Gator Baitin' (The Grateful Undead series Book 2)

by Susan Stec

  Marcus was grinning. I aggressively thumbed my communications button. "I've seen my share of bass tournaments, little sister. I know the drill." I stomped toward the docks.

  Mom and the rest of the guys are headed over to the other side of the lake. Nothing's happening at Gatorland, Jeni said in a hurried voice.

  Jennifer, you are not supposed to be talking to my team! JoAnn yelled at an ear deafening volume that had each of us shaking our heads.

  I thumbed the microphone button. "Christ! Keep your finger off the damn transmitter when you two start yelling. And Joann!—turn the damn volume down." I rubbed circles on my temples.

  I have it on auto. I can talk whenever I want, and you're supposed to listen to me, Susan. My sister found her snotty voice.

  Behind me I could heard Marcus snicker and whipped around. "Don't start!" I groused, shaking a finger in his face.

  "Has anyone ever been able to knock the chips off the shoulders of the women in your family?" Marcus asked.

  "Yeah, so good luck with that," Christopher said before I could.

  * * * *

  We were mingling with the crowd, eyeing the situation, when I noticed a boat loaded with cameras. Two men stood beside it checking their gear. I gave Marcus dancing eyebrows as I headed for the boat.

  "Hey, are you guys the film crew?" I put on my best smile and worked my low cut blouse as I leaned into the boat feigning interest in the cameras.

  "Yep, we have a big job ahead of us with twenty entrants to keep track of," said the shortest, a smile spreading across his tanned face. His hair was brown and cut shoulder length. He wore a snappy beaded necklace, and a pair of bright blue swimming trunks hung on his hips, giving me a nice view of his tight stomach. My nostrils flared, taking in the Panama Jack suntan lotion coating his half-naked body.

  "I have a small production company. I'd love to get some footage for a documentary I'm working on. I know my way around the lake since I live on it. You guys up for a stowaway?" I asked, grabbing one of the cameras. "Nice Sony. Got one myself. HD right?"

  A second man with bleached out hair, cutoff jeans and no shirt, gently took the camera from me, turning a flirtatious smile my way. "Sorry sweetie, no riders today, but maybe we could hook up later tonight and I could show you some of my…footage."

  Marcus was making angry animal noises again as he stepped up and pulled the guy's attention in his direction. The man's smile faded, replaced by that all too familiar dumb look as Marcus stared at him. I could hear every word he pushed. You're finished for the day. Go take a nice long nap at the Micro Motel on Highway 441. When you wake up your boat will be waiting for you right here, all locked up.

  The man mechanically turned, heading for the parking lot.

  While Christopher scrambled over the bow of the boat, I was working on Panama Jack guy. Go on now. That's it, handsome. Be a good boy. Head back to your motel room and set your mental alarm for five PM. When you get back here tonight for the weigh-in there'll be plenty of footage on your Sony and you'll remember taking each shot.

  Within a matter of minutes they'd left the dock area headed for their hotel.

  I jumped into the boat and stood behind the steering wheel. "You ever motor one of these babies?" I asked, turning the key when the rest of the boats started their engines.

  "Yes, and I believe you should take the seat next to Christopher and buckle up," Marcus said, grabbing the windshield in a death grip as a wake from one of the other motoring boats rocked ours.

  I laughed and hit the throttle. The boat shot across the lake a good twenty yards before it planed out and settled itself on top of the water. We were gliding at a break neck speed, boat almost airborne when Marcus pulled himself into the passenger seat. He didn't say or push a thing and that made me push a mental chuckle at him for a change.

  I thumbed the call button on my chest. "JoAnn, you got a copy on our gator?" I swear I heard an emery-board working in the background.

  Yes, you're about to run over it, she calmly said.

  "Shit!" I pulled the throttle back, bounced Marcus off the windshield and back into the seat beside me with an ass cracking smack. I smiled sheepishly at him.

  "Was that necessary, love? Are we not supposed to be killing the gator?" Marcus asked, adjusting himself in the seat.

  Christopher got up off the floor behind my seat. "We don't want to kill it just yet. We do and our mission is screwed."

  I blatantly pointed at my earplug.

  "She can't hear me. I'm not stupid." Christopher opened his shirt, showing me the transmitter. "It's on a need to know basis."

  Ironically, we were floating in front of our own dock, my house in full view, and I was filming an entrant, the vamp-gator about a hundred yards off to our left. We had been following it, shooting footage of any entrants that happened to be in its path. The gator slowly made its way toward us, scary eyes just above water level.

  The man on the other side of the little island of lake grass smiled for our camera, pole in hand, casting and reeling in the bait from his Triton.

  "You guys are new, aren't ya?" he asked.

  "Just backup. The crew had an emergency and we had to take over," I said, camera on the lure just breaking the surface of the water along the other side of the island of grass.

  "What's with the kid?" he asked pointing the tip of the rod at Christopher.

  "We couldn't find a sitter," I answered, giving Christopher a motherly smile that got a snicker from Marcus.

  "Mommy, can I take off my shorts and go swimming in my skivvies?"

  "No sweetie. The nice man over there is fishing." I shot him a 'don't even start' look.

  "You picked the right man to film. I'm after the big one, and with this new Birdie Lure, from www.scientificfishing.com, it's gonna be an easy endeavor. Film and learn." He smiled at the camera, really working in that advertisement time. He reeled the line in, casting out again, the lure in question landing right in the middle of the reeds.

  His spotter maneuvered the trolling motor from the seat up front, moving their boat along the side of the small island.

  Marcus guided the boat on our side, getting dangerously close to the monofilament lying on the top of the lake grass.

  The spotter frowned in our direction. "Getting a bit close, buddy. Back it off a little."

  "Daddy's got wandering feet and a wimpy Johnson. Mommy said so." Christopher smiled.

  Marcus frowned at Christopher and eased up on the throttle.

  The pole whipped up, cutting the fisherman in mid-laugh. The angler began reeling like mad. I swiveled the camera in the direction of the fish as it jumped out of the water, dorsal fin splashing drops in a fine arc in front of the lens.

  "Oh man, look at that beauty, ahhh…she's a nice one. I knew she was here, been fishing this little honey spot for days. She's gonna weigh in a good eight pounds. Come on baby, come to Daddy. You getting all this, young lady?" the walking billboard asked.

  "Mommy always gets it when Daddy says that very same thing in front of the computer. Mister, how come Daddy can tickle his pee-pee and I can't?"

  "Christopher, sit down and shut up before I tickle that little ass of yours with that paddle over there." Marcus pointed to an oar strapped to the side of the boat.

  I burst out laughing. Both men in the other boat joined me, adding to the excitement of the catch.

  "I got a good shot of the fish and that Birdie Lure logo on your chest too," I said, getting into the moment and ignoring Marcus' un-approving noises.

  "Yeah, well, this Triton is easy to handle, gets nice and close too, with little or no motor noise. And with my Okuma rod, it should be an easy catch," Mr. Advertisement said, getting in the proper plugs for the camera as he pulled the rod back, coaxing the largemouth bass closer, eyes riveted on the grass moving in front of me.

  "Damn. Easy now. Let's get you out of the grass, baby. Boy, this Birdie Lure is something—never snags. Carl, grab the net," he said, turning his hat backwards to show off
yet another advertisement for the lure as I filmed him fighting the fish.

  The bass jumped a good three feet out of the water, so close I could grab it. I yelped, trying to catch it in the camera. Marcus' hand twisted on the throttle of the electric motor hanging over the bow as he leaned over the side to watch, sending our boat right across the fish to the end of the reeds.

  Both anglers freaked out.

  "What the hell! Back off, buddy!" Carl guided the boat away from ours.

  "This fish could make me or break me, you idiot. If I lose it, you're dead meat!" the man with the pole screamed. Marcus grimaced.

  Christopher looked at Marcus, his hand on his little hip. "He's already dead meat. Mommy says so. Can I slap him this time, Mommy? Please?" He ran towards Marcus, tripped over a camera case, and landed on the front deck with a thunk, right on top of the gas pedal and Marcus' foot.

  The boat turned in a half circle tangling the line in the lower foot of the larger engine mounted on the back of our boat. Although that engine was not turned on, it grabbed the line securely.

  "And we all know who you take after, now don't we?" I laughed at Christopher as he tried to get out of Marcus' grasp.

  "Bloody-hell? Jesus, do something Carl. That's what I pay you for. Get in the damn water and untangle that line!" The man's fishing pole was bent at a breakable angle as he tried to reel in the line.

  The bass, and a big one it was, jumped beside our boat, favoring us with another view of its large mouth, Birdie Lure deeply embedded inside. I filmed like mad, getting a great shot of the lure and the fish.

  Marcus cussed, pulled Christopher up, and shoved him toward me.

  Christopher's fangs dropped from his gums and he hissed at Marcus.

  Marcus hissed back, fangs hanging.

  I teetered behind the seat, camera shooting blue sky, before I could right myself. I leaned on the seat, turning the camera on the Triton.

  The angler yanked the pole back, cussing, "Get that goddamn fish, Carl!" Evidently the two men did not see the fang action.

  Carl leapt, feet first, with a long poled net in his hand, arms flailing as he hit the water. His hat was floating behind him when he broke the surface. He awkwardly doggie paddled towards us, dragging the net with him and spitting water. "Dave, I better get a bonus if I net this one, I tell you."

  "Hey, he's swimming! I wanna go swimming!" Christopher pulled off his shorts. He stood on the seat in his tightie-whities, eyes dancing toward our dock. I turned and spotted Mort rolling in the water near the saw grass alongside our boat ramp. The gator, only thirty yards away, was slowly moving toward Carl.

  "Damnit!" I dropped the camera on the seat next to me. "Carl, get back in your boat! There's a gator coming right for you." I sat on the edge of the running board, my feet still planted firmly in the boat, trying to make a decision. God, I hated gators and I damn sure did not want to fight one in ten feet of water.

  Susan, I think you better do something quick. That's the gator with fangs, and he's about to get that human! JoAnn yelled.

  My hands shot up to my head, and I almost fell in the water. Christopher leapt forward, grabbed my chest and pulled me back into the boat.

  With raised eyebrows, I looked down at his hand still clutching my left breast. "Let go of Mommy's tit, sweetie."

  He smiled shyly, opening his hand, still hovering over my chest. I heard alpha noises coming from the bow of the boat. Marcus glared at Christopher as the little fondler stepped back, wiping his hands on his shorts.

  "Help! The goddamned thing is getting closer! Throw me a line, Dave!" Carl started splashing around, frantic eyes searching everywhere.

  "Screw that. You better not get back in this damn boat without that bass!" David yelled.

  I shot him a nasty look and turned back to the gator. It was about twenty feet from Carl.

  Carl moved toward the Triton in frantic gestures. He held the metal net firmly, sporting it like a weapon as the gator smoothly moved closer. Its watchful eyes didn't even blink.

  Christopher tossed him a bright orange life jacket. It hit him in the head. Carl pushed it away cussing.

  "I gotta tell ya, mister," Christopher said, "I don't think that pole is going to save ya. That gator's out for blood. Did you happen to see the movie Alligator? A giant gator goes crazy at a wedding. Yep, you're gonna be dinner."

  Marcus tore off his shirt. I paused for a moment, taking in his very sexy abs, and wanted to run my fingers over his tight stomach. Marcus and I made eye contact, neither of us moved.

  "Jesus, piss or get off the pot." Christopher dove in the lake, his white butt sliding through the water.

  Marcus pulled his gaze off me and I felt torn from the brink of something. I shook my head to clear it then turned to the lake.

  Christopher grabbed Carl by the back of his heavily adorned jacket and started to drag him toward the Triton.

  "Will someone get the goddamned bass?" Dave yelled, kicking out at Carl as Christopher pushed him up to the boat. The gator made a slow turn, heading for the Triton.

  Marcus grabbed the paddle off the sideboard, slapping at the water. The gator only ten feet from Christopher disappeared under the water.

  I watched the ripple of water carrying it in the other direction.

  I walked to the back of the boat, leaned over and grabbed the fishing line hooked on the lower foot of the engine. Hand over hand I pulled it toward the boat.

  Marcus stood gawking at Christopher as I giggled insanely.

  The bass, large mouth and all, came over our running board, Birdie Lure still attached, splashing water everywhere. The fish lay flapping by the transom as I leaned down to grab it by the gill. I was still giggling.

  Hands gripping the wooden ladder on the back of the Triton, Carl went wild, screaming obscenities. Christopher shoved him into the boat and tossed the net in after him. Carl didn't notice Christopher's inhuman strength. "What the hell was that, Dave? You didn't even help me! For Christ's sake, there's a goddamned gator out there!"

  "That kid is stronger than a full-grown man! Who are you people?" Dave asked in awe, ignoring Carl as he lay shaking on the floor of the Triton.

  Wow, you guys are really good! That was a close one! Now go get that gator! It's heading for Mort! JoAnn said.

  Marcus' hand shot to his ear. "Get this boat over to theirs now, Susan!"

  Ignoring him, I pushed my call button. "Working on it. One thing at a time, JoAnn. We've got enlightened company here."

  I cranked the engine and motored alongside of the Triton and watched Marcus as he watched Christopher who was still treading water by the boat, the gator no longer a threat. I lost sight of Mort as he submerged, headed for the weeds by the shoreline.

  Marcus grabbed the side of their boat, locking eyes with Dave. He mentally pushed a few suggestions. Dave sat down, pole still in his hands eyes glazed over.

  I tossed the bass in their boat. "There you go fellas. Hope it wins the tournament for ya."

  Dave blinked, looked at the bass briefly and jerked his head back to Marcus as if he'd been slapped.

  "What's going on? Dave, you okay?" Carl asked.

  Christopher climbed over the side of the boat with an underwear water-bubble sagging to his knees as the gator shot off into deeper water, Mort on its tail. Christopher did a two handed squeegee on his tightie-whities then walked up to Carl and cupped the man's face with wet hands. The man went slack. I was sure Christopher was planting a whole new scenario of today's catch.

  ~~~

  Chapter 12

  Jake the shifter-dragon lived near our lake

  Frolicked on the mucky sand

  In a place called Gatorland

  ~~~

  "What did I tell you about leaving loose ends?" Mom shouted, walking in the front door, her clothes covered in soot.

  "There aren't any." Jake, half naked with a towel wrapped around his waist, followed her in.

  "Well you sure screwed the pooch somewhere!" Mom answered.
>
  "Who screwed what pooch and where are Jake's clothes?" I asked.

  "Oooh, I wouldn't trouble yourself with Jake's clothes. I'd be more concerned with the man he set on fire." Mom strutted into the kitchen, throwing herself on the counter, arms splayed in front of her. "Christ!" she moaned.

  I threw my hands up in the air, muttering a few Italian words most people would have no trouble understanding. I turned to Jake, my eyes bulging, visions of flame-broiled human on the bone floating around in my head.

  "In the middle of butt bonk Egypt your mother decided to wade through the swamps, chasing a gator. It's not my fault I got into the moment." Jake's hands jerked to his mouth and his knees hit his chest as he ran for the fireplace. Grabbing the screen, he pulled it forward, and fire burst from his mouth, igniting the kindling stacked neatly under a fresh pile of wood. It crackled, cranking up a nice cozy fire.

  I slapped the counter by my mother's head, jerking her to attention. "Who did he burn, and where's the body for God's sake?"

  Gibbie burst into laughter. "You should have seen your mother trying to douse the curator."

  Before I could get out one of the fifty questions waving red flags behind my eyeballs, Paul walked through the front door dragging a large garbage bag. "You guys got anything to burn? I'm headed out to the barn."

  I sucked in a shaky breath, eyes on the bag in Paul's hands. "That's not Mr. Parsons, is it?" I was digging divots in the counter with one hand, the other one extended toward the garbage bag.

  Marcus stood by the picnic table. "Wolf, is there a charred human body in that bag?"

  "Sorry to disappoint you, Marcus, I have several severed bodies in this bag," Paul answered with a smile. "Twelve to be exact. Do you have any conquests to add?"

  Christopher and I both shouted, "No!"

  Marcus started to vibrate. The shit was holding back a laugh.

  I blatantly ignored him, giving Paul a look that had him heading for the front door. I turned my attention to Mom as she peeled herself off the counter. "What the hell happened? And could you start at the beginning, please?"