Finally she died, but even then he did not quit hitting her. When he was done, there was little left of Luanna to be recognized. Everything was covered with mud and blood from the random chunks of flesh torn in the fray. Her face was nearly gone, and what remained was blue or black. It was only afterwards that it dawned on me that she went by “Lu,” and I wondered if it was more than coincidence that women with this name could fight so hard.

Eventually Avery’s rage was satiated and Luanna’s hand was tied up in her own small cloth purse. Avery carried her to the same dark pool where he’d sunk her sister. I did not see Willa’s body, and I did not see any horrific, bloody-mouthed alligators, but I could not help but notice the ominous floating eyes lurking quite close.

III

Still, I followed.

Avery hiked with half-hopping steps between the trees, along a path he must have known well to walk so quickly. He was going deeper, farther back into the wettest lands that could still be called land and not a sinking stretch of mud. All the way I watched his back, swaying and dipping to dodge the low limbs and the softer patches of earth. A second bag hung at his side, jostled by his shifting hipbone, containing a second hand that leaked blood through the soft fabric, staining his pants in short pendulum swipes of russet brown.

One to go.

“No, no, no, no, no,” I murmured to myself, keeping time with Avery’s expertly stomping feet. He was getting ahead of me, but not by much. I knew what must happen next and I chanted against it, no, no, no, no, no, but all the prayerful begging in the world can’t change what has already passed. I’d like to say that nothing can, but a brief while ago I would have said that nothing could bring back the dead, and now my opinion on the matter was not nearly so certain as before.

I tailed Avery maybe half a mile to a wood-slat cabin, set on short stilts to keep it from sinking or flooding. Three crooked steps led up to a narrow porch and an open door that swung without a screen. Clattering, boiling sounds of cooking came from within, and a pungent, earthy odor steamed from the stovepipe chimney that leaned out from the wall. Avery kicked the excess mud and gore from his shoes against the bottom stair.

Avery? Mae called from within.

You got it all ready? He went up the steps and stood in the doorway for a minute before going in. He used the back of his foot to close the door.