Page 30 of Lake's Legacy

We hear the occasional splash, reminding us that we aren’t alone out here—that the girls aren’t the only ones the predators are stalking. However, in our case, we’re armed. The girls aren’t.

“Don’t worry, Annette knows this area. She’s leading Olivia to safety through the narrowest part of the bayou. There is a road on the other side.”

His confidence builds up my hope. But that shatters with their screams.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: OLIVIA

Pain sears through me as I clutch at my scalp. I don’t have to see the blood to know I’m bleeding. My fingers are sticky with it. The bullet must have grazed me. The thing about head wounds is they bleed—a lot.

“Annette,” I call out as I follow her through the swamp. “That bullet grazed me. I’m bleeding.”

“Shit. Can you continue?”

“Yes, but I need to stop the bleeding.” Ripping my shirt, I press the fabric against the wound. It won’t be enough to staunch the blood completely, but hopefully, it will stop it from dripping and leaving a trail.

“Lean against this tree. I’m going to look for some moss.”

Did she say moss? Before I can ask, she’s gone.

A few minutes later, she returns with her hands full of plants.

“What are you going to do with that?” I ask her.

“It’s Spanish Moss. Put it over the wound. It won’t stop the bleeding completely, but it will soak up some of the blood. It will also keep the wound clean.”

As she suggests, I press the moss to the wound and nod for her to keep going.

“We have to keep to the ground and stay away from the water,” Annette instructs me. “Also, watch the trees. That’swhere the snakes hide. They’ll drop on you if you’re not paying attention.”

I stumble as she describes all the various animals out here that want to kill us. Maybe we’d be better off going back to the cabin. But remembering the looks in their eyes, I’m sure that I’d prefer to be killed quickly by something out here than face the nightmare of what they had in store for us. As I follow Annette, I realize that if I were out here alone, I’d be a goner. But with her, I have a chance.

We stay on solid ground, but the occasional splash of water reminds me we aren’t alone. I expect an alligator to leap out of the water and grab me. Of course, I also expect the men to catch up to us. I’m getting dizzy with my head on a constant swivel. Every so often, Annette snags more moss and hands it to me. She takes the used moss and drops it into the water. I guess so we don’t leave a trail.

“Won’t that bring the alligators?” I ask Annette.

“They aren’t sharks,” Annette tells me, which makes me feel better until she continues. “They can scent blood out of the water.”

The sky continues to darken. I don’t know how Annette finds her way through the swamp with so little light. I want to ask, but I’m afraid to do so. So far, none of her explanations have brought me comfort.

I’m exhausted. The hauling of the logs, the blood loss, and the humidity combine to make me want to curl up and sleep. But I know we can’t stop until we get out of this blasted swamp.

When Annette stops walking, I’m so lost in my thoughts that I almost bump into her. I’m about to question her, but then I hear a noise that stops my heart. Something, or someone, is crashing through the foliage and coming straight at us. My first thought is that the assholes found us, but then I hear loud snorts and know whatever we’re facing isn’t human.

“Shit, boars, climb the tree,” Annette orders, pushing me toward the nearest cypress tree. She pushes me up onto the trunk before scrambling up behind me. We’re only three feet off the ground when two enormous beasts burst through the undergrowth and run toward us. I can’t stop myself from screaming as they circle the tree trunk. Annette doesn’t have to push me to climb higher. I swear they grow larger as they get closer. Annette’s foot is only inches away from their snouts.

“Can you reach the next limb?” Annette asks.

I glance up and measure the distance. I can’t reach it from where I’m sitting. But if I can get on my knees or stand, I might be able to close the distance. Not wanting to fail Annette, I shift until my knees are under me. Glancing down, I see the boar make a jump that brings him much too close to her. The limb I’m on is on the thin side, but I get my foot planted in front of my knee. Using my arms to maintain my balance, I slowly rise and grab hold of the limb above me. Pulling myself up, I wrap my entire body around it. Relief pours through me when Annette takes the spot I vacated. We’re both out of reach of the frustrated boars. I don’t know how long we can hold on with the pair circle below us. Our strength will give it out long before they tire of waiting.

“How are you doing?” Annette asks. “How is your head?”

“I’m okay enough for now.” I lean my cheek against the limb while I use my right hand to check the wound. I feel the stickiness of congealing blood. “I think I stopped bleeding.”

“Good. I’m hoping they give up soon. Shit. Do you hear that?”

Fuck! What now? I listen hard but only hear the boars huffing and puffing below us. But then I hear large bodies crashing through the foliage, preceded by shouting. Shots scare the boars off before two dark shapes pass below us. Seeing Lake and Toff almost causes me to lose my grip on the limb.

Toff helps Annette climb down, and Lake comes to assist me. I cling to him as he holds me.

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