The Aumaille Swamp Tour Co.

Part 2

I felt as though I had just swallowed a frozen ball of lead. A cold sweat broke out all over my body. It couldn't be, it just couldn't, I thought, but it was her. Her espresso colored skin had begun to lose a bit of its color. Dirty water dripped from her hair and her clothes.

"Wh-what do you want from me?" It was more of a plea than a question.

She stared blankly, and, just as she had done the night she disappeared, she lifted her hand and pointed. My gaze followed the direction of her finger, it pointed to the open door. Through the door I could see the docks and the spot where the missing boat should have been. I looked back at her and she was staring at me. Her expression was blank, and she made me nervous, but I wasn't afraid of her. I believed she was there to warn me. Her eyes widened; I was wasting time, but I just couldn't go back out there.

"I'm crippled now, I can't do anything to help those people! I'll call the police." I turned to go grab the telephone when I heard a strange gurgling sound coming from the woman. Her lips parted and black water and mud came bubbling out of her mouth, followed by a guttural scream. Without me telling them to, my own feet began to carry me out the door.

I limped as fast as I could toward the docks, pulling a set of keys out of my pocket. I kept the spares of all three boats on me in case of emergencies. I hopped in Boat 1 and started it up. The sun was setting down past the tree line. I clumsily made my way out of the little cove we kept the boats in and headed down the river. I was traveling as fast as the cumbersome pontoon would carry me. I picked up the handset and tried the missing boat once again, "Boat 3 what is your location? I am en route to assist you."

There was no answer, and it was beginning to get dark. I flipped on the boat's lights, including a large spotlight I could control from the helm. The multiple beams of light pierced through the thickness of the dark with ease, but I couldn't see so much as a shred of a clue that could guide me to Boat 3. It had to be somewhere else.

I clutched at the now sweat-drenched handset and tried again, doing my best to mask the shakiness in every fiber of my body.

"Boat 3, what is your location."

Then, crackling through the receiver came a woman's voice, "hello?"

"Hello? Yes, hello! I'm here! Boat 3 what is your location?!" I yelled into the handset.

"I don't know, the driver left us; the engine stopped and he got out and said he was going to find help. Oh thank God you picked up, the driver kept trying to get a hold of someone earlier and no one would answer! I thought I would just try again. Oh please say you're on your way!"

"Ma'am, could you describe your location to me? Anything around you that I could use as a landmark?"

"We're in front of an old building. Oh, please hurry; we're all getting so cold and it's so dark already."

"An old building? Are you talking about the mill?"

"Yes! That's it! The driver said there was a road that led back to the house, and he would go get help."

My blood ran cold, a painful lump formed in my throat. I stood silent, almost running the boat into a cypress sticking out of the water.

"Hello? Are you still there? Oh please say you'll help us," the woman's voice begged.

"Uh, yeah—yes – yes Ma'am, be right there," I replied.

I sucked in a big breath of the hot night air. I began to talk to myself.

Just get them in here and get on your way. Nothing to it, just get them in and get out.

The mill was getting closer now. As I wiped sweat from my brow, it dawned on me: the woman on the radio said that they were cold. Cold? This was June in Louisiana; nothing cold about tonight. In fact, it hadn't cooled at all from the day. The air was still sticky and thick with heat an humidity. I decided to radio again.