Once in a Blood Moon by Dorothea Bonneau

Author:Dorothea Bonneau [Bonneau, Dorothea Hubble]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dorothea Bonneau
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Part Two

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Chapter Seventeen

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T

he sun is a sliver on the rim of the horizon when Alexandra hears hounds braying in the distance. Did Lulu tell the sheriff where to find her? No time to brood. The dogs are closing in.

Think!

Hounds can’t track in water.

She climbs down the trunk and races toward ribbons of black water that spread through the mangrove and cypress swamp. The sound of hounds howling wanes, then bursts into a cacophony of triumphant barks. In the distance, she hears a man shout, “She was hiding in this tree trunk!”

Pushing her fear of snakes and alligators out of her mind, Alexandra wades into waist-high water near a stand of reeds. She ducks under the surface and pushes herself along the bottom until she comes to a tree root protruding into the water. She breaks off a reed to use as a straw to draw air, and takes hold of the root to pull herself farther below the surface.

She feels the vibration of running feet. Hears the muffled shouts of men. Pulls herself closer to the muddy bottom. A school of tiny silver fish brushes her cheek. The distorted braying of hounds reverberates through the water. Even though it’s murky, she can make out a dark shape swimming toward her. Something thrashes; she hears a yelp; tendrils of blood spiral toward her. Had an alligator just attacked a dog?

She hears the muffled sound of men whistling their dogs out of the water. She waits. Listens. Thinks she’s alone. She swims toward the bank of the river. She’s about to break the surface when something clamps on to her leg. She opens her mouth to scream. Foul water fills her lungs. Gasping for breath, she’s yanked to the surface by an unkempt monster. The huge, bearded man holds her upside down by her ankles. When she stops vomiting, he lays her out on the ground and clamps his hand over her mouth.

He has pale skin, greasy brown hair, and eyes the color of wet ash. One of his front teeth is chipped, and the other is missing. His body reeks of fish and tobacco. He digs his filthy fingernails into her shoulder and pulls her toward him.

“You’re hurting me!” she says.

“Shet yer mouth!” He pulls a hunting knife from his belt and presses the razor-edge to her throat. “Or I’ll shet it fer good.”

She clamps her teeth so tight, her jaw aches. He heaves her over his shoulder and runs along the edge of the swamp, keeping a steady pace as he traces his way through the web of swampy channels. Trees thin. He splashes across a marsh without breaking stride, leaps onto the shore of an outcropping of land, and continues to run until he reaches a clearing where three crude cabins squat in a meadow of matted-down grass. He dumps Alexandra on the ground near the largest cabin in front of two men armed with guns and knives. Their features appear similar to her captor’s, except for the red hair of the youngest; she guesses they’re family.

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