The Bayou Never Tells

Chelley St Clair

The Bayou Never Tells

Chelley St Clair

Copyright

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Cover: Jake Hartmann

Alligator illustration: Kate @katedecidedtodesign

First printing edition 2022.

Playlist

Listen to it here:

Down by the Water—The Decemberists

Bartholomew—The Silent Comedy

Bayou—Mountains of the Moon

Way Out There—Lord Huron

Nothing but the Water—Grace Potter and the Nocturnals

This Night—Black Lab

Bad Things—Rayland Baxter

Chains—Rose Cousins

Animals—Maroon 5

Devil’s Backbone—The Civil Wars

Ivy (Doomsday)—The Amity Affliction

Blackbird Song—Lee DeWyze

Don't Fear the Reaper—Keep Shelly in Athens

Smells Like Teen Spirit—Malia J

Girl With One Eye—Florence + The Machine

Survivor—2WEI, Edda Hayes

Twisted—MISSIO

Hell or High Water—The Rescues

Healed—Rag ‘n Bone Man

Fire—Barns Courtney

Apple Pie—Rafferty

Mine Forever—Lord Huron

Please be advised that this book is meant for ages 18+ only and contains explicit content and dark subjects.. If you have triggers, please read with caution.

Spoiler Alert. If you need to know specific triggers, you can find them at the following link, but be aware that the triggers themselves are spoilers:

TRIGGER WARNINGS

Also of note:

The hero of this book is from an unspecified, rural area of Louisiana, north of New Orleans, along the bayous surrounding the Pearl River. He is written with a light southern dialect and loose grammar. It's toned down to be palatable for reading, so please don't be nervous, but I feel strongly about the way it allows the reader to immerse themselves in his voice. This was a character choice, conveying his background and speech patterns, and is not meant to assume an inferior intellect of anyone who speaks similarly. Inhabitants of the Southern United States come in all types, this author included.

No stereotypes are intended.

My editor would likely appreciate the disclaimer that Silas’ grammar is intentional.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to anyone who has

lost their power to another person.

May you find your wings.

I believe in you.

Part I

Prologue

Silas Age 16

On my sixteenth birthday, I get a summons from the Devil.

There’s a torn-up card in the pocket of my only pair of pants. Seemed innocent enough, just a picture of some red birthday balloons. But it’s the message inside that sends a chill right down to my bones. I pull it out and drop the pieces over the rail, watching the fish pluck at them. Don’t matter, the words are etched into my mind like they’ve been carved there.

Time for the son to fill the boots of the father.

Those boots burned to ash yesterday. Daddy was still in them. That makes me an orphan now.

The deck creaks under my feet. I freeze in my tracks. “Si-las,” a voice sings from the other side of the cabin door. “I know you’re out there.”

I know that voice. It's haunted my nightmares half my life.

“Time’s up, kid,” he calls. A shiver goes through me. He ordered that fire. That’s what happens when you work for the devil, and he decides you’re a traitor.

I look back the way I came in, over the sunken boardwalk. Sweat tickles my neck. The eyeballs of dozens of gators peek through the carpet of duckweed, waiting to see what I’ll do.

The card didn’t have an address. Ain’t no such thing in the middle of nowhere. Only thing for miles is this flooded cypress forest, dotted here and there with a random houseboat or fishing shack. Still, I knew where to come. I was here when I was eight. Being forced to watch your Daddy kill a man tends to make an impression.

“I’m comin’. Sir.”

All things considered, it might seem strange that I’m standing on the deck of that same houseboat. But I was always told that once the devil calls ya by name, it’s best to walk straight up to the door to hell and face it.

If I run, I’ll end up like my daddy.

My arms feel like jelly, but I push the door open and there he is, waiting on the other side

“’Bout damn time, kid.” His lips curl into a smile that makes the gators look friendly.

Once I had a neighbor who was the Bible thumpin’ type, so I know there’s lots of names for the same guy: Satan, Lucifer, The Prince of Darkness...

‘Round these parts, everyone knows him by Cade Wilder.

The cabin door shuts behind me. First thing that hits me is the smell. Piss and shit; this place reeks of fear.

“Well, well, Silas Montgomery,” He looks me up and down. “Christ Almighty, boy, you look like you’re about to puke. I’m gonna start thinking that’s all you’re good for. Now get the fuck over here. I’ve been waiting.” He’s already crossed the room. I’m still standing where he left me by the door.

My feet are stuck to the ground.

“Come on kid, show some respect.” He taps the table next to him. “What’s the matter, your daddy didn’t knock you around enough?”

That ain’t it. My daddy knocked me around every time I looked at him sideways. “Ye... no. I don’t know. Sir.”

“Fuck’s sake. See if you can snap him out of it, Murph.”

The floorboards vibrate with heavy footsteps. My vision’s finally adjusting to the dim light, so I can see the enormous figure appear from the shadows. Darius Murphy. Built like the Hulk, he’s an enforcer for the Wilders. You don’t fuck with Murphy; he can pop a head like a grape. I brace myself, trying not to shake.

A bottle of water is shoved in my face. I stare for a second, then chug it in one gulp. It might be a trick, but the guy could break me in half. I’ll take my chances.

“Okay, kid?” His voice is so deep it don’t sound natural.

“That wasn’t exactly what I meant, but let's get on with it.” Cade taps his foot and Murphy disappears into the shadows. “You need a snack break and a nap too? Jesus. Ricky Montgomery might’ve been a fuckin’ traitor, but it’s hard to believe he raised a pussy.”

A memory crawls up from where I’ve got it squashed down, like a swamp creature from a bad movie:

Daddy kicks me in the stomach where I lay. “Get up you useless fuck. I ain’t raising no pussy.”

I’m kneeling in my own puke next to a pool of blood from the man whose throat he cut. He pulled me out of school for this. I thought maybe we was going out for my birthday, but I should’ve known better. He said it was time to learn what was expected of me as his son.

Now I know.

The devil just laughs. "Hope you were payin’ attention, boy, the day will come when it’s time for the son to fill the boots of the father.”

When I saw the message in the card, I knew that day had come.

Cade motions me forward. “Seems we’ve found ourselves with a job opening, since your daddy’s vacated. You’re next in line. We’ll put ya to work with me or my brother, the pretentious bastard.”

Hudson Wilder, he means. Stepbrother to Cade, he runs the business side of the operation. Cade’s daddy’s half retired, if you count running a crew of criminals spread all over the south as a job. There’s a rumor the organization is being passed over to Hudson. He’s the smart one.

There’s another rumor Cade don’t like that very much.

My feet drag with each step, giving me time to scan the room as I go. Cade stands next to a man tied to a chair. That must be where the smell’s coming from. A broken set of blinds lets in just enough light to see the dust motes floating through the air around them.

I pass a kitchen table full of weapons. There’s blood on one of the knives.

At a gesture from his boss, Murphy lifts the blinds and Cade Wilder comes into full view. He’s a tall, lanky guy with a dirty blonde mullet and the smile of a sadist. Might not be the biggest guy in the crew, or the best fighter, but that don’t keep him from being the scariest motherfucker in the south. Everyone knows he’s batshit crazy.

Now that I’m closer, the stench is worse. I cover my nose without thinking, then catch myself, slapping my hands down against my sides.

Cade chuckles. “You’ll have to excuse our friend here. It’s been a long night, and old Charles had an accident.” The guy whimpers, and his torturer pats him on the back. “Now, now, no need to be embarrassed, Charlie. Accidents happen.”

Charles... Charlie. I squint at the man whose face looks like raw hamburger, shocked when I recognize him. Charlie Cunningham. He owns a bunch of small businesses from New Orleans over to Lafayette. Nice enough guy. I know his daughter. Wonder how he got mixed up with the Wilders.

“What’s the matter boy, your mama didn’t teach you manners? Come say hello to our guest.”

I flinch without meaning to, and Cade’s face lights up like he’s been handed salt to rub in a wound.

“Ohhhh, that’s right. You didn’t have a mama, did ya? Real shame, her running off and leaving ya with your daddy. Guess you were still in diapers, though. Wouldn’t remember her at all. Sorry, kid.”

He ain’t sorry.

Cade clears his throat. He’s still waiting on me, so I do my best to look into poor Charlie’s swollen eyes. “Hello sir. N-nice to see ya.” My voice wobbles when I catch the hint of recognition in his better eye.

“Well, then, now that we have that out of the way.” Cade takes a step forward so we’re toe to toe. “You remember the day your daddy brought you here, when you were a boy?”

I nod. I still have nightmares about it.

“Right. You’re a smart kid.” He backs up next to Charlie. “I find myself needing a job done, and your number’s up. I trust you know what I’m asking of ya.”

My head’s swimming. He wants me to kill a man. Charlie. A guy that has a life, and a family, and I’m supposed to take it all away for no good reason. Charlie makes a gurgling sound in his throat, and my knees shake. I knew this day would come. Knew it when I was eight, but I didn’t think it would happen so soon.

This’ll change everything. I ain’t ready.

“Go choose your weapon, kid.” He gestures at the table. “Grab us a drink will ya, Murph? Our boy here is about to become a man.”

I suck in a breath. It sounds like a wheeze.

Cade wraps his hand around the back of my neck. It’s warm and sweaty. The blood rushes in my ears; there’s a weird, high-pitched squeal behind it. “Hey, now, boy, look at me.” He taps my cheek. “You don’t want to disappoint me now, do ya?”

I shake my head.

“Look, I get it. And I like you, kid, so I’ll tell ya straight. Charlie here, he’s a dead man, anyway. I’m the judge, and jury, and it’s a done deal.”

So that makes me the executioner.

“Think of this as a rite of passage, so to speak. A show of loyalty. It’ll be okay.”

I nod again, but it ain’t okay. I’m still in high school. I should be thinking about getting through algebra or finding a girl I like and asking her to prom. Maybe I could even go to college one day, prove I ain’t trash like my daddy. I’ve always liked nature. Thought I might like to be a ranger or something.

Last thing I should be doing is standing here on Cade Wilder’s houseboat, being told to kill a man who’s probably nothing more than a scapegoat. Or a test.

I guess that’s what this is. A test.

I’m smarter than people think. Tests are kind of my thing; if this is what it’s gonna take to survive, I’ll pass this one, too.

‘Cept this one will cost me my soul.

I turn toward the table, ready to get this fuckin’ day over with, but he stops me. “Hold up a second, kid.” There’s a scrap of paper with some chicken scratch written on it in the palm of his hand.

“What’s this, sir?”

His smirk makes me real uncomfortable. “That there’s a surprise, kid. A little gift from me to you, for after you finish this job.”

Heat rises up my neck. I got no idea what he’s up to, but I do know better than to trust a surprise coming from Cade Wilder. “Relax,” he slaps me on the back. “It’s just an address. You might be interested in what you’ll find there. Do with it what you want. It’s a gift, either way. No strings attached.”

Right. Men like him don’t give ya nothin’ that ain’t attached to strings. I shove the paper in my pocket, mumbling a thank you.

Murphy frees Charlie from the chair. He falls to the floor, looking up at me through swollen eyes. Cade reaches down, grabs him by his hair, and hauls him to his feet.

With sweat running into my eyes, I step over to the side table. It’s like a buffet of weapons. I look them over. The gun will be fast...

“Uh-uh-uh.” I freeze. Cade saw what I was going for and don’t approve. "First rule. If you’re gonna kill a man that can’t fight back, least you can do is get up close and personal. Look him straight in the eye as you kill him. It’s a matter of respect.”

My mind goes blank.

“Use the knife.”

Charlie whimpers as I reach for it. There’s a tap tap tap at his feet as a fresh puddle of piss spreads around his shoe.

Cade spits on the floor. “Jesus, Charlie, this look like a toilet to you?”

Charlie’s eyes meet mine, and he breaks. “Please. Silas, you know me. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be like your da—”

A smack upside the head cuts him short. “Oh, shut the fuck up.”

He keeps begging, but with his eyes, like I got any fuckin’ power to help him.

I don’t want to be a murderer, but should both of us die? ‘Cause that’s what’ll happen if I refuse. Is my life supposed to end on my sixteenth birthday, just to make a point neither of us is gonna win?

Hell, Charlie might be the lucky one. For me, this is only the beginning.

“I’m getting bored here.”

I wheeze again. Cade Wilder’s getting bored, and I feel like there’s a fist around my lungs. I can’t move. This is the wrong time to panic.

The Bayou Never Tells

Contents