SWAMP WITCH By Robert Cherny

A Club Lighthouse Publishing E-Book ISBN: 978-1-926839-61-5 All rights reserved Copyright 2011 Robert Cherny Cover Photo 2011 Robert Cherny This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission. This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. For information contact: comments@clublighthousepublishing.com
A Club Lighthouse Mainstream Fiction Edition
Published in Canada

SWAMP WITCH

Robert H. Cherny

CHAPTER ONE

HIDDEN IN THE THICK DEPTH of the swamp's vegetation, a woman surreptitiously

watched the men stealthily paddle a Jon boat in the stagnant water. They had long ago shut off the boat's noisy motor and tipped it up on the boats stern. The paddles made almost no sound as they pushed against the water. With the sun directly above them, heat radiated upwards from the ground as well as from overhead. An occasional bird call sharply broke the stillness. Random breezes ruffled the tops of the tall oak trees. On the ground, the merciless, motionless air was sticky, hot and damp. Her soft footfalls as silent as the swamp, the woman treaded gently on the sand and grasses that made up the berm beneath her feet. The berm had been built decades ago in a failed attempt to prepare the swamp for agriculture. The workers had been prisoners in the state's penal systems, little better than legal slaves. As she trod on the fruits of their labour, the woman occasionally felt the pain of those forced labourers so long ago. Decades of inattention had let the berm return almost to its natural state. Its height above the water provided a safe footpath. The woman was used to seeing poachers travel this waterway. In fact, she had even seen these particular poachers before. She recognized the man in the front and the one in the back of the small boat, except that there had only ever been two of them. This time there were three. The one in the centre was hunched over, looking down wearing a hoodie jacket that hid their face. The night had not been cold enough to justify the hoodie, and in this heat, it made no sense. The woman did not have a good feeling about this. Something in the carriage of the person in the middle of the boat told her this person did not want to be there and might even have been brought against their will. The woman knew she could get a better look at the boat's occupants from a vantage point further along the waterway. She stepped softly ahead to the hidden lookout. As the boat passed the shielded place, the person in the centre of the boat looked directly at her and made eye contact for the briefest of seconds before looking back down. The woman was stunned by what she saw. She put her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. The passenger in the middle was a girl and the girl was frightened. The woman followed the boat for another half mile. No one spoke. The paddles silently pushed against the still water. The swamp kept its secrets. The boat turned off the main stream into a tributary. One of the men said, Should be good hunting in here. Only need one big gator, the other said. It'll be here. The men gently paddled along the stream watching the water and the shoreline. They spotted a large alligator sleeping on the bank. The mid day heat made it lethargic. It would be slow moving and easy to trap. What the men did not see, but the woman did, was another alligator at 2

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least four feet longer than the one on the bank, slowly swimming behind the boat. Only its eyes, the tip of its nose and the ripples from its tail revealed its presence. The man in the front of the boat turned to the girl. Just like we talked. I'll get im movin'. You catch im with the noose. He handed her a long stick with a loop of rope on the end. He held a long pointed stick lightly in one hand. They stood up as the man in the back paddled the boat toward the sleeping alligator. The boat gently touched the bank and the man in the front got out, warily stepping around the alligator. The girl stood in the boat with the pole trembling in her hands. As the first man poked the drowsing alligator with his stick, the other man pushed the girl into the water. Choking back a shriek, the girl fell with a large splash into the water as the alligator spun on the man who had poked it and clamped on his leg. Hundreds of pounds of crushing force broke the bones like a toothpick. The man screamed in pain. With amazing speed, the alligator dragged the man into the water. With a grip capable of taking down a full grown bull, something as insubstantial as a two hundred pound human with a crushed leg did not have a chance. The spin was so violent that the alligator's tail flipped the small boat dumping its lone remaining occupant into the water. Seeing its opportunity, the alligator that had been patiently swimming behind the boat moved in to take its prey. The man who had been in the back of the boat did not even have time to cry out as the alligator pulled him under the water to begin its death spiral. The woman on the shore had anticipated much of this. Her mind had been racing with possibilities since she had observed the girl in the boat. When the first man poked the alligator, she had run down the bank into the water. Fording the shallow stream, brandishing a sharply pointed stick to fend off the alligators she could repulse, she grabbed the girl by the hair and dragged her back across the stream to dry land on the other side. The woman and the girl sat on the berm as the alligators settled to the bottom taking their prey with them. The overturned boat lay on the shore with its motor submerged and its contents spilled in the shallow water. Once the shock of what had happened wore off and the reality sank in, the girl began to cry. Whether it was grief or anger was hard to tell. The girl called the names of her father and grandfather. The woman let the girl cry until she could cry no longer. They're dead, the woman said when the girl finally quieted down. Nothing we can do will bring them back. The girl turned to the woman for the first time recognizing who had pulled her from the water and drew back in horror. You're the Swamp Witch! Don't kill me. She crab walked backwards. Stories the hunters brought back about a mysterious wild woman who lived in the swamp filled her mind with fear and gripped her heart. Why would I want to kill you? The girl met the womans eyes before saying, Because you kill trespassers?

SWAMP WITCH Did I kill your father? No. Did I kill your grandfather? No. Did you know them?

Robert H. Cherny

No, I don't, or rather didn't. You called their names enough for me to figure it out. You pulled me out. Yes. How? I walked in the water and grabbed you by the hair. Sorry if I hurt you. The girl put her hand to her head, A little. You saved my life. Why? I'm not sure I have an answer. The bigger question is what do I do with you now that I have you. You gonna kill me? The woman laughed. Why would I kill you after I saved you from the alligators? The girl eyed the woman suspiciously. Why save me? Didn't seem right, somehow, to let you die with them. Especially since the one in the back, I guess that was your father, pushed you in. Didn't. Yes, he did, the woman nodded. He grabbed the end of the pole you had in your hands and pushed. Why would he want to kill you? Didn't. The woman sighed. Yes, he did. Think about it. He wanted you dead, and he did not want evidence left behind. Alligators are extremely good at disposing of incriminating bodies. Not true. Why would they want to kill you? Do you have a lot of money coming to you? Did you win the lottery? No. Why, then? Don't know.

SWAMP WITCH Can you walk? Yeah. We have a long walk before the rains come. Where are we going?

Robert H. Cherny

Someplace safe, but it's a long walk and we have to get you out of those wet shoes as soon as we can so your feet don't blister. Okay. The woman stood and helped the girl to her feet. They brushed themselves off and appraised each other warily. Sweetheart, what's your name? Heather. I don't need your last name. I need to know what to call you so that if something jumps out of the bush at you, I can get you to move out of the way. Okay, whats yours? Witch. Witch? Not really, but you can call me that and I will answer. It's better you not know my name. Why? It's a secret. Heather dutifully trailed behind as they walked on top of the berm alongside the remains of what had once been an irrigation channel. The path had been well worn by deer and other animals that preferred to stay out of the reach of the alligators in the water. Witch walked silently on the soft earth. Heather's wet shoes squeaked with every step. Heather knew better than to complain. She had almost died and this woman could have just as easily left her instead of risking her own life to pull her away from the alligators. Heather wondered what would drive a woman to choose a life hidden in the swamp. Witch was dressed for the part. Her clothes were made from deer skin. Her long black hair was pulled back off her neck and swung as she walked keeping the flies and mosquitoes away. Her skin was tanned to a brown that was almost as dark as the deer skin. Her moccasins were also made of deer skin, but the soles appeared to be a harder material, but still, she left no footprints. The prints from Heathers running shoes were as easy to track as if she had sprayed a line of orange paint to mark her trail. Even though she was glad to be alive, Heather worried what lay ahead. If, as Witch said, her 5

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father had intended to throw her to the alligators, who else at home might have been in on it? As she thought about who her fathers buddies were, she wondered if she could even trust the police. There were too many secrets around her house for her to rule anyone out. Her fathers new girlfriend was definitely suspect. After a mile of walking, Witch pointed to an opening in the vegetation on the opposite side of the berm from the channel. Heather followed down the slope to find a green plastic kayak gently floating tied to a tree. Heather did not need to be told to get in the front. Witch climbed in behind her. My home is completely surrounded by water, Witch answered the question Heather would have asked if she had thought about it sooner. Good idea, Heather said. Im glad you approve. Not my place to approve. Island home makes sense. Keeps critters away. Mostly. Its the two legged critters that worry me. The alligators keep them away. Heather picked up the paddle that lay in the center of the boat. Why two paddles? In case I lose one and the boat came with two. Which way? Witch pointed and Heather dug her paddle deep into the water with a strong, sure stroke that demonstrated she had done this before, many times before. Witch smiled. She had underestimated Heather. They paddled though the swamp to a rise anchored in place against the flowing water by three giant oak trees. The space between their massive trunks was protected from the wind and rain by their canopies. In that space Witch had built her home. Heather took it all in as they approached the shore. The roof of the little house, or shack or shelter or whatever it was, was made from an overturned Jon boat. Thatched walls protected the insides from the elements. Since it was late spring, the night cold would not be an issue for them, but the rain, due any moment, would be. Heather noticed that the boat was tipped so that the rain ran toward the front of the boat where it was collected in a barrel. That answered one question she had thought about. Camouflage netting covered the area between the trees and extended to the ground all around the camp site. A silt fence of the type used for highway construction to keep the sand out of the drainage ditches marked the perimeter. Heather surmised that the enclosure was protection not only from raccoons and other small animals but from observation from above. Heather and Witch pulled the kayak out of the water. Be it ever so humble, theres no place like home. Your first visitor? Witch smiled. Yes, you are my first invited guest. 6

SWAMP WITCH Others, not invited? They never even got close. Oh. Are you hungry? Thirsty.

Robert H. Cherny

Witch picked up an old tin can and walked to a contraption sitting away from the house at the edge of the clearing. A small flame burned under the base. Moonshine? Distilled water. Even the rain water around here could carry things we should not be drinking. Maybe its a little crazy of me, but I distil all my water, even the rain water. Rain water is clean. Not always. Heather shrugged. Okay. She took the offered tin filled with water from the still. No taste. Pure water has no taste, no odour and is perfectly clear. I know that in city water systems they put in chlorine and fluorides to keep people healthy, but out here the only water I know is safe to drink is what comes out of that monstrosity. I see. Heather, most young women your age would be bursting with questions, chattering up a storm. You dont talk much. Why is that? Heather blinked. For a moment she appeared ready to cry. Talk hurts. She pulled back the collar of her khaki hunter's vest to reveal a scar that ran from under her ear to her collar bone. How did that happen? After my mother died, Dad got drunk. Tried to rape me. Cut me when I fought back. Thats one hell of a family you got there. Had. Mother dead. Father dead. Grandfather dead. Grandmother run off. Brother killed. Mercenary in Iraq. Do you have anything to go home to? Farm mine, Heather said with pride. Grandmothers will left it to me. I take it this is the other grandmother, not the one that ran off? Yeah, mothers mother. 7

SWAMP WITCH Witch sighed. What a mess. Heather nodded. What happens if you do not go back? Dont know. How old are you? Eighteen day after tomorrow.

Robert H. Cherny

Witch shook her head. Were going to get you back to civilization so you can claim your farm, because if you dont someone will steal it from you. Cant stay here? Safe here with you. No. You wont be any safer here than you would be there. Heather looked up. Raining. Witch led Heather into the shelter. No sooner had they closed the flap behind themselves than the heavy rain started. Lighting cracked all around them, but they stayed protected by the oak trees and the aluminium boat over their heads. Heather was surprised by the small shelters contents. The army style folding cot she expected, but the tall book case that held up the back end of the boat was a surprise. She walked directly to it. The boat that made up the roof was high enough that she could stand easily without stooping. She pulled a book from the shelf and read its cover out loud. Native Medicinal Plants. She pulled another. Edible Wild Flowers. She pulled another. Hunting for Survival. She flipped through the pages of several books. She scanned the bindings on the books. No magic. Heathers brow furrowed in confusion. Why no magic? Because, in spite of what the ignorant fool hunters who wander through here would have you believe, I am not a witch. No magic? There is no such thing as magic. There is only hard work. Heather shook her head. Not true. Oh, there is the magic in a young girls heart when the music is groovy. You tease me! Yes, I did. You told me to call you Witch. Why? Because thats what you wanted to believe.

SWAMP WITCH

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Heather sat on the cot and looked at the books. No magic. Hard work. Books. Why here? Lets just say that when I knew I had to go into hiding, I had time to make preparations. As they say, luck favours the prepared. I had the time and the money to improve my chances of survival. If I hadnt prepared, I would have died. As it was, I almost did die a couple of times. The first six months out here were horrible. Until I learned to understand the noises the animals make, I was afraid all the time. Now, they tell me when danger is near. Animals talk to you? No, they talk to each other. Mostly they talk to others of their own kind. If you pay attention, you can hear the differences in their calls. Thats how I knew you were coming. Listening to birds? And that really loud boat motor. Too loud. Are you hungry, now? Yeah. Witch opened the lid on what had once been the box on the back of a pickup truck. It was buried in the dirt so it was out of sight except for the very top which was bolted shut. Why buried? Makes it harder for the bears to smell it. Work? Mostly. Why do you hide? Its a long story. Not better to confront your enemy? No, this is safer. Here, take this. Meat, starch and veggies. A balanced meal. Heather looked at the smoked piece of meat, the raw root and the raw greens and shuddered. Rattlesnake. Would you rather alligator tail? No, thank you. I will eat and be happy. Heather tore off a piece of the rattlesnake meat and chewed it slowly. She drank from her tin as she ate the meat. Does it hurt to eat, too? Witch asked. 9

SWAMP WITCH Yeah. Im sorry. Not your fault. I know, I wish I had something softer for you to eat. Heather smiled. No worries.

Robert H. Cherny

Heather and Witch ate in silence listening to the rain pour on to the leafy canopy overhead safe and dry by the light of a single candle under the boat that formed their roof. Witch spread some old blue FEMA tarps on the floor and stretched out. Heather lay down on the cot and fell asleep.

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CHAPTER TWO

HEATHER SHOOK WITCH AWAKE as mottled daylight slowly found its way through
the thick canopy of leaves overhead catching the soft haze to create diffuse moving shafts of light painting a delicate shifting moir pattern of light and dark on the ground. Raccoon in trap, Heather said. Witch rolled over and sat up stiff from having spent the night on the tarps on the ground. She looked at Heather for a moment while she remembered why this strange person was in her bed. Oh, you're still here. I thought it was a dream. Not a dream. Nowhere to go. Witch yawned. yesterday. I remember, now. Are you feeling better? You were pretty upset

Yeah. Raccoon in trap. How do you know that? Smell it. Female raccoon. Witch paused, not quite believing that Heather could smell the raccoon. In the back of her mind she held a less probable, but, to her way of thinking, more likely, answer. Yes, well, male or female, raccoons are varmints. We need to kill this one before it takes all our food. Babies! The babies will be food for the eagles or the hawks. NO! Yes. If we don't kill it, it will destroy all our food. That's the way it is out here. It's too dangerous to let it live or keep it for a pet even if we did have a way to feed it. I'll be right back. Witch stood and put her hunting knife in the back of her belt. Heather stood and meekly said, I come. Suit yourself. Witch strode toward the trap. The raccoon looked up at her in fear. It made small chittering noises as Witch approached. Today is not your lucky day, Witch said to the trembling raccoon. With her left hand, she grabbed the raccoon by the back of its neck. With her right, she slit its throat with her hunting knife. The raccoon struggled for a moment before becoming still. Witch freed the raccoon from 11

SWAMP WITCH the trap and carried it to the stump she used for dressing dead animals. Raccoon for dinner?

Robert H. Cherny

Not for us, Witch replied. This is not going to be pretty. There's an alligator that's been getting too close for comfort. This raccoon will help us deal with him once and for all. How? Pyrotechnics are a wonderful thing if you know how to use them. Witch left the raccoon's body on the stump and went into the shelter. She came back with a cardboard box and a fist full of shotgun shells. She took a small tin can and emptied the shot gun pellets and powder into the can. She carefully took a small object that looked kind of like a ladybug with two long wires coming off it from a small waterproof box. What is that? Heather asked. Some people call it a 'squib' but it's really an electric match. If you touch the wires to a battery it will explode with enough power to set off the gunpowder. Witch wired the match leads to the end of a spool of plastic coated wire of the type usually used in table lamps. She placed the match inside the can and secured the can with string. She cut open the raccoon, removed enough of its viscera to make room for the can and put the can inside. She tied up the raccoon's body with string. She secured the wire to one of the dead raccoon's legs. She took the raccoon carcass and impaled it on a long stick. She carefully placed the stick with the carcass at the edge of the water trailing the wire back to the shore. Now we wait, Witch said. It's early enough in the day that the alligators are still moving around. This one has usually shown up after breakfast so it should be here any time. Witch sat on one end of the overturned kayak and motioned for Heather to sit on the other end. They listened to the swamp noises to see if anything would alert them to the presence of the alligator. After about fifteen minutes of waiting, a large alligator swam by the bait. That's our boy, Witch said. See the scar behind his right eye? That's him. We'll get several dinners out of him. The alligator swam slowly by again. Witch tugged on the wire to make the raccoon carcass move slightly as if it was swimming. Heather put her hand over her mouth in fear. The alligator eyed the raccoon and Witch tugged it slightly toward shore. Heather had been around alligators all her life, but even so, she was not prepared for the speed with which this monster took the raccoon nor was she prepared for the sureness of Witchs reaction. Witch made the contact on the battery the second she was sure the alligator had swallowed the bait. The resulting explosion lifted the alligator out of the water as the gun powder and pellets ripped a hole in its soft underside. Heather screamed as much with the shock of the sound as with the sight of the alligator coming up out of the water. When the alligator landed back down, she realized that she had been 12

SWAMP WITCH holding her breath. Witch let her breath out slowly. Wow, it worked. Heather looked at Witch in shock. First time?

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Witch nodded. She looked at the alligator. Even though it was dead, some of its nerves continued to fire and it twitched in the water. They would wait until it lay completely still before trying to drag it out of the water. An inopportune twitch with one of those claws could be quite painful. Where idea? Where did I get the idea for this little stunt? Heather nodded. You know what a 'bang stick' is? Heather nodded. Do you know how it works? Heather shook her head. A bang stick is a tube with a shotgun shell stuck in one end. When you punch the end of the shell between an alligator's eyes, it forces the shell onto a pin that fires the shell sending the shot into the alligator's head. The shot enters the alligator's brain in one of the few soft spots on its body where such a shot could harm it. It's usually quite efficient at killing its target, but it means getting up closer and more personal with a big alligator than I am comfortable with. I don't have a problem sneaking up behind a four to six footer, grabbing its mouth with one hand and slitting its throat with the other, but this guy looks to be all of fourteen feet. I didn't think tangling with him was a good idea. He was getting too close for comfort so I had to kill him. He's stopped twitching. Let's get him out of the water. Even with ropes, the alligator was too heavy to drag out of the water. After a half hour of fighting with the carcass, they stopped to re-think what they were doing. The force of the explosion had scared away most of the animals that could be a threat, but still they did not have time to dawdle. They turned the alligator sideways to the bank and using branches for levers, rolled the alligator up the bank and into the space between the trees. Once the alligator was on the flat ground far enough away from the water that the alligators in the water would not approach it, Witch turned to Heather. Thank you. Now we're even. How so? I saved your life and now you have helped save mine. I could not have pulled this monster out of the water by myself. If it had stayed there other alligators would have come and quickly found my camp. If not the alligators, then the bears. I realize now that killing the alligator that way was extremely foolish. If you had not been here I might have been fighting for my life very 13

SWAMP WITCH soon.

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Heather smiled, held out her hand and said, Even. When Witch took it, Heather pulled her close and said, Friends? Witch smiled and said, Friends. Heather stood over the alligator and said, Clean. Good eating. Witch handed Heather the hunting knife. Heather checked the knifes edge and began to work. Witch had gutted and cleaned smaller alligators, but had never attacked anything this size. Witch guessed that with her father being a poacher, Heather had been exposed to things normal people never see. They lit torches as darkness fell to keep nocturnal predators at bay. Stopping only to drink from the rain water still, they worked through the night cleaning and cutting up the alligator carcass. By morning, those parts that they could preserve by smoking were being smoked. The hide was hung up to dry and a pile of pieces they could not use remained off to one side. Witch would have enough meat to last her for several weeks. With the coming of dawn, Witch suggested that Heather lie down and sleep. They would take turns sleeping and watching the fires for the next few days. By the end of the day after they killed the alligator, the smell from the pile of offal was more than they could stand. They kept some for bait, but the rest they wrapped in a tarp and dragged to the water. That night, in the semi darkness of the half moon, they paddled out to a lake over a mile from their camp and emptied the tarp into the centre of the lake. They paddled away as quickly as they could, knowing that a feeding frenzy would develop around the remains of the alligator they had thrown in the water. They could see the water begin to churn as the fish went after the bounty and knew that a rapid escape was the best plan. They returned to the shelter and resumed their vigils by the fires. As dawn broke on the fourth day after they had killed the alligator, Heather shook Witch awake. Black bear, female, two cubs. She pointed at one of the trees as if the bear was behind it. How did you know it was here? Witch asked sceptically. Heather shrugged. Smelled it. Hungry. Dangerous. Witch regarded Heather for a moment. There was no way she had smelled that bear. What little wind there was blew in the wrong direction. While she appreciated the warning, Witch suspected that Heather had secrets of her own that might or might not be revealed during her visit. As Heather and Witch watched nervously, the bear and her cubs circled the site. Apparently put off by the flickering light of the torches that had been put around the area to keep animals like them away, they swam back across to the bank on the other side of the stream. Need gun. I have a gun and a rifle. Black bears are endangered. I don't want to shoot one if I don't 14

SWAMP WITCH have to. Black bears dangerous. I know. All bears are dangerous. Heather sighed. Witch? Yes? I need to go home, and take the farm.

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I wondered how long it would take you to make that decision. I am glad you stayed as long as you did. We will go at moonrise. I can leave you where you will be found safely. Heather spent the day helping Witch clean the camp site. When the moon rose, they climbed into the kayak and silently paddled upstream. After an hour of paddling, they arrived at a flood control gate. They pulled the kayak up to the bank. There is an access road that leads from here to the highway. You can expect to see a Highway Patrol officer every twenty minutes to half hour. Flag one down. I trust you will know what to do from there. I owe you my life. We're even. Go, you have work to do. Heather climbed the bank. Even in the darkness, Witch could see the tears in Heather's eyes as she turned toward the sound of the highway less than half a mile away. Heather followed the access road to the highway. The gate in the fence at the end of the road was broken and she easily climbed through it. She crossed the drainage ditch and looked for a place on the median where she could see traffic in both directions. Not long after crossing the highway, she spotted a highway patrol car in the far lane. She stepped out to the shoulder and waved her arms over her head to get the officer's attention. The patrol car skidded to a stop. Heather stood with her hands away from her body while the officer climbed out of the car. Heather stood in the light from the car's headlights where she could plainly be seen. Heather was happy to see that the officer was a woman. The fact that she was black automatically meant that she could not possibly be in on whatever her racist father might have planned. The officer's close cropped hair and military bearing provided further assurance that this person was who Heather needed. If, as Heather suspected, law enforcement officers had conspired with her father, this strong black female Highway Patrol officer was not one of them. Hi, Im Heather Barton. People are looking for me. Do you have ID, miss? Plastic pouch inside vest pocket. I will reach slowly. Keeping her eyes on the officer,

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Heather dug out the pouch. A little water had gotten inside, but her driver license was intact. She slowly opened the pouch and passed the license to the officer. The officer checked the license. Stay there. The officer climbed into her car and checked the license picture against the computer. She called in for instructions. She climbed out of the car. Miss, are you hurt? No. I am to take you to the hospital emergency room. Are you good with that? Yes. The officer opened the rear door and Heather climbed in. The officer climbed into the front. Miss, are you okay? Thirsty, tired, hungry, bug bit, sweaty, smelly, nasty. The officer laughed. She passed a bottle of water back to Heather. I can help with part of that. Thanks. We have a long ride. I know. At the hospital, will you stay with me? The officer looked at Heather in the mirror. Why? Father tried to kill me. I need protection. Are you sure? Yes. Don't call it in. We will talk to a detective at the hospital. The officer took a deep breath. Okay. Heather sat back and closed her eyes. They rode the rest of the way in silence. When Heather climbed out of the car at the hospital she grabbed the officer's arm. Stay with me! I got it. They walked through the emergency entrance with Heather firmly gripping the officer's arm. One of the orderlies addressed them. Officer Castle, you can release her to us. Heather shouted, NO! in the man's face. SHE STAYS WITH ME!

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SWAMP WITCH Why? the orderly asked, stepping back. Protect me. The orderly rolled his eyes. If you wish. See the nurse over there.

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After filling out the required paperwork, they went back to an examining room. A doctor entered the room and asked Heather about her condition as he checked her vitals and looked for obvious injuries. For someone who has been lost in the swamp for a week, you are in surprisingly good shape, the doctor said. I know the swamp. I eat the right plants. Lick dew off leaves. Not hard. Walk slow. The doctor shrugged. I would probably have died out there. I almost did. I'm sure the police have questions for you. Should I have them come in? Okay. When the detective entered the exam room Heather eyed him and said, State or county? County, the detective answered. Out! Talk to state, not county, Heather shouted. beseechingly. Please only state detective. I'll get you one. Officer Castle stood to leave. No, stay, call on radio, please. Officer Castle relayed the request to her duty officer. Officer Castle, what is your first name? Twyla. Twyla, thanks for staying with me. I am afraid. Heather was asleep in the chair when the door opened and a tall black Highway Patrol officer stepped into the room. Heather Barton, this is my brother Trey. Trey, you have a good sister. Yeah, we're kind of fond of her. Captain said I might be able to help. You a detective? Not yet, I'm studying for the test. I think in another year I'll qualify. She looked at Officer Castle

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SWAMP WITCH Hope you get it. Can you stay? If you want me to. Please.

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The door opened and a middle aged man entered. Miss Barton, I am Detective John Martin, Department of Drugs, Tobacco, Alcohol and Firearms. Thank you, Detective. I will talk now. Has anyone read you your rights? Am I under arrest? No, but anything you say to a law enforcement officer can be used against you in court. Read my rights, please. Detective Martin read Heather her rights. Detective Martin, my father tried to kill me. He pushed me in the water. Gator got him. Gator got my grandfather. I ran away. Where Officer Castle picked you up is thirty miles from where we found your father's truck. You could not have walked all that. There is too much water and it is too deep. We rode long time in the boat. Maybe fifteen, twenty miles. Not so far for the rest. Miracles happen when youre scared. I suppose. Can you prove you did not kill them? No, I didn't kill them. They tried to kill me. Can you find the place where you fell in the water? Heather shook her head. Miss Barton, please tell me what you can about what happened between the time you left the boat ramp until Officer Castle picked you up. Heather explained in as much detail as she could remember everything that occurred up until the point where she found herself in the water with the alligators. Then, repeating the story she had carefully constructed as she walked to the highway, she described frantically clawing her way across the stream, and climbing to the top of the berm where she must have passed out. She described seeing the faint glow of the lights from the highway in the distance and when the wind blew in the right direction she could hear the singing of the big truck tires on the pavement. With the position of the sun to guide her in the day and the sounds and lights of the highway to guide her at night, she crossed the swamp. She explained how she licked the dew off the leaves of plants for water and ate plants she knew to be safe. She described climbing trees to sleep during the day and moving around at dusk, dawn and when there was enough moonlight for her to walk 18

SWAMP WITCH safely.

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When Heather was finished, Detective Martin, obviously impressed, said, Miss Barton, would you like to go home? Yes, please. Officer Castle, please take her home. Certainly, sir. I still don't know how you survived in that swamp. Men go in there all the time and never come out. I don't understand. I wanted to live. Miss Barton, do you mind if I have Officer Castle check on you from time to time? Come for dinner? I make great gator tail. Officer Castle smiled, Yeah, I'd like that. Heather said, Trey can come, too. Trey said, Cool. Detective Martin smiled. He wasn't a homicide investigator and this was being treated as a potential homicide. Still, there were other aspects to this case that interested him. There were reasons he conducted the first interview. He had done as he was asked. He would turn what he learned over to the specialists and let them deal with the homicide investigation. He would stay with this case for a long time which was what he intended to do when he first got the call. Detective Martin left the room first and stopped in the lobby to chat with one of the officers waiting for him. Heather left the room with Officer Castle and Trey not far behind. Heather had barely entered the waiting area when a woman ran screaming across the big open room and slammed both her fists into Heather's chest. NO-O-O! You were supposed to die! He was supposed to live! Half a dozen law enforcement officers and a local news crew heard the outburst. Detective Martin was at Heather's side as Trey slapped a set of cuffs on Heather's assailant. Who is she? Trey asked. Dad's new girlfriend. She is the reason he killed my mom. She wanted the farm. Police called it an accident. The media firestorm over the incident in the hospital lobby lasted two days. The ambulance chaser news crew that had been listening to the police scanner and were on the scene to catch the confrontation and subsequent arrest had the story on the morning news. By that evening all the local stations carried it. Heather hid behind her two new Highway Patrol friends. Detective 19

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Martin ran interference for her. The only questions that Heather answered were that she was not under arrest and she had asked for protection and she was grateful for the officers care and th at she had survived the week in the swamp because she knew what she was doing in that environment and that it was not something she intended to do again. The states district attorney essentially ended interest in the story when he announced that rather than prosecute Heathers alleged assailant on assault charges, he had extradited her to another state on a previous warrant for felony fraud. He publicly admitted that he doubted he could make other charges into the deaths stick since he had no bodies, no weapons and no motives other than alleged self defence. Therefore, he was dropping the case. He had more effective ways to use his limited budget.

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CHAPTER THREE

WITH THE HELP OF THE ATTORNEY Heathers grandmother had used to draw up her
will and not the one her father had used to contest it, Heathers inheritance case came before the court quickly. A judge ruled that under the terms of her grandmothers will, which had not been finalized due to the contests, at least for the interim, since Heather was of age to inherit the farm from her deceased mother, it became hers and, given the non-appearance of challengers, the contests were moot. All other materials on the property were hers. If her father reappeared to claim what was his, and face a possible charge of attempted murder, those items that belonged to him or the money derived from their sale would revert to him. Heather returned to the house and began planning how she would undo the damage her father had done mismanaging the farm so she could return it to productivity. Trey and a couple of his buddies helped haul out her fathers collection of guns and gun cabinets. They introduced her to a reputable gun dealer who handled the sales and took care of all the required documentation. Heather kept only one pistol for herself. The sale of her fathers and grandfathers possessions including the pontoon boat and the big dualie pickup truck that hauled it, guns and anything else they owned that she could sell or pawn brought in enough money that she could live until she could bring in a cash crop. Heather solicited the advice of the county agricultural agent. The agent spent a full day with Heather discussing what crops to plant and which of the many pieces of equipment in the barn to keep and which to sell. They agreed that even though it was late in the season, she should have time get a planting of corn to harvest before the cold set in. It would be a late harvest and not as profitable as if she had planted earlier, but given the equipment in the barn and the condition of the available land, corn made the most sense. Heather drove what had been her mothers pickup truck, which she had driven since her sixteenth birthday when her father gave it to her following her mothers death, to the farm supply store to buy the seed. Dylan Hunter, who had gone through school with her, and who worked at the store, helped her load the big seed bags into the truck. Heather, do you need help unloading this? Heather smiled. No, thanks. She held up her arm and made a muscle pose. Strong like bull, she teased in a deep voice. Dylan laughed. Heather, your father said that if I ever talked to you he would kill me. Now that hes gone, I, uh, well, Ive liked you since you beat me up in the third grade. Long time ago. I know. Would you go out with me? Can I pick you up Saturday after work and we can go for burgers and a movie? Why? 21

SWAMP WITCH You make me feel special. I dont know. I feel good around you. What time are you off? Six. Heather scanned his solid muscles and asked, You work out? Yes. Does the gym have a pool? Yes. Heather smiled. Meet here. Swim, burgers, movie. Dylan tried to hide his surprise but failed. Yeah, see you Saturday.

Robert H. Cherny

As Heather started her truck, one of Dylans co-workers clapped him on the shoulder and said, Did I hear you score a date with Heather Barton? Yeah, Dylan said with a mixture of pride and disbelief. He slapped Dylan a high five and said You de MAN! and laughed as they headed back inside. The sight of a Highway Patrol cruiser in Heathers driveway was so common that the neighbours no longer thought it odd. Charley and Mabel, the elderly couple whose citrus farm bordered Heathers, sort of adopted her since they had no children of their own. At the bottom of the real-estate bust, they had spent their life savings to buy and resurrect the citrus farm. They had just turned a profit for the first time and were happy with their progress. They were supportive of Heathers plan to farm her property. Heather, Charley, Mabel, Trey and Twyla enjoyed their evenings spent together chatting on Heather's front porch. Heather was often seen in town shopping for tools and materials she needed to repair the house, the barn or some piece of machinery. If there was any gossip, it was about how well she was doing all the way out there all by herself. Heathers date with Dylan went well. She swam a half mile worth of laps and challenged him to keep up, which he did. They drove themselves to the mall with the movie theatre and had burgers in a little place a few doors down from the theatre. After the movie, a forgettable comedy that had them laughing the whole time, Dylan walked Heather to her truck. I had a great time tonight. I hope you did, too, Dylan said. Me, too. Same next Saturday? Yeah, sure, Dylan stammered. Heather leaned forward to give him a kiss and a spark jumped between their lips. Dylan twitched with the shock. Heather smiled and completed the kiss. Saturday, she said.

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One morning during the next week, the news crew that had been in the hospital pulled their truck into Heathers driveway. She had known they would come some day, but she was not looking forward to their questions. She met them on the front porch. Hello, Miss Barton. We wondered if you minded if we interviewed you for a follow up piece on your story. Okay, on the porch. The cameraman placed one camera on a tripod and carried a second. Miss Barton, how did you survive a week in the swamp all by yourself? Heather looked the reporter in the eye and decided not to answer his question. She pulled open the collar of her heavy work shirt and pointed to the scar running from under her ear to her collar bone. See this? YES. Father got drunk. Tried to rape me. Cut me when I fought. Hurts to talk. I am a survivor. The camera man zoomed in on the scar on Heathers neck which clearly showed tracks of clumsily applied stitches. Is that why you killed him? I did not kill him. He tried to kill me. Get off my property. Im sorry. That was out of line. Can we go back? Okay. Lots of experts we talk to say you could not have survived for a week in that swamp and get from where the boat launched to where you were picked up without help. Did you have help? No. There have been rumours about a mysterious woman that inhabits that part of the swamp called the Swamp Witch. Did you see her? Heathers face flushed with anger. Get off my property. Heather pushed the reporter out of the way, went in the house and slammed the door. The reporter helped the cameraman pack his gear. When they were almost done, the cameraman said, Did you see the look on her face when you asked about the witch? Shes seen her and she aint talking. Wouldnt it be something if we found her? If we survived. 23

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The reporter and cameraman spent two weeks in the swamp tracing back from where Heather had been picked up and found nothing. When they returned to civilization, they were fired for neglecting their other duties. Heather planted a vegetable garden next to the house. She had intended it for her own use, but when it produced more than she needed, she bought a space at the local farmers market and sold what she did not need. She bought a membership in the same gym that Dylan belonged to and every Saturday night when he got off work, she was already in the pool waiting for him. Every Saturday they swam, played in the pool, had burgers, saw a movie and ended the evening with an electric kiss. Dylan bluntly refused to answer any questions about his relationship with Heather. All he would say was that she was the best thing that could have ever happened to him, and he did not want to jinx it by talking about it. They had been seen together playing in the pool and laughing over dinner and at the movies enough that they were not a secret, but the details were no ones business but his own. As the time approached to harvest the corn, Heather attempted to assemble the corn harvesting equipment in the barn. After two days, she gave up. That Saturday, after the movie, Heather said, Dylan, the harvester is broke. Can you fix it? I dont know. I could look at it. When are you off this week? Im off Monday and Tuesday. Come Sunday after work. Stay over. Well fix the harvester. Really? What do I tell my parents? Not my problem. Youre too old to still live with parents. Dylan blushed. They kissed and went their separate ways. After much hesitation and a few false starts, Dylan told his parents the truth. They were fine with it. As long as he didnt bring them a grand baby out of wedlock, he was free to do as he pleased. They appreciated his honesty. When Dylan arrived Sunday evening, Heather had set dinner on the porch. With the exception of the baked chicken she had cut up into the salad, everything had come from her garden. Even the tea was made from herbs she had grown in small window boxes. After dinner, Heather took Dylan out to the barn and showed him the harvester. Dylan inspected it carefully. Youre missing a couple of belts and you have this on upside down. Thats hard to do. How did you do that? Didnt have instructions. I see that. Dylan looked over the harvester again and said, You know, there is something 24

SWAMP WITCH we need to think about. Okay?

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When we show up together in your truck to buy parts, people are going to talk about us. Heather shrugged. Not my problem. You dont mind being seen with me? Why? Why do I care? I dont know, your family is ranchers and my family is... Not important. Dylan stepped back with the power of Heathers declaration. You and me, that is all that is important, Heather said strongly. Dylan took a deep breath, Ho-kay, I get it. Its just you and me. Nobody else matters. Right. We will go to the house now. We will buy the parts early, and work a long day. When they returned to the house, Heather pointed to the room her grandfather had used. Sleep there. She pointed to her room. I sleep here. Bathroom there. The kiss was electric as usual and they headed off to bed. Dylan had been right about what the rumour mill would do when he showed up with Heather at the farm equipment dealer to buy the parts, but even he was not prepared for its speed. They had three stores to visit and by the time they arrived at the third store, the gossips had them married already. Dylan was flattered by the attention. Heather was mildly annoyed. They spent Monday and Tuesday repairing the harvester and other equipment they would need to bring in the harvest. When Dylan left Tuesday evening to go home, he did not want to go, but Heather made it clear that she was not ready to share her house with anyone, not yet. They agreed to meet again on Saturday for their usual Saturday date night out. That Saturday, after the movie, Heather said, We need to harvest the corn this week. I contracted a trucker. Can you bring buddies to help? They can stay over. Yeah, sure, how many? Four? Four plus me. Yes. Come Sunday night. Work Monday, Tuesday. Sure. Dylan chose his workers carefully. By the end of the day Tuesday, all the corn had been 25

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harvested and sent to market. The farm was not so large that they worked that hard, but it was enough that the days were long and Heather paid them well. She fed them and cared for them. The word that would get back to the rumour mill was that Dylan had himself a winner. When the checks came in from the buyers, Heather had made a tidy profit and could start to think about what she would plant in the spring. She did not have the confidence to attempt a winter crop so she ploughed under the remains of the corn stalks to let the land lie until the weather warmed again. In the meantime, she had things she needed to do. Heather invited Trey and Twyla for dinner. She had not seen them for a while and she needed their help. Can you trace a boat registration? Heather asked after dinner. Do you have a registration number and you want to know who owns it? Trey asked. Yes. I suppose we could, Twyla offered. Heather handed them a piece of paper. Registration expired three years ago. The next evening, Trey showed up unannounced. Heather, where did you find this? On a boat in the swamp. Trey took a deep breath. This boat belonged to a man who disappeared three years ago. His sister was accused of his murder and she has disappeared. Heather sat quietly. Names? Sean and Morgan Tyndall. You think she killed him? Youre asking about an open investigation. You know I cant answer. Other family? A sister, Sinead. Lives about fifty miles from here. Heather thought in silence. Sinead okay? Theres a rumour that the county attorney might bring charges against Sinead for her sisters murder in order to flush Morgan out. Nasty. Yes. Heather, do you have information in this case? If you do, withholding it is a crime. Dont know. If I find something, I will call. 26

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Heather spent every evening for the next two weeks searching old news stories on the Internet. When she found the one she was looking for, she knew instantly that she had the answer to her questions. She continued to monitor current news and noticed immediately when the district attorney charged Sinead with Morgans death. She was not surprised when a woman she recognized from an old newspaper photo showed up in the middle of the night at her door. Hello, Sinead, come in. Herbal tea? Sineads face showed her confusion. No caffeine, healthy tea. Please come in. How did you know I would be coming? Sinead asked as she came inside. Not hard. Police will follow, Heather said as she handed Sinead a cup of tea. What do we do? Have tea. Go home. Heather handed her a crudely drawn map. Meet there. Moonrise tomorrow. Why should I trust you? Morgan is the Swamp Witch. She saved my life. The following evening, Sinead waited at the spot where Heathers map showed for them to meet. She got out of the car in the darkness at the end of the dirt road. Heather drove up in a truck with a Jon boat on a trailer. A kayak was strapped to the Jon boat. A young man sat beside her. They climbed down from the truck. Dylan turned to Heather, I hope you know what youre doing. Heather nodded. Give him the car key. Sinead handed her keys to Dylan. You know the plan. Dylan climbed into the car and left the way they had come. Heather motioned for Sinead to take Dylans place in the truck. Heather turned the truck around and drove back along the dirt road. She cut the chain on a gate with a large bolt cutter and turned to an even smaller dirt road. She closed the gate so it would not look as if it had been tampered with. If they had any luck at all, it might be weeks before anyone noticed the cut chain. They drove an hour along the bumpy and frequently soft dirt road. At the end of the road they came to a lake. Heather backed the truck so the trailers wheels were in the water. Heather climbed out. You drive. Watch my hand signals.

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Sinead climbed into the driver seat and Heather climbed into the boat. Heather unhooked the fasteners that held the boat to the trailer and motioned for Sinead to back up further. Once the boat floated off the trailer, Heather motioned Sinead to pull forward and instructed her to park the truck under a tree and lock it. Are you sure we can find her? Sinead asked once she was in the boat. She will find us, Heather replied with confidence. Heather started the motor and navigated in the direction she had gone with her father and grandfather what seemed half a lifetime ago. After an hour of motoring through the swamp, Heather spotted an overturned boat on the bank. She pulled closer. Fathers boat, she said through gritted teeth holding in her anger. She pointed to a large alligator on the bank. Gator killed grandfather. Sinead shuddered. Tried to kill me. Steal farm. Served him right. Heather took a few minutes to decide which direction to proceed from there. A tiny motion out of the corner of her eye told her it did not matter. The Swamp Witch was watching them. Looking up at the embankment she had walked along that night so long ago, Heather continued in the direction she was going for another half hour. She pulled the boat to the bank and tied it to a tree. Take the kayak from here. Cross mound. Water other side. They untied the kayak and carried it across. Heather was only a few yards from the point where she had followed Witch to where her kayak had been hidden. She wondered if she remembered the way from there when she noticed a kayak hidden in the grasses. It had to be the same kayak, and this was a test. Sinead was not as strong as Heather and their progress was slow, but Heather could sense that Witch was right behind them. In the end, it was Heathers sense of smell that brought them to the right place. She smelled the fires and, where she might otherwise have missed the last turn, beached the kayak where they had blown up the alligator. Heather knew better than to surprise Witch even though she believed Witch had followed them from the time they had passed the spot where her fathers boat lay overturned. HEY! FRIENDS COME! Heather, Im right behind you. Witch beached her kayak next to Heathers. You dont need to shout. It is good to see you. Who did you bring with you? Witch stepped out of the kayak to the shore. Sinead had kept her head down not sure whether to believe the voice behind her was really her sister. She looked up at the apparition before her. Morgan? Witch backhanded Sinead so hard that her head turned away with the force of the blow. You betrayed me!

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SWAMP WITCH I did not! You know who we were up against. You could have fought!

Robert H. Cherny

How was I supposed to do that? Sean was gone who knows were and you hid under the bed. I was afraid. And I wasnt? You could have stood beside me. I dont have your strength. You dont have my brains either. Other than the entire police force, who else knows you came looking for me? Only Heather and her boyfriend. Witch looked at Heather. Dylan? Yes, how? I get around. Hes a good guy. Dont let him go. So, Sinead, what brings you here after all these years? I have been charged with your murder. And we know whos behind that, dont we? Yes. How do you know you werent followed? I came off road, Heather explained. Witch shook her head. Get out of the boat. Heather brightened. I brought presents. She opened the large sack in the centre of the kayak. Batteries, electric matches, shotgun shells, wire, rope, chocolate. Witch laughed, Chocolate? Every girl loves chocolate. Witch laughed. I know your name. Do you still want me call you Witch? Heather asked. No, you can call me Morgan. Thank you, Morgan. Heather looked back and forth between the sisters. They were so different. Morgan was tall and dark. Sinead was slight and fair. Too much exposure to the sun would be bad for her. I have to get back. How should we deal with the murder charges? 29

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The question stunned Morgan who was used to being the one who drove their plans when Sean wasnt doing it. Lets go inside. We need light to work this out. Heather left with first light. When she returned to her Jon boat she noticed that the tell-tale she had left had been disturbed. That meant she probably had been followed. It also meant the location of her fathers overturned boat was no longer a secret. Of course, the presence of the large alligator next to it would discourage people seeking evidence. She tossed the kayak in the Jon boat and tied it down. When she returned to her truck, she noticed heavy boot prints in the sand that had not been there the night before. Someone knew where she had gone. She could only hope that the trick with the kayak had thrown them off the scent and Morgans location was still secret. Heather winched the boat on to the trailer and started the truck. At least it started. No one had disabled it. She was so far from civilization her cell phone had no signal and even if there had been someone to call, she could not have called them. The weathered old chain on the gate had been replaced with a bright new heavy chain. Since she could not cut through the new chain, she cut the fence fabric beside the gate and peeled it back enough to squeeze the truck between the gate and a tree. She left the fabric peeled back so whoever it was would have no doubt she had escaped. She sensed animals watching her as she drove back to the highway. Dylan was on the porch when Heather returned. I was followed. Are you okay? Heather, what is this all about? What is going on? Dont know. Too much to understand. We have a job tonight. Morgan needs help. Dylan sighed. What do you need me to do? At lunch time, Dylan wandered into a small restaurant where the reporters and staff from the neighbouring television station ate lunch. Spotting Tim Alden, the reporter he needed, eating at an outside table, Dylan was glad Plan A was working. He bought his lunch and, as he left the restaurant, dropped a note in the reporters open camera bag. The note had a set of G P S coordinates and the instructions Morgan wishes to see you. Tonight 10 PM. Bring this note, your camera and extra batteries. Fortunately, Tim had left the restaurant before he found the note. Otherwise his gasp would have blown the whole plan. Tim Alden lugged his camera case the half mile from the road to the G P S location he had been given in the note. At the precise spot the G P S brought him to, he found a note tacked to a tree. Get in the boat. Put on the blindfold. Okay, Morgan, this is really creepy, even for you. I know when we did those haunted houses we did some scary stuff, but this is not funny. 30

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Tim sat in the centre seat of the Jon boat and put on the blindfold. Someone climbed into the boat and patted him gently on the shoulder. They took the note from him. They took his hand and made the thumbs up sign with it. Tim knew that whoever this was intended him no harm, but it still scared the daylights out of him. The boat started. Tim had intended to try the trick of counting the seconds between each change of course, but after five minutes, he realized that they had spent the whole time in a circle. There was no way to know in which direction they would go when they left the circle. Part of what brought him to that realization was their exit from the circle. The boat motored for an hour. Tim had no way to know if they were travelling in a straight line or not. After an hour, the boat came to a smooth stop on a sandy bank. Someone stepped into the boat and gently took Tims hands in theirs. Helping him to his feet, the hands guided him out of the boat to the shore. Once there, someone looped the strap of his camera case over his shoulder. Again, they took his hand to form the thumbs up sign. Tim heard the boats motor disappear into the distance. He walked for a few hundred yards before being brought down an embankment and helped into a kayak. He heard the night sounds of the swamp and the gentle swish of the kayaks paddle, but he lost track of time. The kayak slid in to a beach. A womans voice behind him said, Remove the blindfold. Set up in the clearing. Tim turned to look at the person in the back of the kayak. They were wearing a camouflage outfit many sizes too large for them, a floppy hat and a ski mask. They had their face turned away. Tim did as he was told and the kayak pulled away. All Tim knew for sure was that he did not want to die here and hoped that whoever had brought him here would bring him home. Tim set his camera on a tripod and waited. Turn on the camera and stand in its light, a womans voice commanded from the darkness. Tim thought the voice was Morgans, but he was not sure. He did as he was told. Hello, Tim. Morgan stepped out of the shadows. Youre alive! Yes, Tim, I am alive, and you are one of the few people that can positively identify me. Oh, My God! Morgan, cops in ten states are looking for you. I am sure that is an exaggeration, but I appreciate the compliment. Tim, are you certain that you recognize me? Yes, Morgan, I would know you anywhere. We worked too many haunted houses, and too many awful dinner theatre musicals for me not to know how you walk, how you carry yourself. Even in costume, you were always you. I think there is one more test we can use to be absolutely certain you recognize me.

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SWAMP WITCH Which is?

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Morgan reached around his head and kissed him long and hard leaving him breathless. Now, are you absolutely certain you know who I am? God! Morgan! How could I forget your kiss? You give me chills all the way to my toes. I would like you to meet someone. Sinead stepped from the shadows. Did you have to kiss him on camera? Sinead said with a sneer. Yes, I would have sooner or later anyway. I missed his touch. Tim, this is my sister Sinead. She has been accused of my murder, but as you see, I am not dead. Looking at Sinead, Tim stammered, Youve been accused of murdering her? Youre tiny. How could anyone think that? Tiny or not, she has been falsely accused, Morgan replied. And I have been accused by the same person of murdering my brother who we have reason to believe is not dead. I dont understand. Neither do we, but we have some ideas, none of which we can prove. Let me get this straight, you went into hiding because someone accused you of murderi ng your brother. What, its been three years ago and now the same person accused your sister of murdering you even though they have no proof of such a murder and in fact, you are alive. Very good! Why would someone do that? We dont know, but to get them off our backs, we would like you to take this tape and post it on as many Internet sites as you can and give it to as many media outlets as will carry it. But wont the cops come after me for harbouring a fugitive? Wont do them any good. You wont be able to find us again. What do I tell the cops? Show them the tape and tell them the truth. We are alive and we did not kill anyone. But what do I tell them about how I got here? Do you know how you got here? No. Do you even know where here is? 32

SWAMP WITCH No. Does it look like this is where we live? No. Tell them the truth, Tim. You can turn off the camera now.

Robert H. Cherny

After Tim had packed up his gear, Morgan said, Tim, you look stressed. I have some herbal tea that will calm you down. Its not hot, but its still good. Thanks. Tim woke up locked in the back seat of his car parked under a highway bridge. Where he woke up was not where he had parked his car to meet Morgan. Tim posted the raw un-edited video on the Internet and it instantly went viral. Tims interview with the police was extremely unpleasant. He told the police everything he knew, what little that was, but they did not want to believe he was not withholding something. In spite of the detectives assertion that he did not believe Tim, Tim was not charged with anything. Before being released he was cautioned that if he was contacted in this matter again, he was to immediately call the police. Tims response was to ask why he should when they gave him such a hard time for coming forward with what he did know.

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