Stranded

fall over the side and disappear under water and out of sight. The river was too shallow.
    Otis rowed while Jack directed him around the fallen branches and tree stumps that appeared in the middle of the river. A snarl of tree roots appeared out of the fog like a sea creature with tentacles. It even startled Otis. Maggie tried to commit landmarks on the banks to memory, discouraged each time Jack directed Otis into another outlet from the main river.
    There seemed to be dozens of creeks and streams that forked off. Each one snaked and curved. Sometimes it looped around what appeared to be a dead end with a sandbar of sugar-white sand or a bank of red clay. Then Jack would point out yet another channel for Otis to take, one that was hardly visible beneath the overhanging branches and the tall reeds.
    The forest towered over them on both sides with very few clearings. Water lilies covered the surface of the water in some areas. Birds had quieted, either because of the approaching storm or the approaching madman. The sounds of the water swooshing under the oars would normally be soothing. Now it remindedMaggie that the farther they went, the farther away he was taking her from civilization.
    Otis asked questions, even more soft-spoken out here, as if paying reverence to nature or to Jack.
    “Why is the water so clear but it looks dirty, almost like weak tea?”
    “The water’s clean. It’s stained from the tannin in the tree bark.” Jack gestured to the bank, where huge trees grew halfway in the water, their roots sticking up like gnarled fingers.
    “The color’ll change depending on the depth of the water. Shallow is tea colored. A bit deeper, caramel. Deeper still, almost a cola. The deepest is black.”
    Otis nodded like he finally understood. “I get it—that’s why it’s called Blackwater River.”
    “Lots of creeks flow into Blackwater. We’re traveling several of them. Juniper, Coldwater. The first time my daddy brought me out here I knew it was the most fascinating and beautiful place I’d seen. I didn’t even mind when he started bringing me out and leaving me. Thought he was teaching me something.”
    Otis was nodding. He had his back to Maggie and Tully as he rowed. Jack sat at the bow of the boat with his body turned sideways so he could glance back at his prisoners but also up ahead so he could direct Otis.
    “This where he left you out all night?” Otis asked, gently, like he was coaxing a child.
    “A couple miles back. Tied me to a tree. Left me for the night. Middle of summer. Mosquitoes were a bitch. There was a thunderstorm, too. Magnificent display of Florida lightning. I told you about Florida being famous for its lightning, haven’t I?”
    “Most lightning strikes per year than anyplace else.”
    Maggie watched the two men. It was as though Otis had heard this story many times and his nods and questions were just another part of the telling.
    “But you weren’t scared,” Otis said.
    Jack stared off into the fog and continued, “My daddy told me it’d make a man of me. Staying out there like that. Finding my own way home. Guess he was right because two days later I slit his throat. Cut him into pieces in his own shed using his tools.”
    Maggie could only see Otis’s head bob again. With his hunched back to her, she couldn’t see his face. Jack’s expression remained unchanged. He didn’t flinch, didn’t break his gaze. And her panic started to claw around inside her.
    Tully stirred. Had he been listening? He sat slumped against her, eyes closed. He was conscious but his breathing was labored. Once in a while he winced when the boat bumped against something.
    Maggie had found a roll of paper towels on the floor of the boat, partially damp and water-stained. Surprisingly, Jack let her have the roll to stop Tully’s wound from bleeding, though she had no intention of pressing the musty-smelling paper against him. Instead, she pretended she was cleaning, her hand still smeared with Tully’s blood. It nagged at her that she couldn’t rip open his jacket and see how bad the wound was. She did know that if a major artery had been severed there would be much more blood. That was good news. Bad news was the longer it went unattended the more likely it would get infected.
    But there was another reason Maggie wanted the paper towels. She had been drenching them with as much blood as she could from her hand and from Tully’s windbreaker. She wiped Trooper Campos’s blood and