I shook Steve by his shoulders trying to wake him up as Jeremy chopped at the vines with the hatchet.

  “Wake up, dude! Steve! You in there, buddy?” I said.

  He finally stirred looking at me with an unfocused gaze like he had polished off a bottle of Tennessee’s finest whiskey the night before. His head bobbed around like a newborn’s. Then he threw up. Projectile vomit all over me. Jeremy fell out of the way to avoid the putrescence, backing away like a weird crawfish.

  “Aww, man!” I exclaimed. I flung some of the chunks off my hands. “This was not in the brochure. What did you eat?”

  “Uhhhh…sorry…wha…where…” Steve said, as I flung more disgusting stuff off my arms and took my shirt off. “Oooohh…mannnn…I feel like I got hit by a truck. Worst headache ever!”

  He struggled against his binds, “Why am I tied up? What? Who? Bart? Jeremy? Did you guys tie me up?”

  “No,” Jeremy told him. “We were actually here to rescue you before you hurled on us! I guess that’s the thanks we get. Now, I’m thinking about leaving you out here.”

  “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop it.” Steve was starting to sound more like himself. “What’s going on?”

  “Do you remember anything? Before you passed out?” I asked as I was wiping my face off with what I hoped was hyacinth. I’d rather smell like swamp muck than whatever came out of Steve.

  “Um…yeah,” he said groggily, looking around. “Last thing I remember was looking for your dad. We heard gunshots, found some crashed boats, den started working our way on land to find survivors. Next thing I know, I get hit with what felt like a bomb blast. Now I’m heeah.”

  He started to blink hard like he was trying to get something out of his eyes. He shook his head and stretched his eyes open as far as he could then closed them as tight as he could like he was stretching his eye lids. He looked all around as if he was searching for Waldo.

  “What are you looking for?” I asked him.

  “Nothing,” he sounded unsure. “It’s just, I see these words–”

  “You see words?!” I walked over to him. “Like a warning?”

  “Now that you mention it, I see that it says, ‘Warning three times.’”

  “Same thing happened to me. It means you’ve awakened or something like that. Mentally acknowledge the warning. You’ll have to pick a lineage.”

  “No fair!” Jeremy squawked.

  “Dude, watch our backs, this is gonna take a minute,” I ordered him. He shouldered his A.R. and pouted like a pre-teen mumbling as he started patrolling the area. “Shoot any animal…ANY! Got it!”

  “Okaaaayyy…” He dragged the word out like a moan.

  “This is weird. Kinda funny though.” Steve said with a smile.

  “You should have a couple to choose from.”

  “Yeah. I got three. A river—"

  “Only three?!” I interrupted.

  Jeremy frantically chopped at the vines but they were all tangled as bad as a backlash on a baitcasting reel.

  “Yeah. Rude.” He gave me an admonishing look, but I knew he was just kidding. “A river pirate, a swamp rat, and the Cajun navy?”

  “Weird! I had five choices. I wonder why only three. Well, which one do you like?”

  “River Pirate,” he said. Then, “Yes.”

  The whole area seemed to turn into an energy vacuum. Jeremy and I stood firm in the swirl, the currents sliding harmlessly off our skin as if we were stones in a river. Steve’s body jerked upward, the pull trying to drag him against his restraints. The vines snapped as a surge flared from his chest, then he fell forward to his hands and knees.

  “I feel fantastic!” he said with a huge grin.

  “Y’all suck! I hate y’all!” Jeremy pouted as he kicked at a stick.His tantrum cracked me up.

  “Arrrggh, Matey! Let’s be findin’ our people!” Green said in a great pirate impersonation.

  “Pretty good pirate voice. We gotta get going. Five more folks to save, and God knows how many baddies to kill.” I handed him my A.K. since I couldn’t shoot with it as accurately with only one hand. “You think you can use this?”

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  “I got a boost in luck, bra. Even if I don’t aim, I’m prolly gonna get lucky and hit sometin’! Accuracy through volume!”

  I grabbed him by the shoulders, and, as seriously as I could, I said, “Look. I know you're excited right now, and we had a little laugh, but this is serious. People are dead and five more are missing. I’m taking point, Jeremy will take second, and I want you to guard the rear flank. We have to be quiet, even though the whole Atchafalaya basin knows where we are now. You got it?!”

  He saluted. What an ass.

  Several spikes thunked into the tree next to me in a surprise attack. More soundless fire came in rapid succession. Two more impaled my chest and left arm, and one hit Jeremy’s left leg. Another barrage came our way as I fell to the ground, “Get Down!”

  They both had already hit the deck. Jeremy was rolling around grabbing his leg. I pulled my quills with a wince as Steve took his first shot. Starla went over to help Jeremy, but he wouldn’t stop being a big baby.

  “One down!” he said after only two rounds. “I see three mo’ AR pines up on dat ridge.”

  God, it's nice to have actual help.

  “Jeremy! Take the quill out, and Starla will heal you. Quit being a big weenie.”

  “That freaking hurt!” He rolled over onto his butt and pulled the quill out. “Summumma!” he shouted. Starla went to work. I loved that little ring-tailed lifesaver.

  While he was whining, Steve and I kept shooting our attackers. We took down four more. His hands never wavered, his eyes locked and steady, yet the perfection of each hit felt uncanny. Lucky.

  Damnit! Why didn’t I pick that lineage? Stupid!

  All the noise we were making turned our current position into a magnet for more trouble. We needed to move and fast.

  “That’s amazing,” Jeremy explained as he got up and shook his calf. “It’s like nothing ever happened.”

  “It’s like magic?” Steve asked with a wink and then reached out for a fist bump from me. I grinned and obliged.

  “Screw y’all!” Jeremy resumed his pouting.

  I started the trek forward. Just over the small hill in front of us, I could see a long flat clearing. Suspecting this to be a particular great place for an ambush, I suggested we walk around.

  “Let’s stick to the trees,” I said and pointed with my whole hand.

  “Oh…look at me…I gotta knife hand,” Steve mocked me.

  “Shut up and move.”

  “Ok, dad,” he said and took point. I didn’t know if he had any official military training, but he knew how to hunt, stalk, and shoot, so it was an easy decision to change my mind about him guarding our rear and let him take the lead.

  We moved in a zig-zag pattern going from one tree to the next, always checking our six.

  “Do you hear that?” Steve asked. A faint buzzing sound came from up ahead, but my hearing was shot from my time in the military. Constant tinnitus ringing in my ears drowned out small noises and high pitch tones

  “A buzzing sound?” I asked.

  “Yeah. It’s getting louder as we head that way,” he pointed with a knife hand. I returned the point with my middle finger.

  We kept moving forward. I could definitely hear the buzzing now. It sounded like radio static, or a strange, pulsing, humming noise. The closer we got to whatever it was, the louder and higher pitched the humming got. I put my hand up ordering the other two to stop.

  Steve and I both cursed at the same time as the swarm found us and moved our way.

  We were focused on the swarm, and as if in slow motion, the woods opened up like a theater curtain. With a roar, the werewolf-like monster that attacked the men on the boats earlier came charging at us. I finally got a good look at it. This horrific creature looked like a cross between a werewolf and the mythical wendingo. The lipless mouth with dagger shaped teeth freaked me out the most.

  Steve started shooting, but the beast leapt right at him in a blur. He slapped Steve like swatting a fly, sending him soaring several yards away, knocking him unconscious. I charged with the machete, but it expeditiously ducked and rammed me like a bull, knocking the wind out of me.

  Jeremy lay there in frightened paralysis. The werewolf picked the 200 pound man up, tossed him over his shoulder like a bed roll, then took off.

  “You bastard!” I managed to yell, but I still couldn’t get up due to multiple rib fractures and probable vertebral damage. It was nothing life-threatening, but it hurt like hell. Steve was laying unconscious, leg bent at an awkward angle under him. What was that thing!?