Wilder's Ghost by Diane Bradley

Author:Diane Bradley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: North Star Press of St. Cloud, Inc.
Published: 2015-06-08T00:00:00+00:00

15: The Boat

A rla’s ankle looked awful. You could barely tell where her ankle was because of all the swelling. Halfway down the stairs, I called out to her. The early morning light filtered through the heavy greenery and gaps in the boards. She sleepily sat up, but Dylan needed a nudge to open his eyes. He turned his back to me and curled his bulk into a ball.

“Boat. There’s a boat down on the shore. I saw it when the sun came up.”

“Like a real boat to crawl into and escape type boat?” Arla said and carefully placed her foot down and tried standing. She gritted her teeth and took a hesitant step.

“It looks like one, but I just caught a glimpse of it,” I said. I wanted to examine her ankle, but it looked too painful to even touch. She caught me frowning.

“It’s better,” she said. “I think it’s just a bad sprain. Let’s go take a look.”

Rika opened the door and caught the rock as it tumbled off the top of the door jam.

“Good idea, but I’m glad I didn’t need to go out to pee in the middle of the night,” Dylan said. He walked to the edge of the cliff. “Where’s the boat? I don’t see a thing.”

“We saw it from up on the rooftop. It’s in that stretch of lake reeds and lily pads. Where it’s all marshy. It’s stuck in the mud down there,” Rika said. She pointed to the spot. I couldn’t see a thing from here, just the trail the deer had taken as they got their morning drink.

“Russ claimed he had a boat. It might be his,” Rika said.

“I hope not. That’d mean he knows where it is and would head right for this place,” I said.

Arla limped to the edge and looked over. “Let’s get down there and get away from this place. Russ will be hunting for us.” I hated the word hunting. I didn’t want to be a part of his game, but he’d never give up.

“I’ll go first with Arla,” Dylan said. “I’ll help you get down.” She gave him a grateful smile, and I wished I had thought to offer a shoulder. Deer are more nimble than humans. Dylan had to stop several times to help Arla down the path. The ankle looked bad, but she seemed sturdier this morning.

The boat lay hidden deep in the greenery. I wondered how I ever saw it. It was because of the flooding. The new water level crushed the shoreline weeds, exposing the boat. Rika pulled back springy branches and pulled dead lake weeds off the boat. It was a good-sized vessel, at least twenty feet. The old Lund had been painted white, but weather, mud, and waves had beaten it to a faded gray. It was filled with sludgy water. Dylan pulled more branches aside revealing the entire boat and cursed.

“It’s wrecked. They hit something huge, probably a rock,” he said. “The whole front is crushed.” The boat had three rows of seats and room for a motor.

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