She sent him a small smile over her shoulder, glad that he knew it was a struggle. “We’re goin’ to have to pick up the pace. Let them know they can’t set a foot off this path. It gets very narrow up ahead and we’re goin’ to be crossin’ a couple of gator slides. A couple of miles into the interior we’ll be hittin’ very thin ground. There’re only a few spots thick enough to hold weight, so stay close and know where to put your feet. Forget the boat. I know exactly the locations we can spot it.”

She forced confidence into her voice when she didn’t feel it at all. She’d explored the swamps, it was true, and often at night. But she was relatively light in comparison to them and she’d been vigilantly watching for signs of alligators. Contrary to popular belief, alligators could not run fast on land, but they could lunge with lightning speed and in short bursts could move quickly enough.

She set a fast pace to begin with. The land along this first stretch was stable and if anyone misstepped, they would be safe. A mile or so ahead, the land thinned to a narrow strip. Either side of it one could easily fall through. Nevertheless, she refused to go any faster than she deemed was safe. She could feel their urgency, but she had no doubt she could beat the boat around the larger land masses by moving through the interior. Once away from the water’s edge, cypress groves and reeds, they would likely be away from the threat of alligators as well.

It was strange running in formation. She heard the pounding of her own heart as well as her breathing, and the only footsteps she heard were hers. The men picked up her exact rhythm, running in single file, feet hitting the ground in exact unison with each other and with her. After a while it made her want to vary her rhythm just to see if they would somehow anticipate her change-up.

Chiding herself for thinking childish thoughts, she scanned the ground ahead of her, using the strange night vision her leopard provided. She knew this area of the swamp inside and out, she’d practically spent her childhood here, searching for nests to photograph and often hiding from any adult who was silly enough to try to find her. She’d perfected her tracking skills all through this particular strip of land. She knew every hazard and where the gators liked to hang out. She knew the sounds and the warnings.