There were maybe four pens with walls abutting each other. Samuel led Serrah into one of these, which was about twelve or fourteen feet to the side, a...d gestured over toward a lean-to, open-fronted shed at the far end from the gate. A thin mattress, stuffed with what Serrah would learn was Spanish moss and covered with a cotton cloth, lay on the beaten-earth floor of the shed. Next to the bed were two buckets, one filled with water and with a dipper in it. The other was to be used as a. The fisherman’s pocketknife falls out of my pocket on the floor, but I retrieve it with ease and effort, plucking up the sharpest mini-razor, leaning the skull of the living dead to the side and nailing the knife through to the other side. The gagging stops. The dead body, the sloth himself, is exterminated. I stand up, no blood on my shirt but a good lot on my pants legs. Zelda’s eyes, those sea blue eyes, are gazed on the not is but was on the cols footing. I grab her arm and pull her away. More

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