Swamp Monster Massacre by Hunter Shea

hand and let him pull her out.  
    “I’m sorry. It just looked so good.”
    “That’s an illusion. There’re all kinds of alligators and snakes in there that’ll ruin your day, not to mention the turtles. If they get a hold of you with those beaks, they’re leaving with a pound of your flesh.”
    Dominic caught up to them and knelt at the water’s edge, pushing fallen leaves around. He got excited and jumped up. “Look! There’s blood on this one. We must be right behind them.”
    Rooster plucked the leaf from his hand and brought it up to his nose. He recoiled from the smell. “Yep, that’s from them all right. Looks like we’re all headed the same way.”
    Finding Angelo was the least of Rooster’s concerns, but he had to play the game to keep everyone with him. Knowing that some crazed Bigfoot or whatever it could be was out there changed the game. Rooster needed numbers, especially when they all had guns. Getting out of this mess alive meant depending on the group.  
    “Mick, come up here!” Rooster hollered.  
    The pilot was deathly pale. Blood had mixed with his sweat so he looked like an extra from a horror movie.  
    “I need a second pair of eyes. You see anything between here and that spot?” He pointed to the horseshoe-shaped landmass slightly to their right.
    Mick squinted, taking his time, while Rooster gave another sweep of their immediate area, which was where most of the bad shit would lie in wait.  
    “It looks clear to me, but you know there could be anything under the surface.”
    “Yeah, I know, but we’ll have to take our chances.” He turned to the group. “We’re heading for that island over there. Odds are the water will be pretty shallow, so hopefully we can walk across. But you may have to swim in parts. Keep your gun over your head. If it gets wet, it’s about as useful as a rock. I’ll take the lead, and Mick here will stay in the middle. Liz, you seem like you can handle yourself. You opposed to taking the rear?”
    The girl quietly shook her head.  
    Mick added, “And watch out for gator holes. When the water’s low, they dig these big old holes looking for food. Now that the water’s high, you can’t see them until you drop in one. Just be ready to tread water if your foot comes across empty space.”
    That seemed to rattle a few cages. Mick noticed and added, “The gators aren’t in the holes now. Just be aware that you may come across some deep pits.”
    “No sense lugging this around,” Rooster said. He dropped the bag of guns, which only had five more, and hung it on a branch. “If I’m lucky, I can come back for this later.”
    “What about that small one?” Maddie asked, nodding toward the tool bag of money.  
    He just smiled and left it at that.  
    “Good. Let’s get wet.”
    Rooster eased into the water and had to admit that Maddie was right. Despite the ball-shriveling fear that something in the murk was moments from biting or eating him, the cool water did wonders for chasing the heat stroke away.  
    He heard Dominic say, “Angelo’s probably over there too, right?”
    When Rooster turned, he saw John and Carol put a hand on each of his shoulders. “I’m sure he is,” Carol said.  
    Dominic jumped in like a kid at a public pool, anxious to find his friend. Next was Mick. He filled his cap with water and let it rain down over his head, washing the blood off his face. Jack came in tentatively after him, his eyes wide and searching for imminent death.  
    Maddie and Rooster had gone about twenty yards and the water was still chest high, at least for him. They hopped on the balls of their feet, moving ahead steadily. A breeze had picked up and was at their backs. It felt good.  
    But it also carried something with it.  
    “Oh shit!”
    Rooster spun around and shouted, “Get in the water, now!”
    Liz, John and Carol were still on land, tying one of the supply bags to John’s back. They must have smelled it, too, because each of them