A Gathering of Old Men Alternate Ending
By Monica Stephenson
Starting halfway through Chapter 16: Coot
barbed-wire fence next to Rufe's old house, we laid down and kept quiet. I could hear Clatoo breathing hard, and I was just as tired. I looked over at him, barely able to see in the dark. I could see the outline of his head, close to the ground. Then suddenly there was an axe sticking out of the outline of his head, one of them Cajuns gloating over Clatoo's newly dead body. Without thinking, I aimed my shotgun at the Cajun and blew five holes through his chest. He crumpled to the ground, his last laugh spread across his face.
I turned to face the yard. It was war now. Bullets flew through the air. People were falling on either side. The Cajuns were closer than we thought. I heard more screams comin' from the house. Turning, I saw Corrine hanging out the window, shot dead. Then Candy ran out the house, holding up her arms.
"Stop!" she yelled. "Stop shooting!" The gunfire stopped. Everyone looked at her, guns ready to keep firing after she moved.
"We have to stop this!" she shouted. "Too many of my people are dying. If we stop—" The sound of gunfire stopped her. She fell back, blood gushing out of the bullet wound in her head.
"NO!" Lou came running out of Mathu's house. He fell to the ground by Candy's body. He caressed her head and closed her empty eyes. He stood, gun in his hand and fire in his eyes. Letting loose a battle cry, he charged the Cajuns. Me and everyone else held up our guns and charged with him, our cries almost drowning out the gunfire. Mat and Jacob Aguilard fell next to me, bullets to the head and chest.
Suddenly, I was on the ground, a searing pain in my shoulder. "Lord Jesus have mercy on me!" I cried. My voice was lost in all the fighting.
Then Johnny Paul leaned over me. We was a few feet from the fighting, so he had room to lean down and whisper in my ear, "You don't see, Coot. You don't see what I really am. You never did." My mouth opened with horror as Johnny Paul's eyes turned solid black and he held up a knife. "Johnny Paul…" I moaned, trying to beg for my life.
"I AM NOT JOHNNY PAUL," he hissed, the knife piercing my chest multiple times. He didn't stop until, choking on the blood spilling out of my mouth, my world went as black as his eyes.
Chapter 17: Dirty Red
I stood next to Bing and Ding. We was aiming our guns all sorts of places, but the Cajuns had backed up and hid again, firing from their hiding places. Me and Bing and Ding weren't shooting anywhere particular; we couldn't find good places to shoot at. I looked around, at the people finally taking a stand. That's when I saw the three kids hiding behind a tree, looking at the battle.
"Hey!" I yelled at them. "Ya'll get inside! Where's your Gram Mon?"
Snookum smiled and walked toward me. "Gram Mon's dead," he said. "She been dead for a while now." He stalked past me and, gaining speed, jumped on Bing. Bing screamed and tried to get Snookum off, but once Minnie and Toddy were on him, he had no chance. I cried out in shock when the children opened their mouths and fangs emerged. Me and Ding looked on in horror as the children tore apart Bing, piece by piece. Without warning, they leaped off Bing and onto Ding, tearing him apart the same way.
Desperate, I hid in the weeds. I didn't want to die, especially not like that, my blood seeping into the ground. I watched the children devour Ding's flesh when I saw someone approaching them. It was Chimley.
"What are ya'll doin'?" he ased, his face frozen in shock. Minnie had been carrying a fishing pole before she attacked Bing. She picked it up now as Snookum and Toddy tackled Chimley with superhuman strength. Snookum and Toddy pinned Chimley down as Minnie leaned over him, grinning, fishing pole held up in the air. With a demonic laugh, she shoved the fishing pole down the old man's throat. He struggled, making horrible choking sounds, eyes rolling to the back of his head—
Then he was still.
I held back a scream of horror. How could this be happening? I knew these kids, they couldn't—they couldn't be—vampires.
All three simultaneously turned their heads to the weeds, exactly where I was hiding. Their hungry eyes gleamed in the darkness. They knew I was here. I stood and turned my back to them, hoping I could escape.
I felt a sudden weight on my back, throwing me to the ground. I felt hands grab my face and jerk it around, the bones in my neck snapping. The very last thing I saw was Snookum, his vampiric teeth covered in blood.
Chapter 18: Clabber Hornsby
My friends lay dead around me—Yank, Gable, Cherry, Rooster. They were good men. They had died well. But they shouldn't have gone like this, man killing man. Or so I thought. That was before I realized what we was fighting wasn't men.
They was monsters.
I saw Luke Will run across the yard toward Cedrick, faster than I ever saw any human run before. He jumped onto Cedrick and held up his hand, ready to attack. Luke Will started to change. In the dim light, I could see his teeth grow larger and sharper. His fingernails grew until they were at least five inches long. Cedrick was panicking and trying to squirm his way free, but Luke Will snarled and plunged his claws into the old man's chest. I suppressed a scream as Luke Will ripped out Cedrick's heart and dug his teeth into it.
"GET BACK, LUKE WILL!" yelled a voice. It was Jean Pierre. He aimed his shotgun at the Cajun and fired.
The bullet pierced Luke Will's chest, and he stumbled back a few steps, but he didn't fall. Instead, he laughed. "Your bullets won't work on me, old man." Three other Cajuns appeared behind him. "Boys—feed." One of them went after Jean, the other two after the reverend, who was cowering behind a tree. While one Cajun tore apart Jean, the reverend begged for his life. Tears poured down his face. "Please," he sobbed. "Please don't hurt me!"
One of the Cajuns—Alcee—lifted Reverend Jameson by the collar. "Better start prayin/ now, preacher," he growled. The boy next to him, Leroy, didn't hesitate before ripping out the poor reverend's heart.
My own heart was pounding awful loud. I was sure they would turn and train their animal-like eyes on me. But they didn't have the chance. Lou and Rufe stepped out of nowhere.
"We won't let you escape," said Lou. "After what you did to Candy, to all the old men, you're not getting to that town." He held his shotgun up, aimed at Luke Will's chest. "For Candy!" he yelled, pressing the trigger.
The bullet didn't work. I knew it wouldn't. I think Lou did too, but that wouldn't stop him from trying. He kept shooting Luke Will until a hand holding a knife reached out from behind Lou and slit his throat.
Rufe, a few feet behind Lou, screamed and started shooting blindly. He couldn't see what he was aiming for, and neither could I. Without warning, the knife flew through the air and met Rufe's head with a thump. He fell back, and the knife's owner stepped up to retrieve his weapon.
It was Johnny Paul.
"See, boys," he said, pulling his blade out of the dead man's forehead. "That's how you take care of them."
"Any more left?" Leroy scanned the yard. I crouched down, praying he wouldn't see me.
Leroy started walking toward me. I held my breath, praying harder than I ever prayed in my life. At that moment, Leroy's head snapped around. He heard rustling in the weeds on the other side of the house. He walked toward the sound, then pulled apart the weeds. It was Uncle Billy, feasting on the flesh of one of the fallen. Uncle Billy, face covered in blood, turned his mad, hungry eyes toward Leroy. Before he could attack, Leroy's hand shot out into Uncle Billy's chest and ripped out his heart, like he had done to many of my old friends.
"Clabber," a voice from behind me whispered. I turned, expecting the worst.
It was Mathu.
"Mathu," I whispered back. "I thought you was dead."
"Well I ain't," he said, "so follow me." He started crawling to the back of the house. Cautiously, I followed. When we got to the back, Mathu stood and slowly opened the back door. Charlie and Deputy Griffin was sitting on the floor, hiding from the battle like cowards. Only now there wasn't no battle. There was just us.
Mathu walked over to Griffin and lifted him up by his collar. Without saying a word, he walked to the front door and paused. "Clabber," he hissed. "Get over here. Charlie too."
Frightened, me and Charlie obeyed. Mathu threw open the door and yelled, "A sacrifice! I will give you the deputy and the albino if you let me and Charlie leave!" He was a coward. After all this, Mathu was still a coward.
A deep laugh echoed through the silent yard. I looked around, trying to find the source. It wasn't Luke Will, or Sharp, or Alcee, or Leroy. The laugh continued as a figure stepped out of the darkness behind the Cajuns.
It was Beau Boutan.
Beau, back from the dead. The very Beau whose death caused all these events.
Charlie looked like he was going to be sick. "I shot you, Beau. I shot you."
Beau walked forward a few steps, until we could see his eyes. They was solid black, black as Johnny Paul's.
"You can't get rid of a demon that easily," Beau said, a wicked smile on his face. He was one of them, one of the immortals. We couldn't beat him. We were gonna lose, no matter what Mathu did.
We were all gonna die.
Leroy handed Beau a shotgun. Without hesitating, he shot Deputy Griffin straight in the neck. Giffin fell to the ground beside me, blood pouring out of his neck and staining my shoes.
"Who's next?" shouted Beau. All three of us on the porch were shaking. Even Mathu's eyes were wide with fear.
I looked at Beau. His eyes came in contact with mine. He flashed me a smile and raised his shotgun.
Chapter 19: Beau Boutan
Clabber's lifeless body fell down the porch stairs. I turned to the head werewolf. "Luke Will, bring Charlie over here. Kill the spare."
The old man shook as Luke Will approached the porch, his mask of bravery forsaken. Mathu closed his eyes before Luke Will tore his heart out of his chest. YUM! Discarding Mathu's heart, not bothering to wipe off the blood, Luke Will placed his hand on Charlie's shoulder and led him to me. I motioned for Luke Will to leave.
"Y'know, Charlie," I said, "you should really show more respect to your superiors. It isn't good to go 'round shooting them." Without warning, I shot him in the knee. He screamed and fell to the ground, his face distorted with pain.
"Never mess with a demon, boy," I growled, raising the butt of my shotgun and connecting it with his head. I kept hitting his head with the shotgun, his blood flying everywhere, until his head was flat.
"Come on, Luke Will," I said. "Our work here is done." I turned to the werewolf pack, but they were lying on the ground, their throats slit.
Dead.
Two men dressed in plaid stood over their bodies, one with a knife, one with a gun. The gun was pointed at me.
The shorter one in the leather jacket spoke. "My name is Dean Winchester. I'm from the future. That's where I got this." He motioned to the gun. "This is the colt. Heard of it?"
"That's not the colt," I said, laughing. "The colt isn't even real." It was just a myth. A gun that could kill anything? Impossible.
"Oh yeah?" Dean said. "Want to test that?" He spun around and faced the woods behind him, shooting into the darkness. I heard a crash as something heavy fell to the ground—a body.
"That was your demon friend," said the tall one with the long hair.
Dean grinned crookedly. "Sorry man," he said. "Colt's real."
He aimed the gun at me and pulled the trigger.
Chapter 20: Sam Winchester
Light shot out of the man's eyes as the demon inside him died.
Dean lowered the gun and looked at the bodies strewn across the yard. "Come on, man," he said. "Let's get out of here."
I heard rustling in the weeds to my right. I turned, but I saw nothing.
"Sam," Dean said. "Come on."
"Wait," I said. "I heard—" Suddenly, a kid shot out of the weeds, his sharp fangs flashing. "DEAN!" I yelled as I fell to the ground. A gunshot sounded and the vampire kid rolled off me. I quickly stood up, knife raised. I heard movement behind me. Turning, I saw another kid, this one a girl, ready to attack. Without hesitation, I grabbed her hair and cut off her head. I heard another gunshot behind me. Another kid lay dead in front of Dean. Breathing heavily, he looked around. "I think that's everything," he said.
"We need Cas," I said. "Where is he?"
"CAS!" Dean shouted. "Where is that SOB?"
"Behind you." We turned to see Castiel, the trench-coated angel who had brought us here from 2010.
"I had to destroy everyone in the town," Cas said. "They were all infected with the Croatoan virus. They would have gotten out and infected the world." He shook his head. "Alright. We're leaving." He reached up and touched our foreheads.
I opened my eyes. We were right where we were before Cas had showed up and said we needed to stop something.
And we had. We had saved the whole world. We had saved everyone—except the people in Louisiana.
What had started out as a small rebellion, a gathering of old men, had ended with the death of every person who ever had the courage to stand.