Slither - Edward Lee [15]
So this was what providence had saved her for, to bring her back from the dead, for this.
"Yes sir!" the bearded one reveled. "She's a party, all right!"
"Been out in this hot swamp three days. I'll tell ya, this is just what the doctor ordered!"
More revel. The woman was raped again, for posterity, perhaps.
Drained by terror and exhausted, she lay pasty, naked, eyes wide in the next inevitable contemplation.
A Buck knife was put to her throat, her ATM card flashing before her stare. "PIN, lady."
She told him without hesitation.
The bearded one appeared to be urinating over the side. Then he dragged up his overalls. "Three more out there. Guess they smell the old bitch's fear."
"They do that, I heard."
She could hear more gators splashing into the water, homing in on the commotion.
Of course, they'd let her go! They know I have friends at the campgrounds! They won't kill me because they know they can't get away with it!
"I'll punch her ticket, and then we can leave," the longhair said, hoisting a crowbar over her head.
"No," the beard said.
Thank God! she thought. See, they weren't that stupid.
"Throw her in alive. More fun that way."
No! No! No!
Recompense for a life of deceit and shallow sin? Or just some pretty damn bad luck?
Like the woman's name, it didn't matter.
She didn't even have time to scream when she was tossed nude and thrashing into the water. The gators converged.
"We got a full load anyhow," the beard said. "Let's head back."
"Good idea. After all that, I could use a cold beer ..."
They watched for a few moments as the woman was hacked apart chunk by suntanned chunk. Then the boat's motor was started and off they went.
"Good goddamn! Life is sure good to us, ain't it?"
.You got that right ..."
The longhaired's name was Jonas. The bearded one's was Slydes.
(II)
"It just seems kind of bizarre is all I'm saying," Nora cited, setting out a row of specimen jars along the makeshift table they'd set up in the head shack. They'd already put up their tents at the campsite, and Annabelle had decided the light wasn't ideal for much photography today. Fine with me, Nora thought.
Loren plugged in the small field microscope, clicked the switch several times to make sure it worked. "You're not yourself today, you know?"
Nora winced. "Oh, bullshit, yes, I am!"
"All right, all right, forget I said that. So what is it? What's so bizarre?"
"Well, for one, the army guy. Trent. He's acting weird, isn't he?"
"No."
"Oh, bullshit!" she snapped.
"Hey, you asked." Loren's facial expression seemed a meld of amusement and confusion. "How can he be acting weird, Nora? You don't know him. So how do you know the difference between him acting weird and him acting normal?"
Nora slammed down an empty case. "Oh, blow me! You'd have to be a moron to not see it!"
"Well, I think my 159 IQ might contravene your assessment. What's your IQ, by the way?"
"Oh, blow me!" She huffed over to the next case of equipment. Nora's was 158, and Loren knew that. "Don't forget, buddy, I am your boss. You're my T.A. That stands for teaching assistant. You're still working on your doctoral degree and--oh, how do you like that? I already have mine, which is why I'm the professor and you're my assistant."
Loren laughed. "You do realize I was just joking."
"Yes!"
"So tell me, then. Why, exactly, is it your analysis that Lieutenant Trent is acting weird?"
Nora sighed. He's right. I'm not myself today, and I'm fully aware of that. "I don't know. The scenario, I guess."
"The scenario isn't exactly atypical, Nora," Loren pointed out. "We're zoological experts sent by the college to escort a field excursion, in this case a photographic one. National Geographic no less. That's pretty cool. They didn't ask anybody else in the state to do it. They asked us to do it. Any other time, you'd be so into this you'd be spinning