One by one, Peyton clipped the gators free, wondering each time if he would have to shimmy up a pine tree to escape their powerful jaws. His palms were sweating at the thought of what he had to do next: free the monster gator that could easily swallow him in one bite. Slowly circling around behind it, Peyton could see that he could lie down on the ancient-looking creature’s back and still have its tail to spare. Its feet looked like a cross between a giant bird’s foot and a lion’s paw, and it had an odd scar shaped like a crescent moon right between its eyes. The alligator’s back was as high as Peyton’s waist, and he could see its sharp teeth peeking out from fearsome jaws, locked down at the moment but soon to be freed by his own hand.

As he tentatively approached its snout, the girl called out in a loud whisper, “Wait!” He stopped as she walked up to the imposing reptile and laid her hand on its back. “You made Daddy real proud, Le Roi. Safe journey to you. And remember what I told you—grocery store chickens ain’t native to the ’Glades, so if you see a bird in the water and it ain’t got no feathers on it, promise me you won’t bite it, okay? Well . . . I guess this is goodbye.”

Then she gave Peyton a nod. Amazed that his hands didn’t shake like crazy, he somehow managed to stay steady enough to slip the shears under the great alligator’s muzzle band and cut it in one swift, determined motion before jumping back as fast as he could. Le Roi stretched his jaws open wide, then turned his head just a little to the left, as if to acknowledge his liberator. Or maybe eat his liberator. But then he, like the others, followed the water’s call and stalked slowly to the river, swishing through the tall grass, no doubt bidding good riddance to all humanity with its muzzles and fences.

Peyton handed the shears back to the girl, who was wiping her eyes with the collar of her shirt. “I’d offer you a handkerchief if I had one, but I’m traveling kind o’ light,” he said.

“That’s okay.” She was sniffling and blotting her eyes.

“Listen, that new guy that bought the Gatorama—won’t he figure out who turned his stock loose?” Peyton asked.

She shook her head. “Our family don’t live here no more. Mama said the beach made her sad without Daddy, so she bought a marina on Okeechobee. She thinks I’m visitin’ my cousins in Fort Lauderdale. My truck’s parked in a pine thicket right up the road. You better get on outta here too. Say, I didn’t hear a truck or anything when you came up.”

“That’s ’cause I was on a bicycle,” Peyton said with a smile.

“You need a ride?”

“No, I’m good. Be careful going home.”

“You too,” she said. “And listen—thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You did a good thing.”