When hiking, know where you are going. Study a map of the area and make sure to bring it with you -- being able to pinpoint your location will increase your chances of being found.
I’m so tired that my body sleeps as I walk.
My limbs are heavy. My body aches. But my brain refuses to give in to the exhaustion.
I have to make it home. If it’s the last thing I do.
We are out of food, out of water, and out of time.
Hours later, I finally spot Birdee’s fence at the edge of the Everglades.
My body recharges, waking up, and I get a third wind. I quickly kiss Mo on the cheek and run ahead. I can hear him jog behind me. Staying close enough, but not too close to stop me from racing to my freedom.
I made it.
“Birdee! Birdee!” I scream her name as I’m running through the sharp saw grass. The emotions that have been trapped deep inside me for the last few days bubble over. “Birdee! Birdee!”
My grandmother opens the screen door and looks around in disbelief, as if she’s not sure of the source.
“Birdee!” Tears stream down my face as I climb her fence and fall onto her lawn.
“Chicken!” When she spots me, she races toward me with her arms outstretched. I don’t slow down until I slam into her, taking her down to the ground with me. She doesn’t care about the crash. Her arms fold around me like a bat’s wings.
I am home.
“Oh, Chicken.” She pecks my head with kisses. Then she yells, “Mary! She’s back!” Birdee hugs me hard one more time then pushes me away. She scans my body for wounds, scratches—anything she can fix or bandage. She touches the bandaged bite on my arm and the gash on my head. Then she hammers me with questions. “Are you okay? Where have you been? Are you hurt?”
Mo jumps the fence and walks up.
Birdee releases her death grip and holds up her hand. He helps her to her feet and she bear hugs him. Almost harder than she squeezed me. “Thank you, boy. I owe you everything.”
“You owe me nothing, Miss Birdee.” Mo leans down a few inches and hugs her.
Over her shoulder, I see Mom burst through the door and stomp down the porch steps.
Even though every muscle screams, I jump up and practically trip across the lawn to get to her.
She stops running when she’s only a few feet away, as if pretending to be calm, and then races over and clutches onto me.
She doesn’t say a word. The lines etched in her forehead hint that she wants to yell but is so thankful she can’t complain. I feel guilty for causing her so much worry over the last year since Dad died. Mom deserves a break from all this horror. Neither of us has gotten one yet.
Rex shows up and lifts his baseball hat slightly to mimic a polite hello. “Hallo, mooi een!” His grin fades as he glances over my shoulder at Mo. His eyes dart past both of us and scan the bushes beyond the border of the yard. As if waiting for someone to come.
“Rex—” I whisper.
“—Grace? Where’s Dylan?” Rex crumples his hat in his hands. “Where’s Sadie?”
I pull away from Mom. “We were hoping they already made it back?” This was probably just dumb hope but part of me believed Dylan and Sadie would simply hike in and wait for us. I banked on the fact that Uncle Bob was bluffing about hurting either of them. I convinced myself he lied.
“No. They’re not here. I was hoping they would come back with you. That Mo would have found them too.”
“I never saw either one,” Mo says weakly.
Birdee walks over to Rex and drapes her arm around him. She tries to sound extra peppy. “Hon, I’m sure they’re right behind them. Right, Chicken?”
I want to burst into tears. Cry. Scream. Because I’m not so sure they’re ever coming back. Alive. I can’t speak words so I nod instead.
“Grace?” Mom reaches over and squeezes my shoulder. “Can you tell us happened out there?”
I avoid Rex’s eyes and try not to sound as worried as he looks. “When I went to find Cat, the panther, Sadie and Dylan came looking for me. But Uncle Bob showed up and grabbed me. He must have had serious help because when I came to, we were all together. He and his creepy buddies had taken us far out in Everglades. They killed that runaway girl in front of us…”
“The one on T.V.?” Birdee asks.
When I nod, Mom gasps and presses her hand against her heart. “Oh my goodness, that poor girl.”
Birdee throws her straw hat on the ground. “Bunch of crazy men!”
“Birdee!” Mom yells and then lowers her voice. “Go on.”
Words spill out of my mouth like water pouring out of a full pitcher. “They made us run. Tried to hunt us down, but we separated.” The more I talk, the more out of breath I get. Images flash in my mind as I spit out a quick rendition of all that happened. “Sadie and Dylan found me eventually but the men, they were coming after us. Dylan distracted them while we got away.”
“So where’s Sadie?”
I clear my throat. “She wanted to go back for him.”
“And you let her?”
The voice is unfamiliar, so I raise my head. Behind Rex is a woman that resembles Sadie. Same disheveled dark hair. Same bright eyes. Same thin frame. Her face is puffy and streaked and her fancy mayor’s wife’s suit is dirty and wrinkled. “You left my Sadie out there? Alone?”
I can only stare, not knowing what to say.
Mo comes next to me. “Grace wanted to go after Sadie. But I wouldn’t let her go back. It was too dangerous.”
I glance at his talking. I left Sadie. And it had nothing to do with Mo. Mo came later. He’s taking the blame for me.
The woman crosses her arms in anger but her expressions are conflicted. Her furrowed eyebrows tell me she is mad but her frown and tears remind me she is heartbroken. “You let Sadie stay out there. When it was that bad? Why? Why wouldn’t you bring them both back home? Why just her?”
Mom obviously senses the mounting tension. She kisses me on the head and beelines to the woman’s side. She grabs both of her hands. “Cammie, I’m sure Sadie and Dylan are together. Let’s go inside and call the police. Give them an update. They’ll help us find them. Both.” She cups Cammie’s elbow and leads her back into the house. I hear the woman sobbing as the door slams behind her.
I’m left outside with Rex, Birdee and Mo.
Rex sighs, his lip quivers and his hands are pinned on his hips. He straddles the line between breaking down and being strong. “Any idea where they went?”
“I can show you where I was on a map. That is a starting place.”
“Good. That’s a start.” Rex walks to his car and pulls out a map of the Glades.
“I’m going to call Sweeney.” Mo squeezes my hand. “He’ll send extra help.”
Birdee overhears and butts in. “I’m not sure we need Sweeney around. Do we? He’s nothing but trouble as far as I’m concerned.” When she sees Rex’s face, her shoulders sag and her stubbornness crumbles. “But...if anyone can help, it’s him.”
Rex spreads out the map as I point out the last location where I saw Sadie and Dylan. He marks the spots with a pen and folds it back up. “Let’s hope Uncle Bob doesn’t find them first.”
“He won’t.” I spout out and look at Mo, hoping he’ll fill in the gaps.
Mo steps up like he always does. Anything to take care of me in any way. “His pet liger killed him. Grace and I watched the whole thing.”
Birdee cups her mouth. “That’s a horrific way to go, but I can’t say I’m not glad.”
“Serves him right.” Rex says.
She touches his arm. “See hon, we’ll find them. Hope is not dead until we kill it.”
“I’m going to get started.” Rex leaves us and climbs in his truck.
Birdee tries to grab my arm to stop me from chasing him, but I run over to his window. Rex sits with both hands on the steering wheel with his head bowed forward.
“I’m sorry. He’ll be okay. You’ll see.” I cup his hand and try to give him some comfort, though I’m not sure I believe what I’m saying. I want to believe it but that doesn’t make it true. “Dylan is the strongest man I know.”
“I hope you’re right, Grace.” Rex starts the car as I take a few steps back. “Because if he’s not, I lose the only son I ever had. I’m not sure me or my family will ever be okay again.”
As Rex backs down the driveway, Mo and Birdee head inside.
I stay out until Rex drives away.
I feel his pain. The day Dad died, a part of me died with him.
I pray today is different.
That whole night I toss and turn.
I can’t stop thinking of Dylan and Sadie. Of the liger hunting us down. And of the men who started this whole sick game.
How many other kids did Uncle Bob hunt? How many animals did he kill? And what about all the animals at his house? Who’s been feeding them the last few days?
Finally at about five in the morning, I go ahead and get dressed.
I head downstairs into the living room.
Mo is fast asleep on the couch. He’s lying on his back with a blanket pulled up to his waist. No shirt on. I resist peeking under the covers. Boxers or briefs? I can only assume he’s wearing something. Faint tan lines draw perfect lines along his waist. His hair is messy and he has one arm draped over his face, as if he’s blocking out any sliver of light. I can tell his face is newly shaven. He breathes heavy but not loud and obnoxious like a bear. It’s actually comforting.
How can he sleep this hard? After all that’s happened?
I sit in the chair across from him and watch him. I love how his long black lashes lie on his cheek. The way his lips part slightly to allow the lucky air in and out. How his chest moves up and down in a steady rhythm. When Mo is smooth-faced and asleep, he looks younger than the gruff unshaven guy from the woods. Yet even at 17 going on 18, he seems wiser than his years.
I love this guy.
Everything about him.
Sometimes I wonder why a calm and cool guy from across the pond—not to mention with a sexy accent—puts up with a back woods girl like me dressed in a heavy southern twang and who has a built-in impulse button that sits on top of the chip on my shoulder. Sometimes, most times, I feel broken. Cracked. But when Mo is around—when he looks at me—I grow stronger, like I could actually piece myself back together again.
Even after going through all the horror of the past few days, I still love that the minute he saw me on T.V.—thinking I was in trouble—he raced down here to make sure Birdee and I were okay.
Mo’s not undependable like other guys my age. He’s always here for me. He never hesitates to show me how he feels. Never plays games. And always ensures I’m safe and sound.
So why I am so scared of losing him all the time? Don’t I deserve everything he gives me?
Or do I?
I move and sit on the ground next to him, lightly touching his black hair with my fingers. His breath still has the slight smell of mouthwash and his skin smells like Birdee’s Dove soap.
No matter what’s happened, somehow when I’m down and out, this guy makes me happy.
I lean over gently and brush my lips across his. It takes everything I have to hold back from jumping on top of him and giving him the real kiss he deserves.
The one I always think about. Want. Need. Love.
Petey flies over me and squawks, “Wake up!”
Mo jerks up and our heads bump, causing me to bite my lip. “Ouch.”
“Blossom, I’m sorry.” Mo says, rubbing his head.
I touch my lip to see if it’s bleeding. Then I throw a magazine at Petey bobbing up and down on his perch. “Stupid bird.”
Mo stretches and yawns then he puts both hands behind his head. “Miss Grace, were you trying to take advantage of me? Undressing me with those gorgeous green eyes?”
“No.” I say. Then I can’t help but smile. “I mean yes, kinda.”
He pulls me on top of him. “Good. I like to be girl-handled. Only by my girl, of course.”
I pop him in the forehead as my body tingles from being this close to him. “You better.”
He reaches up and sweeps a piece of hair out of my face. “Trust me, I need no other.”
Then Mo lifts his head and kisses me. It’s perfect, as always. The light touch. The way he moves his lips over mine. The way he stops and kisses the sides of my lips before kissing me hard again. Everything about him is perfect. For me.
Amid all the love he gives freely, something inside me shifts every time we kiss. Something that will never be reversed. Each time, I open up a little. Mo saves me from shutting down completely. Without him, I would have sunk a long time ago.
I can dwell more on this feeling later; for now, I’m happy to feel his breath come and go in time to mine. I’m happy to relish his kiss: hard, but soft; fiery but cool— a split second in time, but it changes me forever.
So much is said in these kisses.
Petey squawks from where he perches at the window, “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.”
My eyes pop open and I jerk away. “Cat.” How could I forget? In all this craziness, I’ve completely forgotten about the poor panther I was rescuing when Uncle Bob dragged me out into the swamps. I try to think back to when I last saw her. I remember taking off the rope, and her running away when I was hit from the back.
“Wait.” Mo still has his eyes closed. “Stay with me for little longer.”
I push off his chest and stand. “I can’t.”
“Bugger. I knew you’d say that.” Mo pushes up and pulls on his shirt. “What is it? I can hear your wheels cranking out some crazy from here.”
“I have to go.” I rush over and yank on my hiking shoes.
Mo sits up and pulls on his shirt, arms first, then head. He rushes to the doorway right when I reach the threshold and stops me. “You—my dear—are not going anywhere. And I mean that in the least controlling way.”
I grab my bag off the rack and check to make sure it has everything I need. Which reminds me of giving stuff to Sadie. Which reminds me my friend isn’t here. She would want me to go find Cat. “I have to go to Uncle Bob’s.”
“Uh, negative,” Mo says matter-of-factly. “Not a good plan.”
When I try to move around him, he blocks my path. “I have to find Cat. The panther I told you about.”
“No you don’t.”
“Why not? I say, crossing my arms in frustration.
“It’s too dangerous.”
I shake my head. “Uncle Bob is dead. We saw him die. Unless we are afraid of zombies now, I’m pretty sure I’m safe at his place.”
Mo’s face changes as if he forgot that little fact. “We need to stay here until we figure this thing out. Sweeney should be here within the hour. He jumped in the car after I called him. We can go then. With back up.”
“It won’t take long. I need to find that panther. Then we can come back.” I try to get past him again. “Mo, I’m serious. If Uncle Bob is dead, there are about fifty wild animals trapped in horrible cages and conditions, that haven’t eaten in days. I need to go there and make sure Cat and the rest of them are okay.”
“Sweeney will know what to do when he gets here.”
“I don’t want to go—” I raise my voice at first and then lower it so Birdee and Mom don’t hear. “—I don’t want to wait for Sweeney. It might be too late.”
“You never do.”
I move closer to him. “Please come with me. See if Cat is there. We can wait for Sweeney to help rescue the other animals if you want. Please.” I rise up on my tiptoes and kiss him.
“If you are trying to manipulate me...” He grips my waist. “It’s working.” He leans down to kiss me again.
I grin and turn my head. “Come with me. We can have him meet us there.”
He doesn’t say anything.
I wait while he stares down at me. “Please? What’s going to happen?”
He cups his hand over my mouth. “Don’t say that. Every time you say that, something does.”
“Mo, we saw Uncle Bob die. Hercules practically fed on him in front of us. No one’s there. Except for the abused and starving animals.”
“What about those other men? What if they show up?”
I tilt my head and narrow my eyes. He’s trying to stall me, maybe hoping Birdee and Mom will get up. He knows they’ll never let me leave now. To go anywhere. Ever again. “You know as well as I do those men aren’t going to show up there. They probably know I’ve made it home by now and are hightailing their butts out of the state before the Feds can track them down.” I kiss him again. “Did I mention that Cat is on the national endangered list? We can’t afford to lose even one panther.”
“Man, that is lower than low.” Mo holds up one finger and leaves his guard post to put on his shoes. “I’ll do this with you on one condition. You let me lead. And you listen to what I say. The whole time. I mean it.”
“Wow. You drive a hard bargain.”
He doesn’t budge. “You want to go, don’t you?”
Upstairs, I hear light footsteps walking around. Then a flush from the bathroom.
Someone’s up.
If either Mom or Birdee comes down, there’s no way I’m going anywhere. Especially not to Bob’s place.
“Better make up your mind.” Mo smiles wide and leans against the door. “Time’s ticking.”
“Fine. But we go now.”
Mo opens the door and stops me from leaving first. “Remember, after me.”