"Modifications? What modifications?" I frowned. The more we stalled, the less likely we were to make it a ways down river before Bee woke up.
A rustling from the boat caused us all to turn our heads.
Too late, I groaned to myself.
Bee was rooting around in the pile of supplies. She came up with graham crackers.
"Tootie!" she exclaimed proudly.
"Okay. Modifications for Alex – cookies for us."
After two hours of watching Alex work, and trying to keep track of Bee while she searched for more honeysuckle, we were finally ready to go.
I threw a full bag of the white petal flowers into the canoe and hopped in next to Bee as Alex pushed us off.
"She can sniff those out like a pro," Alex said.
"She knows what's important," I said, putting her on my lap. There was just enough room for my legs, which was far better than before. "Where did all the batteries go?"
"Hidden under the seats," he said, steering us away from the banks.
My heel hit wood underneath the bench.
"Hopefully it'll appear to just be part of the canoe. If we can hold onto them long enough, we might be able to trade our way into anything we need."
After Daybreak, batteries became the new currency. It was sometime during our last leg in Tennessee when seeing people tend their makeshift car greenhouses while listening to their iPods no longer seemed unusual.
"Picking up anything?" Alex asked Susan.
She was at the front of the canoe, with her hand in the water. "A lot of disturbance upriver."
"Could it be whatever tore apart the underground bunker?" I asked.
"Maybe. It’s powerful." She paused, skimming her fingers along the top of the calm river. "But nothing downstream so far as I can tell."
"Micah doing his part?" My question was rhetorical.
"Well, let's just get through this while the coast is clear, and hopefully whatever is behind us doesn't catch up," Alex said, rowing hard with his oar. "Kaitlyn, I could use a little manpower here."
I nodded, closing my eyes, tuning into the frequency of the air. A little downwind wouldn't hurt.
"Nope," he interrupted by tapping a wooden handle on my shoulder.
I took the other oar and frowned.
"He's right," Susan said, turning around. "We don't want to attract any unwanted attention. Only physical energy from here on out, unless it is an emergency."
I grumbled, angling my oar toward the water. I had literally never rowed a boat before. "I don't see you with a paddle."
Susan smiled, turning back to the water. "I'm the navigator."
Alex snickered. I looked back at him; his oar dragged in the water.
"What?" he said. "I'm steering."
The canoe jolted forward, and a small boulder hidden just under the river's surface scraped against the entire length of the boat.
"I just thought of a good name for our new ride," I said as I plunged my oar into the water and pulled back. "The Titanic."
Chapter 7
Dropping Anchor
Susan and Alex had their communication skills down to a science, and all potential icebergs were avoided. Around midday, Alex and I stopped banging our oars and settled into a coordinated pattern worthy of any high school row team. Bee took several naps, lulled to sleep by the rocking boat.
We pulled over to the side of the river by nightfall. Alex created an anchor by tying a dozen D batteries together with 550 cord. Extra blankets underneath and over me made for a more comfortable bed than I had in a long time. If every day went like this, I would be a happy camper. I kept my eyes peeled open as long as I could. It had become my evening ritual; less sleep meant fewer nightmares. But I was no match for the gentle rocking of the canoe on water, or Bee's comforting warmth.
* * *
"Easy there, princess." Shawn's words echoed through my head. His blue eyes floated in front of me. Fire surrounded us like a ring, blocking off any hopes of retreat. I could still hear Bee snoring in my ear. This was a dream. No – a nightmare. One I had already seen through to the end. But here I was again because there was some unresolved business.
I looked around; there was no one else.
Shawn held his Athame up, pointed at my neck. Something danced at my back, taunting me. But the knife held my attention.
"Where's the baby?" he asked.
I flinched, and the thing behind me flickered like a strobe light.
"Kaitlyn." My name on his lips, my real name, sounded foreign. "The baby is mine."
The light behind me started to rise. I knew I could stop it if I wanted. There would be consequences if I did, there would be consequences if I didn't. What outcome would be worse?
My insides shook with anxiety. I had to make a decision fast. I focused on the tip of the knife. Behind it, Shawn's lip curled up in a smile. "It's already too late."