Boat problems

I nto the warm night.

The symphony of crickets. The shock of the darkness.

The relief of being out of the hotel.

The fear that she wasn’t far enough away yet.

Cari ran with the two boys through the tall grass along the back of the hotel. Everything seemed exaggerated. All of her senses were distorted. She could see every blade of grass, every clump of sand before her. She could hear the scratching crickets, the brush of the wind off the ocean, the hard breathing of her companions. She could smell the salt from the water, even smell the grassy dew that clung to her legs as she ran.

She could feel the fear.

The fear that had made them run from the hideous trophies, run blindly down the stairs and out the narrow back exit by the storage pantry, and keep on running without looking back.

Her bag felt heavy, but she didn’t slow.

None of them did.

They turned the corner, breathing loudly, running at full speed, and headed past the hotel building, down the steeply sloping hill at its front, and onto the narrow private road that twisted through the woods down to the water.

“Ow! I’ve got a stone in my shoe!”

Craig stopped and dropped his bag onto the road and sat on it. Breathing heavily, he pulled off his sneaker and turned it over to empty it.

Cari, struggling to catch her breath, was grateful for the break. She turned to stare up the hill at the hotel, which was dark except for two lights on the second floor.

“I think we’re going to make it,” Eric said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “They didn’t see us. They’re not coming after us.”

Such a hot night, Cari thought. She was dripping wet.

Craig was gulping air. “We’re not away yet,” he managed to say, still trying to catch his breath. “We’ve got to get off this island. I won’t feel safe till we’re on the boat.”

“You sure you can drive a boat?” Eric asked.

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

“I can just picture you in a yachting cap,” Eric said, grinning. “And the white pants and the admiral’s jacket with those things on the shoulders. It’s perfect.”

“I can pilot it without a uniform,” Craig said with a grim smile.

Cari still saw the four mounted heads in her mind. She couldn’t stop thinking about them. They seemed to be following her, watching her as she ran through the night. “Those heads—” she said, to no one in particular.

“Try not to think about “them,” Eric interrupted, squeezing her shoulder tenderly. “Let’s just go.”

“But were they—” She couldn’t finish her question.

Were they four other people who had vanished on Piney Island? she wondered. Four hotel guests who never returned home? Had Edward written a letter to their relatives saying that they had mysteriously disappeared?

Cari tried to shut the hideous sight from her mind. She tried not to think about Jan. Poor Jan. But the four faces on the wall, their features stretched in horror, in agony, their hideous expressions trapped forever, followed her as she jogged with her friends down the road, through the whispering pines toward the water.

A few minutes later the tall wrought-iron fence came into view.

“We’re almost to the dock!” Cari cried happily. Being so close to freedom helped her forget the aching of her arm, the heaviness of the bag, the fearful pounding of her heart.

Eric reached the gate first. He grabbed the gate latch and pulled.

He heaved a loud sigh.

Cari and Craig caught up with him. She could immediately see the despair on his face.

“The gate’s padlocked,” he said, breathing hard.

He tugged at the lock. He tried pushing it.

He slammed his bag against the gate. He put his hands around the bars and shook the gate as hard as he could, more out of frustration than as an attempt to get it open.

“We’re locked in. We can’t get to the dock.”

“We can climb the fence,” Cari suggested. But then she looked up at how tall it was and saw the spikes all along the top.

“No way,” Craig muttered, dropping his bag to the asphalt. “The dock is so close. Just on the other side.”

“Wait!” Cari interrupted. She had an idea. “We’ll go back to the hotel—”

“What?” Eric cried. “Have you lost it? Edward and Martin must know we’re gone by now. They’re probably out looking for us.”

“Wait—just listen to me,” Cari said shrilly, unable to hide her impatience. She knew her idea was good. “I don’t mean go into the hotel. We can run behind it and get down to the hotel beach. There are those canoes at the hotel dock. You know the ones. They’re always tied up there. We can take them to get away.”

“The canoes are on the bay—not the ocean. We can’t take them around the island,” Eric scoffed.

“No,” Cari told him. “But we can take them to Willow Island. It’s close, you can see it from the hotel beach. We can paddle to Willow Island and get the police.”

“Now, that’s a great idea,” Eric said quickly.

“I guess so,” Craig said. “I just hate the idea of going back up to the hotel.”

“We’ll keep to the trees,” Cari said, picking up her bag and leading the way, leaning into the hill, forcing her legs to climb. “We’ll stay as far from the hotel as we can. The lights weren’t on in the back. It’s pitch-black back there. They won’t see us.”

Her enthusiasm was catching. They picked up the pace as they made their way up the hill. The pale moon was just bright enough to light their way. Owls hooted softly from somewhere overhead. Again, Cari had the strange feeling that she could hear every sound, see everything around her with unnatural clarity.

The two upstairs lights had been turned off. The hotel was now completely dark. It loomed in front of them, a hulking black shape against a blue-black sky.

Walking through the tall grass that bordered the woods, Cari and the boys slipped past the hotel. The grass felt wet and scratchy against Cari’s legs. She wished she had worn jeans instead of shorts.

The grass gave way to sand, and the dune that sloped down to the bay. She could hear the soft lapping of waves against the sand. Then she could see the bay, the moon reflected in its gentle waters.

They stopped just below the top of the dune, safely out of sight of the hotel. Cari turned toward the small dock where the canoes were always kept.

And gaped in disbelief.

And disappointment.

The canoes were gone.

She stared hard, thinking maybe they were hidden by the darkness.

But no. The canoes were not there.

“We’re trapped,” she said softly, reaching for Eric’s hand, surprised to find it ice-cold. “We can’t get off this island.”

Дата добавления: 2015-07-20