The Payback

The swamp buggy was at home in this foreign place. Frank leaned over the side of the strange vehicle. He stared down at the massive tires as they churned through the swamp crushing small branches and scattering birds, snakes and gators. Carl was at the wheel. He was a good old swamp boy cliche. Unkempt blond hair flew up in the breeze. His tanned hide fit well here. Half creature and half human he deftly guided the buggy through mangrove forests, tunnels of swamp trees and scattered fields of grasslands opening up before us.

Frank held the brown leather briefcase firmly to his chest with arms crossed. There was no way he would allow it to fly off into the swamp due to some sudden jolt.  There was never a moment  without a bump, sudden drop or slight hesitation as the vehicle charged through the swamp. He longed for the peace of a simple dirt road. He wondered how Carl could live in this place. Frank’s collared sport shirt and gold watch screamed he belonged in another world.  He just wanted to get this over with.

A flock of vultures circled over them. Frank shouted to Carl, “I don’t like those things” pointing upward. “They are looking for the dead”. Carl laughed heartily- “Circle of life- they pick up the garbage”. It seemed like forever. Frank checked his watch. They were driving for two hours by now. “Are we almost there?” Carl just nodded.

A shiver slid down his spine as Frank glanced to his left to see about 6 gators sitting on a bank nearby. They glanced up with only a slight interest in our passage. As the buggy chugged along they slid into the water and swam slowly towards the buggy. In a minute the gators were out of sight and Carl announced “Over there. We’re here”.

The shack was also a cliche. The small structure looked like it was about to fall over and die. The roof sagged. The windows were covered in dirt and vines. The window facing them displayed a crack diagonally across it.  

Carl pushed the creaking door open and stepped aside to invite Frank to enter. He hated to have Carl behind him but he had no choice. This had to be done. Over in the corner tied tightly with ropes and gagged with duct tape, Cathy screamed some muffled sounds. Her bookbag was beside her. She still had her varsity soccer shirt on. She was alive. 

The tearful reunion took only a couple of minutes while Carl counted the money. With the briefcase under his seat Carl pulled away from this prison while Frank embraced his daughter in the swamp buggy. She was limp in this embrace with one hand reaching into her book bag. As Frank turned her head to kiss her on the lips his face suddenly displayed a shock. Eyes widened, mouth opened- he gasped. The blade entered just below the rib cage. It was thrust upward and turned. Cathy had planned well. She was no longer his victim. He had this one last chance and his action just now showed he would not change. The abuse was over. 

Carl looked back after the gasp and grinned. He informed Cathy that everything will work out as they had planned.  The buggy slowed as they approached the gators. Dinnertime.  Frank’s body was dragged under in a thrashing feast.  Cathy would reveal she had been hooded and only escaped when the kidnapper left briefly. Carl was well paid and on his way to opening up an airboat franchise. Only the gators know the whole story. There are many secrets hidden in the Florida swamps.