Terror at Bottle Creek Read online

  The danger lies not only in getting slashed by the cutter teeth but also in catching a sharp hoof to the face or arm. The dogs are often gored or killed in the fight. I’ve seen them back away with their cheeks hanging open or their intestines hanging from their belly, blue and bloody and leaf-pasted.

  While alligators can be deadly, they’re easy to avoid. Dad and I have to be more careful around deadly animals that roam on land. We’re out there walking around in the dense underbrush most of the year. Dad’s always more wary of poisonous snakes than anything else. He has a recurring dream where he’s walking barefoot through the swamp and steps on a cottonmouth. He feels the lump of it under his heel like a mushy stick. He’s stepped on the middle of it, and it continues to arc its head up and bite his calf. While I don’t like snakes either, I have more nightmares about hogs.

  When I was ten years old Dad pulled up to the creek bank to let me get out of the boat and pick some muscadine grapes. I hadn’t wandered far into the palmetto when I was suddenly charged by a large sow. She bowled me over, bit onto my thigh, and shook me like a doll. It happened so fast that I didn’t have time to react. Dad was quick to fire a shot into the air with his rifle. This startled the sow, and I saw her bolt off with a litter of piglets trailing her. I still have the scars from where her teeth punctured my leg. I learned firsthand that wild pigs won’t hesitate to attack. And kill you. And eat you.

  24

  Liza stopped and I felt dread slip over me as I anticipated what lay ahead. I came up beside her and saw the black water of Bottle Creek at her feet.

  “Take her,” I said.

  Liza took Francie and passed me the light and the compass. I shoved the compass into my pocket. Then I put the light on the creek and over it and up into the rain where I couldn’t see the opposite bank. I pulled it back to us and upstream, watching the way the water rested against the trees. The current didn’t appear to be a serious threat.

  “We’ve got to swim this to get to the mounds,” I said.

  We still had on our life vests, and Liza was a good swimmer. I wasn’t worried about her. I shoved the flashlight into my pocket and took Francie again and held her out before me. “Francie?” I said.

  She looked at me.

  “You’re gonna have to hold on to my neck, okay? I’m gonna have to swim with you on my back.”

  She stared at me blankly, her lips quivering. I lowered her into the water until she was floating in her vest. Then I crouched and pulled her around behind me. I heard her breathing increase and felt her arms clasp my neck, and I was certain she understood.

  “Stay close enough to touch me,” I told Liza. “If you start to drift off, grab on to my vest. I can pull us all if I have to.”

  She nodded.

  I leaned forward and shoved out into the creek. I made wide breaststrokes, trying to envision keeping myself perpendicular to the bank. But everything was black and disorienting. I couldn’t see in front of me. My eyes were useless and only confusing me. I closed them and felt the wind gust against my cheek and remembered from what direction it had come and tried to keep swimming so that I continued to feel it there. Francie’s hands were cold and tight and trembling against my throat. I heard Liza beside me.

  When I felt the tug of current it was heavy and slow, and I knew we were somewhere in the middle of the creek. I kept on, envisioning where we might come out. There was a crooked cypress that Dad usually used as a landmark for the trail, but I didn’t expect to find it. Even if we missed the usual route in, I was confident I could still locate the mounds.

  When my arms swept over a thatch of palmetto I knew we were across. The swim had been smooth and easy. I grabbed a tree and swung my feet toward the ground. I hefted Francie onto my shoulders, then turned and helped Liza stand.

  “You okay?” I asked her.

  “Yes,” she said.

  The floodwater was up to my chest and nearly to Liza’s neck. It was really getting to us now, bringing down our body temperatures. I was shivering and I heard Liza’s teeth chattering. I had to hold the light over my head with one arm and Francie with the other. She rocked on my shoulders as I made slow and deliberate progress toward the mounds. My feet and legs were constantly tangled in something. It helped to lean against the trees and steady myself, but sometimes there was nothing and I stepped into depressions and stumbled forward, dumping Francie into the cold water. Normally she was a good swimmer for a six-year-old, but her strength and motivation were sapped.

  With none of the usual trails and landmarks it was hard to know just how much farther we had to go, and if we were even headed in the right direction. Soon, though, a wailing sound pierced the wind and rain and raised the hair on the back of my neck. Whatever it was, it was directly in front of us. Right where I figured the mounds to be.

  25

  It was a horrible, nonhuman scream. I stopped and studied the weave of tree branches, whipping and slashing before my face.

  “What was it?” Liza said through chattering teeth.

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “It came from ahead of us.”

  “I know,” I said.

  We had to get out of the water. Even if it didn’t rise another inch, we were all close to hypothermic. I started forward again. We hadn’t gone far when I heard another wail, followed by an explosion against the surface like a herd of cattle stampeding across a river. I felt fear rise hot up my back, but I didn’t stop this time. I didn’t want to talk to Liza about it. I didn’t know what it was, but it didn’t matter. We had to reach the mounds.

  I felt the ground slope up beneath my feet. I continued forward until I was standing only waist-deep in the water. Liza came up behind me.

  “This is one of the smaller mounds,” I said. “The big one we need to get to is a little farther.”

  “What’s making all the noise, Cort?”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “How much farther?”

  “Maybe seventy yards.”

  I pointed my light in the general direction, and through the rain I saw the reflective eyes of another animal on the mound just ahead of us. I kept my light on it, slowly making out the shape of a buck, standing up to his neck in the floodwater. He stared at us helplessly, numbed and fearless. Then the horror of what we were about to find hit me.

  The animals of the swamp were all going for the mounds. No different from us, they knew it was their only refuge for miles. But why is this buck hanging back? I wondered. I was pretty sure I knew—still, I didn’t want to think about it. And again it didn’t matter. We had no choice.

  I stepped down into the deep water again and pressed forward. We passed within ten feet of the buck while he stood there, strangely paralyzed. Gradually I saw other animals standing on the low mounds around us. All of the small rises held a deer or a hog, still as statues. I tried to keep the light focused ahead, but it was hard not to turn it on the various grunts and squeals and splashing and scratching of things clawing their way up into the trees. Then there was another explosion of stampeding animals from directly ahead, and I saw the vague white froth of the disturbance and felt the water as it slapped cold against us.

  “Crap,” I said aloud.

  I hadn’t meant to say it. I felt Liza come up against me and grab the waist of my pants. Francie trembled on my shoulders and I tightened my grip on her arm. I pulled and carried them along through this eerie isle of prisoners, feeling panic begin to rise within me, moving helplessly toward whatever lay ahead.

  Something large and black, grunting and woofing, paddled past us. I stopped and put my light on its face. The bear cocked its eyes at us but kept on. The sight was too much for Francie. She screamed, letting out everything she’d been holding in. The scream flared the panic into my chest as I imagined everything alerted to our approach.

  “It’s okay,” Liza said. “It’s just a black bear. It won’t hurt us.”

  But Francie was frantic. She hugged my head and squeezed her hands ar
ound my throat. I put the light in my mouth again and lifted my other hand from the water to hold her. Liza came past and pulled me forward.

  “Just keep on,” she said.

  The squealing noise pierced the storm again, followed by the splashing and grunts of animals in chaos. Francie continued to scream and clutch my head. I heaved forward to close the distance to the big mound.

  I heard more thrashing and grunting just to my left, and I swung the light and saw two alligators twisting and tearing at a hog carcass. A ringing sound filled my ears, and it felt like I was running through syrup.

  “Go!” I said. “Go!”

  26

  The mound was a hill of terror-stricken hogs and deer and other, smaller animals.

  I waved my light. “Hoa!” I yelled.

  They parted and scattered before us as we scrambled up the incline.

  I continued to wave the light and yell. “Hoa!”

  There were eyes everywhere. Things crashed off and scratched their way up trees on all sides. I hefted Francie under my arm, and we slipped and scraped our way up the leafy wetness.

  I had rightly guessed that the storm surge would never get high enough to cover the big mound, but we had an entirely different set of problems to deal with now. To the alligators we were no different from the pigs and the deer. The only thing we had going for us was that there were so many other animals to choose from. While the alligators could certainly come onto the land anytime they chose, I reasoned they’d stay in the shallows, where they had the lazy ease of drowning their prey. But as the water rose, they were going to rise with it. Getting out of the water wasn’t going to be good enough. We had to get off the ground, too.

  There were several trees growing on the mound, but none as large as the juniper at the top. And I hoped the branches were low enough that we could climb it. But there was no end to the dangers in this place. I knew any animals that could climb had the same idea.

  Liza had stopped. I crawled up beside her and gave her Francie. Then I took the light from my mouth and waved it around us. The deer had already scattered into the underbrush, but the hogs were bolder. Several small black ones hesitated before backing away. A giant rust-colored boar with six-inch yellow tusks stood his ground, fearless of the light.

  This is our ground, he seemed to say.

  I looked uphill and saw the trunk of the juniper and grabbed Liza’s arm.

  “We’re getting up in a tree over there,” I told her.

  Liza followed my gaze.

  “As this water comes up those pigs and alligators are coming up with it.”

  She nodded that she understood. “This could go on for days, Cort,” she said.

  “We’ll do what we have to do.”

  “Nobody knows we’re out here.”

  “Don’t think about that. We’ll think about getting back later.”

  Another pig squealed and thrashed from somewhere below us. I pulled Francie from her. “Come on, Liza,” I said. “This is the last thing we have to do tonight.”

  I stood with Francie and waved the light and yelled to keep the pigs back. We came to the juniper, and I set Francie down and shined the light up into it. The lowest branch was within reach. Liza suddenly yelped and I pulled the light away in time to see the rust-colored hog brush past her, knocking her into the leaves. I yelled at the beast and watched it stop and turn to us only feet away. Fearless. Nowhere else to go. Two more smaller hogs closed in behind it. I helped Liza to her feet and pulled her to the tree trunk.

  “Go,” I said. “I’ll help you up and give Francie to you.”

  She reached for the low limb and I grabbed her waist and shoved her. In a moment she was crouched above me, reaching down. I passed Francie to her, and then both of them were standing, hugging the trunk.

  “Keep going,” I said to Liza. “As high as you can. I’m right behind you.”

  A sharp pain sliced across my leg and something bulky and hairy knocked me against the tree. I knew instantly I’d been tusked by Rusty, but I didn’t have time to worry about it. I got to my feet again, reached for the low branch, and pulled myself up after the girls. The hogs closed in beneath us, blocking our escape.

  27

  I found the girls about ten feet up, Francie hugging the trunk and Liza facing her, holding on above her head. As big and stout as the tree was, it swayed and creaked against the wind. I came up the opposite side from them, my leg throbbing with pain. I put the light on it and saw a three-inch tear in my thigh. Blood ran down my leg, thin and pink and watered down like cherry Kool-Aid.

  “Cort!” Liza exclaimed.

  “I’ll be okay.”

  “It’s gonna get infected.”

  She was right. I imagined it was already crawling with all the invisible bacteria from the yellow pig tusk.

  “I’ll worry about it later,” I said. “I have to get you two comfortable.”

  I shined my light about. And then I flashed on something I hadn’t expected. Through the branches I caught sight of the black bear we’d seen earlier, clinging to a tree next to us. I studied it for a moment until it slowly turned its head and stared at me.

  “He climbed a tree, too,” Francie said.

  I hadn’t meant for her to see it, but for some reason the bear didn’t frighten her this time. I pulled the light away.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Mr. Bear’s got a treehouse just like us,” I said.

  “We can’t do this, Cort,” Liza said.

  I put my light on them. Their legs trembled with fatigue and their teeth chattered. Perched like we were, it wouldn’t be long before we collapsed and tumbled into the hogs below.

  “We have to,” I said. “Just hang on for a little longer. Keep the ants off her.”

  I snapped branches and placed them at my feet, using the limb I was standing on and another just around the trunk as supports. It didn’t take long to construct a rough bench. Then I took off my life vest and spread it for a cushion. In a moment I had Liza on the bench with Francie pulled close for warmth. The ends of the branches were still thick with juniper needles and berries.

  “Mr. Bear doesn’t have anything to sit on,” Francie said.

  “Mr. Bear is good at climbing trees,” I said. “He’s real comfortable.”

  “He can’t get over here, can he?” Liza asked.

  “No,” I said. “We’re fine. Start picking the berries. Chew ’em into a paste and rub it over yourselves. It’ll help with the ants. And give Francie a few to eat. She won’t like ’em, but chew it up for her and make her swallow.”

  Liza nodded.

  If it were any other girl but Liza with me, we’d be dead, I thought.

  I left them and moved about the tree with the light in my mouth, collecting more branches and returning with them to build out the platform. At one point I felt something sticky and abrasive on my wrist and held it before the light to see a cottonmouth transferring from the branch to my arm. I slung it off me and froze, breathing hard, fear humming in my ears.

  It was like I could hear Dad talking. Snakes are just cold and evil. You can’t breed it out of them. It’s like reptiles got a different God.

  I saw more of them, mostly draped on the ends of the branches, black and thick.

  We have to get rid of the snakes first, I thought. That’s more urgent than finishing the platform.

  I found a branch that I could make into a pole about the size of a broomstick. I wash-boarded the pole against the bark of the juniper until I had the knot spikes worn smooth. Then I returned to the girls, huddled wordlessly on the stick platform. Juniper needles and leaves clung to their skin.

  There was not enough room for me to sit, so I crouched beside them and leaned against the trunk for support.

  “You want to switch for a while?” Liza asked me.

  I shook my head.

  She continued to slowly chew the berry-like juniper cones.

  “Did you give Francie some?” I asked.

  Liza nodded.
r />   “Keeping chewing ’em,” I said. “Start rubbing it on your skin. It should help with the ants.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “I think I have. It won’t hurt to try.”

  “What about your leg?” she said.

  “It’s fine. We’ll put some on there, too.”

  She removed a bit of the paste from her mouth and pressed it tenderly into the wound. It burned, and I hoped that was a sign that it had some antiseptic qualities. When she was done I put the light in my mouth and smashed the compass against the tree. I kept the broken pieces in my fist and removed the largest of the glass shards. Then I began the tedious process of sharpening the pole.

  I quickly found that my hands were shaking too much and the glass shard was too small for me to get a purchase on. I located a split in one of the platform branches and pressed the glass into it, making something like a planer to draw the pole against.

  The rain wasn’t letting up. The only reprieve we had was when a gust of wind came against the backside of the trunk and blew the water around us. The hogs continued to squeal and grunt below. I counted five of the smaller black ones, plus Rusty, packed against the base of the tree. I didn’t see any deer, and assumed they were hidden somewhere in the underbrush beyond. It was still too dark to see far without the light, but I heard what must have been more of the beasts arriving at the base of the mound.

  “Dad,” I said.

  “What?” Liza said.

  I realized I was talking to myself and shook my head. “Nothing.”

  But I thought about him. In a strange way I sensed he was with me, telling me what to do, guiding my hands. I realized I was no more than the things he’d taught me. But why had he left me to face this alone? Where was he when I needed him most? I’d never felt so abandoned.

  28

  I crouched and huddled against the girls to try and keep them warm while the weather beat at my bare back. After a while I became numb to it, like something in a hard shell. I held them and it felt good not to have to think or do anything for a change.