I haven't personally checked, but I'm willing to bet it is. "That's the point. No one will think to check under the ice. When it thaws in the spring, the gators will get to her before anyone else can."
Talking about turning the girl I loved into gator food should probably feel impossible, but I'm in survival mode.
"Gators?"
There aren't a ton of them around here; they tend to prefer warmer climates. But they showed up here one day, and the population has grown over the last several years. They learned to adapt to the freezing winters by keeping their noses out of the water while they hibernate... or something to that effect.
"Yeah. Remember Sammy? The little kid that got his hand eaten by a gator?"
"I remember." Brant swallows. "You think they'll eat her, too?"
I don't see why they wouldn't.
"Yeah." I nod. "Come on, grab her feet."
I bend down and take her hands in mine, grunting at how fucking cold they are as Brant moves to take her feet. Together, we lift her into the air, a frigid, stiff block of dead weight. Only her head dips backward, her hair dragging through the snow as we carry her to the woods.
For someone who was so easy to overpower, she sure is fucking heavy to carry.
I'm panting by the time we step into the cover of the trees, each breath a stabbing pain in the side as icy air fills my lungs, trying to crystallize me from the inside out.
"Not far." I promise Brant, turning so that I can angle us between the trees, trying not to trip over anything as the brush gets denser.
We drop her the minute we get to the edge of the swamp, where the snow gives way suddenly to a smooth, dark surface. There's not much light here; the moon barely slips through the trees around us. It's not a big body of water, and not a big opening either. That's why it's perfect. I doubt anyone will even remember it's here.
"The water's already frozen. How do we get her in there?"
I eye him slowly, realizing we hadn't thought this part through. "You have a pocketknife?"
"Yeah, but..."
"Go on, then." I tell him, gesturing for him to step out toward the ice.
"But, the gators..."
"They're hibernating. They won't wake..."
Brant swallows, staring out at the dark surface of the swamp before turning back to me. "You do it."
I'm not afraid of gators. I'm more afraid of someone finding her body and putting us away for her murder, of losing my freedom, my reputation. No, we can't get caught.
"Pussy." I scoff, rolling my eyes as I snag the knife he's holding out for me.
Frosted-over twigs snap beneath my boots as I move toward the ice, my eyes sweeping the surface in search of any spots that appear thinner, any places with bubbles... somewhere that will be a good spot to break in.
"Shine a light over here." I demand, hoping he has his cell phone on him. I left mine in the church somehow.
A moment later, a small orb of light appears from behind me, bobbing closer with Brant's footsteps.
"There." I say, spotting a dark patch in the midst of the opaque ice, a small hairline crack on the surface. It's a few inches out, too far to reach from the safety of solid ground.
Each cautious step I take, I wait for the sound of ice cracking underfoot, hold my breath, pray it holds. And it does. The ice doesn't break apart until I crouch down with the knife in hand, adjust my numb fingers around the handle, and stab into it. It takes a few stabs for the ice to begin splintering, and a few more to break it apart enough that it looks wide enough to shove a body through.
I don't even realize I'm bleeding until I see the red dotting the ice.
"You cut yourself!" Brant says, as if I couldn't figure that out myself. I blink, lifting my hands to try and find the source of the bleeding. It isn't hard; there's a large gash that spans among my first two fingers. I can't see how deep it is, but I can tell by the way the blood is pouring that I got myself good.
"Just bring her out here to me so we can get this over with." I snap, irritation surging as I realize why I didn't feel it when I cut myself. My hands and feet are fucking numb; we're risking hypothermia every second that passes and fucking Cole is probably sitting in his car with the heat blasting right now.
