The Water Witcher (Completed)

Chapter 10 - A Dark Night

      The three men sat in the jeep, hidden by trees, with the neighbor's home sitting a few yards away in a sea of mist. The man was an alcoholic whose wife left him after growing tired of picking him up from the drunk tank several nights a month. Most people said he had it coming, and some saw him as a public nuisance, while others felt bad for him.

"I told Clara not to help Gregory, but she always sees the good in people," Gunner said with a click of the slide on his gun. "But at least he won't be a problem after tonight."

Just then, a set of headlights lit up the weathered facade of the old house as a truck snaked up the driveway. The tires crunched over the gravel before coming to a halt, followed by the ticking of the engine as the driver's side door opened with a squeak. A tall man dressed in faded overalls with twig legs and an oversized pot-belly slid out, grunting.

"A'right, Gregory, wait for me to come around. I've got ya."

"Why duzzint Annabeth want to come home to me, Carl? We was s'good together," he slurred.

"A'right buddy, we'll get you inside and get you to bed!" the man said, rounding the front of the truck.

"I don't want to, Carl!"

"Well, you gotta," he said, opening the passenger door.

A loud cry bounced off of the trees as Gregory's mouth fell open, "Why don't Annabeth wanna be with me no more? We was s'good together."

"Well, Greg, maybe you wasn't as good together as you thought," Carl huffed, hoisting him up by the shoulder.

"Whatchu mean?"

"I mean," Carl grunted and took a few steps towards the house. "I mean, you is a drunk, and you need to stop being such a blabbermouth. Hell, when Annabeth's mother died, you went and got yourself good and hammered at the funeral. Then right after hooking up with her cousin at the reception, you told everybody how happy you was the poor woman keeled over! And let's not forget about tonight."

"What about tonight?"

"Telling everybody in the bar you've got the hots for Clara!"

"I did not!"

"Oh, yes, you did!" Carl huffed, stomping up the creaky porch steps. "Saying a bunch of nonsense about how you love watching her walk around in her tight jeans as she witches water on your property. What the hell's the matter with you?"

"I'm no dummy!" Gregory shouted as Carl kicked the front door open. "But man, Clara sure do have a backside that makes me forget about my wife."

His drunk laughter faded as the door closed behind them, and Gunner snuck across the yard, before pressing against the side of the home—waiting to strike.

"We'll move when Carl leaves," he whispered to Archibald and Jasper, who crouched beside him. "He's a good man and doesn't need to be part of this. Once he's gone, I'll slip inside while you two stand watch. This should be easy. In and out."

"What about the Scout camp?" Jasper asked.

"My cousin Abraham tracked it down. We'll meet up with him after this so he can tell us the location."

The front door squeaked open, forcing them to go silent as Carl walked down the porch steps with a heavy sigh.

"Damn fool," he muttered, and hopper into his vehicle.

As soon as he drove away, Gunner slipped inside the house with the old floorboards complaining under his feet. A lit table lamp with a missing a shade cast shadows over the stacks of moldy newspapers sitting around the perimeter of the living room. Cigarette smoke, body odor, and stale booze filled his nostrils as he passed from one room to the next. Unable to stand the stench, Gunner used his shirt's collar to cover his nose while crossing into the kitchen. A cat lapped at the dirty dishes piled high in the sink and hissed at him before going back to a plate with crusted pasta sauce.