David Robbins - Miami Run

“Come on!” he goaded her. “I think I saw somethin’ over there a ways.”

“Poppa would blister our butts, and you know it, Leo.”

“Come on, Ernestine! Don’t be such a candy-ass!” Leo said. He placed the bundle of sugar cane he was carrying on the ground.

“What are you doing?” Ernestine demanded.

“What does it look like?” Leo retorted. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his right hand.

“We can’t just leave the cane here!” Ernestine protested.

“What’s gonna happen to it?” Leo asked.

Ernestine gazed to the west, frowning. “We’ll get in trouble for sure.”

“It won’t take but ten minutes,” Leo assured her. “We got to go see what it was.”

Never one to deny her brother for long, Ernestine deposited her bundle of cane beside his.

“All right!” Leo declared. “That’s more like it!”

“You lead,” Ernestine said. “And we’d best not run into anything!”

“Don’t worry,” Leo said. He patted the machete in its sheath on his right hip. “I can take care of us.”

“Big talk for a fourteen-year-old,” Ernestine remarked.

“Poppa says I’m a man now,” Leo said. “And don’t you forget it!”

“Men do their duties. They don’t go chasing noises and funny lights,” Ernestine mentioned. “Then you saw the lights too?” Leo asked. Ernestine nodded. “What do you think they was?”

“I don’t know,” Ernestine replied. “It looked like the sun was reflectin’ off of somethin’ shiny,” Leo guessed. He hastened to the west. “Slow down!” Ernestine complained. “You’re the one who’s worried about gettin’ our butts blistered,” Leo reminded her.

Ernestine walked faster, sticking to her brother’s heels, watching the sweat trickle from under his Afro. The scorching July heat caked her faded jeans and yellow blouse to her trim body. Leo’s jeans and brown shirt were stained with sweat marks. She glanced down at her grungy sneakers, at the holes exposing her toes, thankful for the ventilation.

“It can’t be more than a mile,” Leo said.

“I ain’t going no mile.”

“A mile’s not far.”

“The hell it ain’t,” Ernestine declared. “We’re in the bush, you idiot!”

Leo skirted a dense cluster of shoulder-high bushes. “So?”

“So there’s mutants in the bush,” Ernestine stated. “There ain’t many mutants in these parts,” Leo said.

“One is enough to waste your black butt,” Ernestine commented. “All you do is gripe.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Ernestine advised. They trekked westward, staying in the open areas where possible. Once they startled a marsh rabbit, distinguished by its short, broad ears. It took off from a clump of weeds in their path and zigzagged to the west, its small gray and brown tail bouncing with each leap. “There must be water hereabouts,” Leo remarked. Ernestine felt her skin crawl. She didn’t like the idea of being near water. Water meant a swamp or a marsh. Water meant a lot of wildlife. Water meant possible mutants. “Let’s go back,” she recommended.

“Not yet.”

“Come on! This is stupid!”

“Just a ways yet,” Leo insisted. They hiked for several hundred yards.

“This is stupid,” Ernestine reiterated, peeved. Leo didn’t reply. He angled to the left, heading up a low hill.

“What are you doing?” Ernestine asked impatiently.

“We’ll see good from this hill,” Leo said. They reached the crest of the hill and halted. To the west stretched a swampy tangle of lush vegetation.

“This is it!” Ernestine announced. “I ain’t going no farther!”

“We could go a little ways,” Leo urged.

“Not into no swamp!” Ernestine stated. “You know better.”

Leo sighed. “I guess you’re right.” He sauntered down the hill toward a wide pool of brackish water.

“What are you doing?” Ernestine questioned, following. “I said this is it!”

“Just to the edge of the water.”

“What difference does it make?” Ernestine snapped.

Leo disregarded her protest, walking to the bank bordering the pool.

“Leo! I want to go home! Now!” Ernestine stepped to his left.

“Hold your horses,” Leo responded. He knelt at the edge of the bank and dipped his left hand into the water. “Don’t drink that!” Ernestine warned. “How dumb do you think I am?” Leo asked. He cupped water in his left hand and splashed the cool liquid on his face.

Ernestine hesitated for a moment, then joined him. “This feels nice,” she commented, swirling her right arm in the pool. She imitated her brother, feeling a sense of relief as the water trickled down her cheeks, over her chin, and moistened her neck. Leo rose. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“Not so fast,” Ernestine said, reaching for another handful of water. As she did, her left foot slipped, throwing her off balance to the left.

The motion saved her life.

An alligator surged from under the water, its mouth opening wide, its broad, rounded snout tilted upwards, its teeth exposed. The gator’s jaws closed within an inch of Ernestine, who screeched and scrambled backwards.

Leo gripped her by the armpits and hauled her from the bank.

The alligator came after them, a huge specimen over 12 feet in length, its powerful, squat legs propelling it up and over the bank at a speed belying its bulk. The beast snapped at Ernestine’s feet, missing her heels by a hairs-breadth.

“Leo!” Ernestine squealed.

Leo jerked her upright, twisted, and shoved, sending her stumbling.

“Run!” he shouted. He took a stride.

Her eyes riveted on the gator, terrified to her core, Ernestine saw the massive reptile lunge forward. She screamed as its maw closed on her brother’s right leg with a sickening crunch.

Leo stiffened, his brown eyes bulging, and shrieked.

The alligator twisted its head, upending its victim.

“Leo!” Ernestine cried.

Her brother was flat on his back, his face contorted in severe agony, desperately striving to draw his machete.

Ernestine froze.

The gator began to move backwards, dragging Leo, intending to savor its meal in the pool. With slow, measured steps, it slid toward the water.

“Leo!” Ernestine yelled, her fear for his safety eclipsing her instinctive sense of self-preservation. She darted to the left, past Leo, and up to the gator’s head.

“Run!” Leo shouted, pulling the machete.

Ernestine kicked at the reptile’s protruding right eye, but missed. “Let go of him!” she wailed.

The alligator abruptly shifted position, bending its body in half, whipping its heavily armored tail in a tight arc while keeping its teeth imbedded in its prey’s leg.

Ernestine felt something slam into her left side, and then she was sailing through the air to crash onto her back on the hard ground. Dazed by the impact, she forced herself to roll over and faced the pool.

The lower third of the gator’s serrated tail was already in the water.

Leo swung the machete, landing a blow on the reptile’s snout.

The beast’s eyes blinked, but that was the only reaction as it continued to ease backwards into the water.

“Leo!” Ernestine shouted in dismay. The alligator would drag her brother under the surface! Leo would drown! She pushed to her knees.

Half the reptile’s tail was immersed.

“Leo!”

A loud pounding unexpectedly sounded to Ernestine’s rear. A hurtling figure flashed past her, a giant of a man in a black leather vest, green fatigue pants, and black boots. She gaped at the newcomer in astonishment as he launched himself in a flying dive onto the alligator!

Mesmerized, she saw the man swing his legs around as he landed on top of the reptile. His left arm looped under the alligator’s thick neck as his right arm swept aloft. Clutched in his right hand was a gleaming knife.