The town of Willingby were alerted of Samuel and to avoid him as possible. The Rangers began searching for him while I became worried for Lucy. Days went by and no sightings of Samuel. I wasn’t surprised. He knew the woods, better than any of us. There were many places to hide even in the wetlands were Muja made his home. We had hoped to capture him before the winter floods arrived, but we hadn’t any luck. Before the deluge started, Ranger Wilson and I visited Lucy. While Ranger Wilson walked around her cabin, I asked her if she had seen Samuel. She must have known something terrible was happening, I could see the worry in her eyes.
“I haven’t seen him,” she told me. “He stopped bringing me honey… What has he done?”
“Were just looking for him,” I didn’t think there was any need to scare her.
“He killed them didn’t he?” she asked.
I couldn’t respond. Though, she must have read my mind. I assured her that we will find him and in the meantime to stay near the cabin and keep the doors and windows locked. I felt uneasy leaving Lucy by herself, alone on the river, beyond the woods.
As expected, the rains were upon us making it difficult to row down the river. Many times I tried to reach Lucy’s cabin, but, the waters were impenetrable. I contacted her a few times through the radio until one day she didn’t respond. I became worried, and though, it was raining incessantly, I rowed my way to her cabin. To my horror, the cabin was being submerged in water. I hurried inside and found it slowly being engulfed. I pushed my way through, calling out for Lucy. I feared I was too late when I saw something floating near the corner. It was Lucy.
When I reached her she was unconscious. I couldn’t tell if she was alive. I picked her up and rushed her to the hospital. When the rains subsided I heard from other Rangers that Lucy’s cabin had been washed away by the river, leaving nothing but a vacant spot. I didn’t know how to tell Lucy, however, she didn’t wake up until the rains had slowed. I wanted to visit her, but I became busy with the aftermath of the floods. I had wondered if anybody had told her of her home, because when I saw her again she was standing in front of the vacant spot where her cabin had sat.
“Lucy,” I approached her from behind. There was a pause before she responded.
“Why didn’t you visit me?” she asked me without turning around.
“I couldn’t,” I said. “I’m sorry about your home.”
“Me too,” she said as she walked away.