Chapter 21: Gator Bait

When Willow left the bar, she drove down the road, pulled into a forgotten path that likely led into a farmer’s field. She’d stumbled upon the truck path earlier in the day and reconnoitered and its view of the bar. She cut the engine and headlights, praying the heat wouldn’t become unbearable. Despite her romp inside Theroit’s she still had work to do. She hadn’t learned as much as she would have liked. In fact, she learned nothing more than that Lenora was as crazy-eyed as people in town seemed to believe. And she learned that Bridgette, the more rational of the two was also likely crazier than her younger sister. There was a genius psychosis in Bridgette. Willow had seen similarities in cases involving serial killers. The Zodiac Killer, Green River, Son of Sam… Charisma, intelligence, and perhaps the most lethal was their patience. Willow knew she was playing a lethal game. And just for a story? Well, not just a story. This was THE story. This was the story that no journalist would take. This was a story even her editor divulged didn’t come with his full support. But Willow was used to danger. And as she collapsed the driver’s side chair lower into the back seat her mind raced with the possibilities of how corrupt a small town like Arcadia really was.

Ten long minutes after turning her engine’s off and as the sweat seemed unbearable, Willow watched Bridgette step out of Theroit’s. Willow’s view was encumbered by distance and several leafless and dying tree branches. But, in the brightness of the moonlight, and the soft orange glow of the parking lot, she could make out the tall, slender frame of Bridgette. The woman locked up the bar then climbed into a rusty white El Camino that had been parked on the far side of the lot. The El Camino’s lights came on, a hard rumble could be heard and then with a short spray of gravel from the tires, Bridgette drove off. Her taillights danced behind a thicket of trees and tall grasses, eventually dying away along bends in the road that followed alongside the bayou.

Willow drove the car out of the brush, daring not to turn on any of her car’s lights. Moonlight was her guide and she moved alongside the gas pumps where she parked and cut the engine.

Nervously she looked around, jumping each time she heard a splash in the water. There were no alligators in Afghanistan, and right now she would have welcomed the sound of bullets whizzing by as opposed to a gator rushing soundlessly toward her.

For a second, she felt guilty about snooping around the bar after sharing multiple orgasms and one hell of a cherry pie with Bridgette. But one fact was clear; Chance had been to the bar, and Bridgette and Lenora lied about it.

She wondered if Chase had had the same fun Willow did with one or both of the sisters. Did he feast on Bridgette? Did he fuck Lenora silly? What about Rachel and the uber sexy Jackson? Willow had to admit, she wouldn’t mind a romp with anyone of them, especially Bridgette, although next time not on top of a bar. Arcadia had its reputation. And Willow had experienced first hand why.

Her musings distracted her as she stepped deeper into the underbelly of the bridge. Her feet bumped into something and she scrambled back, jumping to her knees. She reached into the waistband of her jeans.

Nothing. The gun, the bat were both lounging in her SUV.

Her mind scrambled. Willow found her smart phone tightly lodged in her pocket. She flipped the flashlight app on. Immediately she found a pair of large eyes staring lifelessly back at her.

“Oh thank you,” she said relieved. She kept the flashlight on to examine the beast. A trail of blood ran from a deep gash in the side of the gator’s mouth. It pooled along the creature’s lifeless front foot. It had to be dead. The creature was huge. Longer than her car and half as wide. She looked around and found a long branch not far off. She knew gators were fast, but she also knew that she needed to know this one was dead. She couldn’t explore the area if she knew a creature this large was watching her and planning its next meal. From five feet away Willow tapped the long snout. Nothing. She pushed the branch up near the gash. Nothing.

Willow let out a long breath acknowledging that either one of those pokes would have in the least caused the beast to move. She tossed the branch to the side, placed her hand son her hips, and allowed her heart to regain its normal rhythm.

That’s when something grabbed her foot. She screamed and kicked out to release the grip, but it was too strong. She screamed again. “Bridgette!” She squealed. “Lenora!” She knew that either of them had the capability to stand there and watch her dragged into the water. But she had otherwise little hope. She called out their names again in panic. Her only defense was her phone. She swung it downward, the flashlight still on. She swung it wildly, still trying to break free. As she glanced down she realized that it wasn’t a small gator or a large snake. What was holding her ankle with such force was a hand. A human hand. A man’s hand.

When she stopped struggling the man let go. Willow stumbled back, flashing the light out in front of her and illuminating the man sprawled out on his stomach. He raised his head. He was caked in mud. Grasses clung to the remnants of his clothing. His groan was weak as he gasped for a full breath of air.

Despite the mud no doubt hiding hundreds of scratches and wounds, his disheveled hair, gaunt eyes, and bruising, Willow knew that he was a handsome man. But what in the world happened to him?

His blue dress shirt was tattered and torn, and blood seeped from multiple wounds on his torso and one leg. One eye was half closed and cut deep. He managed to feebly raise his right arm.

“Help me,” he croaked through chapped lips.

A pair of splashes came from behind her, and she turned to find two shapes floating her way.

“Hey, we gotta move honey,” she said tugging on his muscular arm. “Your too big for me to move you, can you stand?”

He nodded weakly, and she helped him get to his knees. She draped his arm over her shoulder. She was replaying the scene of an ambush she’s been caught in as a patrol of Marines were caught on multiple sides by the Taliban. She bent down to help a soldier stand. She was his crutch and they stumbled forward into a pile of protective boulders. The bullets slammed into the stones as they collapsed behind the safety. This time, there would be no gun fire. They were not being shot at with the intent of death. The two shapes drew closer. If they did not move faster, their stalkers would surely have the two of them slammed and buried deep in the water. Willow caught the two pairs of eyes staring back. The scent of malicious intent overwhelmed her.

Gators.

“What’s your name?” Willow tried to get the man moving. She needed him to be alert. Willow’s instincts took control. She hefted him up higher. The man’s shoulders were broad and heavy on her.

“Chay-sss,” he said in two breaths.

Ain’t this fate. “Well, Chase, come on, we have company coming.” She tried to pull him up higher and provide the leverage he needed to move quickly.

The two hobbled away from the bridge just as one of the gators reached the shore. Willow cussed and swung the light of her phone toward the gators. She knew that deer often were mesmerized in bright lights. Maybe gators were too. She didn’t turn back to check. She only prayed.

Chase stumbled to the ground. “No, no baby get up!” She shouted realizing they were half way to the car. “Do you want to be gator meat?”

“Been there,” he tried a laugh. Then stood up and began taking on more of his own weight.

The second gator crept onto shore, and Willow spun the light in its direction. Somehow the first gator managed to flank them and was moving between Willow, Chase, and Willow’s vehicle.

“Son of a bitch, they are flanking us.” She raised the phone again. This time the light was weaker. And then it went out.

“Oh this just keeps getting better,” she hissed.

The beasts growled, while the one behind her stepped forward.

“Chase, Rachel needs you!” she said in his ear. “I need you! Now stand up.”

At her name he found strength. The man grew more alert and looked at her with his one good eye. “Ra-Rachel i-is h-h-here?”

“Yes, and if you want to see her, get your ass up now.”

He rose to his feet, seemingly stronger now, and together they looked at the two beasts. Each measured about six feet in length, and were now less than an arm’s length away.

“Shit girl, think, think” she said out loud.

The beasts forced them back, pressing their backs against the gas pumps. One of the hoses fell to the ground.

“Just lean on me Chase.” She kneeled down, and picked up the handle, while her elbow pushed up the lever.

“Hope you boys like unleaded.” She said squeezing the trigger. Gas sprouted out, hitting both of the alligators forcing them both to retreat.

“Come on,” she urged, dropping the gas pump to the ground. Chase half walked and half allowed her to drag him to her car. She opened the passenger door, and shoved him in by his tight ass, before slamming the door and sprinting to the driver’s side.

“W-who the f-f-fuck are you, and wh-where the fuck is my f-f-fiancé?” Anger and blame were in his voice. He held out his hand as if he was holding a gun. He wasn’t.

“Dude, really?” she scoffed. One of the gators was already tentatively heading her way.

“My name is Willow Lane, and I’m a journalist. I’m investigating all the missing persons down here. Which at one point included you, and now includes your fiancé.”

“Where is she?” his hand wavered and he kept blinking quickly.

“I don’t know, but if you don’t let me into my car, I’ll be dead, and you’ll never fucking know,” Chase was pushing himself up, trying to block her way in.

He paused as the gator made it back to the pumps. “Where is she?”

She heard the snap of a stick behind her, and saw the high grass rustling, while the gator was moved past the pumps.

“All I know is she went to some house nearby. She found your cell phone and called me, but while we were talking the line went dead, and I haven’t heard from her since.” Her words were rushed.

She lost sight of the other gator, and the rustling behind drew closer.

“Chase please?” she begged.

“How do you know my name?”

“Oh fuck this,” she slapped his face. She’d seen it done before to smack sense into someone. It seemed to work. The gator snapped its jaws at the heels of her shoes as she leaped into her car, and slammed the door behind her.

“Asshole! I ought to kick your ass for that shit!” she yelled starting the car. She whipped the wheel to her right, and drove into the night.

Lenora watched the vehicle from a distance. She was hidden in trees lining the water. The gators hadn’t reached their target in time. Curiously, she recognized the body of the man everyone was looking for. The last time she’d seen him, Pappy was pulling him into the water. Days had past since then. How was he still alive?

Lenora stepped back, fading from the moonlight and gave a low whistle. Shortly after the attacking gators turned her way and began a slow meandering walk toward Lenora. The car’s lights were lost in the distance. Soon the gators came up to Lenora. Lovingly they brushed their firm skin against her legs and she didn’t flinch.

Lenora reached down, and as one would a dog or cat she gently stroked the length of one gator’s head.

“Photographer my ass,” she said matter-of-factly. Then pulled out her phone and pressed a speed dial button. “You gotta kill that bitch and get rid of her. You’ll never guess what the fuck just happened.