Page 48 of Let Her Live

He almost thought he had a memory of a time before the gods had chosen him.

It came to him in a flash. He remembered his bedroom. He remembered the strange red fly that he had swatted, that had been sitting on his arm.

Odd, he thought, that the gods visited him the next night. Was it a sign? A good omen?

As he slank through the forest, the moonlight seeping through the trees, he remembered the night the gods visited him.

They hovered over his bed as he lay there and told him they were from an ancient tribe of people who had once lived here.

He had read about those people once, somewhere. He wasn't sure where anymore. Everything before they hadchosen him was hard to recall. Even his name had escaped him. But who needed a name, when they had such a divine purpose? He had to remain steadfast and strong—for them. So he ducked behind the tree and watched through the woods as his next sacrifice walked, a clueless little man who had gotten himself lost in the Everglades. Estranged from his campsite, he had been walking for several minutes alone.

He remembered the way this man had cruelly kicked the turtle. How the turtle's lifeforce had seeped away. Cruelty, all of it.

This man deserved to be sacrificed, and he deserved to be forever doomed to this world.

That was why he blindfolded them. To keep their filthy souls in, unable to escape, unable to get the honor of being reincarnated as an animal.

And the cypress trees—those were the gods' choosing.

He stepped out from behind the tree, his footsteps careful not to make a sound. The man continued to walk, unaware of the predator lurking behind him. The sacrifice's arrogance and ignorance made him an easy target—a pawn in a greater game. The man would not understand the magnitude of the sacrifice he was about to make until it was too late.

The gods had spoken to him through the trees, whispering to him that their sentient spirits were embedded deep within the rough bark. They told him that the trees were the guardians of their realm and that they could communicate through them if he listened closely enough. And so he listened, night after night, under the soft glow of the full moon.

He wondered when they would be satisfied, if ever. But he didn't care. He would work to appease them, to prove to them that they had chosen the right man in their conquest.

He would be more than a mortal—he would be a hero to the gods.

And this filthy man's filthy soul would be food for them, and offering special from him.

As he approached the sacrifice, he could hear the man's heavy breathing and the sound of his footsteps squishing through the muddy ground. The prey was so close he could almost smell the stench of fear seeping from his pores. The man's arrogance had been his downfall, and now he would pay the ultimate price. All he had to do was wait for the perfect moment to strike. He was getting closer... closer… Only a little farther now.

CHAPTER TWENTYFOUR

Fiona's breath was caught in her throat as she ran behind Jake through the forest, the damp earth squelching beneath her shoes, wetting her feet and socks. Damp, humid air surrounded her, covering her in a layer of sweat, but they had to push on.

Chris Hein's life was in danger. She could feel it in her bones.

They had to find him, but they were like chickens with their heads cut off. They had no direction, no clue as to where to look. They kept their flashlights on the ground, looking for clues that pointed to Chris, but so far, no luck.

"Are we lost?" Fiona asked Jake, her voice quivering.

Jake turned around, his eyes wild and frantic. He was just as lost as she was, and he was just as scared. "I-I don't know," he finally said, his voice quaking. It was rare to see Jake waver like this, and Fiona shared his anxiety. They couldn't lose another victim.

Maybe Chris wasn't even out here. Maybe the killer wasn't either. Maybe he had tripped and gotten lost in the forest. Maybe he got a huge thorn lodged in his foot and stumbled and got disoriented, then wandered off in the wrong direction. Maybe he had been attacked by a wild animal and was now being torn apart by hungry jaws. And yet, Fiona suspected the worst. She couldn't help it. Her subconscious was already trying to cope with it. She just hoped that she was wrong, that they would find something out here.

Jake stopped, and held up his hand. "Wait a minute."

Fiona's chest heaved hard. She took a deep breath. "What is it?"

"It's faint, but I hear something moving," Jake said.

He started walking, and Fiona followed him. She listened, but couldn't make out the footsteps. But then they stopped again.

"It's still coming from this way," Jake said. "I'm sure of it."

They kept their voices low, only their breathing filling the night, along with the cacophony of insects and wildlife.

Fiona's heart jumped when she heard it too—a shuffling.

---