Swamp Monster Massacre by Hunter Shea Page B

think you may have nicked whatever gland made it reek so bad. Maybe they’re not just rotten on the outside.”
    “Might as well come down,” Liz said. “It’s not like we can do the same thing here twice.”
    Jack hit the ground and rolled into his own vomit.  
    He was about to protest when Rooster raised his finger to his lips.  
    “You hear that?” he asked.  
    Liz tried, but could only discern the natural sounds of small critter life on the island. Rooster hadn’t even bothered to wipe a drop of the blood from his face. It dripped down his cheeks, seeping into his mouth.  
    He pointed to the east. “They’re over there.”
    “I didn’t hear anything,” Jack said.  
    “Trust me. Your nose will know I’m right.”
    He turned and headed off without waiting to see if they would follow. Liz helped Jack to his feet.  
    “I’m sure the rest of them will all be together, so get ready to use that,” she said,handing the gun back to him. Jack needed it more than her. He nodded, and they scrambled to catch up with Rooster, who Liz now felt with all her soul had become more beast than man.  
    She could hear her daddy telling her, Stay close to him. If you want to survive, you have to put yourself in the eye of the hurricane. Remember everything I taught you. Don’t let me or your sister down.  
    She stopped when she spotted a branch that was just wide enough for her to stretch her fingers around. It must have been snapped off in a storm. The tip had split into a jagged, sharp point. The guns hadn’t done them much good. Time for a new tactic.  

Chapter Twenty-One
    Damn, it felt good to make mincemeat out of that friggin’ ape.  
    Rooster was riding his anger high, hard and fast. Back there, carving up that fucker like it was a Thanksgiving turkey that had done him wrong, he didn’t even feel the blood as it bathed his skin or smell the hellish funk that oozed out of each chopped-up bit. It was like an out-of-body experience, this free rein given to his anger, letting it satisfy its every lust and hunger.  
    Maybe that’s why all those folks back home tried their damndest to wring that poison out of me, he thought. As he ran recklessly, he briefly wondered what his life would be like after this—if there was an after. Would his anger all bleed out, or would it continue to boil? Then he thought of Maddie, and realized he didn’t give a crap. He had work to do.  
    He skidded to a stop when he saw a pair of hairy, enormous skulls just above a line of bushes. They were facing the other way, oblivious to his approach. He jerked around and motioned for Jack and Liz to freeze.  
    “Two, up ahead,” he mouthed.  
    Liz’s mouth set in a grim line. Jack hunched low, looking nervous as all get out.  
    He waved them to come closer.  
    “Liz, I say we flank them while Jack here empties out that gun the moment they stand up. Looks like you found a spear. Nice. Just drive it into its belly, where you won't get much resistance. You try for the chest or head and it’ll just bounce off the bone. Drive it deep as you can and just keep pushing on it.”
    “Got it.”
    “And Jack, I need you to be fucking Wild Bill Hickok. Make the few shots you have count. Go for their upper backs. With any luck, you’ll hit their spine. That’ll drop ’em quick. Just breathe through your mouth and keep your eyes open when you pull the trigger.”
    Jack was already doing his share of mouth breathing to calm his nerves. His head bobbed up and down like a bird dipping into a puddle of water.  
    “Just let me lead. Liz, once you see me, you come ready to gore its ugly ass. I’ll take the right. Let’s hit it before they go looking for their dead brother.”
    Liz gave him a thumbs-up and disappeared behind a cypress tree without making a sound. Rooster wasn’t quite as nimble, but in a way, he wanted the Bigfoots to know he was coming. He hoped when he got close enough, they could smell the blood of their brother on