Wildlife- Reckoning Read online

  Its appetite now sufficiently teased, hunger overrode caution, and the alligator continued to creep closer, eager for more.

  And the man gave it more, pulling and tossing a second fish, this one snatched in midair and gulped as greedily as the first.

  The alligator crept closer. Maybe three yards away now. It emitted a low hissing sound, the glowing red eyes nature gifted it for nocturnal hunting inducing an almost deliberate terror.

  The man pulled a third and final fish but did not toss it. He placed it at the base of Ed’s inverted head. Picked up the bucket of fish guts, then tossed the remaining chum into Ed’s face once again.

  The alligator crept closer.

  “PLEEEEAAASE…”

  The man smiled, patted Ed on the belly, started whistling his lazy tune, and left.

  Chapter 3

  South Florida

  Fort Myers

  “Wake up, wake up, wake up.”

  Bryan opened one eye. Stacey was straddling and grinning down on him like a kid.

  “Honey, please.” He tried rolling her off, but like her grin, she was going nowhere.

  “Early bird gets the Netflix deal,” she said.

  “You’ve already got the deal. Let me sleep.”

  “My deal is conditional…” She flicked his head. “Like ours.”

  “Ow.” He rubbed his head. “How is our deal conditional?”

  “If you anger the goddess, she will make life hell for the sheep.”

  “Bitch, you’re my sheep.”

  She laughed and flicked his head again. “Come on, get up.”

  With the exception of the lamp next to Bryan’s side of the bed (that Stacey had happily clicked on before she pounced on him), the motel room was still fairly dark. The shades were drawn, and the soft, gray light of morning had only just begun to glow around the edges.

  He closed his eyes again. “Stacey, the sun’s not even up. Please.”

  She rolled off him and stood, pulling her dark hair back into a ponytail as she spoke. “What if I went and got you coffee? Would you get up then?”

  Bryan popped one eye open again, far more interested this time. “Keep talking.”

  “Coffee and a bagel.”

  “Coffee and a bacon, egg, and cheese?”

  She secured the band around her ponytail with a snap. “Fine.”

  “Deal.” He smiled, closed his eyes and blew her a patronizing little kiss, then snuggled back up into a ball of blankets. “Take your time,” he added.

  “Nobody likes a douche.”

  “Love you.”

  “I’m gonna spit in your coffee.”

  “Mmmm…”

  She turned on the TV, cranked the volume, placed the remote out of arm’s reach, and hurried out. She heard him yelling on the other side of the motel door and grinned her childlike grin.

  ***

  Stacey knocked on the motel room door three down from hers and Bryan’s. She had no delusions that the face on the opposite side of the door would be any cheerier than Bryan’s had been, and therefore when Tommy answered looking puffy, unkempt, and annoyed, she was prepared with similar tactics.

  “Coffee on me,” she said straightaway.

  Tommy opened the door for her but said nothing. Just headed back inside the room and flopped facedown onto the bed. Stacey followed and closed the door behind them.

  “Good morning to you too, sunshine,” she said.

  Tommy grumbled into his pillow.

  “Come on—coffee on me,” she said again.

  He turned his head to the side, speech slurred by both sleep and his refusal to lift his mouth from the pillow completely. “Where’s Bryan?”

  “I let him sleep.”

  “Then why do I have to get up?”

  “Because I said. Come on.”

  Tommy rolled onto his back and placed a forearm over his eyes, keeping it there as he spoke. “Stace, this is just a reconnaissance thingy. They just want to make sure we’re good on our word.”

  “Exactly. I want to show them that we are.”

  “Of course we are. But it’s not like history’s going to change if we don’t get to it at the butt crack of morning. All the crazy shit that went down will still have happened—probably more so.”

  Stacey frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Tommy pulled his forearm off his eyes and looked at her. “Stories and legends grow by the day; they don’t diminish. We’re going to get our fill.”

  Stacey plopped her butt next to him, bouncing the bed. “But I don’t just want ‘our fill.’ And I don’t just want legend. I want real. You’re right; the legend probably does grow more every day. That means more bullshit and less substance. Fuck that noise. I want to dig until our backs break, you know?”

  “Stace, there’s probably a million tourist spots we can hit up that will give us more than everything we need.”

  She slapped his leg. He jumped and yelped.

  “Did you hear me?” she said. “I don’t want touristy bullshit. You think Netflix is going to be happy if we bring them back a bunch of crap they could have found after five minutes on the internet?” She cast him a disappointing glare. “Christ, you sound like Bryan. This is not the done deal you think it is. It’s a test, and we need to pass the hell out of it. People would kill to be in our shoes.”

  Tommy groaned. “Are you done?”

  Stacey looked at him skeptically, ready for debate. None was forthcoming—lack of sleep was the only reason for Tommy’s cynicism.

  “Yes,” she said evenly.

  “You still buying coffee?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to get me killed during this trip?”

  “Probably.”

  “Okay.” He sat up in bed, wiped sleep from his eyes, and then ran a hand back and forth over his balding head of black hair.

  She gripped his chubby face with both hands. “We are going to make the most badass documentary ever, my friend. You are going to get exceptionally laid when this is done.”

  “Now, see, if you had just said that from the start, we could have avoided all this rigmarole.”

  Stacey grinned and patted his cheek. “Get up and get ready. I’m going out on the balcony for Number One.”

  “You know, if I didn’t know you better, I would think you were going outside to take a whizz.”

  Stacey stood and pulled the pack of Marlboro Lights from her bag. Having promised Bryan she’d quit when she turned thirty, she was now down to just three a day, each labeled accordingly.

  “Maybe later tonight when we’re all drunk,” she said.

  “Speaking of which, when are we meeting up with your friends?”

  Stacey was at the door, cigarette in her mouth, unlit and bobbing as she spoke. “Not sure. They live in Miami. I’ll call them soon. They know all about the Roy family and the craziness that went down. They took off work the whole week, and they’re super excited to tag along.” She opened the door and stepped a foot outside, lit her cigarette, and made sure to exhale away from the room. “Why do you ask? You hoping to get lucky?”

  He wiped the last of the sleep from his eyes. “Well, why should I have to wait until the film is done?”

  “Because it will increase your chances exponentially.”

  He flipped her the bird.

  She laughed. “Morgan has a boyfriend. I’ll warn Leigh of your intentions, though.”

  “Please don’t,” he said. “Men who look like me need a subtle approach.”

  “Oh, shut up; you’re adorable.”

  “Says the girl who got me out of bed with promises of sex should we produce a lucrative film.”

  She exhaled out the door again. “That was kind of sleazy on my part.”

  “And somewhat misogynistic, if you ask me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Save your white-knight bullshit for when you meet Leigh.”

  Now it was Tommy who laughed. “Bryan’s a lucky man.”

  “Duh. Now
, get up.”

  Chapter 4

  South Florida

  Miami

  Tommy steadied the camera. Stacey, rocking from foot to foot, grinning her impossibly wide grin, rang the doorbell at least half a dozen times. Bryan wisely kept his distance from the eruption he knew was coming.

  The door opened. Stacey sprang, hoping to leap into the arms of either Morgan or Leigh. She got Morgan…and a large tray of margaritas.

  Glasses, tray, and alcohol splashed and crashed, but there was no moment of pause or apology for the mishap, only laughter as Stacey clutched her friend, the two of them twirling in one another’s arms. Leigh emerged from the next room, and both she and Stacey screeched on sight, running towards one another, this time Leigh jumping into Stacey’s arms, the two of them laughing and crying with joy, Leigh peppering Stacey’s face with adoring kisses.

  Tommy, keeping the camera on the scene (Stacey had insisted he film practically every waking moment of their journey, especially her reunion with Morgan and Leigh after nearly two years), took his eye off the lens for a moment, and glanced back at Bryan with a raised eyebrow. Bryan, still maintaining a cautious distance in the doorway to avoid being swept up in the storm, only shrugged back. Told ya, his shrug said.

  Of course Bryan could only avoid the storm for so long. Morgan and Leigh soon spotted him in the doorway, the two girls crouching low, creeping towards him like cats about to pounce.

  “Get over here, sexy,” Leigh warned.

  Bryan stepped inside, and the storm got him good. Hugs and kisses from all angles, squeezes of the face, mashing his cheeks, telling him how cute he still was, that he looked exactly the same as he did in college, Stacey standing back, grinning, watching her best friends devour and embarrass her boyfriend with joy.

  When Bryan eventually stumbled free, all eyes shifted to Tommy—the quiet fella holding the camera.

  “Who’s this?” Morgan asked.

  Tommy said nothing, just kept his eye glued to the lens, the camera clearly his security blanket in the company of two new attractive women, one of them apparently single, no less.

  Stacey swept a theatrical hand towards Tommy. “Mo? Leigh? I’d like you to meet my assistant, Tommy.”

  Tommy, camera staying put by the side of his head, offered a weak hello and a wave.

  “You can stop filming and say a proper hello,” Stacey said.

  Tommy mumbled something inaudible and lowered the camera. He stepped forward with his hand extended. Morgan was the first to take it. He shook her hand and said: “Pleased to meet you, Morgan.”

  Still holding his hand, Morgan glanced over at Stacey, her expression a demonstrative show of captivation. “Such a gentleman.”

  Tommy’s face immediately reddened.

  Leigh, who would eternally struggle with the concept of subtlety, crooned: “Awww…he’s blushing!”

  Tommy’s face flushed further still. He smiled awkwardly and muttered: “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are, sweetie,” Stacey said. “You look like a pomegranate.”

  “Oh, leave the guy alone,” Bryan said.

  “Or else what?” Leigh said.

  “Or else I’ll yank those fake-ass extensions out of your head.”

  Leigh’s mouth dropped open as though hearing the most insane piece of gossip imaginable. She ran a hand through her long blonde hair. “I will have you know that this luxurious head of hair is all mine, mister.”

  “All yours as in you paid for them yourself?”

  Forever his eager sparring partner, Leigh held a playful fist up to Bryan’s face. “Keep talking shit; see what happens.”

  Stacey smiled and shook her head. “Not here five minutes. I swear you two are like brother and sister.”

  Leigh pointed a finger at Bryan, squinting at him like a gunslinger. “To be continued, punk.”

  Bryan splayed his hands like a pseudo tough guy. “I’ll be there, bitch.”

  Morgan and Stacey laughed.

  “Okay, moving on from this sad display…” Stacey said. “Leigh, this is Tommy. Tommy, this is Leigh.”

  Tommy extended his hand just as he’d done with Morgan. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Leigh took his hand. “Likewise,” she said. “So, you’re the hotshot camera man, huh?”

  He glanced down at the camera at his side and shrugged. “More or less.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Stacey said to him. Then to Leigh: “He’s amazing. He’s won like a million—” She spun back to Tommy. “How many awards have you won?”

  Tommy gave a sheepish shrug. “I don’t know.”

  She pursed her lips and frowned at him, annoyed at his modesty. She turned back to Leigh: “He’s won like a million awards.”

  Leigh’s eyebrows went up. “Impressive.”

  “How’d you guys hook up?” Morgan asked.

  Stacey gestured towards Bryan. “My awesome man.”

  Bryan took a bow.

  “I used to own a video store,” Tommy said. “Lots of retro horror stuff. Bryan came in a lot.”

  “Very cool,” Morgan said.

  Bryan interrupted: “Uh…I’m all down for catching up and everything, but are we going to just ignore the fact that there’s broken glass and margaritas all over your floor?”

  “Good point,” Leigh said. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned, not with cleaning supplies, but with a big bottle of tequila and five shot glasses.

  “See what you did?” Stacey said to him.

  “Sorry.”

  Leigh poured the shots. “Suck it up, bitches.”

  Stacey laughed.

  Leigh handed out the shots one by one. She raised hers and said: “To what will be the most badass documentary in Netflix history.”

  “Fuck yeah,” Stacey said.

  They raised their shots and drank. Everyone but Leigh winced from the tequila’s bite. Leigh laughed and immediately poured another round.

  Chapter 5

  Seated now around Morgan and Leigh’s living room, sipping their drinks (they’d mercifully transitioned from shots to the intended margaritas) and munching on chips and guacamole, they spent the first hour reminiscing about college and the subsequent good times after, happily embarrassing one another with occasional tales of debauchery.

  Eventually, when constant laughter began to hurt the face and drain the tears, the conversation shifted towards the actual reason for the trip, for Stacey’s desire to get deep, very deep into the unsavory corners of a culture typically avoided.

  “Are you nuts?” Morgan said. “You’ve seen Deliverance, right?”

  Bryan mimicked the classic banjo riff from the film.

  “I want that kind of stuff!” Stacey declared.

  “You want Bryan and Tommy to get raped in the woods?”

  “Huh?” Tommy said.

  Leigh snorted a laugh and then covered her mouth.

  “You know what I mean,” Stacey replied. “I’ll tell you guys what I told them—” She pointed to Bryan and Tommy. “Netflix didn’t send us down here to get the same old bullshit that anyone could get. They’re testing us to see whether we can get them something epic. Something that people will want to watch.” She threw up her hands. “I mean, do you know the story? What happened?” She pointed at Morgan.

  “Yeah.”

  She pointed at Leigh. “Do you know the story?”

  “Yeah.”

  She pointed at Bryan. “Do you know the story?”

  “What’s your point, honey?” Bryan said.

  “My point is that everyone knows the damn story. So what reason would they have to watch?”

  “Because it’s macabre?” Morgan said. “People love the macabre.”

  “But the story,” Stacey said. “Would it give them anything they didn’t already know? Sure, they might watch it with a passing eye, but that’s not what Netflix wants. They want the documentary equivalent of Breaking Bad. To have people so hooked after the first episode that they put their lives on ho
ld for the next couple of days and binge watch until their eyes bleed.”

  “I never thought Breaking Bad was so great,” Bryan said.

  Tommy looked as though someone had just told him his mother had died. “What?”

  Bryan shrugged. “Sorry. I just didn’t think—”

  “Shut up,” Stacey told them. Back to Leigh and Morgan: “You get what I’m saying now?”

  Morgan nodded and took a sip of her margarita, her pale, freckly skin enhancing the flushing in her cheeks from the alcohol. “I get it.”

  Stacey now turned to Leigh. “You get what I’m saying?”

  “I get it. It could get dangerous, though.”

  Stacey waved a hand back at Bryan and Tommy. “That’s why these two studs are here.”

  Bryan and Tommy exchanged a we didn’t sign up for that look.

  Leigh gestured towards Bryan. “Mr. Psych Major over there? I can kick his ass. I’ve lost count of how many times I have over the years.”

  “I think you meant to say you’ve lost count of how many men you’ve had over the years,” Bryan said.

  Stacey and Morgan grinned and “oohed.”

  Leigh raised a fist. “Keep it up.”

  “Is that what you used to tell them? Threatening fist and all?”

  Stacey and Morgan laughed. Even Leigh had to acknowledge Bryan’s wit with a laugh.

  “Much as I hate to admit it, Leigh does have a point,” Bryan eventually said. “If we venture into the kind of places you’re talking about—dive bars, swamp huts on the river, whatever—it could get dangerous at times. And I’m not talking about snakes and alligators.”

  “I’ll talk Mick into coming with us,” Morgan said.

  “Who’s Mick?” Tommy asked.

  “Her boyfriend,” Bryan told him. “Dude’s a badass. Into MMA and all that.”

  “He’s also got a gun,” Morgan added.

  “He does?” Stacey said, looking surprised.

  “We live in Miami,” Morgan replied.

  “Is he good with it?” Bryan asked.

  Morgan shrugged. “I think so. He goes to the range a lot.”