At nearly the same time both back tires of the vehicle were blown out by buckshot, fishtailing the truck wildly. It slammed full-tilt into a wide tree. Travis squeaked but was unhurt as Otis opened his eyes and peered through the smoke issuing from the ruined engine. "Dammit, move," he ordered, the frightened boy jumping right out the busted window. Pulling the handgun he'd appropriated he proceeded plugging the approaching enemies but they had him far outgunned--they needed to get some cover.
They were almost upon them, rifles and shotguns trained on the two males when a screaming, inhumanly fast figure tore out of the brush and attacked them from the side, screaming. She soon had a shotgun from the hands of one of the circus employees and pulled the trigger point-blank. Shot and scarlet sprayed forth in a wide arc, cutting down most of them near her.
"Fuckin'-A, Lily," crowed Otis as he ran to the few remaining thugs.
Grasping the blade given to him by Otis Travis ran toward a man, darting under the blow swung at him and sticking the man's stomach with it. It slid in surprisingly easily with a chuk causing the fellow to drop his weapon and scrabbling, trying to pull the knife out. Warm stickiness was suddenly on the boys hand and he glanced down to see the man's blood pouring out of the wound. Then Travis was clocked in the side of the head. Yelling, he yanked the knife out and stabbed the guy again with it. And again.
When the fog in his eyes cleared Travis beheld myriad bodies splayed across a couple dozen yards distance, all dead. Otis grabbed him, squeezing and asking if he was all right. "Yeah...I'm fine," he said, a bit dazed. Then he clung to his uncle's lean frame, feeling strangely safe and secure of a sudden. Then he noticed the casually dressed stranger standing with Lily breathing heavily. It was the Alligator Girl!
Otis was whispering to her softly and stroking her lustrous hair. "You sure," he questioned her earnestly. "You have a welcome place with us, Linda."
"Naw, I'll be fine," she told him. "I've known about their shit for a while now. Tony can fuck the hell off. I have family in Arizona I can go to. But thanks," she kissed him warmly.
Linda was unarmed and while Travis stepped over the corpses he saw how she'd helped; many had been bitten and clawed viciously and crimson stained her hands and arms. He wanted to be assured and assertive like that, instead he was always afraid and unsure. As if reading his thoughts (which, due to his altered state he probably did) Otis laid his flesh hand on the boy's shoulder and said, "Yer first kill, little man. Baby'll be proud o' you, and I am too."
The Alligator Girl watched the family depart in one of the circus vehicles, dust kicking up after the moving shape as it receded into the distance. Sighing, she picks the dead bodies clean of their valuables and takes another car and departs as well.
Travis fell asleep leaning against his uncle's arm as they began the trek back. Lily was uncharacteristically quiet and pensive. Probably still miffed about the scolding Otis had administered about her sneaking off to go with them. She retorted that she'd helped saved their lives to which Otis had no answer.
He just wanted to be an asshole. It was something he was good at.
RJ was working on one of Baby's junked cars when he saw an unfamiliar automobile pull up into the driveway. Ever suspicious he hid until he saw Otis, Travis and Lilith exit. "Baby," Rufus called. "Rita! They're back!"
Baby came running outside barefoot and swept her children into her matronly embrace, kissing and cooing. "I knew something was wrong, I just knew it! Otis and his 'power' an' all that...oh my doll-babies," she kissed and squeezed them some more. Then she turned to her half-brother, aggarvated and relieved and adoring all at once. She leapt into his arms and squeezed him as well, acutely aware of his thinness, his sharp bones digging into her own frame slightly softened with age and motherhood. There was mud and bloodstains on them she could see.
"Next time, YOU take em to the circus, Angel," Otis declares.
Summer of 1976, Ruggsville
Baby burst into the musty bedroom, bubbling over with excitement. "Stacy, Stacy wake up! Me an' Mama finished the costumes. Come on let's try em out," she tugged on the large redheaded woman who was snuggled up to Otis. Both were naked under the sheets from collapsing exhausted after a couple bouts of lovemaking that night but the blonde was oblivious in her attempt at rousing Stacy.
"What, now," groaned the woman with the gold-flecked eyes and freckles and smacking her lips.
Otis rolled over and growled low in his throat. "Jesus H. Christ, Baby, you forget how ta knock?"
"I knew you wouldn't answer anyway, ya cock. Come on," she pulled Stacy out of bed and thrusted a threadbare robe into her hands. "We can put on our talent show and use it to dress up for Halloween," she babbled as the sleepyheaded woman followed her to Mother's craft room. Otis pulled on a pair of stained camouflage army pants and went in search of something to wet his whistle.
Man, that woman really wore him out, heh heh. Passing by one of the family's uninhabited rooms he went in and kicked a male captive chained to the radiator for a giggle. "Hey puss-boy," he taunted the beaten, bleeding and ragged man. "The girls might be puttin on a show. If yer good you might get ta watch."
The dresses were done, carefully put together and measured for a perfect fit--sequined skintight dresses like something out of Old Hollywood. Mother Firefly was there gazing over the finished dresses, satisfied. "Sleepin late, are we dear," she croons when she spots Stacy. "Otis tuckered you out, I guess," she chortles. "This'll look so good on you," she goes on. "You have such a full, womanly shape, but yer strong and graceful, too. Baby'll have to teach ya to sing and dance, now!"
Hoo boy, thought Stacy.
My Angel Baby's so talented," she burbles indulgently over her daughter who smiles, swelling with the praise. "You girls could go over to the Frontier Fun Town and try out some moves and costumes on the guys hahaha."
Stacy wanted nothing to do with that and steered Mama's attention back to the costumes.
"Hey lookit this," came Otis' voice as he strutted into the room. He was wearing a button up flowered women's blouse and one of Mother's feather boas. "Damn, I feel sexy. Hey," he said as he looked in the standup mirror. "I look like Robert Plant's corpse! Yeehaw!"
Stacy and Baby fell over one another in laughter, then Stacy remembered the poor girl who he'd gotten the shirt from. She had to shut out the sound of him fucking the dead girl's corpse after he was done with her.
The girls performed before their captive audience, Grampa whooping and hollering at the right moments. The bound and gagged man could only wiggle and moan, tears falling down his cheeks when he thought about what was to become of him...probably the same fate as his now deceased friends. Otis had shown him his girlfriend whom he'd tried his hand at mummifying...it would be a couple more weeks in the salt before it would be a proper mummy, but still...it was grotesque. Otis had such fun pulling the girl's brains through her broken nose and stuffing her body cavity with the herbs and salt, he might try making another one.
Stacy wasn't much of a song-and-dance type even though she enjoyed shows and music and missed most of the cues but thankfully Baby was too happy to be annoyed with her, belting out a stirring rendition of Sinatra's "New York" with gusto.
"...I'm leavin' today...Time to make a brand new start of it, New York, New Yoooork.."
"Ain't they summin," commented Otis, for once sitting in on the entertainment. He was beside the clan matriarch still wearing the woman's blouse and a ladies' straw sunhat, besides.
"Yeah," sighed Mother, fluttering her heavily made-up eyes. "Baby needed another girl around, and that un ain't like all the others. Hopefully 'fore New Year's there'll be a lil bundle o' joy to take care of."
Pulling the hat off and shogging up his long, thin hair he rolled his eyes skyward. "God you gotta one track mind."
"Well don'tya think it's bout time for another generation," she demanded in earnest. "Poor Grampa'll soon be gone, and I won't be around forever."