Hot, Hard & Howling - OpenDrive

Hot, Hard & Howling
“What?” Crey looked at Trent. “Did she really say that?”
Trent’s head lifted slightly. He looked as if he was heavily drugged. “Sounds right.”
He was alive. Nell backed father into the woods. “I’ll be right back.”
The gun in Crey’s hand wildly gestured toward Nell before she lost sight of him by
tucking behind the large cypress again. “Is she serious?” he yelled. “Did she just take a
potty break during a hostage negotiation?”
Nell didn’t hear if Trent responded. She leaned against the tree, her mind racing for
a plan. She’d seen what she’d needed to see. Treat was alive but out of commission.
Crey had a gun. She had a machete. The odds were not in her favor.
Two small alligators moved away from the shore to her left, heading to the water.
Marshmallows…
Nell headed back to the boat, cringing each time she had to take a step. It was pitch
black in the shadows of the cypress trees. Their huge roots stuck up out of the ground
like the humps of sea monsters, slick and wet with the moisture of the swamp. Moss
and bugs coated the branches she used for handholds as she steadied her balance,
making her way to the boat as quietly as possible. Fortunately the creep holding Trent
was too busy harping on and on about women to really notice her movement.
Nell got the bag of marshmallows and went back to the spot where the gators had
slipped into the dark water. She tossed several in what she hoped was their general
direction. One gator must have seen the movement as the treat landed because he went
after it fast, gobbling it up. He opened his mouth and hissed at her as if to beg for more.
She tossed a few on the shore and then one even farther, into the trees. The second
gator raced to get it before the first. They clashed, hissing and knocking each other with
their long snouts.
“Easy boys. I need you.” She gathered the machete, the backpack and her energy.
She only had one shot at this. She led the gators to the edge of the woods with a trail of
marshmallows.
Nell stuffed a handful in her bra. Then she tossed the rest of the white, fluffy gator
crack in the open area between the woods and the door of the hut. They only needed to
get about six feet closer to the door. The gators rushed out of the woods in pursuit of
the treats, hissing and charging toward the hut.
“Fucking bitch. Can the Halfling talk to animals?” He took a step back and aimed
the gun at one of the gators.
Nell closed her eyes and pushed out with every bit of energy she could muster.
Gators went flying. One sailed past Crey, crashing into the wall behind him. The
other smacked directly into his chest.
The gators were hissing in threat, Crey was cussing and Trent was laughing
uncontrollably. Crey had dropped the gun to fend off the flying gator, allowing it to
skitter over by the table.
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