New Orleans Run

Chapter Nine

Blade rotated on his heels and stared at the bayou. He expected to see a water snake, perhaps even a cottonmouth, swimming near the bank.

Instead, to his utter consternation, he beheld a literal monster of incredible dimensions, a reptile that dwarfed every animal he had ever seen, a creature that rivaled the dinosaurs.

A gargantuan black snake.

The serpent was over 50 yards from the shore, yet even at that distance its tremendous, sinuous bulk eclipsed everything around it, even trees. Ten feet in height and 40 feet in length, the snake appeared to be a throwback to the ancient era when gigantic animals ruled the earth. Its elongated head swung from side to side as it wound across the swamp, and its slender red tongue flicked outward repeatedly, testing the air.

“Tell me I’m dreaming!” Ferret breathed in amazement.

“What if it spots us, yes?” Gremlin declared.

“Take cover,” Blade directed, and swiveled to reach for their prisoner.

Henri Pétion was already in motion. The sight of the snake had produced a remarkable transformation in his visage. Sheer joy lit his eyes and he beamed happily. He shoved off the ground as the giant turned toward him, brushing past his captors in a bound and darting down to the edge of the water.

“What the—” Blade began, rising.

“I’ll get him,” Ferret offered, and took a step forward.

Suddenly Pétion lifted his arms to the heavens and shouted across the water. “Damballah! Mighty Damballah! Your humble servant is here to do your bidding!”

“What the hell is that idiot doing?” Ferret snapped.

“Gremlin doesn’t like this, no,” the humanoid offered.

Blade saw the huge snake start to stop. “Hit the dirt,” he directed, and suited action to his command by turning and diving into the undergrowth. He heard the brush rustle on either side as the hybrids obeyed, then he crawled to the north and covered a minimum of 20 yards before he halted and rose to his knees.

Pétion had stepped a few feet into the water and was now standing motionless, his arms still raised. “Great Damballah! Hear the prayer of your loyal follower!”

The Warrior looked at the serpent and felt his pulse quicken.

Advancing at a slow, winding clip, the snake was approaching the bank, its gaze fixed on the tonton macoute.

What was the fool doing? Blade marveled, and eased lower, slightly parting the weeds in front of him so he could witness whatever happened next. Fleeing was out of the question. The serpent would undoubtedly spot them and overtake them within seconds. The smartest recourse was to stay where they were, well hidden, until the snake departed.

“You have blessed me with a visitation, oh wondrous Damballah!”

Pétion cried ecstatically.

The, man must be insane! Blade reasoned. He slid the Bowie into its sheath and tucked the Thompson against his right side, his finger on the trigger, ready to cut loose. A glance to his right revealed Ferret a yard away; a glance to his left showed Gremlin crouching behind a bushy clump of matted vegetation.

“Magnificent Snake God!” Pétion raved on. “You came in response to my prayer! You came, yet I did not use the Sacred Drum!”

Blade watched in fascination as the reptile neared the man is black. He was astounded by Pétions behavior. The man acted as if he knew the snake!

“Now you will destroy the enemies of our Society,” Pétion shouted.

“Now you will show them our power!”

The serpent never deviated from its course. When only 15 yards separated it from the voodoo practitioner, the snake stopped and elevated its head an additional four feet above the ground, that scarlet tongue flicking-flicking-flicking.

Pétion waded out until the water reached his knees. He spread his arms out and stared up at the immense creature. “Go find our enemies, oh, mighty Damballah! Seek them out and devour them as you have done so many times in the past! Show them your followers do not worship you in vain.”

Blade stayed as rigid as a rock, hardly breathing, dumbfounded by the riveting tableau.

“Wait until the Baron hears of this!” Pétion declared. “Wait until he hears how you have favored me. I will move up quickly now. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised to be appointed boko. And all thanks to you!”

The living nightmare slid slowly toward the man in black, its dark, obsidian eyes reflecting its soulless nature.

Henri Pétion performed a sweeping, obsequious bow. “Lord Damballah, I am yours to command! Do with me as you will.” He straightened, his arms at his sides.

The Snake God acknowledged the request.

Suddenly sweeping forward, the black serpent’s enormous head darted at the expectant human, its maw opening wide enough to accommodate a horse. Exhibiting lightning rapidity, striking before Pétion could utter a single sound, the snake snapped its mouth shut over its prey, then reared back.

Blade felt revulsion at the ghastly sight. He could see Pétion’s ankles and feet jutting from between the reptile’s lips, the black shoes kicking and twisting, and then the snake tilted its head upward, gulped, and swallowed. Pétion’s feet disappeared.

A bulge formed in the serpent’s throat just behind the jaw. For over a minute the snake didn’t move except for the rippling of its scaly skin as the bulge flowed down its throat. Pressure from within distended its neck as Pétion went into his death throes, thrashing and tossing wildly.

Blade almost stood and fired. He wanted to kill the serpent, but the realization that their weapons might not be adequate for the job deterred him. If he was going to take the reptile on, he would prefer to do it when he had an edge, some way of evening the odds.

At last the snake turned and headed to the southeast, its head held low to the water, moving swiftly.

The Warrior waited until the reptile was out of sight before standing.

“Just when you think you’ve seen everything,” he muttered.

“That thing scared Gremlin, yes?” the humanoid said, rising. He removed the sunglasses and tossed them aside. Ferret stood and took several strides toward the bayou, his countenance registering severe agitation. “Did you see that sucker?” he asked absently. “Who could miss it?” Blade quipped. “What the hell are we doing here?” Ferret queried, gesturing at the water. “I mean, what the hell are we doing here?”

“You know the reason we came to New Orleans,” Blade said. “To find the party responsible for the distress call and to help the people here in their fight against the Black Snake Society.” His eyes enlarged in amazement as the obvious finally dawned on him. The Black Snake Society!

“No, you came to help some poor saps fight for their freedom,” Ferret corrected him angrily. “Gremlin and I came because we’re morons!

Because we let Lynx sucker us in again!”

“It’s no use crying over spilt milk, no?” Gremlin commented.

“I’m not worried about spilling milk, damn it,” Ferret snapped. “I’m worried about spilling our blood. Didn’t you see the size of that thing?”

“Of course, yes.”

“And didn’t it occur to you that we don’t stand a prayer against a mutation as big as a mountain?”

“We’ll find a way to destroy it, yes,” Gremlin asserted optimistically.

“Yeah. Sure. Right. All we have to do is round up a mongoose forty feet long and we’re in business.”

Gremlin glanced at Blade. “Excuse him, yes? A few little problems and he tends to fall to pieces.”

“Little!” Ferret bellowed. “If that snake gets any bigger, it’ll start snacking on elephants.”

“That’s impossible, no?” Gremlin responded, and snickered. “There are no elephants in this region, yes?”

“You know what I mean,” Ferret stated.

Blade hefted the Thompson and turned. “Enough chitchat. We’ve got to find Lynx.” He bore to the northeast.

“Lynx,” Ferret hissed. “This is all his fault. We’ve got weirdos who go around talking to giant snakes trying to blow us away, and the giant snakes they talk to ready to eat us if we show our faces.” He paused. “I swear. If Lynx ever suggests we go on another mission, and I don’t care if it’s just to step outside the Home to gather blackberries, I’m going to belt him in the mouth.”

“That’s a good point,” Blade said.

“What is?” Ferret asked in surprise.

“Is there just that one snake or dozens roaming these swamps?” Blade wondered.

“Dozens?” Ferret repeated, and glanced around nervously. “Nah. There couldn’t be. Could there?”

“Maybe the Black Snake Society made the snake with magic, yes?”

Gremlin theorized.

“Don’t be crazy,” Ferret said. “That voodoo stuff is a bunch of crap.”

“You never know, no?”

“I know if you keep talking like this, I’m going to belt you in the mouth.”

Gremlin glanced at his friend in dismay. “Ferret wouldn’t hurt Gremlin, yes?”

“No. Of course not. It was just a figure of speech, “Ferret replied uncomfortably. “I’d never hurt you.”

“Good.”

“But I could kill Lynx.”

Blade smiled and stepped over a log. He planned to return to the vicinity of the cabin. If Lynx had been captured, then the cat-man should be in that area. If not, taking another of the tonton macoutes prisoner might enable them to learn critical information essential to the success of the operation. For starters, he’d like to know the identity of the leader of the Black Snake Society. Locating the voodoo sect’s base of operations was equally important.

The minutes dragged by as the trio hiked onward. Overhead the afternoon sun arced steadily toward the west horizon.

“You know, I don’t like the idea of being out here after dark,” Ferret remarked. “I hope we find a safe place to stay for the night.”

“We can always climb a tree, no?” Gremlin said.

“No,” Ferret replied. “For all we know there could be humongous caterpillars crawling around up there.”

The humanoid chuckled. “Ferret has a great sense of humor, yes?”

“I wish.”

Blade abruptly halted and motioned for silence. He crouched, then moved ahead until he reached a cypress tree. Exercising supreme care, he peered around the trunk and spied the cabin approximately one hundred yards away.

Over two dozen members of me Black Snake Society were gathered around the structure.

Blade saw a powerfully built man in black addressing the other tonton macoutes. Was that the man Pétion had referred to, the man he’d called the Baron? Was the Baron even the head of the sect? He sensed rather than heard, the hybrids join him.

“What’s going on?” Ferret whispered.

“It looks like they’ve called off the hunt for us,” Blade said softly. “But why? One of their own is missing, no?” Gremlin mentioned.

Blade had no answer to that one. He watched as the magicians, as Pétion had called them, formed into a single file and marched to the east.

“They’re leaving,” Ferret exclaimed. “See? Even they don’t want to be out here after dark.”

“They could have a camp near here, yes?” Gremlin noted.

“Don’t you get tired of looking at the bright side all the time?” Ferret asked.

“Shut your faces,” Blade directed. He straightened, keeping his body flush with the trees, and thoughtfully observed the departure of the tonton macoutes. The notion of sending one of the hybrids to follow the men in black appealed to him, but after losing Lynx, and with night fast approaching, he didn’t want to become separated from the other two.

After the final man in line had vanished in the distance, he stepped into the open. “To the cabin.”

“May I talk, no?” Gremlin inquired.

“Go ahead.”

“Shouldn’t one of us go to New Orleans, yes? You can go and Ferret and Gremlin will wait here for Lynx.”

“The three of us will venture to New Orleans in the morning whether Lynx shows up or not,” Blade informed them. “I thought Warriors never abandon other Warriors.” Ferret said.

“They don’t,” Blade agreed. “But has it ever occurred to you that Lynx might be in their hands and already on his way to the city?”

“But what if he’s not, no?” Gremlin asked, sounding worried. “How will Lynx know where to find us, yes?”

“If he doesn’t show up, we’ll leave him a note. I have paper in my backpack,” Blade said.

The rest of the distance to the cabin was covered in silence. As before, the cabin door stood wide open.

Blade made for the entrance. Perhaps—just perhaps—the tonton macoutes had left a clue behind that would prove helpful. The possibility was remote, but he had to check. He advanced to the doorway, then looked back. “Keep your eyes peeled. Stay alert.”

“I’m always alert when there’s the chance I might be jumped by a man-eating snake or caterpillar,” Ferret cracked.

Blade grinned and lifted his right leg to go inside.

That was when the burly form in black materialized in front of him and jammed a submachine gun barrel into his ribs.