Speaker 1: This podcast may not be suitable for young listeners.
Speaker 2: Steve Lily Episode eighteen, The Open Door, Part three conclusion.
The conference call ended and the team walked out to
the back porch, each man sitting in a ragged piece
of furniture obviously not placed there by Warren Banks for company.
Isabelle was the last settle down, and he pulled a
taco from his hoodie pocket and he crunched down on it.
I thought you didn't need that crap, asked Lewis. Yeah,
we made a special trip to get you ribs, boy,
Steve added. Isabelle crunched away lettuce and cheese hanging from
his mouth. He smiled at the others while he chewed.
He caught the fragments of taco bell and shoved them
back in. I see how you are, said Louis. That's
the last special food run I'm making for you. Don't
be mad at migo. The ribs didn't do it for me.
There weren't many in the sack. I got two ribs.
You ate a high for wreck before I could get
my claws on them. You did eat if you on
the way back to the house, Louis, Steve said Lewis
lowered his head in an admission of guilt. Steve Little
Cigarette leaned back on the porch couch and patted his belly.
I'm full hook stoodn't walked to the rail. What time
you want to head out tomorrow? First light sounds good
to me. It's just one We could sleep in if
you want to. But this should be a fast in
and out, said Steve. Let's go at first light, said
louis With this rain, the river's going to be boiling.
I want to have plenty of time in case we
have trouble. The team had struggled before in the main
channel of the river in a small boat. Steve's boat
was plenty big for all four men, but the current
would be strong, and they never knew what sort of
trash would be coming out of the north. The storm
had reached from Louisiana to Chicago. That was a lot
of water and trash it would have be coming south.
First light then, said Steve. I'm pretty tore down from
the day. I'm going to find a bed and get
some sleep now. Good job today, boys. This won't be
the big haul that I thought it would be a
couple of days ago, but we didn't get skunked. He
kicked a bag of heads laying beside the couch as
he walked toward the back door. Right now, we're at
twenty grand apiece. That's pretty good pay for three days.
The team knew he was, including the squatch that they
would hunt the next day. Four men hunting one creature
was a walk in the park to this crew, and
they knew it. None of them were upset over the
loss of the dead creatures the night before. They felt
like work would pick up now that the cold weather
had finally set in, and there was always money to
be made. Steve walked inside, found what he thought was
Julia's room, and he undressed down to his underclothes and
he flopped on the bed. The betrayal of Angela did
not cross his mind, and he was soon asleep. The
three remaining on the porch sat silent and rocked and
smoked and relaxed. The wind had picked up from the
north and the temperature had dropped, and Isabelle shivered and
pulled his collar up close to his ears. Louis and
Hook didn't move. Finally, dry weather had set in with
the high pressure system straight from the Arctic. The forecast
was for temperatures to be in the teens. The next morning,
Louis flipped a butt out into the yard and turned
to Hook. Who is Agatha? Hook knew the question was
coming about her and other things that had been hinted
at over the last two days, and he knew the
others needed an explanation. The four men had become close,
and they knew what they needed to know about each
other to develop a level of trust, but they didn't
know everything. Hook made the call to tell the whole story.
If he didn't address it now, it would start to
whittle away at the others, and distrust would creep its
way into the relationship they had formed naturally. Steve and
I have known each other from high school. Now Agatha
is a small part of a big story going back
forty years. Hook spent the next two hours telling the
others the history of Steve's life, at least the parts
he knew. Jane McAllister left her home in midtown Memphis
and drove to meet friends for lunch at the Walnut
Grove Country Club, a date she never missed. Her housekeeper, Sarah,
had followed Jane to the edge of the porch where
Dane left instructions for her to have the desserts ready
by two pm. Her and her friends would drive back
and spend the afternoon meeting over a country club gala
scheduled two weeks away. They were the planning committee. Sarah
turned to go inside. She closed the door from the inside,
and she saw a ragged sedan sitting in front of
the gate at the street. Smoke bellowed from the car's
exhaust and it rumbled and coughed, and she could see
a woman in the passenger seat with a toddler in
her arms, just having car trouble. I hope they don't
come up here and want to use the phone. Sarah
closed the door and walked to the kitchen to finish
the desserts to place them in the refrigerator. She walked
back to the front door to get the mail, and
she opened it and she stepped outside, almost tripping over
a child sitting on the porch, nothing but a little
boy around a year and a half old, wearing nothing
but a diaper, A full diaper. Oh Lord, she whispered.
Sarah picked the boy up, walked around the porch looking
for someone she knew would not be there at the
end of the walk on the street and through the gate,
nothing but passing cars. Those trashy white people in the
car sitting there waiting on me to go in so
they could drop this baby and leave. Sarah tightened her arms,
pulling the baby's head close, and she let her lips
press the crown of its head as she ran her
hand down the back of its head. He was dirty,
but still smelled like a white baby as she went inside,
and she closed the door. When the water was warm,
she dipped him in the sink and washed him, and
then dried him with a kitchen towel and rubbed baby
powder on the rash from sitting in shit for She
didn't know how long another dish towel would do until
she could go out for diapers, and it was midsummer,
so she thought that that would be enough, so she
let him crawl on the floor while she set the
table for dessert for the women's committee. Miss Jane came
through the door talking with the other women and settled
them in the dining area, and she walked into the kitchen.
Sarah sat at the kitchen table feeding the baby mashed
green Peas the boy looked at Miss Jane, he raised
his arms up and down with peas covering his mouth,
and he jabbered, Sarah, I know, Miss Jane. I walked
out to get the mail, and this child was on
the porch. Now we're never gonna find his mama. They're
done gone. I don't know what we're gonna do. The
hesitation was brief. Jane had more pressing issues on her mind,
so she said, now you keep him occupied, and you
keep him quiet if you can, and we'll deal with
this when the women leave. Yes, ma'am. He seemed happy
getting some food. Well, we'll work it out. I'll serve
the dessert. You just sit right there and you keep
him quiet. They and the icebox, Miss Jane, they're ready
to go. Roman McAllister stood in the warehouse of Delta
Cotton Incorporated and watched the last bales leave the door.
The season was complete and the last bales of low
quality cotton had just rolled out the door, and he
looked around the empty warehouse with satisfaction, knowing he had
gotten through one more year with his head above water.
Roman gambled, and he was a bad gambler. Otherwise his
business would be thriving. Getting by one more year was
enough for now. He owed people money, and he owed
the wrong people money. Illegal gambling operations in the Delta
were low profile but common from kro Illinois south to
the Gulf of Mexico. These operations sucked farmers, businessmen, and
the average paycheck to paycheck worker in taking all they
had and funneling the cash to Memphis into the hands
of the Southern Mafia, unofficially known as the Dixie Mafia.
They were ignored by law enforcement unless there was something
they couldn't ignore. Roman was a bad gambler, but was
also a good negotiator, and he had worked a deal
to pay his debt through services to the mob. There
was no way he could come out ahead, but he
would keep his business in his lifestyle. What he didn't
count on was the fact that they would never let
him out of this deal. But he didn't know that yet.
He walked towards the stairs to his office and said,
maybe another year and I'll be out of the woods
with these people, a thought that he would forget on
his next trip to the barge tied up to the
flood channel of Tunica cut off. I can wind myself
out of this. His secretary transferred a call from his wife.
She told him about the boy who had been left
on the porch and that she was calling the police. No,
don't call the police, he said. To have the police
involved in any way would draw attention to him. It
wasn't the gambling that would get him in trouble. It
was the bales of marijuana that he hid inside the
bales of cotton that he was moving through his brokerage
firm for the people he owed to have his debts settled. Roman,
Now we have to call the police. This is a child.
You know why we can't call them, honey, But that
has nothing to do with this, she said. How would
the police connect the two? I don't know, but I
don't want them near the house or the business or
either of us. We'll have to think of something else.
They kept the child and they named him Gabriel. Roman
arranged for a social Security number, a fake birth certificate,
forged to adoption papers through nefarious connections, and none of
the documentation would be questioned. They announced to their friends
and family that they had decided to adopt a child,
and at the age of thirty five, Jane now had
a family, and it worked to elevate Jane's popularity in
the socialite circles, Gabriel became a prop Gabe McAllister grew
up with two younger brothers, children Jane had years after
finding Gabe on the porch. He went to private schools,
but in high school was sent to the Memphis public
school system. He displayed behavioral problems in junior high, smoking
outside at lunch break and fights in the halls, and
a general attitude that he wasn't taking one bit of
shit off. The preppy boys had gotten him kicked out.
With two younger, well behaved boys, Roman and Jane pushed
Gabe to the side. He had become an embarrassment. Gabe
adjusted to the public school system and excelled in sports
and made friends and was an average student. During the summers,
he worked at his father's business in the warehouse, moving cotton.
Gab McAlister was an average, happy sixteen year old boy.
Roman had never escaped the clutches of the heavy cloud
of gambling that hung over him in his business. He
kept gambling like they knew he would, going deeper into debt.
Seventeen years of being under the thumb of organized crime
had turned Roman's optimistic outlook on life and business and
family to a dull, gray depression. He didn't like his
life or himself. With the debt ever increasing, the things
the mob had him do kept pace with his debt.
They were now not only moving hundreds of pounds of
marijuana and cocaine through his cotton export business, but they
had employees of the Delta Cotton Company making deliveries in
muling loads from pickup points to drop off points. When
they ran short on mules, Roman was called on to
send a driver to Florida or Louisiana to grab waterproofed
veales dropped from planes. It was out of hand and
a matter of time before Roman went down for all
these crimes. It had not rained in six weeks. The
August sun was relentless in the mid South, and the
colors of summer had been transformed to look like the
southern California desert when it should have been green. Gay
McAllister sat in the empty cotton warehouse hoping for a
breeze to blow through the open doors. He had two
hours left before he got off. A truck pulled into
the warehouse and two men got out and loaded tarps
in the bed and weighted them down with a piece
of steel. Hey, Gabe, are you bored, asked one. Yeah,
I'm bored and hot. You're heading to Tunica. Won't you
ride along with us? Least you'd get some wind in
your face. It's hotter and shit in here, said the other.
Your old man won't care. I think you're the only
one here now. I gotta lock everything up in a
couple of hours. I can't leave, said Gabe. Who's been
in here today? Nobody said Gabe. Ain't nobody coming, gavee
lock it down and go with us. Don't you get
out a little? The Delta Cotton Company employed twenty two
men for labor, two buyers and sellers in the office
in one secretary during the busy season, which was two
months away. The two men in the truck were on
the payroll, but never worked at the company's warehouse. Gabe
had gotten to know them, and he liked these guys
and Daylight Gabe. Gabe was there to keep the warehouse
swept and organized, and he helped after school when the
cotton started arriving in October. It was a job his
father thought would keep him in line during the summer.
Gabe liked the money, but wished he had something better
to do with his time. He wanted to get out
and no one would know that. He closed the place
down on Friday afternoon before official closing time. The truck
was equipped with air conditioning, so the ride down Highway
sixty one was a relief to Gabe. They crept over
the levee and headed to the cutoff, where a boat
had been pulled up in the mud, the water so
low that the ramp was not in the water. On
the north end of the cut off, the men motored
the boat into an ancient creek that Gabe thought went nowhere,
and it opened up into a large pool of water.
In the distance, Gabe could hear a pump running with
a long hose, pumping water from the ditch and dumping
it into the pool. If the resurrected gambling barge had
not been there, Gabe thought it would have been one
of the most beautiful places he had ever seen. Cypress
and oaks and willows surrounded the small open area, and
the fluorescent green grass had grown in the mud where
the water should have been. Wildflowers and blues and yellows
covered the area like a carpet, and The hum of
pollinators flying from one flower to the next by the
thousands created a sound that Gabe had never heard before.
The drought had spared this place. Gabe, we got to
go in there and pick up some stuff. It's going
to take about an hour. Now. You can sit here
and wait on us, or you can wander around. But
stay off that barge. It's not a place for kids,
you understand. He watched the men cross a floating bridge
and go inside the structure built on top of the barge.
Gabe went the other way, following a dusty path into
the timber that during most years held water. Butterflies attached
themselves to his shirt, and they did not scare when
he reached to give them a perch on his finger.
Gabe watched other insects that he didn't even know existed.
Bullfrogs croaked during the day, and snakes crawled in the distance.
The white egrets and blue herons plumage contrasted with deep greens,
and songbirds chirped and sang, with their calls echoing in
the hollowness of the flatlands. I walked into an enchanted forest,
and I don't want to leave this place. Gabe thought.
He checked his watch. He had forty five minutes to
walk around, so he kept going ahead. A ragged leaning
shack stood on poles to keep it out of the
water that was not there. An aluminum ladder stood against
the porch and was the only way to reach the shack.
He began to climb the ladder, and he hollered to
let whoever live there know that he was in the yard.
The footsteps on the plank floor coming outside, and Gabe
kept climbing. With his eyes level with the deck. He
saw a man's feet shod with a pair of wingtips
that were not worse of being on any human's feet,
and fat, hairless, sockless ankles plunged into the shoes, and
at the top were short pants, where Gabe could see
from below that the man wore no underwear, and above
that his belly hung below the hem of his shirt.
He was the dirtiest man Gabe had ever seen, and
he stanked. Hey, mister, I saw this place. I didn't
know anybody lived here. I'm sorry to bother you. I'll
get going, Gabe said, turning to head back down the ladder. Well,
what are you doing here, the man said? He rubbed
the weak old whiskers on his chin, and scales fell
from his chin, and Gabe thought that the guy had
a terrible case of dandrufh on his face. He was
ready to get away from the slob, and that inner
voice kept saying, get out, get out. I just came
with some friends. They had to pick up something at
that BArch back there. I didn't want me going in
with them, so I'm just walking around. Gabe made one
step down the ladder. I said, who are you. My
name's Gabriel McAllister. The filthy man tried to laugh, but
it turned to congested coughing and spit wads of phlegm
that flew over Gabe's head. You Roman McAllister's boy, Yes, sir,
what hell come on in? I thought you was a stranger.
The shack was remarkably organized and looked to Gabe like
it was regularly swept out. A desk and a chair
sat to the left of the door, and an old
fabric couch to the right, and the camp stove sat
on a table in the middle, surrounded by cans of
sardines and spam and viannas and crackers, and under the
table were buckets of drinking water. Beyond the table was
a wall with one door that Gabe knew did not
lead out the back. It was another room. I can
barely see you, boy, So I'm going to go out
and start that generator so we can have some light
in here and have a proper conversation. Now, if you'll
stay put, I'll be right back. It took the fat
man a few minutes, but gave heard the diesel start.
He had not noticed the generator when he walked up.
The lights in the place came on and gave herd
moans and cries from the door that divided the shack.
The sounds were unsettling, and gave back up to the
front door, but the sounds continued and he knew someone
was in pain back there, so he opened the door
and he walked in. The odor of shit in the
sharp smell of rancid urine hit him in the face,
and he stopped and then walked further in, reaching a
light switch on the wall. Chain link fencing formed a
hallway to the back of the shack. He counted six
gates to six stalls, and he heard someone move. Small
fingers hung in the fencing and pushed and pulled, and
a broken female voice said, get me out. Gabe walked
to the gate looked at the woman. She was no
more than seventeen or eighteen. He thought, what's going on here?
He's got us locked up and they're gonna sell us.
Please get me out. I have a baby at home
and I haven't seen her in a week. Get us out.
What are you talking about? Asked Gabe. Two more girls
walked to their gates and their own cells, both begging
Gabe to release them. The two men Gabe had ridden
with to the cutoff had loaded the boat with product
and sat on the edge of the boat waiting on him.
Where the hell is he? Why am I supposed to
know that we can't leave without him? Well, no shit,
he'll be here, man. That kid just wanders around you
ever watched him look at bugs and frogs, just around
the warehouse. He's a nerd. Let's give him ten minutes
and then we'll go look for him. They didn't have
to wait. Down the path, they saw Gabe walking and
four women staggering down the path. Two had one arm
across his shoulder and the other two could barely keep up.
The drug mules jogged over and helped the two stragglers
to the boat. Gabe, what is this. Get him in
the boat, let's go, Gabe said. Wait man, we need
some more information on this. Who are these women? Get
him in the fucking boat, and let's go, Gabe said.
The mules shrugged at each other, and they helped the
young women into the boat and pushed away from the bank.
With the added weight of the product and four women,
Gabe had to get out and push them to deeper water.
The motor was lowered into the water and they trolled
back out into the old river channel and back to
the boat ramp. One of the mules waved at someone
far up on the bank. A black man waved back
and pushed a switch on an electrical box, and the
cart used to lower boats down to the bank and
into the water began moving. When it had reached the
water fifty yards down the bank, the mules loaded the
bales onto the cart and waved again. The cart retracted
up the bank and the black man disappeared, and the
mules tied the boat up and helped the women up
the steep boat ramp to the truck and loaded their
product into the pickup. Tell us what's going on, Gabe.
They had them locked in cages and an old shack
out in the swamp. I couldn't leave them, he said.
The mules now knew what was happening. They had time
to look the girls over. The odor coming off of
them was bad, and they were filthy. You know what
this is, right, one of the mules asked, Gave. I
think so, I just couldn't leave them there. Well, we
can't leave here with these people, gave. They're gonna kill us.
I get it. Look, take me into town and drop
us off. You can head back and just tell my
father that I was never here. Is there a payphone anywhere,
said Gabe. It's a payphone up at the bait shop,
said one of the meals. Good, get them in the truck,
cover them with the tarps if you have to, All right, man,
But we drop all of you off in town. There's
a place behind the blue plate that we can do
it without anyone seeing. And then you're on your own.
And you did not come down here with us, I understand,
said Gabe. You got a quarter. Gabe called his friend
Hook Johnson. They went to high school together but had
known each other since elementary school. Two boys from different
sides of the track, but many things in common. Hook's
father was a member of a motorcycle club in Memphis
and was familiar with the nefarious side of society. Gabe
knew Hook and his father might be able to help.
Hook met Steve behind the Blue Plate Cafe in Tunica,
and the car switch went as planned. With the help
of his father, Hook had arranged for the girls to
be dropped off at the motorcycle club chapter clubhouse. The
women of the club members would know what to do
with them, and then Hook drove Gabe home. On the way,
Gabe told Hook the story, Well, I walked into that
back room. You wouldn't believe the way this guy was
keeping these girls. They were living in their own shit,
and I don't think they'd been feding days. Well, one
of the girls was so afraid of this guy. Her
eyes were full of tearns. She kept begging me to
let him out. She said that he had been having
his way with him. If you had seen this guy,
you'd know why they were afraid Hook. When that fat
man came in and he saw me back there with
these girls, he was pissed. He grabbed me and he
was trying to throw me out. He kept saying stuff
about my dad being a degenerate gambler and that they
owned the family. I sort of know what he was
talking about. I just didn't know it was that bad.
Then he reached into a drawer in that desk and
he pulled out a gun. He put the muzzle in
my forehead and said he's gonna shoot me if I
didn't get out, and that I'd better keep my mouth
shut or my whole family would die. He had me
backing out on the deck. I was getting close to
the ladder. I was about to jump off the deck
when he tripped on something and the gun landed right
at my feet. So I picked it up and I
blew his brains out. He was going to kill me, hook,
I know he was. Hook drove without either of them
saying a word. When he pulled up to Gabe's house,
he said, you're in some deep shit, Gabe. You know
what you did, don't you. I got those girls out,
that's all I know, and I don't feel anything about
killing that nasty bastard gave those girls. Are horse Man
gonna be whorse they catch these women out in town.
They're already prostitutes working on the street, or there's some
chicken into some bad spot. They have a million ways
to get these stupid girls to go with them. They
chain them up like that and they deprive them of
food for a while, and then they get them hooked
on dope. That way, they stick around for that fix.
They pimp them out. That's big business. I don't think
the MC club does that shit. That's that group from
West Tennessee and North Mississippi. They're ruthless people. I heard
my father talk about him when his buddies are over.
They don't get along with that bunch at all. You're
in a world of shit. Man, How will they know
I was even there, asked Gabe. Too many people involved,
said hook, somebody's gonna talk. Just keep your head low
and act normal. That's all I can tell you. I'm
gonna run this by my dad. He won't say a word.
The MC club might even make you a member for
doing that shit. I just want to finish school and
get a job, said Gabe. Well, I don't know how
that's going to work out for you. You kill the guy
in their organization. They don't ever let that shit go. Man, okay, well,
thanks for coming to get us, said Gabe. I might
be in the same shit as you for doing this.
I need to talk to my old man and see
what to do next. Get on in the house. I'll
be in touch. Gabe got out of the car, more
worried than ever, and he walked through the yard, up
on the porch and inside, and he watched hook pull away.
What have you done, asked Roman. Gabe told him the story.
I didn't have a choice, Dad. They're going to kill you, Gabe,
and I don't know how to protect you, said Roman. Okay,
I'll leave tonight. I may have a place to go
for a few days while I figure this out. Gabe
didn't want to get into the fact that none of
this would have happened if his father hadn't gotten so
deep with the mob. What would have been the point
it was done and he had accepted that his life
was about to change forever. We may have to go
with a crazy story, Gabe. Maybe you ran off and
enlisted in the Marines. If we can keep that story going,
it should buy you a few months or some story
like that. I'm not sure yet. Now here's some money
you're going to need it. Roman handed Gabe an envelope
filled with cash. There's something else I need to tell you,
said Roman. You know you were adopted, but we've never
told you the story of how that happened. The truth
is is that you aren't legally in our custody. You
were left on the porch. We kept you with us,
and we raised you. The adoption documents are forged. Your
Social Security number is in your name, and it's real.
This might help you into the population. I know that
isn't much help, but you needed to know. Gabe knew
he was adopted, but had never spent time thinking about it.
Life had been good being raised as a McAllister. Why
go deeper to find out who the sorry people were
who abandoned him. You have another name, given to you
by your mother, but we didn't have a way to
know what it was. I don't know how you will
ever know what that name is, but if you do,
you already have another identity. Now you can move away
and start a new life. You can't show your face here,
at least for a few years, never in the name
Gabriel McAllister. Gabe knew what his father meant, and he
had thought this through at least to that degree. I'll
be okay, said Gabe, and went to his room and
gathered his clothes and stuffed them in a gym bag.
He didn't stop to say goodbye to his mother or
his brothers. He called from a phone on the sea
floor of the house and ask Hook to come pick
him up. I gotta disappear, Hook, he said, Can you
give me a ride to the bus station? Be there
in ten minutes, said Hook. Instead of driving, gave to
the Greyhound bus station on Union. He pulled into the
MC clubhouse. What are we doing here? Go in. They
know you're coming. They'll put you up for a while
and feed you and help you figure out what to do.
I think my father has a plan. They'll meet about
it tomorrow or the next day. You'll be in that meeting.
They're gonna help you, Gabe gab reached over and put
his arms around Hook's neck. Damn get off me, man,
said Hook. I love you, Harold Johnson, thanks for this.
Thank my father when you see him, and don't let
any of those biker chicks get too fresh with you, brother,
Hook winked at his friend. Gabe walked to the clubhouse
entrance and the door opened before he got there. They
were waiting for him. The meeting didn't happen until the
third day. Gabe was going stir crazy in the party
area where the club members ate and drank. The place
spelled like smoke and vomit covered with a daily spray
of life saw. But the area where Gabe had slept
and where the offices and meeting room was located was nice.
Bunk rooms lined one hall, the bathroom and a shower
at the end of the hall. Gabe stayed in his room,
especially when the club members started filing in around dark
each night. Loud parties had happened each night, and they
didn't end until daylight. He wasn't getting much sleep. Just
before noon on the third day, Harold Johnson Hook's father
leaned in around the doorjam and told Gabe to follow him.
The contrast between the meeting room and the rest of
the club house, Struck gave is amazing. It was the
nicest and most well furnished room he had seen outside
his mother's decor at home. He liked the meeting room better.
Around the table and waiting for him were five full
patch members of the motorcycle club and one lower level member,
Take a seat, Gabe, said one of the bikers, and
Gabe sat down and waited. Harold Johnson Senior spoke first,
we aren't going to waste your time going through what's
happened to you. We know the details. Unless you have
something to say. No, sir, if you know, then you know,
said Gabe. There are two ways to handle this game,
said Johnson. One, you can walk out that door and
go your own way. You might want to do that
at this point, but I advise you not to do it.
That organization will find you within a week. All it
takes is some attic who sees you. They tell another
and then they tell their to get a free fix,
and then straight to upper management. It won't be long
until you're snatched off the street or out of a
motel room and taken away. Nobody'll ever find your body
and you'll be forgotten in a week. Or you can
do it our way, but you might not like that either,
because it won't be easy, and if we do this
for you, you will be in our debt. You're going
to have to choose. Now. Before I explain what option
two is, I'll take option two. Gabe didn't let a
second pass before he answered, and then he remembered that
his father was in debt to the organization, and he
wished he would have pushed for just a little more information,
but it was done now, and he sat up in
his chair and he listened. Tonight, you're going to go
with mister Smith here, Harold pointed to the lesser ranking
members sitting to his right. It'll be a long trip
and one that you won't understand until you get there,
and maybe even then you'll want to back out where
he takes you. You'll have to stay for at least
three years where until this blows over. Gabe sat there,
looking from member to member. He took a deep breath
and was about to ask some questions, like where am
I going? But he didn't because Johnson cut him off
and slid an envelope across the long table. Gabe looked
at it and then back at Johnson. Open it, read it,
he said. He opened the seal and removed several papers.
The first was a legal document, a birth certificate, which
Gabe had never seen before. Also included were a social
security card, a driver's license, school transcripts that even showed
that he had graduated high school. The driver's license and
the transcripts from the school are fate, Gabe, along with
some other things in that envelope. But the birth certificate
and the so security card are real. They're yours. That's
who you are. Gabe stared across the long table at
these men who were used to all of this shady stuff.
Nothing going on in that room had them the least
bit faced. Just another day in the criminal world. But
these criminals were helping him, a sixteen year old punk.
Why are they helping me? He tried to look down
and read the papers, but he wasn't sure he wanted
to know. After another look around the room, he lowered
his eyes and he read, and he tried to restrain
the tears in front of these rugged men, but it
was not possible. All right, stop the dramatics. One of
the men said, half of us have no idea who
our mother is. You're one of the lucky ones. I
don't think we really want to know our mothers anyway.
To be honest, now, when you hear the story, you
may not want to know. But we're giving you this
information because it saved us money creating forged documents that
would give you an alias. Son you were born with
an alias, and nobody knows who you are. You'll get
older and begin to look different. You might want to
grow out your beard to cut your hair, But in
three or four years you should be able to come
out and live a normal life. That is, after you've
settled your debt with us. By the end of that
Gabe had stopped crying. He wiped his eyes and he
read the birth certificate. It read certificate of birth, State
of Tennessee. Name Stephen Jamison Lily, mother Wanda Medline, father
Joseph Edward Lily. My name is Steve Lily, said Gabe.
That's a good name. Your father was a member of
this club. He died in a car accident in sixty eight,
eight six years after you were born. We lost touch
with your mother. She could be here and alive. We
don't know. How do you know all this about me,
asked Gabe. Joe Lily was a member of this club,
said the oldest member at the table. We know almost
everything about our members, good and bad, and trust me.
He and your mother did you a favor by leaving
you at the McAllister house. You had a better life,
and your father and your mother were both heroin addicts.
They had no way to care for you, and we
forced them to give you up, and we knew the
mccallisters would do the right thing. From now Ford, you
will be called Steve. The name gave McAllister will not
be spoken within these walls or by the men sitting
at this table. You should never say that name again either,
because all it'll take is for you to tell some
whore you're lying around with or some dude you're having
beers with, and it's over. They'll get to you. Are
you following how serious this is? Yes, sir, Harold Johnson
finished the meeting. Steve, You're going to need to leave
everything on this table that identifies you as Gabriel McAllister.
I mean everything. Gabe flipped his wallet across the long
table to Johnson. Check your bag. Make sure nothing in
your bag will reveal your identity. If your name is
written into the waistband of your underwear, I want it,
I will, said Gabe. Are we done here, Harold asked
everyone in the room. The men at the table nodded,
Get your shit together, Steve, You and mister Smith will
leave at midnight, Yes, sir. They drove until daylight taking
only the back roads. Steve didn't know where they were
and he would never be able to backtrack and get home.
And it set in that he was going away to
a new world and a new life, and he would
never return. So he settled in the seat and stayed
quiet and spent the hours getting used to that idea.
A hurricane had moved north from the Gulf and was
pushing storms up the Mississippi Valley. Smith hoped the rain
would hold off until after they were moving down the river.
The dirt roads would be a problem, and he didn't
want to walk. After crossing the levee and leaving gravel
roads and onto the dusty dirt logging roads, they crossed
through a gate, Steve getting out, opening a padlock and
then closing it and relocking it. When Smith pulled through
two more gates later and they stopped beneath the canopy
of ancient trees, and a thick cloud of dust fell
across them and the car and Smith got out and
retrieved a rifle from the trunk and walked through the
tangle of vines until a worn trail came into view,
and Steve followed. The trail seemed to go on forever
for Steve, and it ended at a bluff looking down
into the Mississippi River, slowly moving below them, bowling and
churning like it had for a million years. Lightning hit
a tree on the far bank of the river, and
thunder followed, and the rain started to fall, and Steve
thought it felt ominous and dangerous, but this was better
than getting shot in the head and dumped in a
shallow grave. He followed Smith down the bank, where the
trail led them to a creek, and they moved away
from the river into a boat deeper in the trees.
Smith removed the tree branches used to conceal the boat,
and he boiled water, and he handed Steve a coffee
can and told him to boil water. And when the
boat sat higher in the water, he started the motor
and trolled into the current of the Mississippi. The rain
fell harder for hours. They motored as fast as the
boat would go, and with the current dodging and floating debris,
massive trees swept from the bank, hole roots and all
that looked to Steve like monsters reaching from the depths
to take them to the bottom. Steve watched Smith maneuver
with ease around towboats, pushing massive loads of barges upstream,
never letting up on the throttle. This man had done
this before, and Steve knew that no one wants to die,
even Smith. So he relaxed and lowered the hood on
his raincoat, keeping the stinging raindrops from hitting his face,
and he allowed himself to be fully at the mercy
of Smith. The river, the wind and rain and lightning,
and God Steve adjusted to relieve the strain from sitting
on the aluminum seat for so long. Smith turned the
boat to the west and cut across the current into
the creek that went for half a mile. Huge oaks
and cypress overhung the creek, making it a ride through
a tunnel of green and heavier raindrops that fell from
the leaves above, hitting the whole of the boat like
distant gunfire. And he made a slow arc to the
bank in the front, sliding upon the sand with a
scratch of the hall, and the boat stopped and the
motor stopped, and Smith hobbled past Steve onto the bank,
and he held the rope and he said, welcome to
David Island. Steve get out. Steve grabbed his soaked jim bag,
and he walked up the bank a few feet and
he watched Smith wave as he trolled out the way
they had come. Smith yelled something and Steve barely understood
his words, over the motor in the brain? Was it
worth killing that piece of shit? Steve raised his hand
and waved, and mister Smith yelled an even less honorable
phrase as he turned the bin. You didn't have a choice.
You could live with that. You can live with that.
He was gone, nothing but rain drops on leaves and
mud and sand, and Steve stood there wondering what was next.
He looked around, first catching the beauty of the place,
and then wondered where he should go. He walked up
the bank. The woods were wide open. He saw no one,
so he walked back down to the water and picked
up his back started walking into the massive, ancient forest
with no clue where to go. He walked for an
hour and everything looked exactly the same, and thought it
would be better if he went back to the bank.
Maybe someone was supposed to meet him there, but it
was late. He turned around and around and knew there
was no way he would find his way back. He
picked a direction he thought was right it felt right,
and he started walking again. An hour on the way
back to the bank. This time was not the way
back to the bank. Nothing looked familiar. He was still lost,
and darkness would come soon, so he stopped and he
surrendered to it. The rain kept falling and he was wet,
and though the temperature was in the high eighties, he
was catching a chill. They sat down on the log
blown down from some past hurricane, and he gave up.
Come on, follow me, said a voice behind him. Steve
almost fell off the log. White boys out here in
these hurricanes, wandering around these woods with snakes and shit,
want to eat your ass up? Y'all gonna be the
end of me, said the voice, Now moving away from Steve.
He turned to see an average height yet thin, black
man wearing khaki pants and a green rain slicker and
a bog cap walking away from him. He jumped up,
hefted his heavy gem bag, and he ran to catch up.
How'd you find me all the way out here? I've
been following you since you got dumped out on that bank.
I got food cooking, We got a little ways to go. Now,
come on, boy, if you can keep up, well, who
are you names Augustus Washington. You can call me Gus.
Come on now, it's getting dark. The man never turned around,
so Steve could see who Gus Washington was, but he
didn't care. He just wanted to get out of the rain.
Hook leaned back, stretched his arms over his head. It's late.
How about we get some sleep. We got a long
day tomorrow. If we don't kill the squatch early, I
can tell you the rest of the story another time.
Oh no, you don't. I got to hear the rest
of this, said Lewis. We've got plenty of time. Let's
get some sleep, Lewis. Hook looked at his watch. Past midnight.
We got five hours before we're back in the woods,
and I swear i'll tell you the rest of it soon.
I can't believe this. I don't even know what to say,
said Isabel. He's been through some crazy stuff, and the
guy's always happy. I think he's just happy to be alive.
Wait till you hear the rest of it. The men
walked inside and found a place where they could sleep.
The smelly squatch hunters were snoring. In ten minutes, Hook
got the team across the river, with the boat planed
out at full speed, and even with all the weight
they were hauling. He approached the creek and pulled the
throttle back, the front end, settling back into the water.
The river had been free of ice, but the creek
froze in the night. It was thin ice and easy
to break. But they were making noise. The squatch had
not shown up on the thermal imaging, but it could
have been anywhere, and the noise would only alert it
to their entry onto the island. Hook went as slow
as he could, and the team with rifles ready. He
scanned the bank on each side and they would cut
the bee down if it showed itself. The boat slid
into the bank. The water was higher on this day
than it had been four decades earlier when Steve had
been left there. Steve stepped off, first, tied the bow
to a tree and the others covered him, and then
stepped onto the bank heads swiveled. They didn't necessarily expect
the last squatch to attack them there, but in this game,
caution could save your life. The place looked different to Steve,
and he had expected that. Give a patch of ground
twenty years without human intervention, and you won't see the
same thing. But the area was still familiar in a way.
Maybe it was his imagination recreating the scene the way
he remembered it. Maybe in his mind it looked like
it had when it didn't. There were trees that he
knew had been there and were twice the sizes before.
Floods had come and receded, and washing out the bank
here and there, and carving a new ditch here and there,
looking left and right, trying to make it fit and
get his bearings help some but in the end it
was pointless. He knew where to go and how to
take the team through the area, and he was here
for a different reason. So he pushed the old memories
from his mind and he stepped into the woods. How
about we shoot this one with a bullet this time,
Isabelle said, Steve. Yeah, I'm gonna have take that knife
away from you, said hook. Isabelle grinned and walked faster.
Lewis shook his head. He's crazy, but I like it.
Steve stopped and spoke into his mic. Are you all
in the conference room seeing this is the feed? Any good?
Brown said, we're getting a good image, Steve, Why don't
you power the camera down and save the battery in
case we need it. Once it drains, we won't be
able to use it. Ten four, said Steve. He switched
the camera off. We didn't bring the laptop, so we're
using these small monitors. I can't see anything farther than
a quarter mile around us, we can, said Brown. We're
not seeing any movement. Brown panned out and found the
spot that was blocked out on the screen. If you'll
veer twenty degrees to the left, you'll be walking straight
at the anomaly, maybe a mile ahead. Looks like there's
a field with biologicals between you and your destination. Looks
like cattle, and that means a fence, so you might
have to go around the fence. How far is twenty degrees,
asked Lewis. I don't know, said Steve. Head for that
big cypress over there looks like twenty to me. Brown
confirmed they had a good heading. The team crept through
the wetlands for an hour, coming up on dry ground
and the fence that Brown had predicted. The field had
not been here forty years earlier. Someone had leased it
or bought it civilized at least a small area of
the island. The field was wide open with no cover,
and cows milled about. Most were gathered around a feeder
that had not been filled that day. Without the cloud
cover that had governed the weather the last three days,
the sun lit the field in streaks, with light escaping
through the trees, and even though the temperature were down
in the twenties, the field felt warm to the team.
Lewis caught the flash of metal reflected by the sun
across the field. He raised his scope and saw two
massive bulls locked away from the cows in their own pins.
He panned the field again and he couldn't count the cows.
Thought maybe there were fifty. On the south side. He
watched turkey buzzers lift into the air and then light again.
That area of the field was black with those scavengers.
I bet those squatches have killed some of this man's cows,
and those buzzards cleaning the bones, Lewis said, bringing his
rifle down, Well, they had to be eating something, said Steve.
I knew there wasn't enough game in the bank's woods
to feed all that we killed. I guess we found
their food source. The buzzards lifted into the air in
a black cloud, obviously startled by something. Hook looked at
his monitor, and the big squatch was coming around the field. Here,
that big son of a bitch comes, he said. Damn,
how do we miss him? Said Lewis. Steve raised his
scoop to see the creature moving into the field beneath
a grove of trees to have a snack on a
cow leg. He ranged it and the squatch was at
four hundred plus yards, which you had that big gun
with you, hook, Bet we could take him at that range. Well,
let's take a shot anyway, said Lewis. Maybe we'll hit
him or cripple him. Now that he's out of his
hiding place, we can track him with these monitors. Shright,
said Steve. Find your rest and let's take a shot.
At the same time, they counted to three together, and
four rifles erupted, shattering the still quiet of the winter morning.
The squatch went down, but was back up after a
few seconds, limping away from the cows and back into
the woods, and the four men watched on their screens.
He lay down in a minute, said Lewis, See all
that blood trailing behind him. A white trail of warm
blood formed behind the squatch, making him even easier to track.
On the screen. They watched him fall and lay still,
and then get back up and limp at the same
pace he had been before. The trail of white on
the screen meant that blood was still spilling from his wounds.
Brown's voice was in the team's earpieces again. Men, he's
headed straight back to the blacked out area. You're going
to have to track him there, but at least you'll
be taking care of two objectives at one time. If
he gets into that dark area, we won't be able
to see. We estimate that this anomaly is clouding our
vision at about a fifty yard radius from its source.
Let's go, boys, said Steve. Each man climbed over or
through the barb where our fence and began walking at
a fast paced across the field. The cows began to
scatter and run at the sight of the men. Are
we heading in the right direction? Asked Steve over the
radio firmative, said Brown. Straight ahead. When you get to
the edge of the field right in front of you,
bear to the right just a little. The team made
it to the fence and stopped. They each needed to
catch their breath after slogging through the wet, ice covered
grass and mud. There was no urgency at this point.
They checked the position of the crippled squatch and he
was crawling now. He would bleed out soon enough. They
replaced one round each in their ma and they slapped
them back in the rifles. We've been here three full days,
said Lewis. All this and only four squatches. It's going
to be a low pay day. Well before you got
into this gig with us, how many times in your
life have you made this kind of money in three days?
Lewis Hook stood up and adjusted his pack. Never then
quit your belly aching, man, said Hook. I blame this
all on Steve for falling asleep on the back porch
and letting those things come in and get our money.
Lewis looked up at Steve. Well, I didn't see you
out there cutting heads off when you had the chance,
Lewis said Steve. But you're right, I should have stayed away.
We should have taken proof of kills right away, and
I'll remember that the next time. Anyway, if I can,
I'm going to make it right with you, Lewis, I swear.
Louis looked up at Steve and grinned, you don't know
me nothing. I don't know how much money I have
stashed away, but it's a and every bit of it
is because of you. Steve reached over his shoulder and
patted himself on the back. Yes, I am one hell
of a guy. Fellas, are you seeing this? It was
Brown over the radio. Blue began to talk. Steve, get
your team up and move back across that field. Something's happening.
Look at your monitors. From seemingly nowhere, white objects began
appearing on their screen and moving toward them. First there
were three, and then four, and then six, and without
saying a word, they each gathered their gear and jogged
back into the field. Let's fight them here, screamed Isabelle.
Why are we running because they'll come straight out into
this field, said Hook. It's better than fighting them in
the woods. You got your pay day, Lewis, said Steve.
We're gonna stack them up in this field. He was
the first to start jogging back to the other fence line,
and the others followed. There was no time to look
at their screens to see how far behind the creatures
were or how many were coming. They had made it
halfway when Steve looked over his shoulder to check and
saw that Isabel was not behind them, and he stopped,
and they all stopped where is Isabel? Said Hook. The
Mexican had broken from the pack and was running ninety
degrees from them, kicking up water and mud with each step.
He looked like he was gliding across the field without effort.
Maybe he's going over there by those trees to catch
the squatches in a crossfire, said Steve. Come on, let's go.
I know where he's going, said Lewis. Well fill us
in on that. When we get to the fence, said Steve.
While approaching the fence, the sun was in their face,
but when they got to the trees and turned to
face the threat of multiple squatches attacking, the sun would
be at their back, giving the team an advantag Steve
was the first to climb over the fence. Hook had
stopped twenty yards out, turned and took a knee, and
was scoping the woods across the field. The creatures had
made it to the fence and were apparently trying to
discern a way to get past it. They've got to
be from another world. The fence is confusing them. I
guess Brown's theory is true. They've never dealt with the
fence before, said Hook. They got an IQ lower than
a monkey, said Lewis you ever seen a monkey look
at dumb trying to figure out a fence. One just
made it over, said Hook. They watched the next three
follow its lead, and four were now in the field,
but it stopped just over the fence. To the team,
it looked like they were huddled together talking to each other.
They ain't that smart, said Lewis. No shit, said Hook.
Steve got serious. Let's spread out along this line, maybe
thirty yards apart, in case any of them make it
to this fence, they won't have one spot to focus on,
and if any get here, we can help each other out.
If they get past the fence, watch your fire. Blue's
voice came through their earpieces. While you've been getting to
that defensive position, we've been watching from above. You got
a problem, fellas. Right now we count twenty eight to
thirty creatures that have come out of that dead zone.
We're now certain that this is a portal. I still
can't believe it, but the good news is that no
more have appeared in the last ten minutes. Hopefully this
will be all that have gotten through. They should catch
up to the others soon. You should have a good
field to fire from your position. Good move, pulling back
to the fence. Steve and his team did not respond.
They watched the creatures three hundred yards across the field,
and they waited. Then one of the creatures began bellowing
and screeching in a noise that unnerved the team. Now
they know what to do, you, said Hook. He's calling
his buddies. How many did Blues say? I don't know,
said Steve. A bunch of them. Let's get ready. Blue's
voice broke in once again. They're all headed your way, fellos.
We have someone working to try to get you some
air support. We aren't the military, but we do have
friends stand by and keep them off of you, and
hopefully you won't need it air support, said Lewis. Hell
I like that noise anybody seeing, Isabel, said Hook. I
about forgot about him, said Steve. See if you can
find him over there, Liz, we'll keep an eye on
the squatches. Lewis used his field glasses instead and found
Isabel across the field, and the big grin formed across
his face. That's what I thought he was doing, y'all,
ain't gonna believe this. Hook and Steve shifted their scopes
to the north end of the field. Isabel was running
around the bullpens, aggravating the animals. Two massive bulls, one
a scary brindle color and the other jet black, stomped
and bellowed and huffed with the taunts by Isabelle. He
would run from one pin to the other, waving his hat,
sometimes jumping onto the fences and slapping the bulls on
the head. The bulls drugged their front hoofs and the MUDs,
slinging it high in the air and over their backs,
and then they'd butt their heads into the soft ground
and come up with their heads covered mud heads high
in the air while they pranced back and forth and
in circles waiting for Isabelle to get close enough so
they could stomp him in the ground. Get those squatches
in that field, and I'll turn these demons loose, Isabelle
said over the radio. I'll have them so pissed off
that once they see those hairy monsters in the field.
Don't do all the work for us. You're a genius,
Isabelle said, Steve. Don't let them kill you. I know bulls.
I'll be okay, he said, and went back to and
antagonizing the beasts. The team looked back across the field.
The whole crew of squatches had arrived and were spreading
out somewhat, and then they charged into the mud. Some
slipped and fell, while the others became accustomed to the
soggy ground and came on at full speed. When that
pack of squatches gets halfway across the field, cut those
bulls loose, Isabelle, said Steve. How about we start shooting
when he opens the gates, say the word, said Hook.
We gonna get paid after all, said Louis. I forgive
you for falling asleep the other night. Steve, Well, we
might all die here today, so I appreciate the grace. Lewis.
There's a bunch of them out there. I'm gonna work
my way from the left to the middle. Hook, you
take everything coming up the middle, Lewis, you know the rest.
The mass of dark hairy bodies were at a point
that the team thought was halfway, and Steve shouted into
his mic, cut him loose is a bell, oh isabel
took one lap around the large pin, so the bulls
watched him and focused their attention on him, and in
a fluid motion, flipped the latches on each gate. As
he passed. The gate slowly drifted open, and the bulls
stopped their tantrums and watched the gates and looked into
the open field. But they didn't move. Come on you, lesie, cows,
Isabel shouted, and when they still wouldn't move, he charged
at the gate closest to him, and that bull charged
back at him, and at the last moment, Isabel dove
into the mud on the opposite side of the gate
as it made its way slowly open. The bull turned
with its head lowered and pushed the gate back against
the fence, squeezing Isabel between the metal bars, and burrowed
its massive head as if to push Isabel under the earth.
A shot rang out across the field when Steve took
the first squatch down and Lewis and Hook commenced firing.
The bulls, with their attention redirected to the sharp sounds
of their rifles, turned and ran at the mass of
dark creatures making their way across the field. They ran
at full speed at the creatures that had entered their territory.
By the time the bulls arrived. The team had cut
down half the charging squatches. The creatures were fifty yards
from the team when the first bull ran over the
squatch closest to him, and then he knocked another one
down and buried his head into the creature's body and
then began to stomp what was left before picking out
another squatch. But when the second ball caught up, it
was doing the same. The team had stopped shooting to
watch the show. This ain't even fair, said Hook. I
ain't never seen nothing like this, said Lewis. The charging
squatches had stopped and were running in several directions, trying
to get away from the giant animals they had obviously
never seen before, And when the creature would break away
from the crowd, one of the men would drop it
and the bull would run its muddy head into the creature,
forcing the bodies into the soft mud, and then stomp
on it, making sure they were down, as if that
were even necessary, and then jerk their heads hop in
the air and bellow in victory, and then prance into
the mass of black haired creatures. Once again. Lewis began
giving descriptions of the masker. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, you
run boy you Oh you're gonna get away? Oh too slow?
While the brindle colored mass of muscle stamped the squatch
to death. The other men laughed uncontrollably at Lewis's commentary.
One squatch had managed to not get shot and not
become ground beef in the mud, and was running straight
at Isabelle, who had recovered from his own bull attack
and was making his way around the edge of the field.
The remaining squatches were either dead or in the process
of being stomped by the bulls, so the team zeroed
in on the long squatch bearing down on Isabelle. You
got one coming at you, isabel, said Steve. Before isabel
could answer, Steve watched him raise his rifle and take
the squatch down with one shot to the head. Why
didn't you wait to kill it with your knife, Amigo,
said Huk. I wanted you to see that I can
shoot two, isabel laughed over the radio. The bulls remained
within the circle of mangle squatches, and they continued to
stomp and run over and flip their corpses into the
air with their heads and horns. The team watched and
laughed and began to relax Isabel had not stepped outside
the fence. Instead, he walked toward the bulls, and when
they noticed him, they stopped and became motionless except for
the heavy breathing from the energy they had expended killing
a whole pack of squatches. What the hell is he doing,
asked Lewis. They're gonna kill that boy, isabelle come on
out here with us. Those bulls don't look happy, said Steve.
Isabel walked closer to the bulls despite the danger, and
the bull stayed put. He was just a few yards
in front of the lead bull and raised his hand
and then opened his arms, and the bull lowered its
head and dragged a squatch behind him and flipped it
into the air, and commenced to throwing mud behind and
over its back, and its head so low that its
nose skimmed the short grass. It was going to charge Isabel,
but he began talking in Spanish in soft tones and
walking closer. The bull raised its head, steam blowing from
its nostrils into the cold, moist air like jets. The
second bull pranced even with the other, and Isabel walked
straight to them and laid a hand on each bull's head,
and he began scratching their heads. The animals walked forward
and their muscles on the man with affection. None of
the team could grasp Lewis and Steve and Hook stood
mouths open in astonishment. Isabelle walked both bulls back to
their pins and locked them in respectively, and then entered
the pins and pitched Hay to the ground from aloft above,
and the bulls began to munch, and he walked from
pen to pens, scratching the massive backs of each animal,
before latching the gates and the long walk back to
the team. He ain't crazy, said Lewis. He's magic. I'm
not even going to ask you how you did that,
said Hook. I told you fa I know bulls. Whatever,
said Steve. Let's take a break and get over to
that dark spot. The radio came alive with Brown's voice.
There's more coming through the portal. Guys, we think you
need to evacuate the island and get out of there.
You got plenty of time to get to the boat
and leave. It takes them fifteen minutes to get orientedto
the area before they start their hunting or whatever it
is they do. It's about great move. Letting those bulls out.
You probably didn't need them, but it was fun to
watch from here. Oh you should have seen it in color,
said Steve. How many are we dealing with now, Steve,
this is blue. You need to get out. Their support
we ordered will be there in ten minutes. And the
ordinance they're laying down is some big stuff that you
don't want to be close to right now. If you're
a half mile from the target, that may be a
little too close. But get moving. Wait a minute, said Steve.
If we leave now, we'll be leaving all this bounty
in the field. Call the air support all for an
hour while we get proof of kills we want to
get paid. I can't call them off or delay this.
It took enough effort to even make it happen. Dropping
this type of ordinance on US soil is forbidden.
Speaker 1: Now.
Speaker 2: This is a portal, and if we don't shut it down,
we could have a disaster on our hands. We can't
let any more of these things through. Okay, then we're
gonna start taking heads as many as we can in
the next ten minutes. You got to give us that
you'll be cutting it close. I can't force you to leave.
It's up to you, but you've been warned. I get
as far as you can, because this thing's going to
be a big one. Ten four. Oh, this is awesome,
said Isabelle. Not as awesome as you becoming a bull whisperer,
said Lewis. Let's get busy, said Steve, climbing over the
fence with his knife and burlap sack. When ten minutes
were up, they had enough heads to fill each sack.
On a normal hunt, they would take the heads to
the boat and then come back to get the rest,
but that wouldn't happen today. Once over the fence and
with the gear attached to their bodies and with five
squatchheads a piece in each set, they turned and began
walking toward the creek where they had left the boat.
It would take them an hour or more to get back,
so they knew they would hear and see the explosions.
Two helicopters flew directly over them, heading to the target.
I thought they'd send jets, said Hook. There was no
point in going further. The team was as far away
from the target as they would get, so they dropped
their sacks and watched through the trees and into the field.
The team could watch the choppers as they did their thing.
Fifty five gallon drums were being pushed out, and when
the drums fell below the trees, they could see the
bright orange fire and the black smoke follow when the
napalm was ignited. Even the heat from that distance could
be felt on their faces. The next chopper did the
same thing, and there was another ball of fire rising
and then rapidly falling from above the tree tops. The
helicopters made a left and were gone. And then alone
helicopter came from the opposite direction and rolled only one
drum out of the cabin, and the team watched it fall,
but this time between the team and the target there
was no fireball. Must have been a dud, said Steve.
Two enormous explosions rocked the ground, followed by two low
flying jets that streaked overhead and then rose into the air,
and then they were gone. The shockwave knocked Isabelle and
Lewis on their backs. Hook and Steve had somehow managed
to stay on their feet. Steve, do you read it?
Was Blue's voice, Steve, anybody give me a strapper? You okay,
We're alive. You were right, That was a big boom.
Why the napalm, asked Steve. We had ordered that before
we talked to the military about striking the target with explosives.
The napalm was to help you, but you fellus die
and need it. We didn't want to call it off.
You know the cry a wolf thing. When we call
these guys, we need them to respond, and if we
call them and then call them off in midflight, pisces
them off. I get it, said Steve. Did the portal close?
We think so. In the area where we could not
see anything, there's now a field full of crispy burning squatches.
We can see it all from the sky. It looks
like whatever was obscuring our view was gone. Hold on, Steve.
Blue came back a minute later. Brown is telling me
that for the creatures didn't go down and they're headed
to you. You may have to deal with that. That's
not a problem, said Steve. We'll take these four out
and then get off this island. I think these boys
are ready to go home anyway, Roger, That said Blue.
The team had moved back to the fence where the
main squatch battle had happened. Steve watched his monitor while
three squatch killers watched the other side of the field.
The sun had begin setting, and while there was plenty
of light and plenty of time to finish this job,
they wanted to end this and get out. Lewis looked
through his scope at an area of trees that looked
different to him. Something was soft, but he couldn't put
his finger on it. Hook, you see that metal calfeeder
over there against the tree. Look to the right of
it and tell me what you see. Lewis waited for
Hook to respond. I don't see anything. Did something move?
I think those squatches won't be visible for a few minutes.
Hook settled down again and looked closer. You see how
that area of the trees is darker than everything around.
It looks like it's wet, but everything else isn't. And
do you smell gas? Hook looked again. It is wet,
and I've been smelling gas since we saw that napalm
go up. He zoomed in with a scope and he
saw the jelly like the liquid drip from a limb.
That's that drum that didn't catch fire. The charge was
a dead not the gas. Lewis turned to Steve and
looked at his monitor. Let him. Walk right in there, Steve,
and then we light that napalm and get all of
them at once. Louis, I don't care what anybody says.
You ain't just good looking, you're smart too. You show
got that right, said Louis. When the four squatches walked
under the trees, each man launched a flare. There was
equipment they had bought on sale from a survival website
just in case they needed them one day. The red
flares ark through the air, and as they fell, four
men felt like kids watching a firework display. Kind Of pretty,
isn't it, said Isabelle. The trees around the four beasts
ignited and swarmed them in flames, and one ran back
the way they had come, and three ran into the field.
They got hung up in the barbed wire fence. When
the team started taking long shots and eventually hitting all three,
the creatures laid over the wire burning. My marshmallows do
that over a fire, said Hook. Where'd the other one go?
Asked Lewis. Look here, said Steve, handing the monitor to Lewis.
The creature had made it out of the burn zone,
but lay flat on the ground, motionless and burning. It
was dead. Let's get these heads and get out of here.
It's almost dark, said Hook. The Banks had returned to
their home before the team got there. Sitting on the
sofa were Warren Banks and his grandson playing with the
toys Santa had delivered a few days before. Julia had
gathered the items the team had left laying around on
the porch. She had avoided the sack leaking blood on
the deck, but Steve picked it up and tossed it
in the boat, along with the other gear, which he
had placed in the rear of Hook's vehicle. Julia walked
the team to their car and thanked them each with
a warm hug. My father and I haven't been this
close in years, she said. It took this for us
to start healing. I want to thank you for coming,
and I'm glad it was you and not the law.
If y'all are ever back in this area, will you
please combine and see us, They each answered affirmatively in
their own way. These men had an affection for the
situation they saw this woman in. At some point in
their lives, they had known women dealing with hopelessness and
with no help from anyone. Mostly, they had no way
to help, but they had been able to this time,
because a week after they left, Julia found three bundles
of cash hidden in places someone had known she would
find it. The team, not knowing the others had done this, individually,
left a wad of one hundred dollar bills, one in
an envelope, the others rolled and held together with rubber bands.
It told her more than twenty thousand dollars. She knew
they had left the money, but would never know why,
and she wondered how those rough looking men had the
means to accumulate that kind of money and just give
it away. But they had, she smiled, and it had
reaffirmed in her that there were still good men in
the world. In late January, while sitting at the supper table,
Julia told her father, I have enough money to move out. Daddy,
I'll start looking for a place this week and get
us out of your hair. Warren bowed his head, feeling
shamed because he knew he had driven her and the
boy out with his mean disposition. Would you consider staying,
he said, Maybe you've noticed that I'm not honor as
I was. I haven't had a drink in a few weeks,
and I feel good. And if you'll stay, this house
will feel alive again. I was sure missed that he
kept his eyes on his plate. A tear dropped into
his food. Julia had not told her father about the
money the monster killers had left, so she knew it
wasn't that he was after the money. Now this was
real and she was happy that he wanted her to stay,
and she did. The portal had been closed with the explosion.
It would be a topic of discussion and intense study
within the agency. They now had a theory as to
how these creatures had entered the stage, even though they
didn't know how long the monsters had been on the planet.
Their mission was to render the species extinct, and this
new information reinforced their determination and could be an angle
to kill the creatures that they could exploit. Blue would
try to expand the operations to hunt the creatures. Funding
was always the problem and it was up to him
to keep the agency moving forward. But with the new
revelation that the creatures were from another place in time,
given the right moves with the right people, they would
eventually continue to be funded and would rid the world
of the awful beast that roamed the forests. Of North America.
Four months after the big explosions that almost scared the
female coyote off her den, she approached the den with
fresh meat from a kill. Five pups greeted her outside
the den and began tearing at the meat from the
fallen deer. The winter was over and spring had come
with the explosion of greens all around them, and she
paced around the litter, watching them and sniffing them and
smelling the blood from the kill, and against her instinct,
she trotted away. The pups could survive on their own.
The instinct to travel and move and hunt and find
another mate was stronger than the will to remain close
to her offspring. She walked to the top of a
small hill, looked back at her litter and fought the
urge to make sure that they were okay, and raised
her nose into the air and left