Mudcat

by John Quick

  “Just have him stop so you can get your own beer,” Rob said. “As long as neither of you drive drunk, I don’t see what the problem is.”

  “No money,” Mitch explained. “I was out sick a couple days, so my check was short as shit, and I had to pay my rent.”

  “I guess you better suck it up, then,” Leanne told him. “Either grow a pair and tell him no, or get ready to get wet and catch some fish.”

  “Big fucking help you are,” Mitch said before disappearing back into the kitchen again. Leanne was positive he was going to the bathroom to mope some more.

  She looked back to see Rob shaking his head and smiling.

  “You see the craziness I have to deal with?” she asked.

  “I do indeed,” he agreed. “What time you think you’ll escape it tonight?”

  She felt her heart flutter in her chest and hoped she wasn’t starting to blush. It had been an innocent enough question, but considering what she’d been hoping for, it was a heavily loaded one as well. “If Rachel shows up, maybe about six. If not, I’ll be here till at least ten.”

  “If I can get away in time, maybe I’ll stop back by,” he said. “Grab some grub, at least give you guys one customer today.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, trying to hide her excitement. “We might just end up being the place to go tonight. Might be tough, but I’ll try to save you a seat.”

  He smiled. “I appreciate that. Try not to get too bored, okay?”

  “No promises,” she replied.

  As she watched him leave, she decided that even if they didn’t get another customer all day, it might actually be worth it if Rachel called out tonight. In fact, she sort of hoped she did.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  While Chase hated his job even on a good day, when it was raining the way it was now, it was a thousand times worse. Maybe it would be different if he was holed up in an office somewhere, nice and dry and comfortable, but since he had to drive around in a damned work truck with busted AC, it just plain sucked. He supposed he should feel grateful. At least he had a job, and one that paid relatively well. Public Works wasn’t the most glamorous thing to be doing, but in a small town like Ashford Fork, the worst he had to contend with was the occasional pothole or dead animal on the road. He could be in one of the bigger cities where his entire job would be spent outside in the rain instead of with the marginal protection of the truck.

  He maneuvered it slowly down the old abandoned service road, mindful of the ruts that had already filled with water, not wanting to bottom out in one of the deeper ones and end up stuck out here in the middle of nowhere. The storm was playing hell with his cell service, and the two-way radio had been on the blink for the last three months, waiting on space in the budget for repairs or replacement. He hoped no one had dumped anything in the woods this time. While he could just take note and leave it, come back once the storm was over, his own sense of duty wouldn’t let him. He might be lazy, but he had been raised to work for his paycheck, so that was what he had to do. He just didn’t want to get soaked today, although he was sure it was only a matter of time.

  When he saw the tail end of a car appear through the deluge ahead of him, he frowned and slowed the truck to a near-crawl. The car was newer, one of those revamped Chargers or Challengers or some other thing that Dodge had revived from the seventies, and seemed vaguely familiar. He didn’t see any exhaust puffing out, so he doubted the car was running, which meant whoever had parked it out here had a specific reason in mind. It could be someone out here fishing—though whoever would bring a nice vehicle like that out onto a road as treacherous as this one had to be an idiot—or maybe, in a more exciting thought, someone had stolen it and dumped it out here to come collect once the heat died down.

  Either way, it had no business being here, especially not on a day like this. He was going to need to do a little further checking, which meant his hopes of staying dry were empty and hollow.

  He parked behind the car and left his engine running, hoping this wouldn’t take too long. He unfastened his seat belt, tugged on the poncho he’d thought to toss onto the passenger seat, and got out, taking care not to lock the door behind him on accident.

  As he got a little closer, he realized that he’d seen this car before. If memory served, it belonged to Brandon Snyder. He’d hung out with Brandon and his roommate Jake on occasion, and the two could always be counted on to have some great pot they had no issues with sharing. Why he was way out here in the boonies, Chase had no idea, but it was definitely his car. He could see the sticker of a skeleton’s hand throwing metal horns in the back windshield.

  He smiled, wondering if he was about to interrupt Brandon in the midst of banging the shit out of some girl, probably that Fordham chick he’d been hanging around with for the last month or two. If so, he was going to take his time before he made his presence known. It was wrong of him to think that way, creepy even, but she was one tight little piece of ass, and he intended to file whatever glimpse of her he could get away for future use once he was home later tonight, alone with a six-pack, a bottle of lotion, and a box of Kleenex.

  The smile faded as he made his way around the driver’s side of the car and discovered that it was empty. He could see a couple of discarded beer cans in the back floorboard, and what looked like a purse sitting on the passenger seat, but there was no one in the car. He put his hands around his face and leaned against the window, looking closer, and saw the little electronic fob dangling from the steering column. The keys were still in there, too. Wherever Brandon had gone, he must have been planning on coming back fairly quickly.

  Chase stood back up straight and looked around, wondering where on earth the man could’ve gone in such a downpour. Even if he’d stopped because he had to take a piss, this was hardly the weather to do so outside. He’d have been better off holding it and racing back to town as quick as he could go, in the hopes of making it back to either the convenience store or the diner before the urge became too overpowering to resist.

  He glanced down the wide path that led to the lake and frowned. Something was lying there in the mud, crumpled into a little ball. He looked a little further and saw more pieces of rumpled and sodden cloth in a trail down to the water. He sighed and stepped off the gravel road, wincing as his foot sank into the mud with a thick squelching sound. The rain had only been falling for a few hours now, but already this area was turning into a quagmire. If he took too much time out here, walking back up to his truck would be like wading through quicksand.

  Once he reached the first object, he adjusted his balance to compensate for the softer ground, then leaned over and picked it up. He spread it open and looked at it with some confusion. It was a t-shirt, some obscure band he’d never heard of emblazoned across the front of it. He tossed the shirt across his shoulder and made his way down to the next one, and saw with no real surprise that it was also a shirt, only this one was of a decidedly more feminine cut. A discarded bra lay nearby.

  “Lucky bastard,” Chase muttered as he glanced down toward the lake. Lightning flashed overhead, casting a bit more light across the area, and allowing him to see that there was something else down there at the water’s edge, something that was bobbing slightly with the waves as they splashed across the shore.

  Something that looked like a person.

  He dropped the clothing he’d been gathering and hurried down to the water, his heart hammering in his chest, terrified that he was going to find something he didn’t want to see. As he closed the distance, he was able to see that yes, it was indeed a person lying there, face down on the shoreline. They were naked, and judging from the dirty and matted hair and the gentle slope of their buttocks, it was no leap to think that whoever it was, they were female.

  Chase knelt next to the unmoving figure, unmindful of the mud that immediately soaked through the knee of his jeans, grabbed the person by the arms, and pulled them further onto the shore. Yes, it was definitely a woman—young, without doubt—an
d he was nearly a hundred percent sure they were dead. Trembling so badly that his knee made juicy squishing noises as it jittered in the mud, he turned the body over, hoping to get some idea of who it was before he called the cops.

  He screamed as the girl’s face was revealed; rather, he screamed when the girl’s lack of a face was revealed. Raw, glistening muscle was all that remained, one impossibly wide, impossibly blue eye staring sightlessly up at the rainclouds above, the other socket dark and empty. Jagged flaps of skin hung loosely across what had once been smooth cheeks, small trails of blood moistened by the rain starting to run down onto her slender neck. One of her breasts was gone as well, ragged chunks drooping without the fatty tissue to support it, and her stomach had been torn open. He was able to see just enough to realize it looked as though she’d been hollowed out, and then he was shoving himself away, sprawling backward and sliding along the shore, ignoring the feel of the wet mud that slid down his pants and into the crack of his ass in his mad desire to get the royal fuck away from whatever he was seeing.

  His stomach clenched and leaped, and he barely got turned over onto his hands and knees before his breakfast came up with a loud, “glorp”. He vomited until all he could manage were dry heaves, and then fought the urge to collapse onto his side to catch his breath. He didn’t want to waste any more time down here, just wanted to get back to his truck as quick as he could and get back to town so he could have the cops come deal with this nightmare.

  A massive splash made him stop, his arms quivering as he strained his ears to try and figure out what it could’ve been. It wasn’t a fish jumping, though it sounded similar to that in a way; whatever had hit the water was much too big to be a fish, at least any kind of fish that would be in that lake. After a moment passed without the sound repeating itself, he began to relax slightly. There were trees hanging out over the water, and with the way that storm was raging, it was very possible that a branch had simply broken loose. It happened, he’d even cleaned a couple of them up from time to time when they drifted close enough to one of the twin rivers that intersected into the lake and gave the town its name.

  As his mind began to slow, he realized how foolish he was being. A girl had been killed; tragic and gruesome, to be sure, but it was nothing more complicated than that. Since Brandon’s car was up there on the service road, there was a good chance he was either dead or in danger as well. Chase had been the one unlucky enough to find this mess, so it fell to him to be the responsible one and get it called in with as little fuss and muss as he could manage.

  And yes, the sight of the girl’s dead and mutilated body was horrible, possibly the most terrifying thing he had ever seen, but he didn’t have to look at it anymore. He could just keep his back to the lake, get to his truck, and hope that his phone had enough service to make the call. Then he would back up down the road a ways until the little clearing was out of sight, and wait for the cops to show up and take over. He might even be able to spin the story of his morbid discovery into a couple of free beers down at the bar later tonight.

  Filled with false courage, he forced himself back to his feet and let out a long, shaking breath. Just as he started to take a step toward the road, he heard another splash behind him, followed by a heavy thud. He stood up a little straighter, fear and adrenaline starting to race through him once more. That hadn’t been any tree limb hitting the water. It had sounded… meatier.

  A slow, steady squishing sound filled his ears over the pattering of falling rain. It started down by the lake, but it was definitely coming closer. He knew he should turn around, see what the hell was going on, what might be coming after him, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. His mind refused to allow him to do it. Only the realization that he might fall prey to whatever had killed that girl made him act, the knowledge that if he did nothing, he would be dead for sure.

  Something was crawling toward him, but what he was seeing couldn’t be possible.

  It was a fish, but it was unlike any fish he’d ever seen in his life. It was much too big, for one thing, damn near the size of a full-grown man. The tail and fins looked massive as it propelled itself through the mud, the wide barbs on either side of its thick lips acting almost like hands and arms, digging into the mud and pulling itself along. Chase had grown up in the south, he knew a catfish when he saw one, but this was something out of a bad fucking dream. He must have dozed off in the truck or something. This could not possibly be happening.

  When the thing raised its head and locked its wide-set eyes on him, he knew that he couldn’t delude himself. This was happening, even though there was no way it could be. His bladder let go, sending warmth cascading down his legs as he tried to will himself to move, to run, to get the fuck away from here, but he stood rooted to the spot, frozen with terror.

  “Chaaaaaaase,” the thing groaned, and dear sweet God in Heaven it sounded like Brandon’s voice coming from that thing’s mouth.

  The thing began to rock back and forth from front to back, arching its midsection and contorting itself as it built momentum. Chase had just enough time to wonder what it was doing before it shoved down with its tail and pushed, propelling itself off the ground directly at him. He screamed again and threw up his hands, but the beast had the advantage, slamming into his chest and knocking him to the ground hard enough to drive the air from his lungs. The thing’s head darted for his face, and he had time to let loose one final screech before its mouth closed on his lips and yanked, tearing them free along with a substantial portion of his right cheek.

  He saw the thing twitch slightly as it swallowed, and then it came at him again, ready to feed in earnest.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  As he expected, Jake was drenched to the skin by the time he finally dashed inside the Kwik-Mart and paused in the entranceway to allow himself to drip as much as possible on the floor mat before continuing on to the deeper interior of the place and its slick tile. What he hadn’t expected was to look up and see Carrie standing at the counter, giving him a strange look of curiosity as she waited for the clerk to finish tendering her purchase and give her back her change. He swore to himself and very nearly turned right back around to leave, but he hadn’t come all this way just to leave empty-handed. And hadn’t he just been considering trying to patch things up with her in order to give it another go? That wasn’t exactly something he could do if he constantly tried to avoid her.

  He adopted what he hoped was a friendly and welcoming expression and held up one hand in greeting. She shook her head, sighed, collected her change, and then stepped over to him. She didn’t get as close as she might have while they were dating, or even in the heady days of flirtation that preceded that, but it also wasn’t far enough away to be considered stand-offish. He supposed it was the best he could hope for under the circumstances.

  “What the hell happened to you?” she asked, not even bothering with niceties as a preamble. “You’re look like you jumped into the lake with all your clothes on.”

  “Had to walk here,” he said, raising one shoulder in a half-shrug, as if it was no big deal. “Still haven’t had the chance to get my tires fixed.”

  Her face went scarlet and he immediately regretting saying it. He wasn’t trying to start an argument about it, or even make her feel bad for it, but that seemed to be exactly what he’d paved the way for. Still, she didn’t just walk past him, or drop her gaze from his, and there didn’t seem to be any malice in her expression, so maybe he’d survive the misstep unscathed.

  “What happened to your asshole roommate?” she asked. “Couldn’t he drive you?”

  “No idea,” he replied, thinking his words through before letting them escape his lips. “I haven’t seen Brandon all day. He was supposed to come back with smokes for me last night, but he still hadn’t showed by the time I went to bed.”

  “By the time you passed out, you mean.”

  It was his turn to feel heat rushing to his cheeks. “Yeah, something like that.”

  She
glanced past him to better see the rain outside. If anything, it had grown even harder in the last few minutes. “You walked two and a half miles in that? What the hell for? Cigarettes? You do realize they’ll be ruined before you even make it out of the parking lot, right?”

  Jake let out a long sigh and dropped his gaze. No, he hadn’t thought of that, but now that she’d mentioned it, he knew he should have. His pants were soaked, his jacket was soaked, and holding them in his hand would be no protection at all. He might as well have brought a bucket full of water to drop them in after he forked over his seven bucks. Assuming, of course, that he could even get the bills out of his pocket in the first place, since they were more than likely soaked as well.

  Carrie must have seen the reaction on his face, because she sighed and shook her head again. “Marlboro Lights, right?”

  He nodded, and saw her start back for the counter again before pausing and glancing at him over her shoulder. “Go on and grab the beer, too. I know you were after it as well, even though you didn’t say so.”

  He didn’t say anything, was too embarrassed to even try to speak, simply wandered to the back of the store and grabbed a six pack of Budweiser from the row of coolers and carried it over to the counter. Jimmy Raymond, the old bastard that owned the little shop, smirked at him before adding the cost into the register and pointedly looking to Carrie instead as he announced the total. It was obvious from the look on the man’s face what his opinion of Jake was, having to rely on his ex-girlfriend to provide for his vices. Normally, Jake would’ve made something of it, and ended up being asked to leave once the screaming match with the shopkeeper got loud enough, but considering the way he’d already been reviewing his shit life this morning, he just let it go. It was hard to argue against something you actually believed yourself.