Louisiana Backwater, Monday Morning
Jim scanned the swamp around him, trying to reorient himself. He had been so out of it the entire time he was in the swamp, finding the cabin he'd stayed at became doubly difficult. A grizzled old man had taken Jim and Blair out that morning to find the cabin, and so far they'd had no luck.
At least his senses were back to normal. Jim spent his time sweeping the swamp for human heartbeats, hoping that he could locate Merry and her mysterious father.
"Are you sure this is the right spot?" Sandburg asked.
"I only walked about three miles with MacGeorge," Jim said. "You found me twelve miles from town. Considering the tides, this should be the right area to look."
"Don't nobody live out here, though," their guide said. "Least not fer thirty years."
Before Jim could ask for an explanation, Blair said, "I see something."
Jim followed his partner's gaze and zeroed his sight in on the blackened remains of a cabin. His jaw dropped.
"Jesus," he muttered. "Over there!"
The old man cranked the motor and sped the small boat over. As the cabin came into full view, Jim stood up, unable to completely process what he saw.
The cabin was a burnt-out shell with no roof or front door. Most of the boardwalk had collapsed into the swamp. Native plants had taken root between the surviving boards and a sapling grew up from the center of the cabin.
"This was it," Jim said. "This was where I was."
"Ain't possible," the old man said. "This here was the Derkin's place. It done burned down a good twenty-five years ago. Legend is old Derkin came home from hunting and found his daughter with a local boy. Burned the cabin down with all three inside. Course, no one ever proved it. Just a local ghost story."
Jim's brow furrowed in disbelief. "What was the daughter's name?"
The man shrugged. "Marie, Mary, something like that."
"It can't be," Sandburg said. "Jim--"
"Let it go, Chief."
"But Jim--"
"Let it go."
Sandburg nodded. Here wasn't the place. Jim had no explanation for what had happened to him. But he knew that he was alive and for that, he was grateful.
"Let's go home, Chief," Jim said. "Where things are normal."
Sandburg snorted, then nodded.
The old man turned the motor and headed for Backstone. Jim watched the swamp rush by, realizing how much he would not miss this place. The swamp was a mysterious place to be. He caught a flash of red, possibly hair, from the corner of his eye. It was gone when Jim turned his head. Yes, he would be glad to leave the backwater behind.
Beautiful, but deadly.
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Stay tuned next week when an ex-student seeks Blair's help and a difference of opinion sends Sentinel and Guide investigating in opposite directions in "Divided We Fall" an all new The Sentinel.
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