“We have to get off the river.”
The stranger’s hand shot up to tell me to be quiet, and his face turned to the sky.
“Do you hear that?” he asked. Over the lapping of the water was the whomp-whomp of a helicopter in the distance.
The helicopter sounded funny, remote. “It sounds like it’s moving away.”
“That’s how it’s made.” He heaved his paddle into the boat and snatched mine. The man stood up, and I held the sides as the boat wobbled. “They are almost overhead. Can you swim?” Before I said yes, he picked me up and dragged me into the river.
Shocked by the water rushing over me, I fought to break the surface. With the silhouette of the helicopter overhead, his hands moved to my waist, and he drew me under the dark shadow of the canoe. Lungs tightening, we sank to the bottom. In my robe and hot pink pjs, they were sure to see us. It didn’t matter at that moment. My lungs burned. My need for air was so great, the urge so strong, I had to plug my nose and cover my mouth before I stupidly breathed in the water. If we didn’t surface for air, I’d drown.
Seconds later, the man let go. I flapped my arms, expecting to rise to the surface, only to sink deeper. My feet touched the bottom. I had to get to the air. My feet kicked off, pumping with everything they had, but the stupid robe weighed me down, and I only rose a bit before I sank back. I’d have to choose between losing the robe or drowning in the river. No brainer. I twisted my arms free and rushed to the surface.
I gasped in the air. A few feet away, my rescuer treaded water. He rolled up his mask enough to draw a deep breath. It was the first time I saw his skin, tanned with dark stubble.
“We’ve got to go. We’re almost there,” he said.
I barely had the energy to swim to shore and drag myself up from the water. The man sprinted off ahead. My pajamas clung uncomfortably close to my body, and I pulled them away from my chest repeatedly. Embarrassed by my underwear bracelets, I tucked them under my sleeves. My slippers sklooshed with each step as I stumbled behind him.
The man recovered his face, and he came back and said, “Take off your shoes. You’re making too much noise.”
I tucked them under my arms and made my way to him over the rocky shoreline, wincing with pain the whole way.
“Come here,” he said, and he hoisted me to his back. He smelled like river water and mint as he carried me into town.
Lights were on in the brick houses, and smoke curled from the chimneys. The man took us to some grass and let go of my legs. I didn’t slide right off his back; my face, chest, and thighs stuck to the man in the most embarrassing ways possible. I whispered an apology before he sprinted to the wall of the first building and down a side yard. He moved with the stealth of a cat about to attack. I followed like a donkey roller skating, slipping on the dew, tripping over roots. When we were between two buildings, the man suddenly forced me up against a wall with the back of his body. From under his arm, I saw two Libratiers running towards the water. We had to get somewhere fast. The man led me to a string of backyards separated by hedgerows of bushes.
We crawled past a closed window with its curtains drawn. His body was so close, I felt him tense before I knew what was happening. The back door opened, and a young mother stepped out with a basket of wet clothes and a child at her leg. She shook out the sheet and hung it on the line.
He rushed us through her yard and to the next. In the center of that yard was a small mound. I saw from where we were that there was a door. The man pointed to it. “Go there.” Finding all the energy I had left in my body, I sprinted, but the man beat me to it and opened the door. Before I could react, I was being lifted off the ground and tossed inside.
Chapter 21
Epps, Peps, Pebbles
I landed on my butt in a canning cellar. Shelves of jars lined the walls, and a ladder led up to the door. Ladder. That would have been nice. I stood and rubbed my tailbone.
The man leapt down and landed on his feet with the skill of a trained gymnast, the door slamming shut behind him. Who was this guy? He was tall and needed a shave, but with his mask and gloved hands that was all I knew. Forget a name; I didn’t even have a face.
The light filtered through the slats in the door above. We listened to the surrounding noises. A woman hummed; children played. Nearby a bird chirped, and I had an involuntary shudder.
Confident we were okay at least for the moment, the man gave a sigh and slid down the wall to sit on the floor. I crumbled to the floor a few feet away from him.
I stared straight forward at the jars, going into a blank trance for a moment. He faced the shelves too. Some movement awakened my attention, and I saw him take off his mask. His hair fell over his eyes, and he pushed it back.
I didn’t know what I expected to see when he took off his mask, but he wasn’t what I thought he would be. He was young, early twenties, and kind of good-looking. He was familiar in a way, but I’d never seen him before;
