They only got about ten agonizing feet.
Then they heard it—the wheezing, water-clogged breath of the swamp creature—and they knew it had found them again.
“Go,” Chance whispered to Lance. “Warn Rosie. It came for the baby.”
“I’m not leaving,” Lance said.
“Save her,” Chance ordered.
With a fierce shove, Chance pushed Lance to the ground. He turned to face the creature. It was bloodied from the window, battered from its fall down the stairs. Injured and in pain.
Chance hobbled forward on one good leg. He clutched a knife in his right hand.
“Chance, no!”
“Just go!” Chance snapped. “Save Rosie. Get Thing. It wants the baby!”
“No!” Lance roared back.
THWAP, SPLAT!
A spray of black bile hit Chance across the chest and face. He fell immediately, numb and unable to move. The knife, glittering in the moonlight, fell from his grip.
The creature stepped forward. Its yellow eyes now fixed on Lance.
It opened its mouth to spit.
Lance alertly dove and tumbled to the right.
Then he jumped up and ran, bent low, around to the back of the house.
The swamp creature watched the boy disappear into the night. Pieces of glass had pierced her thick, alligator skin. Blood leaked from her body. She turned her attention to the fallen one on the ground.
What to do, what to do?
The next instant, the porch light turned on. Lance raced outside—he had entered the house from the back door. He pounded together two metal pots.
BANG, CLANG,
CLATTER!
The sounds were sharp and deafening.
Lance screamed and charged, “Arrrrrrgghh!”
The noisy display startled the swamp creature, dizzy from the loss of blood. She reared back, confused, here in the Land of the Others. The sharp, unnatural noise blared in her eardrums. In a swift motion, she lifted up Chance and moved toward the woods—to the dark places, the hidden spaces. The monster carried the boy over her shoulder all the way back to Dismal Swamp.
12
THE HARD BARGAIN
Before the adults woke, Lance and Rosalee walked the muddy path.
They barely spoke.
Lance held the handle of a cat carrier he had borrowed from Rosalee. Thing was inside it, quietly unhappy.
Rosalee tried to put words to the bad feeling that gnawed at her belly. “What if, you know…?”
Lance gritted his teeth. He stared forward. Kept walking. “He’s alive. I know it.”
“You can’t be positive,” Rosalee reasoned. “We have to make a plan that—”
“I know it!” Lance spat. He stopped in the middle of the path. “I feel him, Rosie. He’s my twin. We’re connected. Listen, I’m going out there and I’m not coming back until I bring him home. You can come with me or not, it won’t change what I’m set to do.”
Rosalee saw the conviction in his face. He looked fierce, powerful. “I’m coming,” she said.
They walked past duckweed and cattails and possum haw, past water hickory and cypress trees. Rosie spied a heron in the shallow water, spearing a fish with its long beak. The day grew hot. They had not eaten. Lance did not pause to rest. He walked on. Rosie struggled to match the boy’s determined pace.
At last, they came to the boat.
“What now?” Rosalee asked.
Lance didn’t reply. He unlocked the cage, reached in for Thing. The creature was quiet, watchful. Thing’s eyes widened. It mewled, a soft sound. Lance placed the creature inside the boat.
“Stay put now,” Lance whispered. “No swimming just yet. You’re going home.”
He moved waist deep into the foul, polluted water and pushed the boat across the swamp, to the place where they had first spotted the swamp creature.
Silence. Not a bird sang, not a creature stirred.
The boat slowly drifted to the opposite bank.
Lance and Rosalee watched, shoulder to shoulder.
With a jerk, the boat came to a stop at the far shore. A gentle breeze kicked up. Spanish moss—what the locals call “tree hair”—swayed from the branches.
And out she stepped, as Lance knew she would. The proud creature of the swamp. The mother moved to the boat and tenderly, lovingly, lifted Thing into her arms.
Lance stepped out into plain sight.
“Fair’s fair,” he called out.
The mother gazed at Lance through yellow eyes. They stood for a long moment, two creatures from different worlds, working out their differences. A sudden turn and she was gone. The swamp monster and her child retreated back into the safe, dark places.
More silence, more waiting.
Lance did not move.
“Lance?” Rosalee whispered.
“I ain’t moving,” he said. “I’ll stand here forever if I have to.”
Long minutes slithered by. Bugs buzzed and bit. Time passed on the swamp. Lance made no move.
And then, movement in the trees. He appeared. Chance hobbled toward the boat, looking haggard and ill. He gazed across the water at Lance and gave a half smile. He lifted a finger in greeting, and fell into the boat.
Somehow, Chance mustered the strength to give three pulls on the paddle, enough to move the craft across the still water.
As soon as the boat reached him, Lance hugged his twin. Rosalee climbed onto the boat, checking his wounds. “He’s gonna be all right,” she said to Lance. “His ankle’s swelled up real bad, black and blue. We need to get him to a doctor.”
“I know it,” Lance said.
Chance raised a weakened hand. Lance took it in his, then squeezed.
“Thanks, brother,” Chance said through dry, sun-chapped lips.
Lance nodded. “You’d do the same for me.”
“We best not let Mom find out about this,” Chance said, his soft voice like a rustle in the trees. Somehow he managed a sly grin.
“She’d never believe us anyhow,” Lance replied.
“We’ll have some explaining to do,” Chance said. “We kind of left the house in a mess.”
“Guess you’re right,” Lance said.
“Doors and windows can be fixed,” Rosalee said. “But family, that’s forever.”
The two boys grinned, together again, the way they liked it. Twins forever connected. Brothers.
* * *
And somewhere in the unseen swamp, a mother and her little one swam together for the first time in the safe dark, the good dark.
My baby, she thought.
My very own.
SO THERE YOU HAVE IT. A TENDER TALE OF TWO FAMILIES.
LOVELY, WASN’T IT?
AND NOT SO SCARY, RIGHT?
LANCE AND CHANCE LARUE WERE TWO ORDINARY BOYS. A LITTLE MISCHIEVOUS, BUT HARDLY MONSTERS.
AND THAT MAMA IN THE SWAMP? SHE SURE LOVED HER BABY TO DEATH. SO WHAT IF SHE WAS COVERED IN SCALES AND BLISTERS, WITH YELLOW EYES AND SHARP CLAWS?
OF COURSE, LANCE AND CHANCE SHOULD HAVE NEVER TAKEN THAT EGG. IT’S NOT A GOOD IDEA TO COME BETWEEN ANY MOTHER AND HER CHILD. ESPECIALLY THIS ONE. SHE SPITS POISON WHEN SHE’S ANGRY.
BUT HERE’S THE QUESTION: WHO WAS THE REAL MONSTER IN THIS SCARY TALE?
THAT’S FOR YOU TO DECIDE.
SQUILCH, SQUILCH, SQUILCH.
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ABOUT THE AUTHORS
James Preller is the author of the popular Jigsaw Jones mystery books, which have sold more than 10 million copies since 1998. He is also the author of Bystander, named a 2009 Junior Library Guild Selection, Six Innings, an ALA Notable Book, and Mighty Casey, his own twist on the classic poem, “Casey at the Bat.” In addition to writing full-time, Preller plays in a men’s hardball league and coaches Little League. He compares coaching kids to “trying to hold the attention of a herd of earthworms.” He lives in Delmar, New York with his wife, three children, cats and dog. You can
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IACOPO BRUNO is a graphic artist and illustrator who lives in Italy. He illustrated James Preller’s Home Sweet Horror, I Scream, You Scream!, Good Night, Zombie, and Nightmareland. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT NOTICE
DEDICATION
1 PLUNK, SPLAT, GLORP, SPLURGE …
2 SWAMP PET
3 THE LITTLE MONSTER
4 ROSALEE SERENA RUIZ
5 THUNDER IN THE WOODS
6 THE CREATURE OF THE SWAMP
7 UNDER THE WATER
8 THE HUNT
9 FULL DARK
10 THE CHASE
11 CAPTURED
12 THE HARD BARGAIN
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
COPYRIGHT
A FEIWEL AND FRIENDS BOOK
An Imprint of Macmillan
SWAMP MONSTER. Text copyright © 2015 by James Preller. Illustrations copyright © 2015 by Iacopo Bruno. All rights reserved. For information, address Feiwel and Friends, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Preller, James.
Swamp monster / James Preller; illustrated by Iacopo Bruno. — First edition.
pages cm. — (Scary tales; 6)
Summary: Twins Lance and Chance LaRue are seeking a pet in the swamp near their Texas shack when they happen upon an egg and bring it home to hatch, but the creature’s mother finds them, determined to rescue her little one.
ISBN 978-1-250-04097-8 (hardback) — ISBN 978-1-250-04523-2 (trade paperback) — ISBN 978-1-250-08020-2 (ebook) [1. Brothers—Fiction. 2. Twins—Fiction. 3. Monsters—Fiction. 4. Pets—Fiction. 5. Swamps—Fiction. 6. Horror stories.] I. Bruno, Iacopo, illustrator. II. Title.
PZ7.P915Sw 2015 [Fic]—dc23 2014049282
Feiwel and Friends logo designed by Filomena Tuosto
First Edition: 2015
eISBN 9781250080202
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Swamp Monster Page 3