Corey focused hard on the face of Delbert Kingsley. The moonlight shone brightly on the surface of the bog. Then Corey looked at the man who was trying to get across. The man was in it up to his waist. The moonlight showed something glistening in his hand. It was a gun. Corey quickly lowered himself under the aperture in the rock.

He crouched there and listened. He heard the man yelling to Kingsley, “It’s getting deeper—”

And Kingsley’s voice, “Keep going.”

“I can’t.”

“Don’t tell me that. Don’t tell me nothing. Keep going.”

“I’ll sink.”

“It ain’t all that deep.”

“It’s plenty deep. Keeps getting deeper.”

“You’re almost there.”

“It’s damn near up to my neck.”

“You’ll make it,” Kingsley shouted. “Just keep going.”

“It’s pullin’ at me,” the man yelled. “It’s draggin’ me down.”

Corey raised his head to venture another look through the gap in the rock. The man was less than six feet away from the rock. He was sinking slowly but still trying to move forward. He didn’t see Corey. His head was down as he strained with the effort of pushing himself against the viscous mass.

Gasping and grunting, the man looked up and saw Corey. But instead of pointing the gun he just stared with his eyes getting wider and wider. He was sinking.

“No,” the man said. “No, no. Please. No, no.” He went under.

Corey gazed at the green-gray surface of the quagmire. He looked across to the other side where Kingsley stood at the edge. Without sound, he said to Kingsley, well you lost that investment. You were using him for a decoy. You figure I still got the gun and you sent him in to draw fire so the gun would be empty when them others move in from the flanks. So what it amounts to, he was used and now he’s useless. That’s what bothers you. Just that and nothing more. You’re something, all right. You’re really a sweetheart.

Kingsley stood there studying the rock. He had a gun in his hand and he took a shot at the rock. Corey ducked under the gap. Kingsley used another bullet and it went through the gap and sliced air just a few inches above Corey’s head.

Corey crouched lower. Kingsley tried another shot and the slug screamed through the gap and smacked into a tree about twenty yards behind the rock. Corey turned his head slowly and looked in the direction of the tree. It appeared to be rooted in fairly solid ground but in order to get there he’d be gambling on the depth of the quagmire. He didn’t feel like taking that gamble.