Her hand came off the throttle but it was too late. The motor would have announced them as soon as she started it and the current had already pushed them half way along the extended dock. The interrupted emptiness of the place unsettled her. Even now she expected someone to run from the hut and wave them down, or train a rifle on them unless they stopped at the dock.
She pushed down on the throttle as far as it would go, feeling the power of the motor as it engaged, the bristle of the field on her back. The hull lifted and settled as the bow flattened out. The hut and dock, whatever their purpose, were already behind them and the waves from their wake were dissipating against the shore, whatever disturbance they would have made smoothed over by the rain.
EIGHTEEN
Storm searched for obstacles in the shallow river, the splash of the raindrops preventing her from seeing much of anything on the agitated surface. They swept downstream, the motor rumbling behind her in warning as if the occasional bite of its electromagnetic field on her back wasn’t enough to keep her pinned to the windshield. She adjusted the throttle, searching for a balance between her fear of being pursued and the field that pulled the hairs on her neck whenever she pushed too far.
Maria said something that was drowned out by the rain. She lay with a lifejacket under her head, the space beneath the bow just big enough to keep her out of the rain. Storm bent her head below the dashboard, grateful for the momentary break from the rain’s onslaught.
Maria had pushed aside the sleeping bag and had the rifle in her hand with it open to where the bullets slid in. She was removing the bullets and placing them into her pocket. She nodded towards a long metal box, a shining silver padlock locking it shut.
“There could be something useful in there.”
She handled the rifle with precise controlled movements, her discipline leaving her functional, if looking pale, her mouth set in a tight grimace. The only sign of distress was the fast rhythm of her breath through clenched teeth. She tucked the final bullet into her pocket and snapped the rifle shut.
Maria lifted the rifle to smash the stock against the lock and Storm returned to the wheel, steering them back towards the centre of the river. She braced herself on the top of the windshield against a wave of weakness as the driving rain muffled the crash of the rifle against the lock. She shook with cold, her body shrunken and drawn inward as it tried to shelter its core. They needed shelter, food, and warmth, and none of that was likely to come anytime soon.
Maria’s banging had stopped, and when Storm looked underneath, she was lying back against the lifejacket, her hands gripped around the rifle. The remains of the smashed lock hung from the bent clasp.
The bow swung suddenly to the right and Storm stood to find the boat sideways to the current and being pushed downstream. She jerked the wheel and with a smooth sedateness the bow tracked back upstream. A curse came from beneath the bow but Storm resisted looking, steering around a fallen tree that reached far into the river. On a relatively straight stretch she ducked her head back under. A colourful tangle of lures, hooks, fishing line and sinkers lay inside the box. Maria leaned back on the lifejacket again, the red square of a tiny first aid kit held in her hands along with the cylinder of a flashlight.
Storm drew the kit from her hands and opened the small red bag to find a couple of useless band aids the size of a thumbnail and the shiny packet of an emergency blanket.
Maria’s eyes had turned to a dull gray.
Checking their course again, Storm tore open the blanket and laid it between Maria and the sleeping bag.
Maria flinched as Storm accidentally brushed her leg. Sweat shone on her forehead and despite her prone position she held her body rigid.
“How bad is it?”
“I’m fine.”
Her words were clipped and rough, her breathing shallow.
“We need to find a hospital.”
Maria laughed, almost a gasp.
“And you’re going to take me there?”
Storm stood, readjusting their course. She hadn’t wanted to think about the city. They had been focused on staying ahead of their pursuers, but they hadn’t actually talked about what they would do when they got there. Storm had had some vague idea of Maria helping her contact her mother in secret, an argument with her, and then Storm resuming control of the operation to shut it all down. A ridiculous plan, especially given the state she and Maria were in.
She ducked her head back down, one hand holding the wheel.
“I’ll need your help won’t I? So we need to get you something for that leg so that when the time comes you’ll be able.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be ready.”
The woman was infuriating but Storm didn’t push it. For now they needed to get away from that compound.
Storm eased the throttle forward, stopping when the motor’s field took bites out of the skin on her back. She returned to her course down the centre, equidistant from the trees and shallows that threatened to catch them. A few kilometres back there had been a split in the river, one leading to the interior, the other towards the coast. Storm had taken the larger branch towards the coast without consulting Maria. They were more exposed on the larger river but it was their most direct route to Rima.
The river bent to the right, narrowing as they rounded the curve, the forest pushing thick and close to the banks. Darkness was already falling, blurring the details of the land and water. The shadow of a dock emerged, and she steered towards it until the light of a window broke through the trees.
She scanned the trees and sky for wires. This far out it could have been solar, a generator, or a Gatherer. She kept their speed steady. It was too late to hide.
“What is it?”
Storm had hoped Maria was taking whatever rest she could get. Instead, she was alert enough to notice Storm’s hesitation on the throttle.
She crouched down, holding a finger to her lips. Maria’s voice would travel across the water, above the rumble of the engine. Maria struggled to rise.
Storm waved her back down.
“It’s just a light. There’s no one there.”
Maria rose to one knee.
The current drove them hard downstream and they swept by the empty dock and single lighted window.
When it disappeared behind them, Maria collapsed back under the bow without a word. The river felt darker after the light, the obstacles harder to see. Storm navigated by the lightness of the water compared to the shore.
The rain had seeped through her coat and she fought with all her willpower to stay above the circling fatigue. She could barely see beyond the next few feet of black water, and her body ached with a full, deep exhaustion.
Something solid brushed on the right front. She spun the steering wheel left as the boat slid to a stop, lodged in a sandbar. The pitch of the motor rose as it churned against it.
She checked upstream as she shifted her weight forward and back. She turned off the motor and scrambled for a paddle, startled by the depth of rainwater that had accumulated in the back of the boat. She jammed the paddle blade into the sand and pushed. Her arms were slow to respond. She searched for more solid ground and pushed again as Maria moved beneath the bow.
“Stay where you are!”
Maria’s tangled hair appeared first, followed by her shoulders and hips. She was crawling, grasping the back of Storm’s seat and the dashboard to help her rise to her feet. She held tight to the top of the windscreen.
“You need to save your strength.”
“So do you.”
Storm climbed onto the bow, the deck slick with rain, and held onto a cleat as she lowered her legs over the edge. The water raced fast along the boat, its depth shrouded in blackness.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s fine. I’m good.”
“You don’t have the strength.”
Storm gasped as her feet touched the water. It was impossible that this icy flow had ever contained warmth.
She lowered slowly, her arms straining as pain shot into her feet and ankles. Mid-calf she could hold herself no longer and dropped into the water, panicked that there was no bottom until her feet sunk into grainy sand. The sand shifted and moved beneath her, the icy water at her mid-thigh.
“Get back in the boat!”
Maria hopped to Storm’s side and leaned over the edge.
Storm pushed and pulled, feeling for where the boat was stuck in the sand. She rocked it up and down in wider swings as her feet and calves ached. Maria hopped clumsily to the other side, using her weight to increase the swings. Rain ran down Storm’s back, blending her into the river.
The boat moved, shifted downstream. Another give and it floated free.
Storm grabbed the cleat and tried to haul herself up onto the bow. She rose a half step before her arms gave way. She slid back into the water, the boat pulling her downstream and off the sand bar. The water was just below her groin, getting deeper as she reached the edge of the sand shelf. If she kept hold she would be pulled off the sand bar and unable to hold herself on the boat.
“Jump!”
A sharp, strict order from Maria. Storm would have given anything to be able to carry it out.
She let the boat go, the current seeming to rush in with renewed strength. It whisked the boat far beyond Storm’s reach as it swirled faster and harder around her legs. The speed with which the boat floated away astonished her, powered by something beyond the current. She heard Maria curse. The current pulled the sand from beneath Storm’s feet. She stumbled backwards, to the top of the sand bar where the water reached her mid-thigh. Still stumbling and re-adjusting as the sand shifted beneath her, she paddled her hands in the frigid water to keep her balance. The river banks were far away, beyond the distance she could survive in the water.
Already her feet were numb, the air movement across her skin like tiny, icy blades. How long could she survive? Five minutes? Ten?
The boat had turned to an indistinct shadow against the downstream river bank. She couldn’t even see Maria’s shape inside it. She walked a few steps towards the distant shore. The water got deeper. The sandbar was an isolated island, not a bridge to shore.
“Maria!”
Her voice was a croak, not even reaching above the noise of rushing water. Her knees were numb, their strength wavering against the current.
The engine started far away. She couldn’t see it in the darkness, her body equally hard to see as it was drawn into the river’s icy cold.
She stepped towards the bank, going deeper into the water.
The lights were on in the boat, a tiny beacon moving impossibly slowly towards her. The current was winning, pressing against her legs. She moved her arms, trying to wave them but they barely came above her shoulders, like dead weights at the end of a string.
The sky was huge above her, hard and black, pulling and stretching out the landscape so that she grew even smaller, the distance between her and the boat farther. She felt like she could slip down. The water wouldn’t even feel cold. Float on the surface. Watch the stars and let the current carry her all the way to the sea. Already she felt less cold. A slow warmth spreading through her.
Then there came the brightness of a light in her eyes. Her arms were so heavy, her legs like weeds stuck in the sand and bent before the current.
Tough hands looped under her armpits, a sucking feeling around her ankles.
“Move your feet!”
She was too heavy. Maria was too weak. Until suddenly her feet broke free and she was rising up, her stomach scraping over the side of the boat. She was on top of Maria unable to move and colder than she had ever been in her life.
* * * *
Maria’s calf was on fire, a balloon of pain inflating to her entire leg, each hop to the steering wheel sending up a new jolt of agony.
“Take off your wet clothes. And your boots.”
Storm had hauled herself onto her knees but hadn’t done anything further. It was almost a relief to see the big muscular shaking as Storm’s body tried to re-warm itself. So much better than the minute tremors she could do nothing about.
Maria steered the boat close to shore and into the opening of a small tributary. She coasted close enough to grab hold of the branches of a fallen log and turned off the motor. Her foot touched down as she pulled the boat next to the log and pain ran from her leg to her spine. The pain she could manage. It was the chill of infection already running in her blood that would be the problem.
When she had the boat tied to the tree, she lowered herself gingerly next to Storm, who hadn’t gotten any further than loosening the laces on her boot. Maria undid the laces and helped her strip off her pants and underwear. She had boney hips, white thighs like sticks, and a dark patch of hair between her legs. There was the same dismissiveness of her body that Maria had seen at the cabin, as if it could no longer be Storm’s concern. Storm rolled under the bow, her arms shaking so badly Maria had to help her pull the sleeping bag and the emergency blanket over her.
The rain had eased, more a mist than drops, as Maria handed Storm a bar from the pack. She had wrapped herself in the bag, the top pulled over her head, only her pale moon face visible.
“Not hungry.”
Her words were clear and Maria felt a rush of relief. They might have a chance of keeping Storm from hypothermia.
“That was a stupid thing to do.”
Storm’s face was blank, her gaze averted from Maria.
“The boat was stuck.”
“We could have got it out together.”
Storm pulled the sleeping bag tighter around her.
“You were injured. I took care of it.”
“And almost got yourself killed.”
Storm’s hostility didn’t abate though she didn’t argue Maria’s point.
The narrow tributary shone silver, a relative brightness in the soaked grayness of the night. There were no lights in the distance, no sounds carrying over the river. How hard would the boat be to see from the main river? Was anyone even following?
“Move over.”
The space was small, and they were pressed close together. The emergency blanket was wrapped over Storm’s legs, the sleeping bags over both. Together they managed to generate a small core of warmth with the night air doing its best to steal it from them. Eventually Storm stopped shaking and Maria allowed herself to rest. Her leg throbbed and despite the heat between them, Maria oscillated between hot and cold, the wound in her leg the source of a white, hot heat.
NINETEEN
Storm woke to the putter of a boat moving slowly in the dark, men’s voices audible above its motor. Her body was sluggish and sore and she stumbled as she crawled out from under the bow, the air stripping the warmth from her bare legs. The beam of a spotlight raked the tree trunks on the opposite shore.
She couldn’t get her bearings, the river so much smaller than she remembered. The light panned across trees on a farther shore, and the smaller tributary off the main river took shape.
She untied the boat from the log, getting tangled in the branches in her haste, and by the time she held the untied end in her hand, the rumble and voices had moved up the main river, a final flash of light across the blank water their parting gesture. She crouched with the damp rope in her hand, but the threat had moved away, leaving her with a wildly pounding heart in the quiet of the forest. The trees on the opposite bank had fallen back into darkness, their outline darker against the luminous cloud backlit by the glow of the moon. A single star shone at the top of an unusually tall tree, before being overtaken by the mass of clouds.
“Who was it?”
Maria’s voice was weak and when Storm bent to check on her, she had raised herself to her elbo
w but no further.
“I couldn’t see.”
In the light of the flashlight, Maria looked drained, her skin the washed out paleness of porcelain. When Storm touched her forehead Storm’s hands were blocks of ice compared to the hot burn of Maria’s skin.
“It’s the infection.”
Maria spoke plainly, without pain or suffering, and her lack of concern frightened Storm more than anything.
“Now we definitely need a hospital.”
“No.”
Maria dropped back onto the life jackets, a dull glaze to her eyes.
“We don’t have a choice.”
“The fields will kill you.”
Storm tucked the sleeping bag back over Maria’s legs, rhyming through all the drugs in her head that could fight the infection. None of which she had.
“And the infection will kill you.”
Maria’s eyelids were already closing with fatigue and Storm was grateful to not have to argue with her.
“Watch out for the sand bars.”
A brisk wind from upriver drove the cold deeper into Storm’s bones. She zipped her coat to the top and put on a life jacket for warmth. She slid on her pants, the cold of the river still clinging to them.
The river banks streamed past, the spindly tamaracks and white spruce clustered together so tight no light showed between them. At each curve she expected to see the boat coming back towards them or hear the higher pitch of a faster boat overtaking them. Yet the fast-flowing water carried no other travelers, and the day brightened and the bite of the wind lessened without seeing another person.
She frequently dipped her hand over the edge and wet Maria’s face and neck. The icy water did little to break the fever’s hold and Storm pushed the boat faster, pressed against the windshield to stay away from the motor’s stronger field.
She had filled up the tank three times since the start of the day, and the two jerry cans lay empty on their sides. The day had waned, the darkness coming early and fast, the river’s bends revealing more stretches of unbroken shoreline. The landscape drew her forwards, pulling her through the waters that ran beneath them from a seemingly endless source—at times deep and shielded, other times a slight shallow stream racing above the speckled sand. As night drew in, the shoreline changed, stretching out so the river widened, the banks steepened, and hills loomed in the distance with the peaks of a mountain range behind.
The Gatherer Series, Book 1 Page 15