Leopard 05 - Savage Nature

wasn’t helping, raising the water table as inevitably as the tides did. Praying the men were as precise in their steps, she led them through a very narrow strip of hazards where one wrong step would take them under the thin crust to the water below.
    The men followed, slowly as she did, stepping one after another in the exact spot as the man in front of him. They watched the ground, trusting her to guide them through safely. In a way, it was somewhat exhilarating, even as the weight of the responsibility for their lives was crushing. This section of the swamp was honeycombed with thin spots and holes covered with tangles of vines where an unwary person could easily fall through. She’d mapped the way in her mind, but the chance of the ground eroding was always there.
    She breathed a sigh of relief as they came up on the edge of the cypress grove. She held up her hand and everyone stopped instantly. She waited a heartbeat, her eyes straining to see the small open space through the trees where in the distance a boat would sweep around the bend and could be seen for no more than a moment. She had timed the pace in her head, slowing down when needed to ensure the lives of the men in her care, but setting a fast enough tempo that they would be able to catch a glimpse of the boat and the direction it went.
    One second later, a blurring light blinked in the waterway, holding to her left. She knew, with a sinking heart, that the boat was traveling into the canal that led to the Tregre-Mercier swamps.
    “We’re heading into the reeds,” she whispered to Drake, knowing with their hearing the others would be able to heed her warning. “Stay close, but keep an eye out for gators. They’ll be in the water. We’re goin’ to move fast through here.”
    Her heart was pounding. She had a very healthy respect for alligators. She gripped her rifle and took the first step into the reed-choked water. The water went up to her thigh. She took a deep breath and kept moving steadily through the murky water, not fast, not slow, feeling her way with each step. Her night vision allowed her to see the dark loglike shapes lying in wait in the reeds and n the barrel roots from the cypress trees sticking out of the water.
    The tension stretched, and the men remained absolutely silent as they moved in unison through the treacherous water. She tasted fear in her mouth, but she refused to show it. These men were her responsibility and she wasn’t about to put them in danger by having a panic attack. She had failed to mention to Drake that stepping at night into murky water known to be filled with hungry, aggressive alligators terrified her. She made a note to herself to have that conversation with him at a later date.
    Saria felt a small branch roll under her foot and shifted her weight to catch herself from slipping. Drake steadied her, his fingers curling hard around her upper arm. She licked at her suddenly dry lips. The branch felt, for a moment, like a small alligator and set her pulse going through the roof. They were close to the shore again, which didn’t make her any happier. Alligators liked to hang out under the bank in the reeds.
    Swallowing her fear, she forced herself forward. Drake kept his hand on her arm, probably because he could feel her trembling. The moment she was on solid ground, she felt relief flooding her body. Her knees went weak, legs like rubber, but she took a couple of deep breaths and began to pick up the pace. They had an easy run and could make up speed once they got away from the bank.
    She set as fast a pace as she dared, running instead of jogging. They had to hit the other side of the swamp nearest the southern bank before the boat got around the land mass. The boat had to travel miles around the land while she and Drake’s team could cut through the swamp. They made up a lot of time. The vegetation was thick, but mostly tangled vines, trees and brush. The ground was solid until she reached the outer banks. She was shorter than the men and had to duck a few times, but they had to constantly avoid low-hanging branches, veils of moss and vines to keep from getting clothes-lined. Not one of them broke stride. She was beginning to realize these were men who saw a lot of action in many different environments and were afraid of very little.
    She ran fast in the rain, her footsteps kicking up mud and water as she raced along a narrow deer trail. She’d spent a lot of time in this part of the swamp capturing