Chapter 28
CROC

He was gone.

I tracked him all the way to the end. He'd ran. He'd ran and fallen over himself, breaking branches and leaving a trail. He'd made it easy, but I'd been too preoccupied, and so had every alligator in the swamp.

I stared out at the big water, searching, even though I knew he wasn't anywhere near. His scent was faint, mingling with the smell of the sludge. Dump day had been three days ago, and he'd been waiting for them. He'd planned it. He'd succeeded.

Willow's words echoed through my mind. She'd said this would happen. She'd said she couldn't have my child because there would be no protecting it. I let out a roar and threw my knuckles into the closest tree. It cracked and splintered, but it didn't break because it was stronger than I was, and so were the many men who would undoubtedly come.

They wanted her. They wanted my babies. They wanted Julia.

I stood back and straightened, taking a deep breath in and turning back toward home. This was my world. This was the world I'd been born from. The canal was my mother. The gators were my brothers and sisters. The house, the garden, and everything that I owned had been built by Pappy.

Willow was wrong. She had to be. I had to prove it. I had to protect. I opened my mouth and released the call, pulling it from my lungs, deeper and louder than I'd ever done before. I called to all of them. Every gator, every frog, every bird and creature, no matter its size. Snakes slithered across the earth. Insects swarmed. Answering me. Answering the sound that'd been ingrained into my lungs since childhood. They knew this wasn't the same. This wasn't a skinned knee, a scared boy, a child in a tree too small to get down. They'd helped me grow into a man, and now my deep rumbling echoed that change; insistent, urging, demanding, and they answered quicker than they ever had before.

They arrived in droves and followed me as I went, multiplying until I stood in the yard surrounded by an army. Croaks and bellows, buzzing and hisses all mixed into one deafening sound. Gator broke through the crowd and stopped just in front of me, head up, eyes intent, and I met his eyes briefly before addressing them all.

"Men are coming," I shouted.

Silence fell. Attention on me. I stared out at them, every set of green eyes, every flutter of wings, ancient gators to newborns. Every shape and size. It was the world I knew; the world I'd grown up in and survived and learned, and I'd protect it.

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Willow

I heard him. His haunting call pierced the walls of my subconscious and lifted me out of a dead sleep. My insides twisted, eyes opened wide, and the urge to answer him made me sit up and turn toward the door.

Julia sat in a chair she'd dragged into the living room, a book loosely held in her lap and her attention fixed in the same direction. "What is that?" She stood.

I did the same, moving past her to reach the door first. Croc's cries echoed across the swamp and grew louder, and the swamp answered him. Julia forced herself beside me and froze at the sight of him breaking through the trees. Birds flew overhead, frogs and gators and snakes and bugs and every creature we'd come to recognize flocked around him. He was formidable to watch. His eyes were brighter, glowing even in the daylight, and he looked different. Somehow larger. Somehow stronger. He stood straighter. His face more solemn. His jaw set. Gaze determined.

He was regal, like a king calling his subjects to war, and when his voice echoed out, silencing the masses, I realized with stunned horror that he was.

"Men are coming," he bellowed out, then he slowly moved, pacing back and forth. "They want to cut us open and see what's inside. They want to take the swamp and use it for themselves. They want what's ours, and I can't fight them alone."

He stopped walking, and when he spoke again, the words were low, dark. "Will we let them?"

An uproar resounded. I covered my ears, staring out in wonder at the army, at the man controlling them.

Croc turned, and the look in his eyes made my heart give an extra beat. He was more than I'd imagined. He was something else entirely. Not human. Not animal. Godly. Otherworldly. Something formidable and thunderous.

He turned back to the flock. "Watch for them. When they come, give the call, then we'll show them how nature feels about their behavior."

Another uproar sounded behind him as he turned away and closed the space between us. Julia stared at his face in a mix of wonder and pride. He hugged her tight, then let go and engulfed me in his arms. "I can," he murmured into my ear, crushing me against him. "I will protect."

"He's gone?" I breathed against him, mind racing. It felt like a dream. It felt unreal. He felt unreal. But it wasn't. It was happening, and the perfect world I'd grown so accustomed to was imploding.

"His scent ran out at the dump site," he released me to address Julia, too. "He went with them."

She nodded, and the words seemed to age her. The lines of her face drew tight, deepened, and paled. Her attention centered on the kids sitting quietly in the middle of the floor. They'd ventured out and huddled together, like ghosts of the children I'd found the first night. They knew who was coming. They knew what that meant, and no army Croc could conjure would ever be enough. He didn't know. He didn't understand.

"We need to leave," I said.

Croc stiffened. "Why? You saw. The swamp will stop them. We will stop them."

"It's not that simple," I said, though the words broke on their way out. A sob formed in my throat. Another home lost. A wonderful home that I'd allowed myself to grow attached to. "They have guns, Croc. They have guns and bombs and firepower. One man could take down a third of those animals in less than a minute." I swallowed hard, blinked rapidly, then squared my shoulders and swallowed the despair. The dream was over, and it was once again time to survive.

I turned away. "Julia, pack Merle's bags. If we go now, maybe we can get deeper into the woods and hide until we can find a better plan."

"We can't run, girl," Julia said, voice tight.

I turned to stare at her. "We can't not run."

"Where will we go?" she snapped. "You'd have to swim for days to reach the other site, and the children won't make that. They're too small. There's nowhere else to go."

I shook my head, but she was right. The children couldn't swim it, and neither could she. Any other direction would lead us to them, without an army and a swamp to back us up. We were trapped. We were condemned. This was the end. I ground my teeth and gripped my hair. "We have to hide the children." I turned back to Croc. "Where can we hide the children?"

"The children can stay with you and Julia on the roof until it's over." His tone was dark, determined.

It wasn't good enough. "Julia can take them to the garden and hide in the old shed." I looked at her. "Cover yourselves in mud, that way if you hear them, you'll be able to run into the woods and hide."

She held my gaze a long moment, then pulled me into her arms and held me with all her strength. "I wish things were different," she whispered hoarsely. "If I could give you my youth, I would, in a heartbeat, little bit."

Her use of Merle's nickname broke the last thread that held me together, and I choked, clinging her tighter, memorizing the smell and feel of her hug, knowing it could be the last time I ever felt it.

She pulled back and wiped her eyes, then set to work packing a bag to take with her and the kids. "If this is going to happen," she said, meeting my gaze, "We won't make it easy for them."

I nodded and turned back to Croc. "We need a plan. We need to set up traps, build weapons, do whatever we can before they arrive."

He gripped my arm and pulled me outside, shutting the door and pinning me to it. "You act as if we've already lost," he hissed at me. "Why? Why do you always doubt me?"

"You don't know what's coming, Croc." I cupped his cheek. "We'll be fighting fire with sticks, and the best thing any of us can do is hope we die before we're taken." I held his gaze, keeping the words as soft as I could manage. "The alternative is much worse."

His eyes blazed. "Follow me," he said, holding me locked with those shimmering irises. "Believe in me, in the swamp, and I will prove it to you, Willow. I will."

I wanted to. I wished it were possible. I'd never wanted to believe something more. I studied his fiery expression. It was what he'd always wanted from me, and if this was the last days, hours, minutes of our lives together, I'd give him everything I could. "I believe you," I said, "and I'll follow you wherever you go."

He kissed me then, rough and demanding, sealing my words into law. Then, he pulled back and took my hand, leading me behind him toward the trees.

"Where are we going?" I asked, glancing back to the house where Julia and the kids remained and not wanting to leave them alone just yet.

"To get ready. To prove it." He turned and saw where my focus laid. "They won't sneak up on us, Willow. We'll know the minute they come within a mile of this place."

I nodded, and I followed, and I tried to believe.