Night had fallen and the survivors were still on the river. The waters around them had become sluggish and weed-ridden. The river had taken them to the backwaters of Rayford. The rushing river had become a stagnant swamp. The stench of rotting plants and rich soil had combined into the familiar odor of swampland. Frogs of all species called out in a chorus of calls as the crickets chirped their own tune. Mosquitoes buzzed relentlessly around the unfortunate survivors.
"Ugh," grunted Francis as he swatted at a particularly large one. He missed, and it landed on his other arm. He and Coach had to take a break from rowing. It was Nick and Ellis's turn. Meanwhile Zoey was sitting at the stern of the boat, making sure that no one was following them on the banks. Long ago the sandy shores that had been at the riverside had turned into thick cattails and twisted trees. As she watched the riverside she saw little bright red orbs peering out of the reeds.
"What are those?" she whispered to Ellis. Ellis squinted at the faraway lights.
"Gators," he answered, "They're eyes are shinin'. Must be the moonlight." Zoey looked back at the little orbs. They stared back; never blinking. She averted their gaze by looking down into the water. Immediately she saw an impossibly huge set of jaws grinning back at her. Dozens of sharp teeth lined the gigantic maw as it stretched open wide. Inside it was a pinkish-white, similar to the flesh of the rattlesnakes and glistened in the moonlight. The pale coloring caused the mouth to stand out in the inky darkness. Hot, putrid breath puffed out of the mouth. It remained still. Zoey could only blankly stare at it as it floated in front of her. She was frozen with pure terror, the kind of terror that is felt when a predator is moments away from killing you. Suddenly Ellis noticed her fixation on the water and looked for himself.
"JESUS CHRIST!" he screeched. The jaws suddenly slammed shut, sending a deafening snap through the muggy swamp night. Everyone in the boat looked to the stern to see an alligator floating behind them. This was no mere alligator. This was an enormous alligator, over twenty-five feet in length. The head alone was over six feet long. The armored hide was a dark green, but almost seemed black in the night. It was covered in a thick carpet of algae and moss. The beast peered at the survivors with eyes that glowed a vibrant green. It suddenly submerged its body, disappearing into the dark waters.
"What do we do?" cried Louis as he looked around wildly. He clutched his gun in shaking hands.
"Head for shore!" cried out Coach. Nick and Ellis started rowing with fear-induced strength. The boat suddenly jarred to a stop. Then it slowly lifted itself out of the water. Rochelle looked down to see the scaly back of the alligator beneath it.
"It's lifting us outta the water!" she cried as she tried to aim her gun at it. Everyone screamed in terror as the beast began to rock its body from side to side. A gunshot suddenly broke through the night air. The boat was suddenly on the surface of the water. Rochelle looked at the smoking barrel of her weapon. Then she felt the water seep into her shoes. She looked down in horror to se that she had blown a hole in the bottom of the boat. Blood lined the jagged edge of the puncture, indicating that the bullet had struck the beast. Everyone looked in wide-eyed horror as the hole continued to gush out water. Nick and Ellis began to row once more in a desperate attempt to reach shore before the boat sunk. Behind them a gigantic shape broke through the surface of the water. A monstrous bellow filled the air as the alligator turned to look at the woman who had injured it. With what only could be described as bloodlust in its eyes, the beast began to soar towards the rowboat, moving like a living torpedo. The survivors fired at it. Some of the bullets struck, but were unable to fully penetrate its thick, leathery hide. The massive jaws opened wide to reveal the horrible teeth within. The survivors were only seven feet away from shore. Zoey watched in horror as the alligator suddenly clamped its jaws onto the stern of the boat, only inches away from herself. The sound of crunching metal echoed in her ears. The mighty beast began to sweep its tail back and fourth.
"It's pulling us back!" cried Francis as he fired at the creature. The bullet streaked over the alligator's snout, but bounced off of the thick bone beneath its skin. The beast suddenly went into a death-roll, rotating its body wildly. The Survivors were thrown out of the boat and into the river.
Zoey could not recall ever feeling more terrified in her life than the moment she fell into the water. She was blind, and the noises she heard were distorted by the water surrounding her. As she bobbed to the surface the noises became the screams of her companions. Before she could make sense of anything she felt a hand grab her own. She looked up into the equally terrified Ellis as he dragged her toward shore. The two crawled wildly onto the bank, where Rochelle and Francis were pulling the others from the water. The alligator had just released the boat from its mouth and started moving toward the shore. The seven started running away from the beast as it snaked out of the water.
The beast let out a hiss as it followed. Its apparent bulk was deceptive, for it could move just as fast as they could. It followed them into the trees, slithering in-between the moss covered bark. Its claws dug up earth with each hurried step. It spotted the forms of its prey ahead. It possessed powerful night vision and saw them with much clarity. The creature roared angrily as it saw them getting farther and farther ahead of it. They were too fast for it to catch on land. But it could tell the land would soon become water. It had chased them into a swamp, the beast's home territory. In a short time the soggy soil would lead into a large systems of large lakes and ponds. It would have the advantage then.
The seven Survivors didn't stop running until they were out of breath. By that time they were well into the woods, which it turned out was actually a swamp. The thick muck oozed into their already soaked shoes.
"Now what?" Nick grunted, "We've got no supplies, no means of defending ourselves, and now we're in a swamp!"
"It could be worse," muttered Louis, "We could be in a gator's digestive tract." Pretty much everyone agreed with this statement. All the same, it felt odd to be traveling without holding some sort of weapon. Frogs leapt out of the way as they continued to trek through the boggy woods.
"Anyone know where we are?" asked Ellis.
"Somewhere south of Rayford," Answered Rochelle, "Probably near Atlanta."
"Think they're any Infected out here?" said Zoey. Nick shrugged.
"They wander all over the damn place, so probably," he said. After that there was a long silence as they walked through the woods. The deeper they went in the worse it became. Pools of water were dotted in-between the mossy trees. The surface of the murky water was covered with algae, and some sort of greenish slime. Thick, sharp, saw-toothed blades of grass that came up to a man's waist sprouted out of the ground. Someone occasionally tripped over a hummock or an exposed root and landed in the warm muck. Conditions continued to worsen. With every step they sunk into knee-deep mud. Thorns and sharp grass tore at their clothing and skin. Mosquitoes circled in thick clusters around them.
"Okay," Nick muttered, "This suit is officially ruined."
Renard had returned to his home in the swamps. Outside, the blank faces of the infected surrounded his simple hutch. He waited for the arrival of the survivors. His instructions to his friend had been clear, and he knew that he would fulfill them. Renard sat at a flimsy table, tuning into what the swamp had to tell him. He could feel its every movement; every sway of a branch, every hop of a frog, every death of an insect as it was caught in a spider's web. Then he felt something different. Something that violated the natural flow of the swamp. The clumsy footfalls of what could only be a lost group of humans. Renard chuckled in triumph. His friend had succeeded. Now he could begin with the second phase of his plan. He stood up from his table and picked up his cane. He opened the door and sorted through the crowd until he found the one he desired.
"Coon-dog," he called. The hooded menace looked up and made his way over to his master. "Go in that direction," continued Renard as he pointed his cane to the north, "You'll find the survivors. I want you to bring back the girl in the red shirt. Do you understand?" The hunter looked at his master nervously. In the green glow of his eyes Renard could see uncertainty. The Bokor knew why. The swamp was unfamiliar territory to the hunter. He probably wouldn't be able to track as well. Renard knew exactly how to remedy this. Reaching into his bag the Bokor retrieved a peculiar tooth. It resembled the curved tooth of a canine, but much larger. In one swift motion Renard stabbed it into the hunter's arm. He cried out in alarm and pain, but he soon grew quiet. Then he erupted in a flurry of pain. He howled miserably as his body began to twist and distort itself. Muscles shifted, bones realigned, and rusty orange fur began to sprout from his grayed skin. The teeth grew sharp as the jaws stretched out. The ears became pointed. The changed creature let out a series of sharp yelps and screams. Renard grinned at his work. He pointed his cane once more. The creature bounded off into the uninviting swamp.
Coach had barely spoken since they'd entered the swamp. He refused to give in to the terror that lurked in his mind. It was trying to free itself and act out. Coach wanted to run out of the bog; to get as far away as possible from it. But he couldn't. He was with his friends, and they had decided to go through the swamp. He found some comfort in the fact that he wasn't alone. Maybe they would survive this ordeal. His train of thought was broken when a piercing, bloodcurdling cry echoed throughout the area. The survivors stumbled as they heard it.
"Relax," said Ellis, "Just a fox. I heard 'em all the time back when I was a kid. You know this one time Keith had to get rabies shots 'cause a fox bit him-" The cry sounded off again. It was closer this time. Before anyone could move a gangly creature burst from the bushes nearby. It was wearing a hooded sweatshirt.
"Hunt-" began Louis. But in the brief moment that it stood still they could see that it was not a hunter. Although it wore human clothes, the shape was different. It seemed bent over and crooked. The hands bore long sharp claws, and were covered in rust-colored fur. The legs seemed to be that of a canine's. Its green eyes glowed in the darkness of its hood. In an instant the creature sprung into action. It jumped on Francis, knocking him into a tree trunk. Rochelle swung a branch at the creature, but it merely caught it and snapped it in half. It then used the broken stick to hit her across the head. As Rochelle put her hand over where it had struck her, the creature threw the branch at Zoey. It struck her head on, and Zoey fell over. Coach plowed into it in an attempt to knock it down. The creature staggered slightly, but remained standing. In a flash it raked its claws across Coach's arm. Ellis, Louis, and Nick grabbed its shoulders. The four of them struggled for a moment, but the screeching creature was squirming out of their grasp. Nick made a grab for the hood and pulled it down. Immediately a muzzle full of sharp, yellowed teeth snapped at him. Everyone cried out in surprise at the bizarre fox-like face of the monster. Coach froze in his tracks. In the confusion the creature broke free of their grasp. It pounced on Zoey and threw the girl over its shoulders. Before anyone could do anything about it, it bounded off back in the direction from which it had come. Ellis let out a cry of rage and frustration, and took off after it.
"Ellis!" called out Rochelle. But he didn't look back. His eyes were locked on the mangy creature even as it started disappearing from view. Eventually he lost sight of it all together. Angry at the world and at himself, he fell to his knees, partially out of exhaustion, partially out of despair.
Zoey awoke, and was able to see nothing but darkness. At first she feared she had gone blind. But then two green eyes opened up only inches from her face. The pungent odors of rotting flesh and stale cigar smoke wafted into her nostrils. The same voice she had heard at the furniture store sounded off.
"So I heard you like Zombies," it said, "If that's the case, you're gonna love me." Zoey had been through unimaginable horror during the past few months, but nothing compared to the terror she felt at that moment.
"What are you?" she whispered. The voice laughed bitterly.
"Once I was like you," replied the voice, "A simple human being. But I'm much more than that now. Hold on a minute." Zoey suddenly saw a flash as a match was struck. For a split second it lit up the room, and she was able to see her captor. He was tall and skeletal, and was wearing what had once been an elegant black suit. Now it was tattered and torn. What little flesh that still clung to his skull was greenish-brown and had a leathery texture. He had no nose, only a ragged triangle. Inside of it Zoey could see the green shine of mucus. His lips had long ago been eaten away; his yellowed teeth were exposed in a permanent grin. Perched upon his head was a tall, weathered top hat. In his left hand he clutched a crooked cane, in his right he held a cigar. After he lit it he blew the match out, and once again they were in darkness. The only light came from the glowing eyes and the smoldering tip of the cigar.
"What do you want?" whispered Zoey.
"What every man wants," replied the voice, "Sex, money, alcohol, and power." Zoey felt the being exhale in her face. The already unpleasant cigar smoke was combined with the horrid stench of his breath. She could smell the decomposing organs inside of him, as well as the festering blood that had congealed in his veins.
"No need to be fearful," said the voice, "I couldn't hurt a pretty thing like you. Besides, it's been a while since I've had any company."