by Jay Harez
Major Brite recognized the risk.
“Understood,” Major Brite said.
“I got a good look at the place. It’s set up like the Pueblo Indians with lots of cutouts in the walls for shelters and hand carved walk ways but most of them sort of live down in this giant recessed area - it’s a pit I guess. It may be possible to get past them,” Pirogue said.
Major Brite pulled out the map and placed it on the ground.
“Show me exactly where.” Major Brite said.
It took some time but eventually the group made it to a safe vantage point where Major Brite could look down into the pit Pirogue had described. He watched intently for a few minutes then quietly crept back to the group.
“They’re leaving. It’s a mass exodus and like Pirogue pointed out it’s mostly old people, children and women. I did see a couple of bruisers but they were carrying large trunks or the infirm,” Major Brite said.
“Where to?” Lloyd, Sr. asked.
“What?” Major Brite asked.
“They certainly aren’t taking the route that has our men working at the top so how are they planning to get out?” Lloyd, Sr. asked.
“Pirogue asked earlier about how they ate and got up to whatever hellish mischief they do,” Lloyd Jr said.
“I could follow them...at a safe distance of course and see where they’re going. Their route might be easier for the injured,” Alcott said.
Lloyd Jr. had forgotten Alcott was with them. Lloyd Jr. thought about the others. Preet, Tyonne, Guilbeaux, Eleanor, Sotolongo, Landry, and Hillock all gone in a matter of hours. Dead, thousands of feet below, never to be seen again as if they had never been born.
He was having a hard time reconciling the fact that twenty-four hours ago he couldn’t think of anything but the money he would be able to put toward a truck of his own. At the time he was excited about the adventure of breaking routine and doing something that had never been done before - a government project on a government holiday. And truth be told he had considered taking that little convenience store clerk to a nice restaurant, maybe in Lafayette even.
He was suffering from Battle Fatigue. Lloyd Sr. had told him that a man can only be in fear for his life for so long before it changes that man forever, and sometimes he loses his mind completely.
Lloyd Jr. dreaded the thought of failing his father in that regard. He hated the image of himself running around like a lunatic and putting everyone else’s life at risk because he couldn’t handle the situation. He decided he would have to handle this now and deal with what came after, after.
The group moved as quietly as they could toward the vantage point the Major had found. It was as he described; a mass exodus of the wretched. They spoke in a language that was a mix of traditional French, Creole and what sounded like German.
The spectacle was a sad affair and difficult to watch. A few stragglers skittered around the ‘village’ looking for anything of value then they would turn and sprint in the direction of the main group.
Once they were gone Alcott made his way down into the recently vacated area and quietly followed behind them. Minutes stretched and then Alcott was running back toward the group. He arrived slightly winded and enthused.
“Sir it’s doable. We can make it out but…” Alcott paused.
“Take a moment, report as you can,” Major Brite said.
“They took the passage you saw for about fifty yards, then they went through this really big room and... sir it’s a horror show down there, real heavy shit. But on the other side of that room are some stairs. They look hand carved but they look to go all the way to ground level. There also appears to be an entire truck smashed up pretty badly. One of ‘em was crushed underneath it,” Alcott said.
“Okay it sounds like we have our route. Alcott you’re on point. Make sure we don’t bump into any stragglers. If you do, handle it quietly we don’t need to go sounding the alarm and bringing them back,” Major Brite said.
“Yes sir.” Alcott said and quickly set off again.
“Mr. Dougette, can you walk?” Major Brite asked.
“Let me give it a try.” Lloyd Sr. said as he attempted to stand. With the help of Pirogue and Lloyd Jr. he was able to be propped up but then his legs became wobbly.
Lloyd Jr. looked at his father in earnest for the first time since the brawl. He had been trying to avoid considering the extent of his father’s injuries but now he had to address it. Lloyd Sr.’s shirt was open revealing his torso wrapped in duct tape. He was bleeding through the gaps in the tape and Lloyd Jr. thought for a moment he saw signs of his father's entrails.
“Maybe I should rest a bit,” Lloyd Sr. said as Pirogue and Lloyd, Jr. lowered him back onto the gurney.
“I don’t suppose you boys brought any boudin?” Lloyd Sr. asked.
“No sir I’m afraid we are a pitiful representation of America’s armed forces,” Major Brite said holding back a grin.
“Well, when asked about your performance today I’ll avoid mentioning your failure to prepare, but this is a sad day for our national defense,” Lloyd, Sr. said smiling.
The group arrived in the large pit where the creatures had gathered before their journey and met up with Alcott.
“Papa where do you think they’ll go?” Lloyd Jr. asked. It was a legitimate question but it was more to determine his father’s lucidity.
“I was just wondering about that myself. Not sure how I would relocate and hide that many people. I imagine it’s going to be a difficult journey,” Lloyd Sr. said.
“Granted, they are people in a manner of speaking but...I know dozens of children have gone missing in this area over the last twenty years. Theft of things like camping supplies and frozen meat from grocery stores have always happened with a little more frequency here than other parishes. It may be best we not think about where they are going and just say good riddance,” Alcott said.
“That would work but when we get to the top we are going to have to tell somebody something,” Lloyd Jr. said.
A whimpering sound came from a small teepee made out of a dirty sheet and some wire hangers. It was set apart from the other similar structures. Major Brite approached the hut and using the barrel of his rifle pulled the sheet aside.
There, on its back, lay a small baby, missing one arm and having exceptionally large eyes. Brite picked it up and returned to the group.
“Are you joking!?” Alcott asked.
“You find the humor in any of this you let me know,” Brite said as he offered the baby a few drops of water from his canteen.
“How are we going to...what are you going to do with it?” Alcott asked.
“It, is a she, that is very thirsty and I am going to take her out of this devil’s privy. If that meets with your fucking approval of course,” Major Brite said.
“It’s one of those things though, it’s…” Alcott started.
“Do you propose I kill this little girl? What is wrong with you?” Major Brite asked.
“You gonna tell them about all the things we killed down here? That monster with the machete or the screaming claw-woman? We take that story up and we’ll all get a section eight,” Alcott said.
“We are Army Reservists! We do not abandon suffering people because they are different. You took an oath when you signed on…” Brite said.
“Yeah, yeah, all enemies foreign and domestic,” Alcott finished.
“And obey the orders of the President of the United States, the Governor of Louisiana, and the orders of the officers appointed over you. That’s me.” Major Brite said.
“Major I heard about you. You having to the be hero of the day every goddam day. I know how come you got that glass eye and I know…”
Alcott didn’t get to finish telling the group what else he knew because he was stumbling backwards clutching his bleeding nose. Major Brite had punched him so quickly that were it not for Alcott’s reaction and the smacking sound the blow would have gone unnoticed.
Major Brite handed the baby to Pirogue and
stood facing Alcott.
“Lieutenant, for the record, I have noted your concern. Do you have anything to add?” Major Brite asked.
Alcott staggered a bit and looked around. He was humiliated and hurt. No one else moved for the space of a heartbeat when the newest member of their party pointed it’s one hand at Alcott and said: “Bad.” All of the men looked at the infant who was grinning and gurgling as a child would.
Lloyd Jr. didn’t know the first thing about babies. However, he was certain that no child that young should be articulating words let alone grasping abstract concepts like good and bad. The child was clearly different.
“Take point,” Major Brite said.
Alcott recovered himself and set off ahead of the rest of the party without saying a word.
“Looks like you found a friend College,” Lloyd, Sr. said as the baby cooed and dozed off in Pirogue’s arms.
the CHAMBER
The party finally reached the chamber Alcott had told them about, it was massive. Torches burned along the walls and lighted Coleman lanterns were placed at random on the floor.
The conflicting shadows gave it an otherworldly dimension in addition to tinting everything red. It was a hellscape made real and as Alcott had reported Preet's truck was over to one side with one of the Grunchers crushed beneath.
Car parts had been piled near animal skulls. Sheets and carpets were hung on the walls like tapestries. Every now and again one would flutter revealing a cutout chamber behind it that no one was inclined to investigate.
In the center of the room was a large fire pit and Gilbeaux's body floated suspended on a spit for roasting. In their haste to depart the Grunchers had left his body unattended and he was slightly charred on one side. His face reflected the terror of a man skinned alive.
Clothing ranging in size from infant to adult hung on lines held up by fence posts. Alligator hides lay piled in a corner stacked like firewood. Rabbit bones and rattlesnake hides were in separate piles.
A large block of wood sat to one side with dozens of knives and an axe partially embedded in it.
“What in God’s name?” Pirogue asked.
A rusted wind chime made dull clanging noises as they passed. Beyond the fire pit where Guilbeaux roasted was an opening in the floor about six feet wide. The stench coming from it told the party that this was the communal waste system. The group gave it a wide berth and marched a little closer to the dwelling holes in walls.
Ahead they saw a small road flare burning on the ground. Just beyond it was a wide doorway.
“Alcott’s flare,” Pirogue asked.
As the group approached the signal a large hand materialized out of the shadows and grabbed Lloyd, Jr. by his throat. The torso creature had sprung from one of the alcoves, latched on, and was not letting go. It and Lloyd, Jr. fell to the ground.
Lloyd Sr. quickly but shakily got to his feet and lunged at the creature. He jabbed his fillet knife into its ribs repeatedly. Major Brite attacked from the other side using the butt of his rifle to continuously strike the creature in the head.
The monster realized that it was outmatched and divided its attention between Lloyd, Sr. and Major Brite. It hit Brite in the stomach and he doubled over. Brite drew his combat knife and went after the creature. The creature put Lloyd, Sr. in a headlock and rolled on its back. Lloyd, Sr.’s bandages were torn away and blood quickly covered both of them.
With its free hand the creature reached for Lloyd, Jr. again and was stabbed through the wrist by Major Brite pinning its arm to the floor. The creature maintained its frozen grin while it fought against the restraint.
Lloyd, Sr.’s face drained of color, he had lost too much blood and the creature would not let go. Lloyd, Jr. tried prying its arm loose to no avail. Major Brite began pounding the creature with his fists. Finally, the creature let go of Lloyd, Sr. to grab Major Brite by the leg. It opened its mouth exposing several eye-teeth and attempted to bite him.
The creature was stopped by a bullet from Ingram. The creature paused for only a moment then lunged toward the waste pit still holding Major Brite’s leg. The two were over the edge and out of site in an instant.
“Oh God what did I do? I thought I... oh God I killed Brite. I…” Ingram muttered.
“Listen to me,” Wells said. “It was an accident. You didn’t kill anybody! You hear me?! You didn’t kill anybody!”
Lloyd, Jr. knelt over his father. Lloyd, Sr. couldn’t speak and his eyes were vacant. Lloyd, Sr. reached into his back pocket and pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to Lloyd, Jr.
“Dad?” was all Lloyd, Jr. could ask before his father closed his eyes. Lloyd, Sr. would never see the surface again.
Pirogue led carrying the baby, followed by Lloyd, Jr. then Ingram and Wells made it to the base of the stairs and began their ascent in silence. The going was easier than they had anticipated. The steps were well formed as if by master masons. Lloyd, Jr. was only marginally aware of the trek. His life had just taken a sudden and violent turn. He felt the vacancy left by his father in every breath.
They lost track of how long they had been on the winding stair case. In some places it spiraled around the black and seemingly bottomless shaft. At other times it was a series of switchbacks along one wall. There was no sign of a guardrail or handhold anywhere along the way.
The men heard a rumbling noise below them. It was distant and sounded like waves crashing against rocks. It was followed by a shuffling noise. They looked back the way they had come but their helmet lights were meant for close work and not distance. The rumbling got louder but they still couldn’t see anything.
Soon they heard squeaking noises and the sound of tiny claws on stone. From one of the alcoves ten pairs of bright red eyes caught the reflection of the men’s helmets.
“What the hell now?!” Pirogue asked.
One of the reservists lit a road flare and dropped it down the shaft. As it fell the walls below appeared to be moving upward.
“Rats!” Lloyd, Jr. said.
Then they heard the rumble again. It was a low and quiet sound like an idling diesel engine.
“Fastwater! Run!” Lloyd, Jr. said.
“Hey! What the hell’s going on down there?” shouted Alcott from a hundred feet above.
“Run!” Pirogue shouted back up.
The rumble got louder.
“Up,” the baby said pointing up the stairs.
The entire shaft began to vibrate. It was small at first but it grew in intensity.
The group began to move at a faster pace. A rat leapt on Wells and he lost his footing. Ingram attempted to grab him and both vanished down the shaft.
“Damnit!” Pirogue shouted.
Pirogue was carrying the baby in one arm and moving as quickly as he could but he was tiring.
A rat leapt at Pirogue. The baby caught it in mid-flight, bit its head off and threw the body down the shaft. It spit out the head then dozed off again.
The rumble grew louder and the first clouds of dust and salt mixed with a hint of methane began to rise to Pirogue and Lloyd, Jr.’s level. The lights from their helmets only emphasized the haze. Visibility shrank with each new rumble from below. The rats now ran up the walls all around them squeaking and clawing their way to the top in greater numbers. Rats lost their grip and fell back down the shaft by the hundreds.
They three climbed blindly and silently apart from an occasional cough. Lloyd, Jr. decided he was not going to die under with no one to tell his story and redoubled his efforts. He overtook Pirogue and grabbed the baby as he passed him on the narrow steps.
Unburdened, Pirogue increased his speed and soon the two could smell the earthy aroma of the bayou. Though neither was certain if the smell was coming from below or above.
Lloyd, Jr. reached for the next step and tumbled forward into a man-made drainage pipe with Pirogue close behind.
The rats swarmed over and past them. Lloyd, Jr. did what he could to keep the rats away from the baby who had chosen no
w to remain asleep. The pipe was large enough for a man to stand in and both of them quickly regained their footing. In the distance they could see a dim light and the two immediately set off for it as fast as they could run.
Lloyd, Jr. skidded to a halt at the opening and dropped into a retention pond of knee-deep water. Pirogue did the same thing landing right behind him. Immediately the two realized they were surrounded by Grunchers.
It was nighttime and Alcott’s body lay floating face down in the pond with a knife in his back.
There were dozens of them but they were not like the ones they had seen before. These were the ones Alcott had discovered, the elderly and the young and sickly, armed with sharpened sticks, crudely made knives and clubs.
Lloyd, Jr. wondered what kind of fight this was going to be when an older woman approached him and extended her hands. Lloyd, Jr. had forgotten about the baby for the moment but quickly handed her over.
The baby woke for just a moment, pointed at Lloyd, Jr. and Pirogue and said: “Good.”
The Grunchers turned in unison and walked away into the swamp.
Pirogue and Lloyd, Jr. stood watching the group disappear among the giant Cypress trees. From the opposite direction they heard the sounds of people and machinery. The two were outside the mines fence and less than one hundred yards from the cafeteria.
HOPKINS STREET
“I had a closed casket funeral for my father. There was a massive combined memorial for the reservists and the miners. Probably the most people this town has ever seen all at once.” the old man said. “The governor even showed,”
“For months afterward reporters came around wanting to know what happened down there. We told them it was a cave-in. Pirogue got a book offer. I guess it was his college education. Everywhere we went we were hailed as the heroes who had survived one of the greatest mining disasters in US history and Month’s Bay Mining paid me and Pirogue one-hundred thousand dollars each. In nineteen seventy-seven, one-hundred thousand dollars,” he continued.
“They said it was for ‘exemplifying the spirit of the mining industry’. We knew it meant shut up and don’t litigate. Neither of us were of a mind to sue but neither of us was a fool either. We took the money. Pirogue moved to California where he got ‘the Call’ and opened a church. The note my father gave me was an acceptance letter to Louisiana State University. He had made the arrangements and paid for most of my tuition on the sly,” he said. “It turned out that Geoffries’ brother-in-law was the dean at the time.”