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She felt dirt falling on her head and looked up to find Grace peering over the edge.

“Hi, Grace. What a good girl.”

Out of the corner of her eye O’Dell saw something flit across the dirt wall just inches away. She jerked back and shot the black light at the spot where she had seen the movement. And suddenly the entire wall came alive. Dozens — no, hundreds — of scurrying creatures glowing bright blue, fluorescing in the black light.

She gasped, almost screamed.

“Maggie, are you okay?”

She heard Creed’s voice but didn’t dare look up, not wanting to take her eyes away for even a second. She couldn’t believe it. How was this possible? They had been searching for a torture chamber all day and she had literally stumbled into it. But there were no fire ants.

Oh God, if only there were fire ants.

“Maggie?”

She couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. All she could do was stand paralyzed and watch as the walls started to crawl with hundreds of fluorescent scorpions.

39

The first sting surprised her even though she had been expecting it. It felt like a needle driving deep into her neck until it hit bone and was left there. The second sent a tingling down her spine. It wasn’t until after the third — maybe the fourth — that she felt the burn begin.

She couldn’t look up without her head spinning. Through a blur she could barely make out Creed yelling to her over the edge — and maybe Jason, or was she seeing double? Because suddenly there were two Jack Russell terriers, too. Then there were three and now four.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. She couldn’t hear Creed’s voice. Grace’s bark sounded muffled and miles away. A scorpion raced up her arm and she flung it off, only to see another on her shoulder. She could feel them in her hair, on her neck and back. She didn’t dare scream and risk one crawling into her mouth. The stings hurt less through her clothing. It was difficult to breathe. Her chest hurt. Sweat dripped down her face and she wanted to throw up.

There was a flash of light around her, and it took her a minute to realize it came from above. The men were trying to figure out what to do, shining light down into the hellhole to make sense of her silence.

Dirt trickled down on her but she couldn’t look up. It took all her effort to stand still. Her stomach cramped and a new panic raced through her when she realized she couldn’t swallow. She watched scorpions move freely up and down her body, but now she didn’t feel them.

More dirt rained on top of her and a shadow came over the opening. Someone was coming down. She stole a glance up and saw boots descending straight above her, avoiding contact with the walls. In no time Creed was in front of her, his shadow taking up the small space. She couldn’t see his face. It was too dark. And she couldn’t hear him. Her ears were filled with the sounds of water rushing and her heart thumping.

She could feel him slipping something under her arms. A rope. He cinched it quickly. Suddenly she was being yanked up, a jerk and jolt at a time. She tried to hang on with hands that wouldn’t obey and couldn’t grip. Jason grabbed onto her and she worked her feet over the ledge of dirt. Her first instinct was to twist and pull the rope off herself. Somehow she managed, then flung it back down for Creed.

She rolled over, attempting to sit up, and felt something tapping at her. She swatted instinctively to find Grace’s muzzle in her hair. The dog yelped and jumped back. That’s when O’Dell realized she had brought some of the damned scorpions up with her.

Again, she tried to sit up. Her head began to spin. She closed her eyes. She needed to breathe. She needed to take in the fresh air, but her lungs and throat felt thick.

Someone was slapping her to keep her awake. No, they were slapping off the scorpions that were still attached. Rolling her this way and that. It was too much. She couldn’t lift an arm — even a finger — to try to help. Nothing worked.

Her eyelids fluttered open only to see the leaves and clouds swirling above her. She was being swept up and she couldn’t hold on. So she closed her eyes again and tried to think of a cool breeze and the feel of ocean waves washing over her body again and again until her mind was somewhere else, where panic and fear and pain didn’t exist.

40

“She’s going into shock,” Creed told Jason.

It was taking forever to get back to the house, back to his Jeep. He carried Maggie while Grace and Jason led the way. Jason held the GPS tracker.

Creed had punched in the coordinates and found a shortcut so they didn’t have to wind all the way around and backtrack the ground they had covered in their search. But the shortcut included woods so thick he had to slow down just to maneuver between trees.

Every time he stopped to catch his breath he heard Jason stomp and mutter something too garbled for Creed to understand. But he could guess what the young soldier’s frustration was about. He couldn’t help carry Maggie with only one arm.

Before they started, Creed had taken a photo of one of the scorpions he’d smashed and kept. He’d texted the picture to Hannah with the instructions: “Find out what kind this is ASAP. Need to know what to do. Multiple stings.”

Now he heard his phone ping, and Jason pulled it out of his pocket immediately.

“She needs to know if it’s Grace or one of us.”

But before Creed could answer, the kid was poking in the answer quickly. He operated the phone while holding the tracker, both in his one hand and without slowing his pace.

“Hey, I can walk on my own,” Maggie said into Creed’s shirt collar, but she didn’t move her head from his shoulder.

“Maybe, but not fast enough.”

“Are they poisonous?” she asked.

“We’re trying to find out.”

“She says you smashed it too hard,” Jason told him without looking up. “She can’t tell if there were stripes on its back.”

“I think there were stripes.”

Jason’s thumb went back to work.

Creed still couldn’t see the house or any of the outbuildings. To make matters worse, the sky continued to get darker. Grace kept looking back at him to make sure he was okay. He was relieved she hadn’t gotten stung. A bigger dog might be able to handle a scorpion sting, but Grace was sixteen pounds. Speaking of pounds, he shifted Maggie and noticed that she was slipping in and out of consciousness.

Shock, definitely shock.

He wanted to yell for Hannah to hurry. Come on, what the hell is it? Was he carrying a dead woman?

“She says most scorpions in Alabama and Florida don’t have venom that’s lethal.”

“These might not be local,” Creed said. “Tell her to send the photo to Dr. Avelyn.”

“What do you mean they might not be local?” Jason stopped in his tracks to look back at Creed.

“Think about it. Have you ever seen that many scorpions all in one place?”

“Son of a bitch.” And he started tapping and walking again.

Grace began barking and bounded off to the right, trying to lead them through an even thicker underbrush. Before Creed could tell her they weren’t searching anymore, he could see the roofline. Finally!

“Good girl, Grace.” Creed followed. To Jason he said, “Looks like Grace found a shorter cut.”

“She’s better than a GPS.”

It was the first time Creed had seen the kid actually smile or at least come close, because almost immediately he was frowning again and went back to staring at Creed’s cell phone, not wanting to miss Hannah’s next message.

Sheriff Holt and his deputy were waiting for them. They helped Creed fold Maggie into the passenger seat of his Jeep. Holt already had his SUV’s engine running and the top bar lights flashing. Maggie was conscious again and trying to shove away their help until she realized she couldn’t even buckle herself in. That’s when Creed noticed the backs of her hands were swollen. So was her neck.