My Last Story

 

As I'm sure everybody has guessed, I am retired. I struggled to transition to voice dictation, but I simply never got the knack of it. Yet in that time, I did manage to write one last story. It took me over a year to do it, but I thought it did deserve to be read. Its 10,000 words long, so it was too long to be sold to an anthology. Therefore, I'm making it free here. Due to its length, I knew it would be an uncomfortably long read for this format so I interspersed a few pieces of artwork to break up the read. Yes, it is AI artwork... and I know how some of you feel about it, and I usually feel the same...but it's for a free story that isn't AI, and the pictures were prompted and curated by the author, an author who always did his own artwork anyway. So please be forgiving on that matter. Anyways, Here's the story...

Legal Tender

June 1985

 

“Okay guys, be honest,” Jenny scanned the darkness warily, “are there alligators out here?”

Dennis ignored the question, because she had already asked it twice before. Besides, she was Cade's girlfriend, and Dennis felt that fielding her questions at this point fell on him.

“Nah,” Cade's voice came from the back of the boat, “and if there are any, they wouldn't be more than three feet long. This swamp just aint big enough to have any boss gators. Not enough game.”

Dennis reckoned this was true. Milner Swamp was only about 10 miles long and four miles wide. It followed the path of the San Lupe River before it emptied into Lake Hallisboro. It wasn't even a natural swamp, but had formed on this end of the San Lupe a long time ago when the dam had turned the other end into the lake. Yet when you were out in the middle of it, like they were now, it seemed to stretch out into forever.

Especially at night.

The moonlight was bright enough that Cade had extinguished all but one small lantern on their boat as it glided through the waterways. And they only needed that when the trees crowded close overhead. The soft putter of their engine didn't disturb the wildlife as the song of frogs and crickets surrounded them. The very darkness felt alive, accented by the occasional splash out in the night.

“This is nuts,” Jenny muttered. “Who builds a house out in a swamp anyways? Especially a big one?”

“Like I said,” Cade responded, “there wasn't a swamp when they built it. The state misjudged how far the water would back up when they built the dam, assuming they bothered to do a real study on it at all. Then the Carvers moved out when things started to get soggy around them. After that, it sat empty until Lacey Simmons moved in her girls and gaming tables a few years later. That's when we get to the part that starts concerning us. There was...”

Something grunted out in the blackness, causing both Dennis and Jenny to jump. It was followed by a crash in the brush and the fading sound of hooves splashing.

“Easy, you two,” Cade chuckled. “That was just a wild hog. There are a few of them around here.”

Dennis had already figured that out, and the fact he reacted the same as Jenny irritated him. Her fretting was starting to get on his nerves, which he chose to blame for making him jumpy too. Why the hell had Cade even brought her along?

“The things I do for a little money,” he grumbled.

Apparently Jenny wasn't mollified either.

“I thought wild hogs counted as game,” she grouched at the same time. “You know, the type that big gators eat?”

“Oh, good grief,” Cade groaned, “Jenny, I promise you are not going to get eaten by a giant gator tonight, or a wild hog...”

“... or murdered by Lacey's ghost.” Dennis added, still feeling a little mean after letting Jenny’s case of nerves bleed over into him.

He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Wait, wha...?!” The girl twisted around to look at him in alarm.

“Goddammit, Dennis!” Cade snapped. “Shut up!”

But it was too late.

“Oh, no you don’t, Cade Parker!” Jenny whirled back to face the other man. “You're not telling me something. I want the whole story, and this time without any inconvenient parts left out.”

Cade glared across the boat at Dennis, who couldn't really bring himself to care all that much. As far as he was concerned, Cade shouldn't have allowed the high-strung girl to tag along in the first place. Yeah, she was super hot, but hardly the risk-taking type. He was slightly surprised she even wanted to come. Maybe she suspected that if they found the money she would never see them again. After all, she probably knew that men with enough money in their pockets could find even hotter girls who weren't basket cases.

“It's only bullshit,” Cade sighed, “and exactly the type of crap that you wouldn't thank me for telling you. Just let it go.”

Dennis knew a lot of girls who would see the wisdom in that and not make it harder on themselves in this type of situation. Hell, it was simple common sense. But then there were the ones who just had to know. Even though they were already creeped out, they would insist on hearing every hair-raising detail.

Somehow, it didn’t surprise him in the least when Jenny placed herself among the latter.

“Tell me,” she demanded.

Cade shot another dark look at Dennis but then shrugged his shoulders in resignation.

“So be it,” he sighed. “Anyways, Lacey and her girls move in after a few years, along with this huge Swede and a couple other guys for security. It wasn’t a big operation, but I guess it brought in enough to make it work. And all this time the swamp keeps growing up around them. It got most of its booze from moonshiners and mainly served locals. It was a dry county back then, so the booze was an attraction all by itself. The girls and gambling were an added bonus. Best of all, nobody messed with them. Being back in the swamp like it was, there was no way for the sheriff to make a raid without them seeing it coming from a mile away.”

“You sound sorry you missed it.”

“Not really,” Cade chuckled. “My grandpa said he went a couple of times and it was nothing to write home about. He said the liquor was terrible, and the best that could be said about the girls were they probably wouldn’t break a mirror if they didn’t look in it too long.”

“Nice,” Jenny offered sarcastically.

“You asked.”

“Whatever. Go on…”

“Right. So things go on like this for a few years. Lacey’s becomes a county fixture, with them keeping a low profile and the law pretending they don’t exist. It was a situation everyone seemed content with. But that’s when the Quaid gang enters the picture…”

“Who?”

“Bad Bobby Quaid, Ronald Loftlin, and the two Brewer brothers... Eli and Jim. A group of small time hoods who stumbled into the big time. They mainly knocked over liquor stores and small Mom and Pop operations up near Oklahoma City. But then they got lucky. They just so happened to hit a gas station at exactly the same time as an armored truck was fueling up, and they scored huge. They got away with somewhere between 250,000 and 300,000 dollars.”

“Wow!”

“Yeah, they had hit it big.” A match flared where Cade lit a cigarette. He took a deep drag, studied the glowing ember, and then continued, “But now they had a problem. They were suddenly on everybody’s radar, and things got hot fast. Really hot. They needed to disappear quick, so they drove down here to Texas. Allegedly, one of the Brewer brothers knew about Lacey’s outfit, and Bobby decided that would be a great place to lay low.”

“Allegedly?” Jenny asked.

“Well from here on out, the story is mainly based on a secondhand account from a couple of moonshiners who heard it from a dying man, who didn’t speak good English. Let’s just say that leaves a lot of wiggle room when it comes to the exact details of what happened. Over the years a lot of people have come to believe the whole story is bullshit… but the Quaid gang did exist, they did steal that money, and then came down to Texas and vanished, never to be seen again.”

A coyote yipped somewhere out in the darkness, but this time nobody reacted. Cade now had their entire attention on the story.

“So one day, Lacey puts out the word that some of her girls have come down sick. She said she was going to close the place down for a few days to let them recover, and maybe put in a few repairs around the place. Nobody thought anything of it. According to the story, it was really because Bobby Quaid had shown up looking for privacy, but we’ll get back to that later. A few days pass and then a moonshiner named Ed Sanders takes a boat out there to deliver a shipment of hooch. That delivery didn’t go as planned.”

Dennis grinned at that, having heard different versions of this story before. This was one of the points that the different versions agreed on.

“As Ed pulled his boat in toward the house he saw something was definitely wrong. The two boats belonging to Lacey had been pulled out of the water and their contents strewn around. In addition to that, somebody had been digging holes in the earth around the house. He didn’t know what to make of it. So he secures his boat, grabs up his old shotgun and heads for the house. The front door is open so he carefully eases inside. That’s when he discovers that things are even worse than he thought.”

Cade paused to take a long drag of his cigarette, the brightened cherry illuminating his face in the darkness. Dennis felt sure he was doing it for effect.

 “The front hallway had blood stains on the floor, and empty suitcases lay scattered at the bottom of the stairs as if they had been thrown down in a mad frenzy. He could also see into the parlor where furniture had been overturned or pulled away from the walls. It was a scene straight out of a madhouse.

That’s when Lacey appeared in the rear door of the parlor and the madness really began.

Let’s just say she wasn’t looking so good. She was filthy, her hair looked like a fright wig, her makeup was smeared across her face, and her dress was stained from the waist down as if she’d been wading in the swamp. Whatever had happened, things were definitely not going well in Laceyland.

They stare at each other for a long second, after which Lacey suddenly screams like a banshee and whips out a pistol and shoots. She misses by a mile, but scares Ed so badly that he jerks the trigger of his shotgun and blows a hole in the floor. So she takes another shot… and she misses again. Meanwhile, it occurs to Ed that he should probably be doing something other than standing around waiting for her aim to improve. Knowing that his single-shot 12 gauge is now empty, he makes a break for it. He races back to his boat, ducking bullets, and motors the hell out of there. He doesn’t stop until he’s completely out of the swamp and reaches his uncle’s house upriver.”

Cade paused to take another drag as their craft slipped quietly onwards through the black waters. He looked up to where the overhanging branches slid past the full moon, as if debating how to continue.

“So she just went crazy?” Jenny prompted.

“Oh, it gets a lot darker than that,” Dennis cheerfully interjected, earning himself a worried look from Jenny and a scowl from Cade. He knew he was making things worse… but she had asked for it, and he couldn’t help himself.

“Anyways,” Cade pressed on, “Ed rounds up a bunch of his cousins and they head back out there. This time they’re loaded for bear. Yet once they get there it turns out they don’t need it. No gunfire greets them, and a quick search of the place reveals no sign of Lacey. Both of her boats were still there so she must have wandered off into the swamp. They widen their search area and still don’t find her, but they didn’t end up empty handed.

They found the big Swede.

He had pulled himself up onto an island about 150 yards from the house, and now lay dying under a bush. He had been gut shot. To make matters worse, he had waded through the swamp’s filthy water to get to his current location. He must have known he wasn’t long for the world because he managed to tell them, despite his broken English, that he would let them know what happened in exchange for a proper burial. They agreed. Satisfied, the Swede told his story.

Apparently, Bobby Quaid showed up and convinced Lacey to shut down for a few days so they could lay low. He gave her a couple of grand to make it worth her while, but in the process of doing that he must have let Lacey know how much money he had actually stolen. That turned out to be a mistake. A lethal mistake.”

Cade paused and looked back at the other two.

“The funny thing is,” he said as an aside, “is that it later became obvious that while the Swede was telling them all this, he did not tell the Sanders men how much actual money was involved. You have to remember that back then a quarter million dollars was a huge amount of money. Heck, it ain’t chump change now, or we wouldn’t be out here.” 

Then he took a last drag off of his cigarette, before flicking the butt out into the dark waters and resuming his tale.

“Anyways, the Quaid gang were small time for a reason, mainly because they weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed. They proved that the second night they were out there. They had themselves a party. The music played and the liquor flowed, and then Lacey’s girls managed to get each of them off alone… which made them easy pickings for the Swede and his two men.

By 10 PM they were all dead.

So the Swede and his men drag what’s left of the Quaid gang out to one of Lacey’s boats. Then they load them up and take them out into the swamp, where they cut them open and stuff them full of rocks before sinking them.”

“Ew…” Jenny protested.

“Standard swamp body disposal,” Cade explained, “and I doubt those four guys were the Swede’s first. They certainly weren’t his last. Because as soon as they sunk the last one, he promptly shot both of his henchmen and did the same thing to them.

Meanwhile, back the house, Lacey and the girls are celebrating their good fortune and anticipated retirement. But just like the Swede’s henchman, Lacey’s girls discovered that their retirement was going to be of the permanent sort. Late into the party they started dropping. Apparently, none of them noticed that Lacy was drinking from a different bottle than them.

But unlike the Swede’s henchman, they had suspected treachery, even though they hadn’t expected it to be murder.

As the last girl lay gasping on the floor, she looked at Lacey and started laughing. With her final words, she cackled that she had taken the money and moved it to a different suitcase, and then hidden it where Lacey would never find it. I suppose it was to make sure that Lacey didn’t take the money and run, leaving them behind. Regardless, the girl dies and Lacey discovers that her evil little plan has now gone sideways.

The Swede returns to find a parlor full of dead women, with Lacey screaming and kicking their bodies. She has already started to lose it. So he calms her down and gets her to focus on searching the house again. After that, he spends the rest of the night hauling dead hookers out into the swamp and sinking them too.

When morning comes, he’s exhausted. Therefore, being the practical guy he was, he simply pulls his boat up to the nearest hummock and spends most of the day asleep in that. Then he heads back to the house that afternoon to see if Lacey had found the money, or at least calmed down.

As it turned out, she had done neither. Not even close.

The Swede pulls in to find a half-crazed Lacey digging holes in the yard. She’s bawling and swearing and randomly tossing dirt around with her shovel. It was also pretty obvious she hadn’t slept a wink since he had left her. He could see right away that it was time for an intervention.

And that’s where he screwed up.

He pulls his boat up on shore, and then starts heading her way. But when she sees him, she lets out a shriek and starts running away. He certainly didn’t expect that. Confused, the Swede chases after her and around the house, where he finally catches her in the back. That doesn’t work out so well either. He grabs her by the shoulders and yells at her to calm down…

…while at the same time, she snatches the gun he had stuffed in his pants and blasts him in the stomach with it. Twice.”

“And he was surprised?” Jennifer blurted out. “What with everybody killing each other, didn’t it occur to him that chasing a woman down and getting grabby with her might not be a good idea? Especially if she’s already having some kind of breakdown?”

Dennis couldn’t help but respond to that one.

“Classic example of female logic,” he snorted. “The poor guy gets murdered in the act of comforting her, and somehow it’s all his fault.”

“Really?” Jennifer turned to fix him with a narrow eye. “Well, here’s another piece of female logic for you, Einstein. That little statement is a classic example of why you’re going to grow old wondering why you went through life as a sidekick.”

Ouch!

Dennis didn’t have a ready response for that one, so he silently fumed in the dark as other man continued his tale.

“You two…,” Cade groaned. “Anyways, fortunately for him, the Swede had used the other four bullets shooting his henchmen and hadn’t reloaded the gun yet. So she was out. But that still left him sitting on the ground, clutching his gut while she screamed at him that she wasn’t about to let him murder her and keep all the money for himself. Then she took off running back around the house.

It only took him a couple of seconds to realize she was probably heading for the boats to get more ammunition so she could finish him off. That’s when he understood he was properly screwed. He was badly hurt, unarmed, and alone on an island with a madwoman who would be back any minute to finish him off. He only had one option left. So he staggers over to the water and then wades off into the swamp to hide. That’s where his part in this story comes to an end, and where the Sanders boys found him later.

Anyways he dies after relating this story, and depending on who you want to believe, the Sanders boys either buried him or simply sunk him in the swamp like the others. Since they had time to search the house afterward, I’m betting on the latter.”

“Ugh,” Jennifer grumbled. “Were there any good guys at all in this story? Even one?”

“You have to remember,” Cade shrugged, “everybody involved was already a criminal to one degree or another. You weren’t gonna find any Boy Scouts in this crowd. But this story does end with a bit of irony. When they searched the house, they did find about $5000 that must have been Lacey’s earnings from her business. That was also a pretty decent chunk of change back then, and since the Swede didn’t tell them how much the Quaid gang managed to get in their heist, they just assumed that was the money he had been talking about. So they ransacked the place for anything they liked, went home happy and that was pretty much all there was to it.”

“But what about Lacey? What happened to her?”

“Nobody knows. She was never seen again.”

“That’s it? She was just gone?”

“Pretty much. Some people think she found the money and moved somewhere else, but I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Cade replied, “both boats were still at the house when the Sanders boys arrived, and they took them both back home with them to carry their spoils. If she was still alive, then she must have been hiding somewhere nearby and that would have left her with no alternative but to try and wade all the way out of the swamp. She would’ve never made it. And that’s assuming that the Sanders didn’t actually find and murder her too, then simply failed to mention that part of the story. Either way, I’m pretty sure she ended up feeding the fishes. So that’s the whole tale. Everybody died except the Sanders, who lived happily ever after. The end.”

Dennis knew the story didn’t really end there. Yet even though her wisecrack about him being a lifelong sidekick still rankled, he choked down the temptation to torment her further. Scaring her would only make her harder to deal with, and Cade was obviously hoping that ending the story here would satisfy her curiosity.

But it wasn’t to be.

“Uh huh, now what aren’t you telling me,” Jenny persisted. “Your fanboy back here made it pretty clear there’s more.”

Fanboy?! Seriously?

Okay, forget her feelings. Now she was asking for it.

“Well, the truth is,” Dennis drawled while ignoring the glare he knew Cade must be shooting his way, “saying that Lacey was never seen again isn’t quite accurate. ‘Seen alive’ would be closer to the truth.”

This time Jenny turned around to face him completely in the boat.

“What does that mean?” she demanded.

“What that means,” Dennis smirked,“ is about four months later Ed Sander’s cousin, Gus, is about to get hitched and he realizes his single bed just ain’t gonna cut it no more. But then he has a little brainstorm. He remembers that there were queen sized beds at Lacey’s old house in the girl’s rooms, and he figures if one of those were left it would make an excellent present for his new bride… well, as long as she never found out how many people had actually been in it.”

“Oh my God, gross!”

“Like Cade said, none of these guys would pass as high society. So Gus hops in his boat and motors his way out here to the swamp. Once he gets to the house, he ties off his boat and heads straight in. The place is a wreck but that was the way they left it last time, so he isn’t surprised. Then he heads upstairs and starts searching the rooms. And after some hunting and comparing, he finally settles on a bed that looks like it might have had less than 1000 different people use it.”

“Seriously, that’s really gross.”

Dennis grinned wickedly, then continued.

“ So Gus does a quick examination of the bid frame to get an idea of how the thing was put together. Having done that, it was time to get to work. It was already starting to get late. He ripped the old quilt and sheets off, and threw them in a corner because those were beyond reuse. Then he wrestled the old mattress off the bed frame and leaned it against the wall behind him. But when he turned around that’s when he discovered that things had gone off the rails… because there she was.

Standing right across the bed frame from him was a dead woman. Very dead. He later said the thing had been dead so long that the only way he knew it was a woman was because of the rotted dress barely visible under the shrouds of moss that covered the whole thing. He had no idea how she had gotten so close without him noticing, but there were wet footprints leading into the room so he must have just been so occupied with the mattress he hadn’t seen her.”

“This is bullshit,” Jenny interjected in a decidedly unhappy tone.

“ Poor old Gus sure wished it was,” Dennis pushed onwards, “because as soon as he had seen the thing it started coming around the bed towards him. He said it barely made a sound as it moved. Just a soft wet slither. But it moved alright, and it was coming his way. The fact it was already between him and the door made the situation even worse. He locked up. He could do nothing but stare as the horrible thing approached.

But then, finally, Gus got control of himself just as the thing was about to reach him. With no other escape route available, he turned and jumped out the window. That house has tall ceilings, so he knew it was going to be a long fall. But he jumped without thinking twice. And he didn’t even realize he had broken his arm until he had gotten up, run to his boat, and had motored halfway out of the swamp.”

“This is bullshit,” Jenny insisted.

“Maybe,” Dennis shrugged, “but it was real enough that Gus packed up and moved clear across the county so he would never have to be near Milner swamp again. That much is proven fact.”

“So what?” Cade snorted from the front of the boat, “Gus was a moonshiner and probably partook liberally from his own hooch. There’s no telling what he really saw, if he saw anything at all.”

Dennis knew he should probably drop it here, but he was on a roll and couldn’t help himself.

“Oh yeah?” he shot back, “What about Sam Barnaby? He wasn’t a drunk.”

“Who was Sam Barnaby?” Jenny asked warily.

“Dammit, Dennis…”

“Sam owned the hardware store over in Collinsdale. Texas had a blue law back then that said most stores had to close on Sundays, so he always took the opportunity to either go hunting or fishing. Needless to say, one Saturday evening he decided to do his hunting in Milner Swamp. He was hunting coon, and you do that at night. But unfortunately for him, he wasn’t out there too long before it started raining. That ended the hunt damn quick.

The rain started strengthening into a downpour and his little boat offered no type of shelter. Sam started looking for a tree big enough to take cover under, and that’s when he saw the Carver mansion in a flash of lightning. He figured his problems were solved. He had heard about Gus and his story, but he didn’t take it seriously and the house offered a lot more sensible shelter than a tree when lightning was about. It would even give him a chance to dry off while waiting out the rain.

So Sam pulls this boat up on shore, grabs his flashlight, and slogs his way over to the house. He is now thoroughly soaked. He stumps up onto the porch and then wrestles with the door because it’s probably gotten warped with age and stuck shut. It finally gives way and he stumbles into the darkness beyond. Now at least he’s out of the storm. But now that he’s inside, he remembers Gus Sanders’ story and start shining his flashlight around to see what’s up.

As it turned out, he was going to have even less time than Gus did to get out of there.

She was just taking the last step down the stairs that were straight ahead of him and starting his way. And she was just the way that Gus had described her… deader than hell, rotten, and draped in moss.

To Sam’s credit, he didn’t freeze up like Gus did. He spun around and charged straight back out into the rain. Then he hopped into his boat and got the hell out of there. Afterward, he didn’t move away like Gus did, but he didn’t do any more hunting in Milner swamp.

Put those two incidents together, along with a couple other things, and the story took hold that Lacey Simmons is still hanging around the Carver mansion hunting for that hidden money”

Nobody commented right away as Dennis wrapped up his story.

The night sounds of the swamp reasserted themselves as the boat slid through the gloom. The three rode in silence and Dennis began to wonder if maybe he had pushed things too far. He suspected he had. Yes, Jenny had annoyed him, but she was Cade’s girl and he really didn’t want to get on Cade’s bad side.

Fortunately, it was Cade himself who lightened the mood.

“ Ok, you two,” he announced, “Now that we got the campfire ghost story nonsense out of the way, I think it’s time to explain why we’ve got a great chance of finding that money and we’re out here tonight.”

That caused both Jenny and Dennis to perk up since Kade had been slightly vague about the details, other than to insist that he had just learned where they could pick up around $300,000 of lost money that nobody else had found.

“Earlier this week,” he continued, “my boss sent me to work on her renovation job for the County Historical Society. It was the Tarlington mansion in Collinsdale. That’s where I made an interesting discovery. While I was working on one of the fireplaces, I discovered it had a false back and opened into a small area. Nothing too big, maybe one average-sized person could squeeze in there, but it was a cool discovery and the members of the historical society were excited when I found it. One of them pointed out that the Pritchard House in Pritchard Hill also had one of these, and they had both been built by an architect named Archibald Smoot. They wondered if it was some kind of calling card of his.

But while they were wondering that, it occurred to me that there are three mansions remaining in Cole County, and they are all really old. So after I got off work I ran over to the county courthouse and did some digging. Take a wild guess who the architect was for the Carver Mansion…”

“ Archibald Smoot?” Dennis exclaimed with rising excitement.

“Archibald Smoot,” Cade confirmed, “and that space would easily hold a suitcase full of money.”

“And that would explain,” Jenny chipped in, “why Lacy couldn’t find the money! One of her girls must have found that secret compartment and kept the secret to herself. Then she hid the money in it so Lacey wouldn’t run away with it!”

“Exactly!” Cade beamed. “And I wanted to get out here fast before one of those eggheads at the historical society put two and two together and mounted their own expedition. Remember, all bullshit aside, that money was a historical fact and it has never turned up. It is real.”

Now the three fell silent again, but this time the silence was not uncomfortable. Even the song of frogs and crickets seemed more comforting in gloom. Dennis watched the trunks of trees slide by in the darkness, while imagining what he would do with his cut of the money. Who knows? Maybe he could land a girl as hot as Jenny with a little cash in his pocket.

And a sports car. Oh yes, a red sports car. Those things were chick magnets, and he could already picture himself driving around town with a cute blonde in the seat by side him. Heck, with a car like that he could probably get a little action on the side too.

It was while he still lingered in this fantasy that Cade’s voice broke his reverie.

“We’re here.”

***

 

Dennis looked up as the trees parted before their boat, and the derelict hulk of the Carver Mansion loomed into view.

He almost forgot to breathe at the sight of the thing. First of all, it was enormous. Secondly, it was easily the most frightening house he had ever seen in his life. Its age blackened spires, chimneys, and high peaked rooftops seemed to claw at the moon-washed sky. Dark, vacant windows gaped in all directions, while old fashioned shutters hung at crazy angles from warped hinges. And then there was the moss. Great shredded curtains of Spanish moss hung from all the eaves and windowsills, as if the structure were slowly becoming part of the swamp itself. It was a decaying Victorian monstrosity straight out of a Poe induced nightmare.

And he wasn’t the only one impressed.

“Oh, my God,” Jenny groaned beside him, all traces of her brief former enthusiasm gone. “This is nuts. Just look at that place.”

“It’s just a house,” Cade replied as he angled the boat towards shore. He brought the craft in and parked it in the darkness under a willow tree. Then, after tying the boat to a root, he pulled a crowbar from under the seat, hopped ashore, and motioned for them to follow.

And, of course, that’s when Jenny first balked.

“Nope,” she shook her head in negation, “Forget it. I’m not going up there. That place is evil. I can feel it from here.”

“Jenny…” Cade sighed.

“I’m serious. Can’t you feel that?!”

Dennis knew an impending standoff when he saw one coming, but he had an idea on how to nip this one in the bud.

“It’s cool, Cade,” he shrugged. “She can stay here alone and guard the boat from that big gator we promised her doesn’t exist. She’ll be fine.”

As he expected, that went over like a lead balloon. But It was worth it because it quickly became obvious that his strategy had worked. Jenny slowly stepped off the boat while glaring absolute daggers at him.

With that settled, the three trudged over the 60 feet of marshy ground separating them from the house. Each step made an audible squish. Cade led the way with Jenny tightly clutching his arm, and Dennis cautiously bringing up the rear.

The air grew heavier as they climbed the steps of the mansion’s sagging porch, the boards creaking ominously under Cade’s boots. Jenny clung tighter to his arm, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Dennis, trailing behind, swept his flashlight across the facade, its beam catching glints of broken glass in the windows and the eerie sway of moss in the breeze.

“Stay close,” Cade whispered, hefting the crowbar in preparation to putting it to use. The front door, warped by years of swamp humidity, groaned as he wedged the tool into the frame. With a sharp crack, it gave way, revealing a yawning darkness within. The smell of mildew and rot hit them like a physical force.

Jenny froze. “Cade, I’m not kidding. This is a bad idea.”

“Come on, Jen,” he said, his voice low but firm. “We’re this close. You want to wait out here alone?”

Her eyes darted to Dennis, who raised an eyebrow, mildly enjoying her discomfort… and seeing that even Cade had his limits.

“Fine,” she muttered, stepping forward but staying as close to her boyfriend as possible.

Inside, the flashlight beams danced across a ruined interior. The grand hallway, once elegant, was now a graveyard of splintered furniture and peeling wallpaper. Overturned chairs lay scattered like bones, their upholstery rotted to threads. A cracked mirror hung crookedly on one wall, reflecting their flashlight beams in jagged slivers. The air was thick, almost suffocating, and every step stirred up clouds of dust. Dennis aimed his light at the staircase, its banister leaning like a drunkard.

“If it’s like the other two houses, the fireplace we want will be upstairs,” Cade said, nodding toward the warped flight of steps. “It will be set in an interior wall, because that gave them room to add the secret space. Now let’s move.”

Jen looked like she intended to object again but apparently bit it off. This time Dennis wasn’t sure he blamed her. The condition of those stairs didn’t inspire confidence.

Yet $300,000 was $300,000, and they had come too far to stop now.

Dennis gritted his teeth and fought to ignore the creaks and groans as they carefully ascended toward the second floor. It wasn’t easy. His heart almost stopped on two different occasions when a step gave more beneath his weight than it should. Every second he feared hearing the loud snap that would send him plunging into the darkness below the stairs.

It was with a sigh of relief that he reached the 2^nd floor in one piece.

The second floor of the Carver Mansion was a labyrinth of decay, the air thick with the stench of mold and something sharper, almost metallic. Cade’s flashlight swept across the hallway, revealing sagging floorboards and doorways that gaped like open wounds. Shadows clung to the corners, shifting as their beams moved. Dennis felt a chill crawl up his spine, not from the cold but from the oppressive weight of the house itself. Being in this old hulk felt strangely like being buried alive.

“Stay sharp,” Cade said, his voice steady but quieter now.

He led the way, crowbar in one hand, flashlight in the other, while Jenny pressed so close to him she was practically stepping on his heels. Dennis continued to bring up the rear, his own flashlight darting nervously to the sides.

They moved past a series of closed doors, their warped frames suggesting rooms untouched for decades. Cade ignored them, heading straight for the end of the hall where a larger doorway opened into what must have been the master suite. The room was vast, its high ceiling sagging under the weight of time and water damage. Dark moldering piles of what had once been furniture lay scattered around the chamber. And finally, a massive fireplace dominated the wall to their left. Its stone was blackened by soot and age, the hearth cold and choked with debris.

“There,” Cade said, pointing. “Interior wall… and in the master bedroom, no less. That’s gotta be it.”

“Oh, my God,” Dennis whispered, “If the money turns out to be in here, that means those girls hid it from Lacey in her own room.”

“If it’s there,” Jenny breathed. “Please let it be there. I want to get out of this place.”

“Then let’s get on with it,” Cade knelt by the fireplace, running his hand along the stonework. “The Tarlington and Pritchard houses had a false panel in the back, usually triggered by a loose brick or a hidden latch. Help me look.”

Dennis handed his flashlight to Jenny and joined him, scanning the interior of the hearth. Jenny hovered behind them, the flashlight shaking in her grip. The fireplace was deep, its interior coated in grime. Dennis brushed away layers of soot, coughing as the dust filled his lungs. His fingers grazed a brick that felt slightly off—protruding just enough to notice.

“Here,” he said, his voice tight with excitement. “This one’s loose.”

Cade leaned in, shining his light on the brick. He wedged the crowbar into the gap and pried gently. With a low grinding sound, the brick shifted, revealing a small lever behind it. Cade glanced at Dennis, a grin breaking through his focus. “Jackpot.”

He pulled the lever, and a section of the fireplace’s back wall clicked, then swung inward with a groan of rusted hinges. A narrow, dark opening yawned before them. Jenny leaned forward with her flashlight, revealing a small space with a brick shelf in the back.

On that shelf sat a single, battered suitcase, its leather cracked and peeling.

“Holy shit, it’s real,” Dennis murmured, then turned to the others with rising emotion. “It’s real! We did it! We’re rich! Open it up, I want to see the money.”

“You got it,” Cade repositioned himself and reached in for the suitcase. But as his fingers brushed the handle, a new sound broke in on their celebration.

A muffled bang echoed from the depths of the house somewhere below.

The trio froze, all traces of their former elation suddenly gone. Not a one of them moved. Several brittle seconds passed as they stared at each other, wide eyed, in the wan light.

“What the hell was that?” Dennis squeaked at last.

Cade frowned, listening. “Probably just the house settling. Old places make noises.”

But Jenny’s voice cut in, sharp and panicked. “Bullshit, Cade! That was a door slamming. Something is down there!”

“Dammit, calm down,” he ordered. “There’s nothing down there.”

“But…”

“And if there is,” he spoke over her with uncharacteristic force, “it’s a goddam animal. We’re in a swamp, remember. Now calm the hell down!”

Jenny drew back with an expression of both surprise and anguish.

Startled himself, Dennis looked from one to the other. He had the unhappy conviction that the noise had sounded like a door slam as well. On the other hand, Cade’s fierce assertion and pragmatism had a steadying effect on his nerves.

Yet any comfort he took from his partner’s words vanished a second later.

“Mine…”

It was the worst sound in the world. The word definitely came from downstairs, yet somehow seemed to also emanate from the shadows around them. It was an unearthly, liquid hiss that reeked of obsession and madness.

It echoed off into the shadows, leaving the three gaping in a moment of stunned silence.

This time it was Jenny who recovered first.

“Was THAT an animal, Cade?” She wheeled on him, her eyes unnaturally wide and her face drawn. “Did that sound like a goddamned raccoon to you?!”

Things were spiraling out of control, and it was obvious that Jenny was descending into hysterics. Dennis was so scared himself that he could barely think. That voice still reverberated in his mind like every childhood nightmare come to life. Something was in the house with them and he didn’t even want to think about what that something could be. In desperation he fell back on old habits and looked toward Cade for guidance.

Cade stared at the floor as if lost in some internal struggle. Then, apparently coming to some conclusion, he set his jaw and rose to his feet.

“Dennis, get the money,” he ordered while hefting the crowbar. “We are leaving. Now. Jenny, stay close.”

Dennis scrambled to retrieve the suitcase, then hurried to follow the other two as they exited the room. They moved quickly, somewhere between a walk and a run, skirting debris as they made their way back the way they came. The shadows seemed to crawl around them as they went. Through each door they passed it seemed the darkness had come alive and weighed heavy with impending menace. Even the sounds of the outside swamp had become magnified and now surrounded them.

“Mine…”

Ethereal. Implacable. Unhinged.

“Cade!” Jenny called out. “Be careful. Whatever that thing is, it’s downstairs waiting for us.”

“And whatever it is,” he growled, “we’re going to blow right past it.”

Dennis wasn’t so sure about that plan, but he was too busy struggling with the weight of the suitcase while trying to keep up for much in the way of second guessing. The old piece of luggage was heavy! It took both of his hands on the handle, and he had to concentrate on keeping it from unbalancing him. Besides, once Cade settled on a course of action it took more debate than they had time for to change his mind.

“Here we go,” Cade yelled as he reached the top of the stairs and turned to charge downwards. “Don’t slow down till we reach the boat!”

And that was when disaster struck.

Due to his haste, Cade’s foot hit the next to top step with entirely too much force, causing it to give with a loud SNAP. His leg immediately plunged downward, but not past the knee because his momentum carried him past that point. He gave a startled cry as he fell forward and hit the next several steps with tremendous force. These were just as rotten and he smashed through them upon impact. And just like that, he was gone.

Meanwhile, Jenny teetered on the edge of the second floor, her arms flailing for balance in an effort to avoid falling in after him. But physics would not be denied. She had her own momentum working against her, and gravity was not her friend.

She was just in the process of falling forward when Dennis caught up and yanked her back from the edge.

Yet the worst was not over.

The sound of cracking and splintering filled the air around them. The floor shuddered, causing them to take another step back from the edge. Then, right before their horrified eyes the entire staircase seemed to sag before collapsing inward with a mighty crash. Then, just as they thought it was over, another groan echoed throughout the house and the floor on that end of the grand hallway gave way, sending the entire pile of shattered lumber into unknown depths below.

“Cade!” Jenny shrieked and staggered back to the edge to shine her light down below.

Dennis joined her and peered down to see the reflection of water glinting back up at them from the hole. Broken boards and banister pieces poked up through the surface from the submerged pile below.

“Oh crap,” he wheezed from the dust in the air. “This place must have had a cellar and it got flooded by the swamp.”

“Cade!” she called again, although the tearful quality entering her voice it made was easy to see she didn’t expect to receive an answer.

But receive one she did.

“Mine…”

Jenny screamed and swept her light around the room below. The result was confusion. Dust occluded the beam, making it hard to pick out details. Her unsteady hand didn’t help matters either. But just as Dennis was about to try to get her to slow down, something must have caught her eye because she settled the beam on a doorway about halfway down the hall… and its occupant

This time they saw it, if only briefly.

The figure in the doorway was already turning away when the light fell on it, and it immediately lurched into the room beyond. But what little they saw was enough. The hanging sheets of moss that shrouded its form. Patches of torn and stained pale cloth showing through from underneath. A glimpse of gray flesh and bone. They didn’t really need anything more to put the picture together.

“Oh God, that was her,” Jenny forced out in a horse whisper. “That was really her. We have to get out of here!”

“Yeah… uh… right,” Dennis stammered, desperately trying to think. Things were happening too fast. Cade was dead, the stairs were gone, and they were trapped in a house with a psychopathic dead woman.

“Dennis!”

“Uh… servant stairs!” His mind snapped onto the idea, and he turned to head toward the back of the house. “I think these big old houses had servant stairs, or back stairs, or whatever they were called! We gotta find those.”

“NO, Dennis!” She grabbed his arm as he started to move away. “That’s where she’ll be heading right now. Do you really want to run into her in a dark stairwell?”

Horrified, he realized she was right. He had been about to lead them straight into the gruesome thing’s embrace.

Despair started to set in as he returned to the edge of the second-floor landing. One look was all it took to see that jumping was out of the question. It would have been a twelve-foot drop before the stairs and floor collapsed. Now it was at least seventeen feet down onto jagged spears of lumber. This avenue offered no escape, and death was closing in.

But although the option of jumping here was out, the idea made him realize that they actually still had an option left. Not a great one, but all the great options were gone.

“C’mon,” he grunted, and started lugging the suitcase down a side hallway. “This place has balconies, and we need to get to one.”

If she were starting to get an idea of his plan, she looked non too enthused about it. Yet at the same time she quickly made it obvious she had other concerns.

“Can’t you move faster? How heavy is that thing?”

“At least 70 or 80 pounds,” He puffed with exertion. “Why? You want to leave it behind?”

“Mine…!”

That had definitely come from somewhere around the rear of the house, thus proving Jenny’s earlier warning correct. Now she looked behind them, her face a mask of terror and indecision, before turning back to him with agony in her eyes.

“No,” she answered in an anguished voice.

“Good, because that was never an option in the first place.”

“Just please try to move faster!”

Dennis snarled with effort as he reached the door at the end of the hallway. Not bothering to set down the suitcase, he dealt it a single desperate kick. That was almost a mistake. His foot punched through the rotten wood next to the door knob. Fortunately, it knocked the knob and whole lock apparatus loose in one chunk, allowing him to barely maintain his feet as the door flew open and he stumbled through the opening.

He cursed himself over such a stupid move so soon after Cade’s calamity, but then his heart rose at the sight before him.

Moonlight flooded in through a door hanging on its hinges.

There was no time to waste. Dennis lugged the suitcase through the decaying room with Jenny right behind him.

With exquisite care he stepped out the exterior doorway, slowly putting his weight on the balcony beyond. He hated every second of it. It was obviously decrepit, and under any other circumstances he would never do this. Every creak and groan added to his misgivings.

But fortune smiled and the floor held beneath him. Dennis reached the edge and immediately put the next step of his plan into action. Marshaling his strength, he slowly lifted the heavy suitcase and gently set it on the railing without letting go.

“Jenny, come here. I want you to keep this balanced on top of the railing until I tell you otherwise.”

“Why? What are you doing?”

“I’m keeping you from having to try and lift that thing yourself. Now watch what I do because you’re going to have to do the same thing in a few seconds.”

She quickly took his place balancing the suitcase, and he hurried down the edge of the balcony to a point where the railing was missing.

Once there, he sat down with his feet hanging over the edge. Then he carefully twisted around until his weight was supported by his hands and lowered himself over the side. This ended with him hanging from the floor of the balcony by his hands.

“Dennis, it’s at least fifteen feet down! Are you crazy?”

“Nope, I’m just out of choices,” he gasped, and let go of the balcony.

The time falling unnerved him, and then he landed hard. But he had been expecting that, so had made sure to land with his knees bent. That, and fact the ground was soft, probably prevented him from having any broken bones.

Yet pain still flared through his knee as he landed and fell over backwards unto the wet ground. It was all he could do not to clutch his knee and cry out. But he simply had no time for that. Forcing down a whimper, he climbed to his feet and limped over to where he stood beneath Jenny in the suitcase.

“Okay, Jenny. Just push the suitcase off the rail, and I’ll catch it.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she snapped. “It’s too heavy! There’s no way you can catch this thing! You’re already hurt.”

“ I’m fine,” he shot back. “But if that old suitcase hits the ground from that high it’s going to bust open and we’ll lose the money. Now just push it off the rail so that I can at least break its fall.”

“Fine,” she relented, ”but I’m starting to see a real problem with our recent decision making.”

She gave the suitcase a shove.

And just as she predicted, Dennis’s plan was a mistake.

The heavy bag hit him square in the arms and chest, smashing him straight to the ground. This time he knew he was hurt. His shoulder erupted in agony, while the air was driven from his body by the impact.

“Shit!” he choked out, trying to roll over on his side while attempting to squirm out from under the suitcase. At least it hadn’t busted open. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure if the same was true of himself yet.

“Dennis,” Jenny’s voice hissed from overhead, “get up! I’m going to need your help!”

He winced and looked up to see her shining the flashlight down at him. That turned out to be the opposite of helpful. He realized he was essentially one armed when even the effort of raising his right hand to block the beam caused his shoulder to scream.

“Quit shining it in my eyes,” he gritted his teeth while struggling to push the suitcase off of him with his left hand.

The soft marshy soil he lay in made his effort to roll for extra leverage harder. It wasn’t until his second try that he succeeded, and in doing so he rolled over onto his injured shoulder which actually caused him to see stars from the pain. His only recourse was to keep rolling so that he was now faced down on the ground.

“ Almost there,” Dennis gasped. He knew he needed to keep going. Time was running out. It felt like his entire being was a battlefield between fear and pain, with that knowledge being the deciding factor. Setting his jaw, he pushed himself through the one-armed effort of getting to his hands and knees.

Taking a few deep breaths, he marshaled the energy to push himself to his feet…

…and that’s when the flashlight landed on the ground beside him.

“Huh?” He gazed stupidly at the light for a second. Then realization struck and he snatched it up before spinning on his knees and shining it up towards the balcony.

The thing had caught Jenny from behind and was already well into the process of killing her.

One moss draped arm encircled her from the rear, pinning her arms to her sides and pressing her against the railing. The other withered clawlike hand clutched her throat, crushing it closed while holding her stiffly upright. She couldn’t move. She couldn't even make a squeak. Her eyes bulged in her discolored face while her mouth gaped in a futile attempt to draw breath.

And over her shoulder leered the face of horror itself.

Hanging moss and dripping hair had parted to reveal the final visage of Lacey Simmons. The upper half of her face was a tattered mask of rotting flesh, stretched thin like brittle parchment, and framing two dark sockets from which shrunken eyes glared with insane malice. But below the cheekbones the flesh ended. Bare jaws jutted out at the world with a deaths-head smile. Her teeth, exposed and uneven, glowed white in the low light.

Nothing human remained in a face that had become a ghastly mockery of humanity… something Lacey had lost even before she died.

Worst of all, there was nothing Dennis could do. Nothing. He could only watch helplessly as the grinning obscenity choked the last remaining life out of the girl in its grasp. A single tear gleamed in the flashlight’s beam as the last spark of vitality left her eyes.

“Jenny…” He called weakly, as much in apology as despair. But it was pointless.

She was gone.

Without further pause, the horror viciously slung the girl’s body over the railing. It fell in a sudden hushed silence before landing near the boy with a sodden crunch. There it rested, crumpled in a twisted heap at his feet… silent... Jenny's dead eyes staring at him as if in accusation from her dirt smeared face.

Unable to bear that gaze, Dennis looked up to see the horrid wraith grasp the railing and lean over to glare down at him.

“Mine,” it snarled with single minded fixation, before turning and stalking back into the house.

He didn’t think. He didn’t breathe. He just moved. Scrambling to his feet, he grabbed the suitcase’s handle with his good arm, ignoring the searing pain in his shoulder. The heavy bag dragged through the mud as he stumbled backward, his eyes locked on the balcony. The thing was gone.

But it would be coming, and it wouldn’t take long. Right now it would be making its way through the house to get to an outside door. He couldn’t be here when it did. He had to get to that boat.

Dennis’s heart pounded as he staggered through the marshy ground, the weight of the suitcase pulling at his good arm while his injured shoulder screamed with every step. The swamp’s night sounds—frogs, crickets, the occasional splash—now felt like a mocking chorus. His flashlight beam bobbed wildly, cutting through the darkness as he aimed for the willow tree where they’d tied the boat.

“Mine!”

He heard the front door being ripped open behind him, and knew the race was truly on.

He didn’t dare look back. His flashlight beam bobbed wildly, cutting through the darkness as he aimed for the willow tree where they’d tied the boat. His only thought was escape. Get to the boat, get out, get away.

Dennis reached the water’s edge, his breath ragged, and shoved aside the overhanging branches. That’s when his stomach plummeted down to a whole new level.

The boat was gone.

“No!” he wailed, his eyes locked on where the rope, frayed and severed, dangled uselessly from the root where Cade had tied it. Where was it?! The evil bitch must have cut it before heading to the house to kill them! He desperately shone the light around in search of the vessel, knowing he had mere seconds left. As it turned out, he spotted it right away.

The small craft spun lazily, thirty feet away, caught in a slow eddy.

In any other circumstances the idea of wading into the black water would have appalled him. But not tonight. He plunged in without hesitation.

The chill of the water barely registered as he struggled forward. The mud was another matter. His feet sunk up to his ankles in the subsurface muck, making each step a test of strength and balance. A test made even more unfair by the weight of the suitcase and what that made him do. In a frantic effort to keep the suitcase out of the water, he forced his injured limb into play. Dennis cried aloud as he lifted the suitcase with both arms and held it up against his chest.

At the same time, he knew this was taking too long. The water and the suitcase combined to slow him too much. Each sloshing step was now its own laborious eternity. He wasn’t going to make it. Any second he feared the grip of the horrid revenant falling on his shoulder, and he could feel the scream building in his throat. In despair, he looked over his shoulder to see how much time he had left…

…and stumbled to a shocked halt.

Apparently, the chase was over

The dead thing stood twenty feet behind him, having come to a stop at the water’s edge. Now it simply stood there, a pitch-black silhouette under the shadow of the willow tree.

“What the hell?” Dennis gasped, not trusting this for a second. He eased another step backward while fighting to catch his breath.

The vile phantasm neither moved nor spoke. It simply stood there, fixing him with an obsessed stare that he could practically feel.

Dennis gazed back in confusion, but then another idea intruded.

“You can’t go any further, can you,” he realized aloud. “You only haunt the house and its grounds!”

No response. The thing stood silent, with only the song of frogs and crickets for an answer.

A surge of elation ran through him as the implications of his own words settled in.

“And you know what that means?” his voice started to rise. “Do you understand what that means?!”

If it did, it gave no sign.

“Mine!” he yelled while rapping the suitcase with his fist. “MINE! You lose! You killed all those people, then got your own evil ass killed, before coming back from the dead and killing again… and you still lose! Chew on that in Hell, you rotten bitch. You did it all for nothing, and I win. Me! The sidekick! Well, not anymore. I win!”

The boy panted with emotion as he stared at the unmoving shadow. Nothing in its ragged silhouette gave any evidence of a reaction.

“Mine,” he snarled, then turned away to leave.

But it wasn't to be.

That’s when he heard the gentle slosh of water. That’s when he discovered what had drifted up between him and the boat during his tirade. And that’s when he discovered that he hadn’t won after all.

His eyes widened at the sight of this last, lethal bit of irony.

“Aw hell,” he groaned, “we were wrong about the big gator too.”

Two seconds later his screams echoed through Milner Swamp.

***

Three days later an abandoned boat was discovered floating at the west end of Hallisboro Lake. No sign of its owners were ever found. But that story barely reached the consciousness of the surrounding county due to another event that had people flocking to the lake. Old paper money of different values were discovered floating on the water. Fishermen were scooping it up into their boats, while others collected what washed up on shore. Other than the irritation of having to deal with the sudden influx of people, local police greeted the situation with a shrug.

“Judging by the dates on the bills,” Sheriff Patterson noted, “this money must have been lost a long time ago. Legally, I guess, it’s finders keepers.”