me. Each person looks out at the water, each in his or her own direction, each lost in his or her own world.
I reach over and tap Logan on the shoulder. He turns towards me.
“Mind taking the wheel?” I ask.
He rises from his seat quickly, happy to accommodate me, and grabs the wheel as we switch places.
I climb over to the back of the boat. I’m dying to talk to Bree, and I’m also dying to talk to Ben, to find out what happened with his brother. As I head back, I see Ben sitting there in what looks like a catatonic state, staring out at the river. He looks as if he’s aged ten years overnight, and I can see the grief etched into his face. I can only imagine what hell he’s been through, the guilt he must have of not saving his brother. If it were me, I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it. I admire him for even being here.
I want to talk to him, but I need to see Bree first. I climb over to the back row and sit beside her, and her eyes light up at the sight of me. She gives me a big hug, and we embrace for a long time. She holds me tight, clearly not wanting to let go.
After several seconds, I finally pry her off. Tears roll down her cheeks.
“I was so scared,” she says.
“I know, sweetheart,” I answer. “I’m so sorry.”
“Are we going home now?” she asks, hope in her eyes.
“We’re going to find a new home, Bree,” I say. “An even better one.”
“Can Rose come, too?” she asks.
I look over and see Rose, sitting beside her, look up at me hopefully. They are already two peas in a pod.
“Of course,” I say. “She’s part of the family now.”
I smile at Rose, and she surprises me by leaning over and giving me a hug. She clings to me, just like Bree, and I suddenly wonder where she came from, where her family us, where they captured her. I realize the hell that she must have gone through, too, and it hits home that we saved her, too. I think of an old saying: when you save a person’s life, that person becomes your responsibility for life. I can’t help feeling that somehow it’s true, that I’m now responsible for Rose, too. In my mind, her and Bree are inextricably linked.
“Thank you,” Rose whispers over my shoulder, into my ear.
I kiss her on the forehead, and she slowly pulls away. She reminds me of Bree in so many ways, it’s scary.
“What about Sasha?” Bree asks. “Can she come?”
It is the question I’ve been dreading. I take a deep breath, trying to think of the best way to phrase it. I have to tell her the truth; after all she’s been through, Bree deserves it.
“I’m so sorry, Bree,” I say, looking down. “Sasha didn’t make it.”
Fresh tears rush to Bree’s eyes, and she starts crying again, hysterical. Rose leans over and hugs her.
But after several seconds, to my surprise, Bree leans back, brushes away her tears, and looks back at me, red-eyed.
“I knew it,” she says. “I had a dream. She was visiting me. Somehow, I already knew she was dead.”
“This might cheer you up,” suddenly comes a voice.
I turn and see Ben standing there. To my surprise, there is a slight smile on his face.
I look down and see that he is holding something. Something small, wrapped in a blanket. He’s holding it out towards Bree.
Suddenly, a small dog pops its head out from the blanket. I can’t believe it. It is a small Chihuahua, missing one eye. It shakes and trembles, looking terrified.
“Oh my God!” Bree and Rose both scream out at once, eyes open wide in surprise.
Bree grabs it and holds it tight, cradling it, and Rose leans in and pets it, too. They both lean down, and it leans up and licks their faces. They scream out in delight.
“I found it in the boat,” Ben says. “I almost sat on it. I guess someone left it. Or maybe it crawled its way on.”
I’m shocked. I hadn’t seen the dog, and now that I think of it, I realize I didn’t spend any time examining the boat at all. Suddenly I look around, wondering what else could be here.
I spot all the side compartments and hurry to each one, opening them one after the other. I am surprised and delighted as I begin to discover all sorts of surprises. I open a sealed crate and am breathless to see its contents: it is packed with chocolate bars, candy, cookies, crackers and delicacies of all types.
I reach down and grab a huge bag filled with chocolate-covered jelly rings. I hold open the bag for Bree, Rose, Ben and Logan, and they each, wide-eyed, reach in and grab a handful. I then grab a handful myself and stuff my mouth, chewing one after the other.
It is ecstasy, by far the greatest thing I’ve ever tasted. I feel the sugar rush race through my body, and feel like I’ve gone to heaven. I look over and see the others wolfing them down, too, eyes closed, chewing slowly, savoring each bite. All of us, ravished.
I reach back into the crate and discover bags of gummy bears and twizzlers. I am amazed. I never thought I’d see these again. These are like gold, and I know I should ration them.
But after what we’ve all been through, now is not the time to ration anything-and for once, I let my emotions overcome my rational side. I throw the small bags to everyone in the boat, distributing them equally, and each person catches them in the air with a cry of joy and surprise. As Logan catches his, taking his hand off the wheel, the boat swerves a bit, then quickly straightens out.
I tear open my bag of gummy bears and finish the whole thing in just a few seconds, shoveling them into my mouth. Then I turn to the twizzlers. I try to take my time with these, forcing myself to chew each one slowly. I’ve barely eaten in days, and it is a shock to my stomach. It screams out in pain, and I force myself to slow down.
I spot a small fridge in the back of the boat, and hurry over and open it. I can’t believe it. It is stocked with everything from juice to champagne. The inequality of it all infuriates me: here we are, starving to death, while these fat slaverunners have been guzzling champagne. At least now it’s time for revenge.
I grab a bottle of champagne, twist off the wire, and pop the cork. It goes flying through the air, overboard, and into the river. Everyone turns at the sound and sees me standing there, holding the bottle as foam sprays out the top and over my hand. It is icy cold, but I don’t care. I put it to my lips, and take a swig. It goes right to my head.
I know I shouldn’t, but after everything they’ve been through, I offer it to Bree and Rose; they each take a small sip, giggling. I then reach over and hand it to Ben, and he takes several swigs without stopping. He hands it back to me, but still won’t look at me. He keeps his eyes fixed somewhere on the water. I wonder if he is ashamed to look at me, ashamed for having not saved his brother.
I study him as he looks out over the water. His eyes are red, and I can see he’s been crying. He reaches up and rubs one of them, wiping away a tear. I can hardly imagine what he’s been through.
“Do you want to talk about?” I ask.
He shakes his head no.
I understand. If it were me, I wouldn’t want talk about it either. He looks like he wants space, and I don’t want to press him.
I climb back to the front of the boat, sit in the passenger seat, and pass the bottle over to Logan. He takes a twizzler out of his mouth, grabs the bottle, takes a long swig, then hands it back to me, never taking his eyes off the water. He then inserts another twizzler into his mouth, chewing slowly.
I sit there in the plush leather passenger seat and lean back. We drive for a few minutes in silence, the only sound that of the whining engine. Finally, Logan turns to me.
“So, where to?” he asks.
I stare out at the water, thinking. I think about what Logan said before, about that perfect town, somewhere in Canada. And for the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel hope. I wonder if maybe he’s right, if maybe there could be some place left in the world that isn’t ruined. I wonder if maybe it’s good to dream.
I turn to him.
