CROC

Fishing was easier here. The fish were slow and stupid. They didn't try to hide. It was as if they couldn't sense me at all. There was no chase, no hunt. All I had to do was stand still, grab them, and toss them onto the bank.

Now I knew why Willow had been so shocked by the swamp. Her world was so different. It was lifeless. I couldn't remember a time when the swamp had felt that way. Even before the changes started, I'd been connected. Anchored. Here, everything was constantly moving. The river rushed, and the few animals that came always went the second they sensed the bears.

I grabbed another fish and tossed it. Boring. Mindless. I sighed. It didn't help that today was the day. Halloween, they called it. Gator was right about humans being strange. They celebrated fall by scaring their young then giving them sweets. It was about as dumb as these fish, but the babies were so excited, there wasn't much I could do. The entire camp seemed to buzz in anticipation.

All except for Willow. Her smiles were fake. Her thoughts were guarded. But her scent was something she couldn't control.

She didn't want our baby.

A fish swam close and nibbled at my pant leg, but I didn't move to catch him. Instead, I imagined my own mother, whoever she'd been, staring off into space as if her whole world had ended. As much as I wanted a family, I didn't want one like this. I didn't want Willow forced to carry and give birth when she'd made it clear she didn't want to. I never wanted my baby to feel unwanted.

It was my fault. I should have prevented it, but at the time, my mind hadn't been able to focus on anything other than the way she felt, the way she smelled, the way she tasted.

My mouth watered, and I swallowed hard.

"Croc!" Gator hissed.

I looked over, and he was watching me. "You're just letting the fish eat you now?"

I looked down, and several more fish had joined the first. I kicked my legs and scared them away.

"Am I too late?" He butted my hip with his snout. "Say something! Anything!"

"What are you talking about?" I palmed his nose and pushed him back.

"The voodoo!" he hissed. "It's here!"

Not this again. "The voodoo didn't get me. I was just thinking."

"You better hope it didn't, because that girl that showed up is a witch!"

Ah, so that was the reason. I shook my head. "They're just saying that because of Halloween."

"No." His voice was low and stern, more serious than I thought him capable. "You need to listen to me because I saw her with my own eyes. She's a witch."

I hesitated. "Saw her what?"

"Preparing. . ." The word rang out like a cold wind before a winter storm.

A chill raced over my skin. The hairs on the back of my neck rose. "For what?" My voice was quiet, hoarse.

Gator looked around and scented the air, and when he spoke again, it was so low I had to bend down to hear him. "Collecting items for her spells."

"What kinds of items?" I whispered back.

"She searched the woods, mostly, Gathering plants, calling them names in a strange language. She kind find them even in the ground. I saw her digging."

"Julia said she uses the plants for medicine."

"Plants aren't the only thing she's taken."

I waited.

"She's stealing things from camp, little by little."

"She doesn't go into camp."

"She doesn't have to. She's a witch."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it," Gator said. "She shot Tex with an arrow, and now he follows her around wherever she goes and does everything she says. He built her house. He takes her food and supplies. Now, tell me, who do you know that would cater to the person who just shot him?"

That was strange, and now that I thought about it, Tex had been distant. I'd overheard the men complaining, saying he didn't care about fighting anymore. All Tex ever talked about was war. It was what he lived for.

Voodoo. The word sent a chill down my spine. I'd been listening to Gator tell stories about voodoo since before my voice deepened. But I'd never thought I'd actually have to face it. "She stays away from camp."

"Doesn't matter." Gator shook his head gravely. "You need to pay homage to her, so she won't use her spells against you."

"How do I do that?" My mind was spun. I'd been so focused on keeping Willow comfortable, I'd completely neglected to see the danger.

"You need to give her a gift, let her know you're a friend. And you need to hurry. Who knows what horrible thing she's planning. For all you know, she's getting ready to cast a spell right now."

I turned and trudged through the water, collecting the fish I'd caught. I'd only made it halfway to her camp when Tex intercepted me. "Hey! You're just the man I was looking for." He held a folded bit of green fabric in his hands. "Mind taking this and a fish to Fern, while I finish setting up for tonight?"

I looked at the fabric, then back to him, noticing things I hadn't before. He did seem different. He was catering to her. I nodded slowly and took the garment.

Tex's brow furrowed as he studied me. "Everything alright?" he asked slowly.

I nodded again.

He made a face. "Alright then. Thanks." Then he turned and strode towards camp, muttering something about thanking god he hadn't morphed with fish.

I heaved a deep breath. I hadn't been afraid since I was a small boy. There hadn't been room for fear, and as I grew stronger, there'd been no need for it. But this was different. I had no idea what I was facing. No clue how to defend against it. I thought of the children, of Willow and the baby.

I had to warn her, and I had to do everything in my power to protect them.

***

WILLOW

I'd thrown up every morning for the past three days. I couldn't stand the smell of fish. I was constantly fatigued. Julia said I was pregnant. She said she knew, and she was infuriatingly right most of the time.

Everything was just too much. It was all becoming too real. I found a spot in the woods where I thought no one could hear, desperate to unleash the tension I'd been holding in for weeks. I sped through the trees as if I were being chased, and in a way, I was. We were all being hunted, and now, I had a baby to keep safe. Already, I was so attached. Already, I dreamed of them at night. A little girl with Croc's smile. A little boy with my eyes. A piece of us combined to forever join us. But then my dreams turned into nightmares. A baby wrenched from my arms. A wailing cry. Or me, strapped in Lita's chair, screaming to leave, begging to go home. I saw the night I'd rescued her children, only it was my baby in the filth, and no one ever came.

I doubled over, clutching my abdomen as a gut-wrenching sob ripped from my lungs. This couldn't be happening. How could I have let this happen?

"Willow!" Croc suddenly sprinted toward me. "What's wrong? Is it the baby?" His hands hovered over my shoulders as if he was too afraid to touch me.

I choked, heaving breaths in an attempt to rebuild the dam I'd allowed to fall. But it was no use. I couldn't stop the tears. "I'm fine," I heaved. I wasn't fine. Nothing was fine.

"What is it? Are you in pain?"

Was I in pain? Yes. I was. I was finally breaking beneath the weight. Pregnant. I couldn't be pregnant.

"Willow, please, tell me what's wrong."

"What's wrong?" I scoffed, straightened, rubbed my eyes hard. "Open your eyes, Croc! I'm pregnant! It isn't joyous! It isn't a blessing! It's a baby that will be born only to suffer! That's the reality!" My voice was hoarse, just beneath a scream. The pressure was too much, and I didn't have the energy to pretend. "That's what it means to be human. We're born, we suffer, then we die! That's it. That's all. This is a tragedy!"

Croc stared at me, silent as the dead, and everything I'd just shouted echoed in the empty space.

I'd meant every word, but I shouldn't have said it. Not to him. "Croc, I'm sorry. I—"

"I understand." His voice was stoney, and he turned away, leaving me there with a gaping hole where my heart used to me.

I stood, stunned, unsure what to say, where to go, or what to do. He didn't understand. He couldn't, not until he saw for himself. As much as it hurt him to hear me say it, imagine what it would be like when it happened. Pretending wouldn't change the facts.

This world was no place for a child.