Free Sadie Walker Is Stranded by Madeleine Roux Page B

were alive, damn it, and I couldn’t care less if it made little boys squishy and pouty to have their aunts show affection. But he didn’t flinch away. For a second, even half-drowned and freezing, my spirits actually lifted.
    Gradually, it was dawning on us all that we were fucked, really and truly fucked. Uncle Arturo was the only person skilled enough to actually steer the boat and navigate the maze of inlets in which we now drifted, helpless and afraid. How long would the gas in the motor last? And how long until we needed more food and water? I wasn’t going to be the one to say that fishing was out of the question.
    Andrea had none of my reservations. “We have to keep moving,” she said, a note of dread in her voice. She took off her hat and wrung it like a sponge. “What if they can get onto the boat? We can’t stop.”
    She gave us a minute to let that sink in; the thought of underwater monsters crawling up onto the boat while we slept just about made me burst into tears. This was not a conversation I wanted to have in front of Shane, but there was no other choice. I wasn’t letting him go and we needed to come to some sort of conclusion about our journey. I could feel a bruise forming on my heel where the zombie had nearly dragged me under. Emotions run high when your one and only navigator becomes a Jackson Pollack original splattered across the stern. I shuddered, thinking how close I had come to that exact same fate.
    “Stay calm,” Moritz said—reasonably, I thought. “There should be enough food to last for at least a week, if we’re careful.”
    “And then what?” Andrea asked, throwing up her hands.
    “Then we land,” I said with reasonable confidence. “We can’t stay on this thing forever.”
    “We could go back,” Noah said, throwing in his two cents with a shrug. “I’m sure I can figure out how to turn this thing around.”
    “No,” I said, this time more boldly. “We can’t go back. The city’s lost.”
    “I agree,” Moritz said.
    “So what do you suggest we do?” Andrea asked irritably. She hovered between the cockpit and the railing, pacing a trench into the deck.
    “We might be near the San Juan Islands soon,” a helpful, squeaking voice spoke up. Each head turned together. Cassandra had finally opened her mouth, standing bloodied and wide-eyed at the bow, some feet beyond the cockpit. “We could land there.”
    Silence. Apparently no one else had a better idea or even a quick rebuttal. The afternoon, which had earlier seemed so promising and simple—swimming, fishing, card games—had taken a sharp turn for the worse.
    And it was growing dark. I wanted to be alone.
    “Can we have a minute?” I asked, nudging Moritz when he didn’t respond. “Alone?”
    “Come on,” Andrea said, motioning to the cockpit. “We can check the maps and see if anything makes sense.”
    Shane relaxed when the others sidled away, his stubborn little fists easing apart. I gave him another one-armed hug, ruffling his hair with a mingled sense of relief and dread. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t manage to protect him from misery. He had seen Arturo die. He had almost watched me drown … I never expected our life together to be a day at the park, but this was getting pretty wretched. Someone had failed to protect Cassandra. She cried all the time. I didn’t want that for Shane. He might always be quiet and serious, but he didn’t have to be abandoned.
    “I’m okay, bud,” I warbled unconvincingly, teetering from the cold.
    “Okay,” Shane replied. “That’s good.”
    “Your granddad taught me some stuff,” I continued, fighting through the tingling shivers in my limbs. “I know it seems tough right now but we’ll stick together and get through it. That’s not just blowing smoke. Granddad taught me to fish, to camp … I can teach you those things too.”
    Shane shrugged. He was so very good at ruining my little moments of inspiring speech.
    “Are there