Bart

  I wanted to break down, let the floodgates open, and cry until the swamp swallowed me whole. But I couldn’t. I had to hold myself together, figure out my next move.

  “Dad, can I give the prisoners some water? Check the ropes? Maybe question a few of them?”

  “Oh, they’re tied up alright. Nobody gettin’ outta dat.” He pointed with his knife. “What kinda questions you got for ‘em?”

  “I need to know how many there are. Where they came from,” I lied. “Maybe one of them will tell me who their leader is. Get some good intel.”

  “I tried dat,” he spat. “Dey ain’t talkin’, but you’re welcome to play good cop bad cop on ‘em if you tink dat’ll work.”

  I went over to the trees and checked on the guys. Dad watched, but he allowed me to move around freely. Maybe he thought his punch had made his point.

  Dad’s knots were tight, cruelly efficient. Even healthy men couldn’t have wriggled free, and these men weren’t healthy. I quickly assessed each prisoner. They needed immediate medical attention. Dehydration had hollowed them out. Dry, cracked lips, slumped bodies over the vine ropes, darkening bruises, large gashes, Each looked barely alive.

  I checked on Michael Powers first. Vomit crusted his shirt. Based on what I’d seen before, I prayed it meant he’d gone through the magical awakening.

  Pow was probably one of the kindest men I’d ever met. We’d first crossed paths at a crawfish boil years ago. He introduced himself simply as “Pow.” We’d been paired for a cornhole tournament and won.

  Seeing him broken, filthy, and barely alive hit me hard.

  I shook him. Nothing. I slapped him, harder than I wanted.

  His eyes flew open, wide with terror and shock. I pressed a finger to his lips.

  “Shh. I know you hurting right now and probably freaking out, but I’m here to help you. How do you feel?”

  “I’ll be alright,” he s groaned, straining against the ropes. “Why am I tied up? Why are there words floating in my vision?”

  “First. Quiet.” My voice was low, urgent. “My dad’s confused right now, and he thinks you’re some sort of spy. I know it sounds weird, but I think whatever crazy thing is going on out here has messed with his mind.”

  “He tied me up?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he run me through a meat grinder? I feel like sh—”

  “Shh,” I softly admonished. “I need you to trust me, man. A lot of very weird stuff is happening right now. I’ll help the others, but you need to keep it down. Please, work with me.”

  “Okay. Can you untie me? And what’s up with these words? They move wherever I look. Is it a warning or something?”

  “Okay. I saw it too. I’ll explain it in a minute. For now, in order for me to get you out of here, we need this to look like an interrogation. It doesn’t have to make sense right now, but my dad needs to believe that I’m questioning you. Just play along. I may have to slap you a couple of times to keep up appearances. Nod if you understand.”

  He nodded.

  “Who’s in charge here?” I shouted, then slapped him. Whispering again, I said, “Sorry. I hope that wasn’t too hard.”

  “Dude,” he hissed. “Yeah. A bit much.”

  I went back to whispering, “What do you see?”

  “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I see a warning telling me to pick a lineage?” He shook his head like a dog shaking off water.

  “Great. Does it give you options? Like a ‘yes/no’ question?

  “Yeah.”

  “Do it. Quick. We need your help.”

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  “Okay…Yes…I have two options. A swamp rat and a witch?”

  “Wait. You have the witch option?”

  “Yeah. You understand this stuff?”

  “Yeah. I got options too, only I got a few more to choose from. I’m guessing, but I think this system is making us pick from a certain set of lineages. Pick the witch. We need the magic.”

  Earlier, I had theorized that Dad picked the witch, based on the system removing options as they were chosen. But if he was the witch, then Pow shouldn’t have been able to choose it. I was wrong, or maybe Dad had chosen something else entirely.

  “Bayou witch,” he said. He stared and read the words in front of him, then he said, “Yes.”

  Light flared around him, bright as Christmas. He would’ve floated if not for the ropes. No way Dad didn’t see that.

  “Is he givin’ you anythin’?” Dad’s voice cut in. He’d flanked me, silent as a shadow. He acted like he saw nothing, either that or he just ignored the awakening on purpose.

  “No sir. He’s delirious. We should give them some water. Have you medically assessed the others?” I didn’t normally talk like that unless I was on a mission, but it felt right to talk to Dad this way.

  “Dat one took a good knock to da head. I think da others may have couple bullet wounds, and dey’re lucky to be alive. I gave ‘em first aid. Tried to keep ‘em alive with da limited supplies I had.

  “Come with me. Lemme show you somethin’.”

  I followed, hoping distance might give Steve and Keith a chance to cut the captives free.

  “Dad! Why don’t we let these guys g—”

  “Shhh. Hold yer tongue, boy!” His hand clamped over my mouth. He drew in close, his eyes burning. “Your friends’re spies. Don’t beat yourself up about it. Dey’ve infiltrated every unit. I can’t believe it myself, but it’s true. We’re in grave danger, son. We might have ta fight our way outta here. You ready?”

  “Sir, with all due respect, none of these men are spies. They aren’t even soldiers. They’re just boys from Louisiana trying to rescue you. Something’s out here killin’ people. The Fontenots…all dead. Sheriff Crochet…seriously injured. The animals have all gone feral…attacking everything. We need to get back to Pierre Part as soon as possible!”

  His eyes flickered, a battle raging inside. One part of him clawed for freedom from the controlling element, the other chained to madness.

  “You can’t believe everythin’ dey told you, son!” He turned away. “Dey got ya twisted. I know your heart is in da right place, but you let ‘em in. Got too close. Let ‘em infiltrate your unit.” He looked around to make sure we were alone, then moved in and whispered, “Don’t worry. We can fight dis. We just gotta play deir game.”

  I swallowed hard. If convincing him wouldn’t work, I’d play along. “Okay. But don’t hurt anyone. We’ll bring them back to town. Let the authorities handle it.”

  I thought about it for half a second, and swallowed hard. I If convincing him wouldn’t work, I’d play along. “Okay. But don’t hurt anyone. We’ll bring them back to town. Let the authorities handle it.”

  “Sure. We can do dat. Let them do da dirty work.”

  “Dad,” I hesitantly asked, “can we talk about the magic? I think it’s part of this whole thing. Part of everything going on right now.”

  He stopped, eyes narrowing, searching me for mockery. Then he walked again, voice low and steady.

  “When I came to, it was just like you said—floating text, hanging dere in da air. I tought it was some kinda Cong trickery, but I couldn’t ignore it. All dese words about lineages, and I just didn’t wanna see ‘em anymore. First ting dat popped up was somethin’ called Rougaroux. I didn’t know what dat meant. Didn’t care. I said da word, and I felt like I was floatin’! Craziest ting eva! Energy rippled trough me like a storm. I felt stronger. Faster.

  “A buncha critters came outta da woodworks actin’ like I done pissed on deir momma’s grave or somethin’. Words floatin’. Always with da damn words.

  “Den Charlie came outta nowhere and started attackin’ me, guns hot, comin’ straight for me. I had nothin’ to defend myself with…since…my unit…since…”

  He faltered like he was trying to make sense of his story, then he pressed on, “Alls I had was dis so-called…magic pulsin’ in my blood. I leapt into deir boat mid-barrage and took out two of ‘em. Didn’t walk away clean. Caught two rounds, one in da arm, one in da leg.” Lifting his sleeve, he revealed scar tissue, ragged and dark. He sounded like R. Lee Ermey reliving his life. All soldier. Hard as steel.

  “Den two more boats arrived, full of hostiles. I took da first soldier out and da other got away, jumpin’ into da river. I came back around and watched da other boat take off downriver. I pulled the first two corpses from da water and dragged them back to da whirlpool. Trew ‘em in… I’m not sure why…. It felt… right… Like da source wanted ‘em… Like I owed it blood… Like I was feedin’ it or somethin’.”

  His eyes darkened. “After I finished disposin’ of da bodies, I heard another boat approachin’. Turned out to be two boats. Dey landed, and I opened fire. Hit two men. I wounded ‘em, but dey lived. Da other two slipped off. One of da wounded was barely hangin’ on, so I kept him as a prisoner. Da other... I… fed to the whirlpool…”

  He exhaled slowly, remembering. “Not long after dat, I saw another boat fightin’ da current. I jumped onto it…knocked one guy out cold. Da second wasn’t so lucky. Got swallowed by da water ‘fore I could reach ‘im.

  “Later, I found a man washed up on shore. Tied him to a tree right dere. I figured since he was unconscious he’d be alright.”

  He stopped walking. “Two more ambushed me after dat. I had seriously stirred up da hornet’s nest. I didn’t tink I was gonna survive dis whole deal. Never heard ‘em comin’; real quiet bastahds. Dey opened up wit automatic fire. I reacted fast… Had to…didn’t have a choice… had to take ‘em both down… pretty sure dey’re dead… Left da bodies dere.”

  His jaw flexed a few times, then relaxed.

  “When I finally got back to my camp, a man was tryin’ ta free da prisoners. Caught him in da act. Knocked him out, tied him up too. I hunkered down feelin’ tuckered. I woke up to you and dem boys shootin’ up da damn jungle.”

  I stood frozen, stomach hollow. My dad had just confessed. Cold. Matter?of?fact. He’d murdered our friends and neighbors.

  He was the nightmare creature I’d seen attack the sheriff.