by catt dahman
Buford rolled off the girl, finishing with a groan, and he trailed the razor knife along the back of her leg. She screeched but rolled to her stomach. Audra decided her mouth hurt most. Her lips hurt so badly she thought she’d die; she couldn’t think about it. Her teeth were a misery. Her breast stung and throbbed. Her leg ached. Her insides felt raw and torn up. Everything hurt as if she were rolled in fire.
If she had the strength and ability, she would make these men pay; her hatred blazed.
Faintly, she remembered there were sharks, and she knew there were alligators in the water. The water itself was rancid, filled with sewage and rotting corpses, and it smelled worse than anything imaginable, and she knew it would infect her wounds badly. She still crawled to the railing.
Get away, Heal. Get revenge.
Tammany and Lougenia moved to the man on the deck and began to expertly dress him. They knew not to open the bowels but to carve away the best parts while keeping the meat clean and tasty. Tammany had been doing this for four years since she was six, and Lougenia had six years’ experience. Amadee never taught the skills before a person was ready in age and maturity.
Audra turned her head to watch Amadee turn her male companion over and help remove his clothing. She didn’t know him, but he had washed up with the two men and waited for help. The Audette girls sliced off the man’s buttocks, chattering all the time. He didn’t deserve this treatment. None of them did.
Up on some box or something sitting there staring into nothing, was a boy who had a totally blank face except for his eyes that watched the action with interest.
Besides her injuries, Audra felt a deep pain in her gut, watching him. He was wicked and repulsive, worse than the ones who had raped, cut, and bitten her. She knew that she was in the midst of pure evil on more than one level. More than anything, even if they hurt her worse, she wanted to be away from them.
She scooted under the railing head first towards the water, reaching and leaning. She took a deep breath, unsure when she might fall into the water and have to swim. Her legs were all that remained on the deck, her cut leg throbbing with her heartbeat. She reached with her hands and head…down….
Buford slapped his leg, laughing, “Did ya see that?” It had happened fast and unexpectedly. A splash, maybe a groan, and another splash, and blood spurted.
Amadee chuckled, “Shark was mighty hungry; dey fish were.”
Buford pulled Audra back, her corpse now headless. He thought about using her once more, but wasn’t sure if a headless girl turned him on or not. Her body, thin and dirty, looked pretty good, except for where he bit a hunk out of her breast, but having sexual congress with a headless girl seemed, well, kind of perverted in a way.
“Ya think she’s…yanno?” Buford asked.
“What in the hell? Bad enough you did what you did, but come on…she’s headless,” snapped Virgil. He never carved or used the gals. He didn’t eat much of the meat. He was one Audette who sure didn’t fit with the family, but they were half-brothers and adopted Audettes, so he stood off while they did the wet work. Buford and Amadee were used to it and highly experienced.
“Don’t guess you’d help me carve her?” Buford teased his brother.
“You know I don’t like it. It’s wrong, Buford.”
“You sissy.”
“Say whatever you want,” Virgil said.
“But Virg…the flood...look at the waters; ain’t gonna be soon anyone comes to help us. And do you wanna be rescued by them FEMA people? They’ll wash ya down with chemicals, give you a suit of clothes, separate us, and put us in de trailers. How do you feel about seeing Maude and Eloi grabbed up? They’d adopt out Gussy and Dempsey. What about Clovis? What would they do with a retard?”
“Buford Audette. Mind yer mouth. He ain’t retarded; he ain’t. He is different,” Amadee said gruffly, pausing in his cutting to scratch his ear and look at Clovis sitting up on the supply box.
That boy stared an awful lot and never showed a thing. But he was different, and that was all. Amadee didn’t have retarded children.
“Besides, FEMA doesn’t adopt away children,” Virgil frowned. If someone did give away the children to be raised by others, they’d be better off than with Amadee Audette as a father.
“You don’t know that. Do you want to be away from de family and in some fancy camp?” Buford asked in disgust.
Virgil chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking. Yes, he did want that. Getting away from the swamp and his crazy, inbred, heartless family and living in a clean place sounded like a dream come true.
Tammany went to help Buford since he was about finished flaying the man. Ghislaine came and went, bringing bowls and taking full ones inside. She said, “Momma says she’s gonna make boudin, so clean the guts good for her. She wants the hearts and livers.”
“Now, dat’s why I married Leonie fer sure. She can cook.” Amadee went about taking out the guts and cleaning them well. Usually one made boudin with cleaned pig intestine, but guts are guts, and it didn’t matter what Leonie used. The gut would be filled with a delicacy; she took organ meat such as the heart, and liver, (if it were pork) (the same two plus, gizzards if it were chicken) and chopped it fine with more flesh, rice, red hot peppers, garlic and seasonings, bell pepper, green onions, and celery (always the holy trinity of vegetables). It could be served that way as dirty rice, but once packed into sausages, it could be steamed, grilled, smoked, poached, or fried for a delicious meal served with hot sauce and crackers. As a side, a big bucket of crawfish could be served when they came into season.
“She’s gonna make poutine, too.” Tammany told them. It was a favorite of the family: roasted pork (or whatever was meat that day) with a thick, rich gravy and served over rice.
In time, the usable meat was rendered, and the bones and leftovers pushed over board for the sharks and alligators if they wanted them. It was doubtful with so many dead from the storm that anyone would think these bodies had been destroyed by anything more than the local wildlife.
Ghislaine and Bella dipped water from the side of the boat, careful not to fall in. They used the buckets of dirty water to scrub the blood and mess from the deck, working with coarse brushes until the wood was clean again, or if not sanitary, at least clean of blood.
The Audettes had plenty to eat as they floated through the bayou.
So did the sharks and alligators.
Chapter Six: Sharks
Bull sharks swam through the destruction of New Orleans, one of the most aggressive types of sharks, prone to swimming and hunting in rivers and brackish water, as well as the sea. They preferred the ocean, but the seawater had mixed with the lakes, rivers, and bayou, and they swam inland, their kidneys and gills adjusting to the change in water.
With broad, strong snouts, they were big specimens, nine feet long and weighing over three hundred pounds. Bull sharks were named for their broad, heavy appearance, and if compared to leaner sleeker sharks, they did seem more bullish and bulky.
Five of them hunted together. They preferred the shallows but didn’t mind the deeper waters in the least. They swam through trees as well as dodged submerged buildings, sunken street signs, and floating debris.
Bull sharks were infamous for attacks on swimmers along shallow coastal areas and shallow rivers. The five sharks aggressively nosed some floating corpses, ignoring them after finding them dead, breaching the surface at times to search for prey, and swimming quickly around the flooded city, racing away from the dead.
Although some bull sharks had, in the past, drifted up the Mississippi curiously, attacking anything that looked and smelled interesting, these five had never been in the brackish water before but adjusted to the mixture of fresh water mixed with salt. The sewage in the water was most stimulating to them. They used their acute sense of smell, felt for vibrations in the water, and even used tiny electrical impulses for their hunt.
A female alligator, eleven feet long and in a foul mood, challenged the outsiders and p
ut up a good fight, but they descended upon her, ripping open her belly and leaving her to the bottom feeders: turtles and small fish. Her body, heavy with scales and leather-like, sank low, draping in pieces over the seesaw in a flooded playground park.
Because the bull sharks are lone hunters, it was abnormal to find five Bull sharks swimming and hunting together, so they were in the bayou for a specific reason. They were possessed with Baka or Shedim animal forms taken by certain spirits as a favor for a Bokar, or a prince among voodoo practitioner, not that any of that mattered to them. To them, they were present to feed.
The fish were called by a power, not to control or to use them, but to allow them to do what they did best: hunt and kill indiscriminately.
Bull sharks were a balance for the bayou; they were there to remove and cleanse the evil and righteous alike. Balance is a difficult element to achieve; in fact, it is nearly impossible, especially for creatures not of rational thought but of blood thirst and instinct.
As in Psalms, the sharks shed a vast amount of blood, became unclean, and went astray with their acts.
Chapter Seven: Houseboat
“Pull alongside, Amadee; we can at least check,” Frank asked again.
“Do ye know how hard dis is for me to make sure everyone is fed? And Leonie and the gals cook and clean all dey time. We can’t take on more people. We can’t afford you here, to be honest.”
Frank nodded, noticing that with just him and Amadee on the deck, the other man’s accent was far less extreme, “I appreciate your help, but you know my girls and Abagail and the rest are helping you as well. I just feel we should check on those people before we head back toward my house.”
Amadee frowned. The plan was to steer back to Frank’s big house and scavenge linens and other supplies they thought they might need. Frank’s remark was to remind Amadee that Frank was giving away supplies and, therefore, could ask a small favor.
Amadee was in a fair-enough mood. The man and women they rendered the day before had supplied plenty of stews, boudin, side dishes, and roasts. Everyone was filled up. Replenishing the pots might prove difficult since Frank and his people were watchful. Amadee would need to be clever.
“Dat house seem to be setting der fine. Buford, let’s tie up over der and sees about dem folks what’s waving us down,” Amadee called out.
“We ain’t got de room, Daddy.”
“Did I ask you, Buford?” He said it as axed. Amadee and Frank shared a fatherly glace between them, rolling their eyes about back-talking children. “It ain’t none of my business (said as bid-ness), but Frank, I am might disturbed ‘bout how your woman talk to my Candy Lynn. What for she all up in arms for?”
“You know how the racism lives on, Amadee. That’s it right there. Now, I taught my children to love everyone and to be kind, and you know I have colored employees…like family to me. Emeline isn’t the same.”
Amadee nodded slyly, “I’se don’t worry so much about dey words…even iffa dey about my girl and grandbaby, but it shames me for you something awful, hearing a woman act so uppity and wearin’ the pants.”
Frank frowned. He hadn’t thought of that before. The dull ache of his temples increased. He dimly wondered why he hadn’t taken control and settled the situation himself. His forefathers wouldn’t have allowed a woman so much power that was for sure. He made a note to think about this more when he had time.
He faintly wondered why he was listening to anything Amadee Audette said.
Before them, a house sat with half the upper story and half the balcony ripped away, exposing the interior of the home. Several people waved for help, all of them with the same blank, strained faces; dirty, sweat-dampened clothing; and slumped bodies. Real food, hot showers, cold water, and deep sleep were all they needed, but all were impossible ideals, dreams that couldn’t be grasped. The basic needs were not being met on the same level as the people were used to.
A man, sweat stains below his armpits, smiled tiredly, “Do you have news? What have you heard?”
“Just what we have seen,” Frank called back, “nothing much…no word on any help or rescue. Sorry.”
“Nothing?”
“As far as we’ve seen, there’s nothing but dirty water and death, and no one doing much yet, I mean this far in. We saw some choppers and heard boats far away, but there’s so much destruction it’ll take days to get this far inland.”
“That’s what we feared,” he told the people; he was Mike. He struggled to figure out who these people on the houseboat were. One man was well spoken and seemed a Southern gentleman; the other was rough and seemed to be from the bayou. What they had in common, Mike didn’t know. “They’ll get to the ones easily reached first…so many, I’m sure. I guess they have tens of thousands needing help around the edges of the flood and in neighborhoods…downtown,” Mike said as he stared at the ground with depression, wondering how long they would be here, forgotten. He didn’t blame the rescuers, but he hated it.
“You all doing okay?” a young man asked. He said his name was Beau; he was clean and well spoken as well, but beside him was another young man with intelligent eyes and who was handsome, but spoke with a more Cajun accent. That was Virgil. They both asked about the people with Mike and introduced themselves.
“We seem to be. We have enough food and water. For us.” Mike wondered why the hairs on his arms stood on end with his chill bumps. He thought, now too late, that for all he knew, these were raiders and looters. He wished he had a gun.
After a hurricane or something worse, it should be that survivors would band together and be heroes for one another, helping and sharing, but while some were this way, others wanted to steal or do worse. Seeing women aboard the houseboat made Mike feel better than if it had been all men.
Children scampered underfoot until sent back below. That scene made Mike relax seeing the kids running about. People with women and children were less dangerous, he thought. Had he read about that in some preppers’ book or an apocalypse novel? Maybe.
“Have you seen the sharks? In the water?” Beau called out, feeling a little silly to bring it up if they hadn’t because the people would think he was crazy.
Mike nodded to Frank, “They came up with the water, I guess.” Behind his back, he motioned the rest of the people with him to stay back and not come out onto the torn-up balcony. He didn’t want to cause trouble, so he didn’t invite the strangers to tie up to the house, but he didn’t complain or ask them to stay away, either, “I thought they were sharks when I saw the fins. They…umm…well there were some more people out there on something floating, and the sharks circled them a while and whatever they were on floated around behind us and….”
“What happened?” Virgil asked.
“I didn’t see. We heard thrashing in the water and some screaming, and the fins were gone a long time. I felt as if the people didn’t make it.”
“That’s too bad.”
Mike nodded, “I would have bet ‘gators would be around but not sharks, and I think the big fish scared off the ‘gators.”
“Yep, de fish dey scares all away,” Buford mused.
“Dey’s a rainstorm a comin’,” Amadee said, “I hope you won’t mind us tying dey boat here for dey night? Frank ‘ere says y’all might be a needed some help?” He watched the sky, the same dull grey it had been since the storm. It was humid, but the sun didn’t even peek out; it would be better to bake than to steam.
Frank shrugged, “I mean, do you need anything? I said we couldn’t go by without asking and checking.”
“I can’t say we do particularly, but make yourselves at home if you need to tie up,” Mike reluctantly offered. He tried to shrug off the unease.
“I say we have some boudin we can share. Would dat be fine to have some fresh boudin, and we have dey stew we can share?”
Mike heard his own stomach growl. His mood lightened at once, “Now that sounds delicious. I’ll take you up on that offer.” The strangers offered food, and
that was a sure sign they were okay folks. Fresh food sounded wonderful to him since they were living off cold, canned food.
The women on the boat brought out food to share and soon were chatting with the women who were with Mike in the battered house. They told Mike and the others all they had seen and been through in the waters. They couldn’t add to the news or give any information to the others, but they related how bad the flooding was all over.
Leonie and Frank’s kin, Marie and Nita, and Abagail were friendly and helpful. Leonie was amazed with how kind the rich women were and how wonderfully they treated Abagail; Leonie realized she had judged them for being rich and without knowing them. She had thought them snobs and figured they would shun her, but they treated her as if she were just the same as them.
“Where would you like this pot?” Nita asked Leonie.
Leonie paused for a second, amazed again that anyone asked her opinion and listened, “Over there, maybe?”
“Makes sense. Thanks.”
“Sure,” Leonie said. Candy Lynn said some of the Theriot family was very nice and welcoming to her, and she had seen that for herself. It was a shame that Landry had turned his back on his wife and baby, and that made Leonie boiling angry.
Jules, the teens from the Audette family, and the teens from the house claimed a room of their own and began to laugh, sing, and enjoy new companionship. Leonie and Maria saw them all having fun and shared a smile.
“It’s better they relax a little, I guess.”
“I agree.”
“How do ya feel about yer step mama not coming along?” Leonie dared to ask.
Marie shrugged, “She’s been horrible since the storm and birth began. She was really nasty to Candy Lynn. She’s always been kind of mean to her. To be honest, I’m glad those two stayed behind ‘cause I was about to slap one of them. I wish Landry had stayed back, too.”