin’ like a couple of dumbfucks?” He gestured to the trunk. “She’s a psychic, ain’t she? She knows where they’re at.” He shrugged. “Then we hand her to Veto. We don’t got Loree but we got the cousin. What’s the fucking difference?”

  “Whatever. We’re late. Let’s go.” No need to mention it was Fernando’s fault. Driving too fast. They’d wasted twenty minutes pushing the car out of the mud.

  They headed to the main entrance. The fence with Keep Out signs was low enough to scale but had barbed wire on top. Fernando found a mangled section and they crawled through.

  Public School Number Four was etched just above four giant white columns. A green fence blocking the doorway was moved aside. They squeezed past it, headed inside.

  “Jesus, look at this place,” Renny muttered. “Gives me the creeps.”

  Colorful graffiti peeked out from fresh coats of paint, like someone had attempted to clean it up. Pieces of rebar, lumber, and pipes littered the floor.

  They wandered down a long open corridor, their footsteps echoing. The fluttering of wings startled them. A giant bird with glowing yellow eyes swooped past, narrowly hitting them.

  “What the fuck was that? A bat?”

  “I think it was an owl,” Fernando said.

  Faint voices drew them to what looked like a wide-open courtyard. Brick walls with massive arched windows lined the length of it. The windows were broken, making them look more like doorways with a low wall running along the bottom.

  In front of one of the doorways, about twenty feet away, stood Veto with the biggest dude Fernando had ever seen. Like Mr. Clean and the Hulk had a baby and the baby ate them. He’d never seen Sheldon Duplass before but had heard the guy was built like a tank. That was an understatement. Veto—who was pretty intimidating himself—looked like Danny DeVito by comparison.

  “It’s about fucking time.” Veto glared at them.

  “This asswipe can’t drive worth shit in the mud.”

  Fernando narrowed his eyes at Renny.

  “Lay your pieces down. Slowly.” Sheldon’s deep booming voice matched his mammoth size. Southern accent.

  Renny and Fernando looked to Veto. He nodded.

  “Go on. It’s fine.”

  Fernando and Renny both pulled out their guns and bent down, laying them on the ground.

  “Now back away.” A pause. “Keep going. That’s good.”

  They stopped a good ten feet away from their guns. Jesus, this guy was paranoid.

  “Where’s Timmy Milici?” Sheldon asked.

  Renny and Fernando looked at each other. Renny licked his lips. “We got something better,” he said. “Got a bitch who knows where they’re staying. She’s—”

  Sheldon held his hand up. “You two the ones who drove the prison van last year with the escapee?”

  No way did Fernando want to admit it. Renny said nothing so he must’ve been thinking the same.

  “Yeah, it was these two idiots.”

  Fernando frowned. Thanks a lot, Veto.

  “Which one of you blew the bastard’s head off?”

  Renny—never one to shy away from boasting about a kill—raised his hand like a proud third grader. “That was me.” Jabbed his thumb at Fernando. “This loser here’s the one who let him escape.”

  Before Fernando could tell Renny to go fuck himself, Sheldon whipped out a gun from inside his coat and shot Renny in the torso. Renny stumbled back, his hands flying to his chest. It happened so fast, Fernando wasn’t sure if it did or not until he saw blood leaking through Renny’s fingers.

  “Jesus, what’d you do that for?” Renny stared at his bloody hands.

  “You’re the reason we had to deal with the feds, state police, and the family of that sonovabitch. You know how much money we wasted paying everyone off? How many people we had to threaten? Fucking pain in the ass.” Sheldon crossed the courtyard toward Renny with l
ightning speed, firing off another shot. This one landed right in the middle of Renny’s forehead. He teetered for a bit, then crumpled to the floor where he lay still.

  Sheldon swiveled his gun to Fernando who felt all the air leave his lungs. Those cold eyes penetrated right through him. He was going to die today. No doubt about it. Fernando braced himself for a bullet between the eyes.

  4:30 p.m.

  From the side street where she’d parked, Loree watched the two men climb through the fence and cross through overgrown weeds to the building with the flag. They disappeared inside.

  She got out of the truck and hotfooted over to the Taurus parked underneath the overpass.

  “Fee?” She pounded the trunk. “You in there?”

  “Loree?” Her cousin’s muffled voice. “Get me the fuck outta here.”

  “Hang on.” She looked around and spotted a pile of tools near a wheelbarrow. Grabbed a screwdriver and wedged it into the lock. Wiggled it around until she heard a click and the trunk flew open. Fiona burst out, tackling Loree. They hit the dirt, Fiona on top, hands around Loree’s neck, throttling her.

  “You goddamned crazy bitch,” Fiona screamed. “What’d you drag me into?”

  Loree clawed at her throat. She kicked her legs and squirmed, trying to throw Fiona off. She grabbed her cousin’s long black hair and yanked her head back. Fiona howled and released her grip, rolling off. Loree sat up, hands massaging her throat. She gasped and hacked. Spat into the dirt. Glared at her cousin.

  “I should’ve just left you in there to roast to death.”

  Fiona struggled to her feet, hair plastered to her sweaty face. She stared daggers at Loree. Her knees bled from kneeling in the dirt. “And I need to start locking my front door.” She eyeballed Loree. “Those my clothes?”

  “Maybe.” Loree stood up, giving Fiona the once-over. “Haven’t seen you since Aunt Charlie’s funeral. You got fatter.”

  “And you’re too fucking skinny.”

  Loree looked around for a weapon and spotted a shovel. It would have to do. She grabbed it and headed to where she saw the two men climb through the fence.

  “Where you going?”

  “To finish this.”

  “Hold up. I’m coming with you.”

  Fernando refused to close his eyes, meeting Sheldon’s cold gaze. Wanted to face his execution like a man. Like looking at the devil himself.

  “You seriously think I want to partner up with you again, Veto?” Sheldon bellowed without breaking his stare down with Fernando. Gun pointed at Fernando’s head. “That Olivia does? You that fucking stupid?”

  “It won’t happen again, Sheldon. I swear to you. It cost us too, you know,” Veto whined. “Shoot the sonovabitch.”

  Renny was right. Veto didn’t give a shit about him. Should’ve walked away when they had the chance.

  Fernando saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Behind Veto. Something fast. Like a large animal darting along the corridor. Or a small person.

  Veto kept groveling. “I got better guys now. Way tougher. Not like this pussy here.”

  Sheldon pursed his mouth. Looked irritated. His finger twitched on the trigger.

  The figure was now behind Veto. Fernando shifted his gaze to see what looked like a short dude or a boy lift something high overhead and slam it in Veto’s head. Veto crumpled to the floor. The figure whacked him again.

  Sheldon turned around. Fernando took that moment to launch himself at the massive man. The guy barely stumbled with Fernando—who was pretty big himself at two-fifty—latched on to his back. It was like hanging on to a house. He tried to break the guy’s neck or poke his eyes out—do something—but Sheldon spun into some kind of crazy cartwheel flip. Fernando clutched the dude’s thick neck, barely hanging on. Sheldon twirled like he was in a John Woo film.

  Whack! Something struck Fernando hard in the back. Felt the wind knock out of him. He released his grip on Sheldon. Unfortunately Sheldon was in mid-spin. Fernando went flying and slammed his head into a brick wall with such force, his entire body spasmed with excruciating pain. His vision blurred. Brick and debris pummeled him on the head, piling around him. Before he faded into oblivion, the last thing he saw was Sheldon doing a weird dance with a pole sticking out of his back, like a broken wind-up toy.

  Loree had no idea who the mountain man was but the motherfucker wouldn’t die. After her cousin drove the iron rod into his back, he’d flailed around a bit. Roared like a pissed off mountain lion as he fired at Fiona who’d disappeared behind an archway. He shot at Loree, but she’d tucked herself underneath Veto’s body, trying not to vomit. His head a bloody mess from bashing it in with the shovel.

  With shaking hands, she searched Veto’s pockets for a gun. Finally found one tucked in his stinky boot.

  “Dude, I didn’t mean to stab you,” Fiona yelled from the other side of the courtyard. “I ain’t that fucking dumb. I was trying to get the other guy. I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted,” the man said. “But I still have to kill you.”

  “What if I told you I know where Timmy Milici is? And your niece?”

  “I’d say you’re lying.”

  Loree grabbed her shovel and used it like a shield as she jumped over a low wall and huddled behind an archway, the gun in her other hand. A shot rang out. She dove down, felt a bullet whizzing by.

  She poked her head up. She hadn’t shot a gun since Everton but it felt natural in her grip. She fired off a shot at the man. He was big and slow now, like a wounded bear. Got him in the arm. He whirled around, grabbing his shoulder, and fired at her. She ducked.

  A warrior cry and then a crunch! Loree risked a look and saw Fiona wielding a long flat board. The man staggered like a drunk. A gash in his bald head. Her cousin swung again. He said something like “uuuuh.” Blood dripped down his face, but he remained upright.

  Like trying to take down a T-Rex. Loree took careful aim and fired off another shot. This time it caught him in the gut. He hunched over and staggered. Fiona got another good whack in. Sheldon crashed headfirst into the brick wall, a few feet away from the other big dude buried in rubble, with a boom!

  It was like an earthquake hit. The floor shook. The entire south wall of the courtyard collapsed bit by bit, like a waterfall, raining down on the two men until there was nothing but a pile of plaster and brick. The sound was deafening. Then silence.

  Loree could hear her ragged breathing as she stared. Waiting for the giant to burst from the debris like the Hulk. The only movement was clouds of dust floating up. Distant sirens broke the silence.

  “We gotta get outta here.”

  Loree ran after Fiona. Out the building to the side street. They dove into the pickup, Fiona at the wheel this time.

  They slumped in their seats, catching their breath. Loree was drenched in sweat.

  “Who the fuck was that guy?” Loree asked.

  “Sheldon Duplass.”

  “You mean the Duplasses? As in the mob?”

  Fiona nodded.

  “Shit.” Loree thought about it. “Nobody knows we were there.”

  Her cousin shook her head. “Nope.”

  “You think he’s dead?”

  Fiona nodded.

  Loree hoped so. And now that Veto was dead she was free. No more running or looking over her shoulder. Maybe she’d settle here in Jacksonville. Seemed like a good enough place as any. Had a rough start but things were bound to improve.

  Fiona started the truck and they pulled out onto the road.

  “Who’s Timmy? And Melody?”

  “Long story. But whole town’s after them.”

  “You really know where they are?”

  “Nah, made that up.” Fiona laughed. “That chick Melody? Came in for a reading last night. All fancy in a pink leather jacket. Told her to watch out for that boyfriend of hers. Her momma should too. And she’d end up with the gators in a swamp if she weren’t careful.”

/>   “The cards told you all that?”

  “Yup.” She shrugged. “But everyone knows it’s a bunch of bullshit. Aunt Charlie weren’t no healer or soothsayer.”

  Loree leaned back in her seat as Fiona hurtled the truck along the road, the sirens far behind them. She closed her eyes, listening to the humming of the tires.

  She had to disagree with her cousin. Since she’d come to Jacksonville, she sensed it. Something inside her had awakened. Aligned with the universe. Like Aunt Charlie was out there, speaking to her.

  The owl swooped across the ruins of the building that once held the school’s auditorium. Circled around and around until it alighted upon the remaining erect wall. The night was still, calm.

  Until movement in the pile of debris below. The owl cocked its head to one side. Observing, waiting. Hoping for a rodent.

  A hand poked through. Waved around. A shoe kicked out. Another hand.

  Once the owl determined there was nothing worth eating, it flew away with a screech, soaring into the night.

  Back to TOC

  Cover Everything

  J.J. Hensley

  When it came to realistic black-and-white work, Scott Courdin was the best in the business. He didn’t go in for the new school or traditional styles, although he certainly could pull those off given enough time and a customer who could hold still. No. Detailed portraits and intricate landscapes were among the reasons he was one of Miami’s most well-known tattoo artists, and why people waited months to get into his chair.

  He leaned down and shaded in another area. Perfect. Simply perfect. He knew it had to be. The subject who was facedown on the table had called three days ago, offering an obscene amount of money to jump the queue and have him create this large piece for her upper back. Six hours was the arrangement. The client said she had meetings scheduled with her lawyers and needed to have the piece done in six hours. Initially, he’d told the client the request was impossible. Impossible. Courdin knew the first two letters of that word could always be auctioned off. And they were in this instance.