stopped and stiffened.
Instantly, the mangrove trees came alive with unearthly wailing that would freeze a man’s piss midstream.
What came bursting out of them would haunt Rooster until the day he died.
Chapter Twelve
John felt the hammer blow to his back before he had a chance to turn around. It sounded like a herd of stampeding wildebeests.
He hit the shallow water face-first and got a mouth full of gunk from the bottom. When he exploded to the surface, he couldn’t help but scream.
Four hairy monsters, the smallest at just about seven feet, the largest over eight, stood side by side on the shore, bellowing with murderous intent. All had broad, muscular chests, and one sported a pair of drooping, furred breasts. The hair on their heads was long, like an 80s glam band gone rogue. Their immense, talon-like hands hung low, almost to their knees. A small amount of bronze flesh was visible on their faces, but the rest of them just looked like bipedal woolly mammoths. And their eyes! Eight flaming eyes bored out from under all that hair and filth.
“Carol!”
Liz was nowhere to be seen, but three of the skunk apes had hold of his wife. Tears ran down her face and she wailed, “John! Please, help me!”
He whipped around to see Rooster take a careful shot at the one that held Carol’s left arm. A jet of blood sprouted from its shoulder, but it didn’t let go.
Instead, it tightened its grip, bringing out a scream from Carol that didn’t seem humanly possible.
“It’s breaking my arm!” she shouted.
John fought the mire that tried to hold him in place. He was weeping and shouting and out of his mind with helpless anger and fear.
“Just hold on, baby!”
He was inches from shore when the beasts bent at the knees in a concerted effort and tugged. Carol came apart in three shredded hunks as easily as a cheap piñata. One of them held a portion that contained her right leg, part of her torso, neck, and worst of all, still-screaming head.
“Nooooooo!”
John meant to empty every bullet he had in his gun, but it had been lost in the water.
Another shot rang out, biting off the trunk of a tree.
He heard someone shout, “John, get back!”
Carol’s eyes settled on his, and her shouting, and her pain, stopped. A final tear snaked down her cheek, and she was silent.
The skunk apes tossed her pieces into the water, beating at the ground with their massive hands and screeching, baring jagged, yellow teeth.
A hand grabbed John’s shoulder and pulled him away. It was Jack. Dazed, John went limp and allowed himself to be trailed along like a floatable pool toy. His stomach heaved and he threw up.
Carol.
He couldn’t save her.
Please forgive me! I failed you when you needed me most!
He blocked out the impossible horror on the shore. He could only see the final, pleading moment in Carol’s eyes.
Jack, pulling John, passed Dominic, who had squared his legs and shoulders and was deciding which skunk ape to shoot.
“You motherfuckers!”
He pulled the trigger and the pistol jerked up, missing high and wide.
“Save your bullets!” Rooster shouted. He had come back and was right behind him. “They’re too far for you.”
He was right. Dominic needed to go to them.
“Are you crazy?” Rooster hollered. He felt the big man’s fingers swipe at his neck and shoulder but shrugged them off.
Dominic advanced to the shore. His heart thundered in his chest. These amped-up gorillas had taken Angelo and killed that lady. He wasn’t going to run away. They had to pay.
The skunk apes stopped their ungodly howling and trained their attention on him. They mustn’t have been used to having prey come to them. Odds were, they were the king shits out here. But alligators and bears and panthers didn’t have guns, and they weren’t from the Bronx.
“You think you’re tough shit?” Dominic cried out. He smiled when he saw the river
Instantly, the mangrove trees came alive with unearthly wailing that would freeze a man’s piss midstream.
What came bursting out of them would haunt Rooster until the day he died.
Chapter Twelve
John felt the hammer blow to his back before he had a chance to turn around. It sounded like a herd of stampeding wildebeests.
He hit the shallow water face-first and got a mouth full of gunk from the bottom. When he exploded to the surface, he couldn’t help but scream.
Four hairy monsters, the smallest at just about seven feet, the largest over eight, stood side by side on the shore, bellowing with murderous intent. All had broad, muscular chests, and one sported a pair of drooping, furred breasts. The hair on their heads was long, like an 80s glam band gone rogue. Their immense, talon-like hands hung low, almost to their knees. A small amount of bronze flesh was visible on their faces, but the rest of them just looked like bipedal woolly mammoths. And their eyes! Eight flaming eyes bored out from under all that hair and filth.
“Carol!”
Liz was nowhere to be seen, but three of the skunk apes had hold of his wife. Tears ran down her face and she wailed, “John! Please, help me!”
He whipped around to see Rooster take a careful shot at the one that held Carol’s left arm. A jet of blood sprouted from its shoulder, but it didn’t let go.
Instead, it tightened its grip, bringing out a scream from Carol that didn’t seem humanly possible.
“It’s breaking my arm!” she shouted.
John fought the mire that tried to hold him in place. He was weeping and shouting and out of his mind with helpless anger and fear.
“Just hold on, baby!”
He was inches from shore when the beasts bent at the knees in a concerted effort and tugged. Carol came apart in three shredded hunks as easily as a cheap piñata. One of them held a portion that contained her right leg, part of her torso, neck, and worst of all, still-screaming head.
“Nooooooo!”
John meant to empty every bullet he had in his gun, but it had been lost in the water.
Another shot rang out, biting off the trunk of a tree.
He heard someone shout, “John, get back!”
Carol’s eyes settled on his, and her shouting, and her pain, stopped. A final tear snaked down her cheek, and she was silent.
The skunk apes tossed her pieces into the water, beating at the ground with their massive hands and screeching, baring jagged, yellow teeth.
A hand grabbed John’s shoulder and pulled him away. It was Jack. Dazed, John went limp and allowed himself to be trailed along like a floatable pool toy. His stomach heaved and he threw up.
Carol.
He couldn’t save her.
Please forgive me! I failed you when you needed me most!
He blocked out the impossible horror on the shore. He could only see the final, pleading moment in Carol’s eyes.
Jack, pulling John, passed Dominic, who had squared his legs and shoulders and was deciding which skunk ape to shoot.
“You motherfuckers!”
He pulled the trigger and the pistol jerked up, missing high and wide.
“Save your bullets!” Rooster shouted. He had come back and was right behind him. “They’re too far for you.”
He was right. Dominic needed to go to them.
“Are you crazy?” Rooster hollered. He felt the big man’s fingers swipe at his neck and shoulder but shrugged them off.
Dominic advanced to the shore. His heart thundered in his chest. These amped-up gorillas had taken Angelo and killed that lady. He wasn’t going to run away. They had to pay.
The skunk apes stopped their ungodly howling and trained their attention on him. They mustn’t have been used to having prey come to them. Odds were, they were the king shits out here. But alligators and bears and panthers didn’t have guns, and they weren’t from the Bronx.
“You think you’re tough shit?” Dominic cried out. He smiled when he saw the river
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