Free Wanted by Amanda Lance

and smelled of gasoline.
    “Don’t touch nothin’.”
    I gasped and felt my hand at my chest. “Don’t creep up on me!”
    He smiled. “I didn’t.”
    “Yes, you did!”
    He laughed and handed me the denim jacket I recognized from the night before. “What’s this for?”
    “Technically, you’re a stowaway. You should try not to get caught.” He handed me a red ball cap and watched intently as I put it on. Like the jacket, it was much too big, but I bundled up my hair and tucked as much of it as I could in the cap.
    “What happens if someone finds me here?”
    “They won’t.”
    “What if they do?”
    “They won’t, Addie. I won’t let ‘em.”
    I tried to laugh, but it didn’t come out right. “Yeah, right.”

    I followed him down a short set of halls and then up a bunch of painted stairs and more hallways. Although it felt good to move after so long, my body didn’t appreciate the long walk. The muscles in my shoulders and legs ached, but I was slightly amazed that thin bandages had been wrapped around my ankles where the skin had begun to blister. There was also a band-aid on my foot. When I was putting on the jacket I could smell a sort of ointment against the abrasions that circled my wrists. I felt instant hope at this realization. This meant there had to be a doctor on board. Someone had taken care of me, someone knew I was there. Maybe the Coast Guard was coming for me at this very moment.
    Once we reached the deck, I was grateful for both the hat and the jacket. The wind was downright ferocious, and when it bounced from the sea, the temperature dropped dramatically. I turned my head away as it made me shiver. Men, all wearing safety helmets and life vests, were scattered around, some busying themselves with tools, others doing things with cables and wires that I didn’t understand. I wanted to pretend they were all props in some great lie, that they were part of this practical joke being pulled on me, that maybe I was hallucinating, or had fallen down the rabbit hole.
    Beyond and around them lay the awesome, unending sea in rays of blue and black.
    He hadn’t been lying after all.
    Overwhelmed with nausea, I ran from Charlie and over to the edge. One of the men looked at me strangely but didn’t say anything. The sounds of hammering and brushing were terrible. How did these people work like this all day? I tried to figure if Dad would go into the office with me still gone. Oh God, poor Dad. He must be worried out of his mind. I stared into the vague blue of the sea and tried to send him a psychic message. I knew that stuff wasn’t real, but it was as good a time as any to doubt myself.
    “You ain’t gonna jump, right? ‘Cause I ain’t a great swimmer.”
    I glared at Charlie. He was struggling to light a cigarette against the lashing of the wind. I yanked it from his mouth and threw it into the sea.
    He stared at me, slack-jawed and silent.
    “Did I hear you say Singapore back there?” I hissed. “Did I hear you say six days?”
    He just smiled and pulled out another cigarette from his pocket. “Unless you’re a great swimmer, then…” I threw the new one as well.
    “Yeah.” He finished his thought and stared back and forth from me to his hands—amazed by the disappearance.
    I put my head between my legs and tried deep calming breaths. It wasn’t doing much good; I was officially freaking out and becoming dizzy from my panic.
    “What then?” I asked.
    “The American embassy is real close to the port. You can go straight there.”
    I stood back up and looked him in the eye, wanting, needing to know the answer. “How do I know you or someone else won’t kill me before then?”
    His eyes narrowed and he reached for a cigarette, but then smiled and put the pack away. “Guess you don’t.”
    I wanted to say something else, but couldn’t think of anything clever enough. That alone bothered me. Why should I care what this kidnapper, thief, who-knows-what-else, thought of me?