Stowaway by Pam Withers

Author:Pam Withers [Pam Withers]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459741935
Publisher: Dundurn
Published: 2018-07-19T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

OWEN

A five-star hotel this is not. We’re handed a ratty blanket each, which we wrap around ourselves on the concrete floor. Pequeño sleeps between Danillo and Arturo, the first mate unable to hide a grim face ever since the captain left him with us. I’m on the outside of the circle. Like I always have been, I remind myself.

“Coffee. Rise and shine, kids.”

I prop open an eye as my nose determines that hot coffee is indeed in the room.

“Get up, now!” The goons’ voices drop any pretence of cheer.

“Must be morning,” Gabriel mutters.

I sit up fast as a coffee cup appears beside me. Ignoring the ripe scent of unwashed bodies, I sip it like I’m at the bakery cafe back on Horton Island.

We’ve barely finished our coffee when the guards jerk their heads toward the stairs.

“Up and out. Get a move on.” One points his gun to emphasize the order.

As we file past a small table near the stairs, I snatch a folded-up newspaper and stick it under my shirt. A dude’s got to keep up on what’s happening in the world while on extended vacation.

“Hey!” Lucas’s voice. Outside, the goons are pushing him apart from the rest of us. “Bye, guys. Text me when you can, okay?” he shouts as he’s shoved into a car.

“He’s free,” Danillo states with a grim face. “His parents paid up.”

“I wonder,” I say. All that’s clear is that we aren’t. I see no opportunity to bolt before we’re directed into the back of a rusty unmarked white van dimly lit by small holes in the walls and floor. No seats, of course. Just before the back doors slam shut, I look out at the water. No sign of Archimedes in the early morning mist.

Arturo sits apart from the others. I should feel sorry for him, but lack the energy for it.

“Sorry about your demotion,” Danillo baits the first mate as the engine roars and our ride jerks ahead. “But it’s only for a few days. Then your captain will come save you and put you back on the high seas to fleece more clients.”

“Stop being mean to Arturo,” Pequeño speaks up bravely.

“Or what?” Danillo flings back.

“Thought you’d be released,” I say to Danillo, “given your parents own a yacht.”

“Owned a yacht,” he says in a pinched voice. “Sold it to put me on Archimedes.”

“And you thought if you just showed up here,” I say, “no one would arrest you or send you back? You’d find a new school to go to, send for your parents, and live happily ever after?”

He hesitates. “Yes. That’s why our families sent us. Kids get a special break. Amnesty. They’re allowed in with hardly any questions, no punishment. They never get sent back.”

I shake my head. “That’s what the captain told your parents? And they believed it?”

Everyone’s staring at me except Arturo. The boys’ faces have gone pale. Arturo turns toward the rusty wall as if he needs to study it. He and the captain have done

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