“I gasp.All around me, the dead are risin.Another leg bone bobs to the muddy surface. Then a skull. A arm bone. They swing lazily. The current grabs 'em an carries 'em away.Wreckers must of used the dry riverbed as a mass grave an now the heavy rain's churnin it all up.I snatch my hands from the water, hold my arms high, outta the way. Slowly I turn in a circle, blinkin the rain away from my eyes.Ohmigawd, I says. Ohmigawd ohmigawd ohmigawd.The river's alive with dead men's bones. It's thick with 'em.My breath's comin shallow an fast.I feel somethin touch me. I make myself look down. A skellenton's wrapped itself around my chest. The skull grins up at me.I shove it away. But when I pull my hands up agin, the whole top half of the skellenton comes with 'em. I'm stuck in the ribcage. The skull's right in my face.I scream. Shake myself loose. Scramble to git away. Lose my footin.I fall. I go unner.An the current sweeps me away.”
“Before I know what he's up to, he grabs my hand. Hey! I try to pull it away but he holds it even tighter. Saba, he says, I dunno what happy star sent you lookin fer me but I'm mighty thankful it did. If you hadn't of turned up, I'd be dead by now.”
“I know it's selfish of me to even think of sayin this. You deserve a guy who'll... pluck the stars from the sky and lay 'em at yer feet. I'm the kinda guy who'd step on 'em on my way out the door. I ain't got nuthin to offer you. He takes my hands in his. I jest want you to know that... How I feel about you ain't changed. No. That ain't true. It has changed. It's grown stronger. He touches my face. You run deep in me Saba.”
“I close my eyes. My bones sob. Throb. I'm so weary with tryin to hold myself together. Tryin to hold back the darkness.”
“I stare at his chest. I can't seem to make my eyes move away. When I seen him without his shirt before, back at Hopetown, all I noticed was the scars. But now all I can see is how lean an strong he is. With wide shoulders an arms roped with muscle. He ain't got no hair on his chest, not like Pa an Lugh. My fingers itch to touch it. Find out if his skin feels as smooth as it looks.”
“Believe it or not, missy, back in my salad days, I was what we called a gay blade, he says. Had a fine manly figger. I had dash an charm an... oh, I was devilish handsome, no word of a lie. Females flocked to me, helpless moths to my deadly flame. There you go, says Em. You jest need to scrub up some.”
“Yer in my blood, Saba, he says. Yer in my head. Yer in my breath, yer in my bones...gawd help me, yer everywhere. You have bin since the first moment I set eyes on you.”