Steve

  When they reached the stretch of bayou where Bart and William were supposed to be camped, Steve blew past the cut without slowing.

  “What’re you doin’?” Pow asked, brow furrowed.

  “Somethin’ wrong?” Emily added.

  “Nope,” Steve said, grinning. “I got a directional gift. I know exactly where I’m goin’.”

  Emily raised an eyebrow. “Your buddy here ain’t so sure.”

  “He can’t see what I see,” Steve said, chin lifted in supreme confidence.

  “Arrogant much?” she muttered to Pow, thumbing toward Steve.

  “He’s annoying,” Pow admitted, “but he knows this swamp better than anyone I know.”

  “Just trust me,” Steve said. “It’s all undah control.”

  He veered into a narrow pocket Pow didn’t recognize and eased off the throttle.

  “Eyes peeled,” Steve said, his voice low now. “This is where the animals started actin’ crazy.”

  Pow scanned the banks, looking for movement, banners, anything. The silence felt wrong, like something stalked them.

  “Right up here,” Steve said, pointing to a muddy rise. “We go on foot from here. Locked and loaded, nurse.”

  “I’m a paramedic,” Emily snapped. “Not a nurse.”

  She leapt expertly off the boat first. Steve elbowed Pow and winked.

  “You already have a girlfriend, bro.” Pow admonished.

  “But I’m not done shoppin’, me. You know what I’m sayin’.”

  “I don’t know how Cherise puts up wit you.”

  “Cuz I’m good at what I do, bra.”

  “Why are we over here and not where we left yesterday?”

  “Somethin’ I should know?” Emily interrupted.

  “Pow was just admiring your athleticism, ma’am,” Steve said with a smirk. “Don’t you worry none. We comin’.”

  As he finished his sentence, Deputy Vicari and Johnson pulled up and parked beside them.

  “We go on foot from here, Deputy. Y’all bring plenty of firepower. Ain’t nothin’ actin’ right in these woods. You see an animal, trust me, you shoot before it shoots you.”

  “Wait, how’s an animal gonna—” Vic started.

  “Just trust me,” Steve cut him off. “You’ll see.”

  Steve handed an M4 Carbine and a 9mm to Pow and a Benelli pump-action shotgun to Emily, not daring to ask if she knew how to use it. He grabbed a Smith & Wesson M&P 15 .556 for himself and a .40 Cal for backup.

  Vic looked at Steve suspiciously, but something in the back of his mind made him follow his lead. He handed Johnson an AR and told her to double-check her sidearm ammo. He took an AR for himself and checked his own .357 revolver.

  “Are we goin’ ta war, Steve?” Johnson asked.

  “You saw dem othas we brought in?” Steve asked rhetorically. “Da creatures out here done lost der damn minds. I’m tellin’ ya. Don’t hesitate to kill. Even if it looks docile. It ain’t. Rats, snakes, porcupines, gators, bats, lizards…day all nuts right now. You have to trust me.”

  As if on cue, a rustle in the reeds about 30 yards in front of the party startled everyone.

  “I got two…mudpies? Whassa mudpie?” Pow asked.

  “What’re you lookin’ at?” Emily asked.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “You’re about to see somethin’ crazy,” Pow said, eyes locked on the reeds. “Two creatures. Mudpies. You ain’t nevah seen nothin’ like ‘em.”

  “The system says we can’t shoot,” Steve warned. “Pow, use your lightning. I got nothin’ dat’ll touch ‘em.”

  “What are you—” Vic started, but cut off as two three-foot mud masses slithered into view. “What in the name of Saint Petah?”

  “Mudpies,” Steve said. “Light ‘em up, Pow!”

  Pow glanced at Emily, shrugged, raised his hand and fired. Bolts of electricity slammed into the first mudpie, freezing it mid-slither. The second retaliated, blasting a pulse of muddy water from what looked like a mouth. Pow dodged, and the pulse slammed into the boat, shoving it off its parking spot.

  “Dang!” Steve shouted. “We don’t wanna get hit with one o’ dose! Hit it again, Pow!”

  Pow fired again. The second mudpie convulsed then blew up sending muddy shrapnel in all directions.

  The first one dove into the water.

  “Crap!” Pow yelled. “I lost it! Must be hidin’ its banner! Usin’ some sorta stealth mode.”

  “Stay sharp,” Steve said. “It’ll pop up to shoot. You got juice left?”

  “Yeah, but we need to get outta da water. My shock will fry y’all too!”

  Steve cursed. “Didn’t think o’ dat.” Then louder: “Y’all snap outta it! I told ya everything’s weird out here. Move to da bank!”

  Vic blinked. “He just shot lightning—”

  “And he’s gonna do it again. But electricity and water, cher? We don’t want none o’ dat! Move!”

  Steve waded toward the bank. The mudpie surfaced and fired. The pulse hit his arm, dropping him to his knees.

  “Come on, y’all! Dat hurt! Let’s go!”

  The group slogged through the thick muck. The mudpie popped up again—this time hitting Emily square in the chest. She collapsed, gasping. Steve rushed over, dragging her the rest of the way to the shore.

  Another shot barely missed Vic.

  “Maaaan, I didn’t sign up for dis!” Vic whined as he got his last boot free to dry land.

  As soon as Susan’s last foot cleared the water, Pow fired a bolt at the mudpie’s last known position. The charge merely tickled his skin, raising every hair on his body.

  “You see it?” Steve asked.

  The mudpie floated up, stunned.

  Pow hit it again.

  “Aaayyyy!” Steve cheered. “Atta boy!”

  “Will someone please explain what the f—”

  The ground shook violently. Everyone hit the dirt. Pow dropped to his knees in the muck as a deafening energy pulse, sounding like a lightsaber amplified through twenty Kicker 12s, ripped across the surface.

  The force hurled Susan into a tree. What was left of her slumped to the ground in a heap of limp muscle and bone lifelessly.

  Vic flew into the water, then the force yanked him toward the blast like a rag doll caught in a tug-of-war between giants. His limp form zoomed directly to the whirlpool over a mile away. His unconscious body surfed through the water like a topwater fishing lure being pulled back in for a second cast.

  Emily rose gently, lifted fifty feet into the air. Once clear of the tree canopy, the force sucked her lifeless body into the whirlpool as if it were hungry for human flesh.

  Steve rolled over, bruised but mobile. Pow wiped mud from his eyes with the cleanest corner of his shirt.

  “What was that?” Pow asked. “Where’s the othas?”

  Steve shook his head. “I don’t know. You think dat’s what hit us? Changed us?”

  “Yeah. I think so.”

  Pow scanned the bank. “Aww, man. Dat ain’t no good.”

  Steve saw Susan’s body. Her twisted form piled at the base of the tree like a god had thrown her out with yesterday’s laundry.

  “She was good people, bra,” he whispered reverently. “Dat ain’t right.”

  “Yeah. Dat ain’t no way to go.” Pow said regretfully. “We should go. Try and find Vic and Emily. Nothin’ we can do for Susan now. Plus if day gettin’ changed, day gon have a lot o’ questions.”