Gateways

It disturbed him no end that a piece of his life was missing—an important piece, one that had put him in a coma for days. It scared him a little…no, it scared him a lot not knowing any of the details. That was why he couldn’t stay in the hospital. If he had to be in the dark as to what had happened to him, he’d rather be in the dark here, in familiar surroundings…where he felt he was in control. Or felt he had at least some modicum of control, even if illusory.

“Do you remember a woman attacked by pelicans last year?”

“Sure. Adele Borger. Terrible thing. I heard she was walking with two other women whom the pelicans ignored. They attacked just her. They say she was a terrible mess.”

“And the guy bitten by the snakes?”

“Ed Neusner. Where’d you hear about him and Adele?”

“From Carl.”

Tom had to smile. “Telephone, telegraph, tell Carl. He’s the Gateways gossipmonger. Not the brightest bulb in the box, but a good man. Hard worker. He’s got some wild ideas, though. Has he told you his theory about the angry Everglades yet?”

Jack nodded. “Yeah. Maybe it’s not so far-out. What about the guy killed by spiders?”

“Joe Leo? What about him?”

“Hasn’t anyone noticed a pattern to these deaths—like every three months?”

“No.” Was he right? Every three months? “No one’s ever mentioned it. But why would they? It can’t be anything other than coincidence.”

“Do you realize your accident falls right into the pattern?”

Good Lord, Jack was right. The muscles along the back of his neck tightened, but only for a second. Coincidence. That was all it was, all it could be.

Tom forced a smile. “Is this what you do in your spare time—invent conspiracies?”

Jack looked at him. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Don’t tell me you believe in UFOs. Please don’t.”

“The kind with aliens inside? Hardly. But I’ve had to stop believing in coincidences.”

Tom wondered at the bleakness in his son’s tone. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” Jack shook his head. “Maybe I’m reading too much into this. For a minute I had this wild idea that the Gateways honchos might be offing some of their healthier residents in order to have their houses revert to them.”

“Thatis a wild idea.”

He sighed. “I know. Especially when I realized that the houses would stay with the spouses. So there goes the motive for that scenario.”

“Except…,” Tom said as that tightening sensation crept again into the back of his neck, stronger this time. “Except that Adele was a widow and Joe and Ed were widowers.”

“Oh, Jeez,” Jack said as they stared at each other.

10

In Semelee’s vision, at least in the eye covered by the shell, she moved at a height varyin from one foot to almost two foot above the ground. Clumps of saw grass whipped past at eye level. Then she was splashin through a shallow pond, and now back up into the grass again. The goin was tougher than it shoulda been. In September of any other year, she—or rather, Devil—woulda been able to stay in the wet for the whole trip. This year, though, was different. Still, the drought wasn’t go

The goin was rougher for another reason: She had to stay on course and find her landmarks with only one eye.

At last she came to the pond she’d been searchin for. The level was down, but not as much as most others. She slid into the water and dove deep. Devil’s underwater vision was good, better than any human could claim, and soon enough she found the mouth of the tu

She entered a dark place, so dark that even Devil’s eyes was no good here. Sometime long ago, when all this land was formed, something happened hereabouts that left a cha

The cha

She’d been watchin the place through a frog’s eyes, waitin for the son to come home. After bein so close to him in town this afternoon, she had to see him again. She’d felt somethin click between them. Like magic. She sensed destiny there. No doubt about it.

But as she’d been watchin she saw him arrive with that old crone from next doorand his daddy! Semelee was so shocked she almost dropped her eye-shell. She thought this was bad at first, but then changed her mind. She realized that somethin must be helpin her, somethin big and powerful, maybe even the Glades itself must be guidin events. Because now that the old man was out of the hospital, he was closer to her. Comin home put him within strikin distance.

And strikin was just why she’d guided Devil here. She had to get this finished. And it had to be this old man. He’d been offered, and had to go before the time of the lights.

As a bonus, after the old man was gone, there’d be nothin standin between her and the son. They could get together, just like they was meant to.

She watched the front door. She wondered when the old man would come out…or if he’d come out. Might be a long wait.

She heard voices. Good thing a gator’s ears was atop his head, just behind the eyes, otherwise she woulda missed it. A swish of Devil’s tail angled him around so she could see who was talkin and…

Semelee blinked—her own eyes, not Devil’s—and stared. There he was: the old man—wearing one of the ugliest Hawaiian shirts she’d ever seen—and his son sittin in the neighbor lady’s front yard. This was too good to be true.

She made Devil sink toward the bottom of the pond, and then had him back up to the far end. When she and Devil made their strike, he had to be movin fast. He had to come out of the water at full speed and charge right at the old man. The big gator was hungry so she couldn’t let him get distracted and go for anyone else—not that ski

Once he got his teeth set in the old man, nothin was go

Back at the far end of the pond now, she surfaced for another look. Yes…there he was, talkin and drinkin…if she angled herself just right, she’d have a clear shot at the old buzzard. She’d sink, use Devil’s powerful tail to propel them through the water, then hit the land a-ru