Viper Game

Someone shouted – the dog handler, he was certain. The guard fired his gun in short bursts. The dog yelped. In the distance, through the tree branches, Wyatt caught a glimpse of something moving fast – too fast for anything human. It was small, no more than a foot or so tall. It ran, zigzagging as the guard fired at it.

Movement drew Wyatt’s gaze back to the guard as something hit the dog handler hard in the back, knocking him forward and down. For a moment, Wyatt thought he might actually be catching his first glimpse of the Rougarou – shapeshifter of the bayous and swamps – but this was no tall creature with a wolf’s head. It was small in comparison to the guard, but not tiny like the first creature. He was fairly certain whoever had struck the guard was human.

He moved carefully, knowing he would draw fire from the other guards if they spotted him in the trees. By the time he was able to see again, whoever it was had smashed the guard’s gun into pieces against the trunk of a tree. The dog hurled itself on the smaller figure, driving it to the ground. Animal and human rolled for a moment and then, to his astonishment, the dog went flying backward with such force that when it landed, the blow was strong enough to knock the wind from the animal.

Whatever it was that had attacked the guard ran in the direction of the much smaller creature, just as fast, with blurring speed, leaping over fallen logs and yet never once running into an obstacle in spite of the speed.

The other two guards laid down fire, spraying the swamp with bullets, but none appeared to strike their target. The two small creatures, one no more than a foot and a half tall and the other maybe hitting five feet or an inch or two above, ran through the dense vegetation without hesitation or a hitch in their strides.

None of the guards gave chase, and that was significant as well. The guards, as armed and as well trained as they were, didn’t want to follow the two figures into the swamp at night. They were afraid.

One of the guards reached down to help the dog handler from the ground. He immediately rushed over to kneel by the dog.

“Is he alive, Larry?”

“Yeah.” The dog handler sounded grim. “She didn’t kill him, but his rib might be cracked. We were lucky.”

“You shouldn’t have let him loose, Larry.”

“Go to hell, Blake, he slipped his leash.” The dog handler gathered the animal into his arms and lifted him gently.

Wyatt liked him better for that. Still, the man was due a good beating, and he wasn’t getting out of that.

“Gentlemen, put down your guns,” he advised softly. “I’m only goin’ to tell you once. If you don’ comply, I’ll shoot you in the leg. If you still don’ comply, it will be the other leg. We’ll just keep goin’ until you run out of blood or I run out of bullets.”

“Don’t you worry, my friend,” Malichai said, his voice coming out of the night low and purring. “I’ve got enough ammo to keep on shooting long after you’re out.”

“And then I’ll start,” Ezekiel added.

Surrounded, the guards put their weapons on the ground, stepped back away from them and linked their fingers behind their heads.

“You’re making a mistake,” the one named Blake said.

“No, I think you’re the ones who made the mistake.” Wyatt leapt from the tree, landing in a crouch on the balls of his feet, right beside Blake’s gun. He tossed it up into the tree where Ezekiel was concealed and then threw the second one to him as well.

“Put the dog down. I don’ want to hurt an animal, so if he’s protective of you, leash him and hand the leash to one of your friends. They can just make themselves comfortable while you and I settle our score.” Wyatt pinned the other two with a serious gaze. “Don’ make the mistake of thinkin’ you can go for your holdout guns or your other weapons. I know you have ’em and I just plain don’ give a damn. That’s how angry you’ve made me. So know my two friends will shoot you down the moment you make one wrong move.”

Larry set the dog near the third guard, clearly not trusting Blake. He snapped the leash back on him and handed the end to his friend. “Don’t let him loose, Jim,” he cautioned, and then turned slowly. “Who the hell are you and why do you have such a hard-on for me?”

“You know that sweet old lady you thought you’d shove into the swamp? The one you threatened? The one you told you’d come by her home and take care of her?” Deliberately, and making a show of it, Wyatt placed his gun a distance from them and walked within feet of Larry. “That’s my grand-mere, and I don’ take to anyone threatenin’ her or puttin’ hands on her.”

“It wasn’t personal,” Larry said with a small shrug. “I was doing my job. We don’t want anyone coming around, not only for our protection but theirs as well.”

“It’s very personal to me,” Wyatt said. “So let’s get to this.”

“You swamp rats are all alike. We go to that shack you call a club and everyone wants to fight us to prove what men you are,” Larry accused, shaking his head.