New Orleans one more time

I played a half-decent game of golf today, and actually made it to the green in two shots twice, AND made an awesome 20 foot putt. it was a thing of beauty. I’m actually getting better.

***

Johnny stopped so abruptly that Mike ran into him before he could stop. “What ya stopping for?” he asked in a shrill voice.

“What the fuck are those things?” Johnny asked.

Mike craned over Johnny’s shoulder. “They kinda look like something in the weasel family but they’re kind of small.”

“And weasels don’t travel in packs like ‘at.”

“Pack” was hardly adequate to describe the number of creatures between the men and Johnny’s jeep. The ground appeared to have been carpeted in black and brown fur, constantly moving.

“You think that’s what got Ken?” Mike’s voice had dropped to a whisper but still held a shrill tone not customary to his nature.

“Could be. There’s enough of them to do that.” Johnny’s mind conjured up a sudden image of Ken’s mutilated corpse.

“How we going to get to the car, Johnny?” Mike tugged Johnny’s shirt.

“We’ll never make it,” Johnny replied. “So start backing the fuck up. We’ll get Ken’s truck and use that.” If Ken had left his gun in the truck bed maybe he had left the keys in the ignition. Johnny didn’t feel like fucking around trying to hotwire a truck while hundreds of weasel things were trying to get him, but he would if he had to.

Mike took a slow step backward. Johnny kept his eyes on the weasel-things and followed suit. He felt the weight of their combined gazes as a physical thing. The carpet began to flow toward them.

“Run,” he croaked, his throat suddenly dry. He tried again. “Run, Mike, for Christ’s sake. Run!” He turned, pushed Mike’s shoulder and bolted for Ken’s truck. The sound of hundreds of small bodies rushing through the green growth spurred him to greater effort.

He staggered into the side of the truck, wrenched the passenger door open and threw himself across the seat. Keys dangled from the ignition. He heard Mike scream, and turned to see three or four of the creatures swarming up Mike’s legs. “Get in the truck!” he yelled.

Mike stumbled and almost fell as he reached the open door. He grabbed one of the weasel-things and pulled it from his abdomen. With a shout of horror, he threw it as far as he could. More had reached him and were biting his boots, climbing his legs.

Johnny twisted the key and grinned when the engine roared to life. He reached over and yanked Mike into the cab of the truck, then jerked the transmission into gear and stomped the gas pedal. The truck surged forward.

Mike struggled with the creatures that had been carried into the truck with him. He managed to break one’s back and slammed another’s head on the door often and hard enough that it either died or was rendered unconscious. Johnny hoped it was dead. He couldn’t take time right now to help out and he didn’t need them coming after him. It sucked for Mike, but the weasel-things seemed pretty simple minded.

He sped away from the swarm and out to a less overgrown area. Here he stopped and helped Mike free himself from the final two that had put up quite a battle.

“Holy fuckin shit!” said Mike with feeling.

Johnny looked at him. “You said it.” He studied Mike a little more. “I better get you to a hospital. Them things bit you in a couple places. Could be bad. Hang on.”

He considered the location of the nearest hospital and the fastest route there, then hit the gas again. If cops pulled him over for speeding, he’d get them to take Mike to the hospital. As he drove, he wondered if he’d ever be able to get his own vehicle back. It’d be nice, but he didn’t want to face those bastardly creatures ever again.

Johnny pulled into a spot close to the emergency room entrance. He helped Mike into the hospital and called for help. Mike seemed out of it and not himself. Johnny recognized the signs of shock. He hoped the ER people would just take him in and worry about crap like forms and insurance later.

To his great relief, they hurried Mike off to a treatment room. Johnny sat down to wait for word on Mike’s condition. Sitting and waiting, he thought about their encounter, and Ken’s body, and decided he had best let the police know. He hauled out his cell phone and made the call.

***

Next time, we move on to other folks. And find out a little bit about these critters.