Country Clubbing (The Haunt of Fear #23, January/February 1954)

Far off, the swamps echoed with the blood-curdling yelps of bloodhounds. For on this dark night, the chain gang was searching for one escaped convict.

CONVICT: "Gotta stop...rest...eat...hungry! Hungry!"

As if in answer to his wild, breathless babbling, a light breaks through the darkness.

CONVICT: "A shack! They'll have food! I'll kill 'em! Kill 'em dead! Stupid rotten people oughta be dead fer just livin' in this smelly hog slop! This here cypress stick'll make me a good club! Beat their brains out! Beat 'em out dead!"

"Woman! Gimme that there food! I'm hungry!"

The convict quivered and convulsed with the excitement of food at last! Food all for him and no one else! Him alone!

Alone?

It stood huge and ugly. It was a man. The dead woman's man. His face would scare the wits out of any striped skunk. And it did.

CONVICT: "Oh nooooo! Git away! Don't touch me! I-I didn't mean to hit her! I wuz hungry! Honest! OWWWWWWWW! HEEEEELLLLPPPP! It's th' devil himself! I ain't ready fer ya yet! Ya gotta ketch me! Lemme outa here!"

Back out into the darkness and the swamps, he ran. Even the hounds would be better for him than this ghoulish-looking monster.

CONVICT: "Heh! Heh! I can out-leg him, the stumbling idiot!"

Yet he still followed...with the club!

His wild running brought him back onto the path of the baying bloodhounds. Their throats sore and eager for a swallow of flesh.

CONVICT: "My legs! Can't move 'em! I'm exhausted! No, no! It's QUICKSAND! Gotta pull up! I'll pull up this tree. Climb it so the dogs cain't git me!"

"At last! No muddy earth nor dawg kin eat me! AAEEE! It's a rat! It's got me! Help! It's a filthy possum! I'll fling ya to the dawgs! While they eatcha, I'm skedadlin'!"

Yet he still followed...with the club!

CONVICT: "If thet crazy critter thinks he's gonna ketch me, he better get a boat, 'cause I'm travlin' on water from here on out!"

The convict waded into the black swamp water after a floating log that would carry him to freedom.

CONVICT: "Can't see too well! This log'll do. A 'GAAAAATTTOOOOORRRRR!"

With crazed strength, the convict grabbed a dangling vine and climbed to safety.

CONVICT: "'Gator bait, I ain't gonna be!"

Yet he still followed...with the club!

As he untangled himself from the vines that twisted around his arms and legs, one vine began to slowly move.

CONVICT: "Oh good lord! A snake!"

True! It was a snake. A long, brown and yellow cottonmouth snake. And it sank it's teeth into the convict, ejecting it's stored up venom.

CONVICT: "You did it! You bit me! You !?*#$! I'll teach ya!"

In his fit of fear and anger, he beat the reptile to death.

CONVICT: "I'll kill ya! Kill ya! Kill ya!"

Suddenly, the swamp answered back to him with a wild hum of gnats and mosquitoes. Followed by pursuing bats, flapping and frightening the convict deeper into the swamp. He ran wild. Fear, now, had control of his criminal brain. Only instinct kept him fighting to escape the murdered woman's man.

Yet he still followed...with the CLUB!

The Okefenokee had now sapped all of his energy. He couldn't go on. This was it.

CONVICT: "He's gonna git me. Git me like I got his wife! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt her! Let me live! I don't wanna die! Don't use th' club! Stay away! Keep away! Don't kill me! It'll be murder! You'll be a murderer! HELP! PLEASE HEEELP!"

MAN: "Uh, here's ya club, mistuh. Ya fergot an' left it way back at muh house."

CONVICT: "I...heh, heh...I forgot my...heh, heh...club. Isn't that...heh, heh...funny? I...heh, heh...FORGOT my...heh, heh...ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"