Billy: A Tale Of Unrelenting Terror (18 page)

"You gonna remember it again,
Skinny Mullet
," said Guidry. "Only dis time, you gonna remember it with pride."

"Look, there’s some rocks," Kenny said, pointing to some grey stone outcroppings on an island up ahead.

The sun was almost down by the time they drifted up to the island. The dark clouds and moss-covered trees made it almost pitch black, even in the twilight hours, but they made it before nightfall all the same. The crew retrieved their flashlights, and Kenny tied the boat to one of the nearby rocks.

"
Cho! Co
! There’s a name on this one," Kenny said. "Colette Deslautier. I can’t make out the rest. These rocks are tombstones; we’re in a graveyard."

"
Dit mon la verite
’," whispered Dennis. "Dis be da place."

Once the boat was secured, the crew slowly scanned the horizon, looking for any sign of the beast. It began to drizzle, so the men unpacked a few needed items and headed for the relative shelter of some nearby oak trees. Once under the giant canopy of moss-covered limbs, Kenny and Nick began to make a small fire while Guidry and Dennis kept a watchful eye.

"T’ink it’s a good idea to start a fire?" asked Dennis. "It’ll lead dat t’ing straight to us."

"Dat t’ing already going to find us here,
couyon
," Cap’n Guidry answered. "I doubt da fire gonna make much difference. Besides, we need to dry up a bit and get some warmth. Dese batteries ain’t gonna keep dese lights running all night. Dis way, we can save dem for when we need dem da most."

The crew sat around the fire, quietly listening to the sounds of the swamp while enjoying what little warmth the small flame provided. It was almost night time when they heard the distant sound of a gunshot.

"Hear that?" Kenny asked. "You think that was from the others?"

"Most likely," Nick answered. "I doubt if anyone else is this far out here, especially at sundown."

The men nodded in agreement. They knew that the stories of the monster kept all but the hardiest of fishermen and hunters out of the area, and even those weren’t about to come this far into the swamp in the dark. The Swamp Rats were on their own to the bitter end.

"You t’ink dey got it?" Dennis asked.

A few moments passed before they heard the unwelcome roar of the beast echo through the trees. The men’s hearts sank with the realization that their friends had run into the monster, and the monster had prevailed. If the creature was still alive, they all knew that chances were the other men weren’t.

"
Fils de pute
!" Cap’n Guidry spat. "I swear I’m gonna rip dat t’ing to pieces when I get my hands on it."

"It sounded like it was far off," said Kenny. "Maybe we’ll be safe through the night."

"Maybe," said Dennis, "but I ain’t countin’ on it. Dat t’ing ain’t natural. it’s some kind of demon. It’ll be here ‘fore long, and it’s coming for blood."

"
Tuat t’en grosse bueche
,
Skinny Mullet
!" said Cap’n. "It’s comin’ alright, but it ain’t no demon. Dat t’ing’s flesh and blood, same as us. Da only blood gonna be shed is dat t’ing’s blood."

Cap’n Guidry glanced toward the boat where his only son’s body lay lifeless in a zippered black bag. He cradled the shotgun in his hands before he continued, "Let it come; we waitin’ on it."

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Make the Misere’

B
efore long, night descended on the Swamp Rats. They took turns surveying the area, always going out two at a time and never traveling out of sight of the small fire that they’d built. Nick sat next to Cap’n Guidry, looking at the trees that surrounded them. He could see that the dark limbs of the massive oaks and the dense vegetation of the swamp were covering an even more ancient structure underneath. Nick remembered the words Margaret had spoken while under her trance, and he knew exactly what lay hidden in the dark.

He quietly whispered a name, "
Lost
Bayou
Plantation
."

Cap’n Guidry looked at the detective for a moment and let the distant memories of his childhood rise to the surface.

"Da House of Slaughter," he said.

Nick looked at the old man in the soft, dancing light of the campfire. Guidry’s hair was wet from the drizzling rain that fell gently through the trees, and he looked ten years older than he did just days ago at the start of their mission. Their mission, thought Nick. So much for that. Even he no longer cared if they found any trace of the missing kids. He knew what happened to them. The girl in the insane asylum already told them, they just refused to believe it. She’d been right about everything. Nick believed her now.

"It’s an old story dat my granddaddy passed on to me when I was young," Guidry said. "Just some old ghost stories to scare da children, keep dem from going out into da swamp alone. Haunted plantation from da old days. Supposed to be cursed, legend has it. ‘Twas a cruel place to be, even by da standards of da day. Old man run it gone
bracque
when his wife died, and when he passed it on to his bastard child, da man started torturing da slaves. Some tried to run off, but dere’s nowhere to go dis far out in da swamp. T’ings came to a head, and da slaves revolted. Back den, if da slaves fought back, dey would kill dem all, or worse. Story goes, dey kept to themselves, hoping no one would find out. No one ever came out here, so dey just tried to survive as best dey could. A flood washed away da road; deir boats sunk. T’ings got bad, but by den, dey was stuck. Dey had no way out, and most knew even if dey could make it out, dey’d be tortured and killed. So dey stayed put. When food got scarce, da stories say, dey turned on each other."

"Cannibals?" Nick asked in horror.

Cap’n Guidry nodded. "Dat’s what dey say. Eventually, dey all died, but never passed on, if you know what I mean."

"Ghosts," said Nick. He had never believed in the supernatural, but he knew that, just days ago, he didn’t believe in monsters, either. By now, nothing was off limits.

"Well, dat’s how dem stories go anyway," Cap’n said, then added, "At least, it kept us outta da swamp."

Nick laughed. "Yeah, I guess it did."

The rain began to come down harder, and Dennis and Kenny made their way back to the others. They all hunched over near the flame, trying in vain to stay dry. Flashes of lightning and bellows of thunder occasionally erupted throughout the night, startling the wet and frightened men huddled by the fire. The hours wore on without a sign of the beast.

"If it keeps coming down like this, the boat’s going to fill up and sink," said Kenny.

"Yeah, you probably right ‘bout dat," Guidry replied. "Best you go have a look."

Kenny got up, leaving the relative shelter under the oak trees, and jogged out into the rain to check on the boat. A flash of lightning lit up the sky, and a blast of thunder shook the wet earth below. Minutes ticked by, but Kenny never returned.

"Kenny," shouted Cap’n. "Hurry da hell up already!"

The men waited, but no reply came. The crew grew quiet and listened intently, but all was silent except for the sound of the falling rain and occasional boom of thunder. Gone were the sounds of croaking frogs and chirping crickets. The men glanced at each other, then back to where Kenny disappeared into the rain. Nick sighed with relief when the shadowy figure of their friend emerged from the darkness and headed toward them. A flash of lightning lit up the sky, temporarily illuminating the figure coming their way. The men looked on in horror. The approaching figure wasn’t Kenny.

"
Pic kee moi
!" shouted Dennis. "What da fuck?"

The men sprung to their feet and fired into the darkness. When the gunfire abated, they peered into the night, praying they would spot the lifeless body of the slain beast before them. Nick grabbed his flashlight and pointed it in the direction from which the figure had emerged. There was nothing there.

"
Merde
’!" Guidry said. "Not a goddamned t’ing."

"
Que c’est q ‘ca
?" shouted Dennis.

The dead leaves and grass around them suddenly came alive with the sound of something coming up fast from their left. The men turned and fired. Seconds later a round object rolled toward them, stopping at their feet.

"Motherfucker!" shouted Nick.

Cap’n Guidry felt his stomach wrench as he stared down at Kenneth Nunez’s decapitated head, its empty eye sockets dripping blood and brain matter and its mouth grinning wildly.

"
Oo ye yi
!" Dennis said. "
Pic kee toi
feet pue tan
! Fuck you, you goddamned son of a bitch!"

Panicked with terror, Dennis ran out into the rain and fired randomly into the surrounding bush. Nick instinctively dropped to the ground and steadied his firearm. He heard a horrendous shriek and saw Guidry fall to the earth.

"Aaaaaaggh!
Co faire
?," Cap’n shouted. "You done shot me, you goddamned
Skinny Mullet
!"

Nick crawled to where the old man lay. There was blood oozing from the right side of Guidry’s abdomen, and he held his side and moaned. Nick swung around toward Dennis, who was standing in the rain, looking at the damage he had caused.

"I’m sorry!" he yelled. "I’m so sorry, Cap’n. I didn’t mean it. It was an accident!"

Nick watched in horror as a figure appeared behind Dennis. He aimed his pistol, but was unable to get a clear shot without endangering the man. Nick shouted a warning to Dennis, but it was drowned out by a sudden crash of thunder.

"Dennis, look out!"

"I’m sorry," shouted Dennis again. "I swear it was an accident!"

"Dennis!" Nick yelled again. "Behind you!"

It was too late. Just as Dennis turned around, the monster was close behind him. Without hesitation, the beast swung his powerful arm at the man’s midsection, ripping a portion of his intestines out and spilling blood and internal organs onto the ground. With his other arm, the creature grabbed hold of Dennis’ wrist, causing his gun to fall uselessly away; then he ripped the man’s arm completely out of its socket. Dennis screamed in shock and agony, but his pleas were quickly cut off when the beast opened its monstrous jaws and bit the man’s face with its sharp, jagged teeth.

Nick pointed his gun toward the pair and unloaded his clip. When his gun was empty, there was nothing in sight but the bloody remains of Dennis LeFleur, torn to pieces on the wet earth, steam radiating off the warm flesh. Nick scanned the horizon, straining his eyes to see through the darkness and rain. He quickly reached into his jacket pocket, tearing open a waterproof bag and replacing the empty clip in his Glock. Looking around again, he saw no sign of the creature. Nick knew it was here somewhere, and it was going to come back for him. He scrambled back to Guidry’s side.

"Cap’n," he whispered, "you still here?"

"Yeah," groaned the injured man. "You bet your sweet ass I am. You see what dat t’ing did to LeFleur?
Fils de pute
! I ain’t never seen no t’ing like dat in my life."

"Me neither, Cap’n," Nick replied. "Me neither."

"Da whole time I be t’inking we trackin’ it, but it be settin’ its trap. You listen to me, Detective. Dis t’ing ain’t no ordinary animal; it’s clever. It outsmarted all of us."

Guidry grunted and clenched his teeth from the pain in his side, shifting his weight before continuing, "Now, it be well known dat da most dangerous animal to hunt is a wounded animal, ‘specially when it’s cornered. Right now, dat be me. I ain’t gonna make it out of here no how, but I ain’t lettin’ dat t’ing take me out neither. Here, take my shotgun."

Guidry handed Nick the only thing he had left in this world. "Now, you give me dat pistol. Dat t’ing gonna come back soon to finish us off. I’ll make some noise to distract it while you sneak over dere by dem rocks. Soon as dat t’ing makes its move, I’m gonna keep it busy. You run, and keep running. Don’t hesitate, and don’t turn around. Just keep goin’."

"But you saw what that thing did to Dennis," Nick pleaded. "There’s no way I’m going to leave you out here to die alone."

"I’m a goner anyway. Dat dumbass
Skinny Mullet
done shot me t’rough da liver. I ain’t got long. You just keep goin’. I’m gonna get dat t’ing, and I’m gonna get him good."

"I can’t do that, Cap’n" said Nick.

"Can’t?
Pic kee toi
! Do as I say!" Guidry replied. "Don’t you worry ‘bout me, Nicholas Vizier. I’ll keep one of dem bullets for myself, just in case."

"Just in case," Nick repeated, and the two men looked at each other and smiled, remembering the requested body bags before their smiles faded with the thought of Frank, Jr.’s mangled corpse filling the first one.

"You go on now, Vizier," said Guidry. "Dere’s not much time left. You make it out of here, and don’t ever look back. Dat t’ing come from hell, and I’m sending it back tonight."

Nick nodded. There was nothing left for him to say. He took Cap’n’s shotgun and crawled through the rain and mud until he got to the ancient tombstones that stood watch over the haunted island of Lost Bayou Plantation. Nick looked back toward the giant oak trees in time to see a blast of lightning flash across the sky. In the temporary radiance, the outline of the forlorn plantation house was clearly visible. The House of Slaughter, thought Nick; the name fit. Cap’n Guidry’s last words echoed in his head: "Send that t’ing back to hell". It’ll be a short trip, he thought. It’s already there.

Nick crouched silently amongst the tombstones and waited, keeping as quiet and still as he could, trying to fade into the shadows.

"Eeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaggggghhh!" the beast roared from a hidden spot near where Guidry lie.

Nick heard gunshots and ran into the darkness of the swamp. Just as Cap’n Guidry instructed, he never looked back and never returned to that haunted place again.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Mal Pris