THE COTTAGE
CHAPTER 19
Caroline Fights For herLife
Caroline expected the frigid water, but not the horror of it. Water filled her mouth, and she sputtered. Her heart pounded in her ears as she gasped for air.
Stop this nonsense! Get control of yourself! Breathe!
She fought the panic and forced her breathing into a slower rhythm.
Control will keep you alive, Caroline.
I know, Daddy.
In that moment, she saw the dock light. She began swimming in that direction. But every stroke pulled her sideways.
Focus, Caroline. Put your legs in motion like a turbine.
But, Daddy, it’s too hard.
You did it as a teen, and you can do it now!
It wasn’t dark then. And you and Mommy were right there with me.
And we are with you now. You are still our harbor seal.
Caroline pumped and pulled, pumped and pulled. She straightened her course. The light on the dock seemed to draw her closer.
Suddenly, the current pulled her below the surface. She needed to breathe, but if she did, she would drown. She was so tired. Her legs and arms were freezing up, and her lungs burned.
She opened her eyes and looked up. She thought she saw the moon shimmering on the water. Her eyelids were heavy, like her limbs.
Caroline, what is this? A pity party? Follow that light. Let it be your guide. You’ve had a moment of rest. Now flutter those feet, and you will rise. When you break the surface, set your breathing pace to normal. I can help you, Caroline. Take my hand.
Okay, Daddy. Just don’t leave me.
I won’t. I’m right here.
She fluttered her feet, slowly at first, getting nowhere. Then, little by little, she rose. When her head broke the surface, she sucked in a breath, then another.
It’s not the moon. It’s the light on the dock. There’s a man on the dock now. I must be hallucinating.
She knew hallucinations could come before death. Her legs and arms felt like stone.
So this is how my life ends? After all I’ve been through? No, Jonathan. I’m not ready to join you.
The voice was not Jonathan. There really was a man on the dock, and he was calling to her. She couldn’t make out his words, but she understood his gestures. He was swinging a life vest.
“Try to grab this when I toss it! Grab hold as tight as you can!”
He flung it toward her, but her fingers and hands simply wouldn’t work.
He swung harder the next time. This time she pulled it against her chest. Using only her arms, she clutched it to herself as he pulled.
The dock light grew brighter.
They both heard it at the same time.
An engine.
The boat.
Dmitri!
Caroline struggled to hold onto the vest, but she was so very cold, so very sleepy. Her body was rejecting life.
Then she was being hauled up, out of the water. “Miss, listen to me! Do as I say. Exactly as I say!” His voice was urgent.
But his was not the reassuring voice of her father.
“I’m so sorry, Miss. I have to do this.” He slapped her face, hard.
Caroline heard the slap, though she was too numb to feel it.
Still, something stirred inside her. She took a sharp breath. It hurt her lungs, but she took another.
The light was brighter here. She opened her eyes and met the eyes of a stranger. Her savior did not look like a hero. He was scared out of his wits.
Caroline was suddenly alert. The fear in her rescuer’s face said it all.
Dmitri was closing in. The engine was louder, heading toward them.
“I must hide. You must hide, too. The men in that boat are wicked.” His eyes burrowed deep into hers. She heard—no, she felt—his panic.
Caroline began to shiver violently.
She tried to stand. Her knees buckled. The boy caught her beneath the arms.
Her body wanted to lie down. Caroline refused it.
She stood.
The stranger thrust a blanket and a flask into her arms.
“Run, Miss! As fast as you can.”
“Where?” she chattered, her teeth clinking together. Rat-a-tat-tat.
“Five shacks back. Look for a red skiff. It’s overturned. Climb under it, and don’t move or make a sound!”
“But you are coming with me,” she stammered.
Now she saw his sea-blue eyes. The cleft in his chin. Peach fuzz.
He was just a boy!
He shook his head. “No. I’ll send them the other way. You must go! Now!”
He pushed her. She nearly lost her footing, but she got the message.
Once again, she pumped her legs, impossibly slow at first, forcing them to obey.
She looked back. “What’s your name?” she gasped, trying to steady her breathing.
But he was already gone.
A bright beam of light caught her, holding her. And like a deer in the headlights, she froze.
For a split second, she was blinded. She turned her back to it and began again.
She kept going, beyond the red overturned skiff.
Listen to my voice, Caroline. The red skiff might be a lure, part of Dimitri’s vile plan. Run, sweetheart, run!
But, Daddy, he’s just a boy. He saved me!
Your instincts are strong, I trust you, Caroline, but what happens if Dmitri finds him? What then?
So Caroline ran til there was no more air to breathe. Her clothes grew heavier. Her body craved rest. Still clutching the blanket and flask, she stopped.
“How I wish I had Jonathan’s trail guide,” she mumbled.
The sun was coming up, creating shafts a of light through the trees.
I’m lost. I’m cold and wet. I’m tired, to the bone. Take me back to my bed in the cottage. Please!
If I could, I would!
She slumped, her back against a tree. She was thirsty.
A loud CRACK. Then a crashing.
Daddy, he’s found me!
Panic erupted, like a flare gun. It was a warning.
It was a moose, grazing. It’s huge head swung side to side. He meant her no harm. She just wished she could borrow his heavy coat.
She had to find safe haven. If not the red skiff, then what?
Observe, Caroline!
That was her father’s voice. She looked around. She stood and called out for him. He wasn’t there.
But then she saw it. A few yards away was an enormous red spruce tree. When it fell, it brought its giant root ball with it, hiding a large depression in the earth.
There were dried berries of some kind. She didn’t feel hunger, but at some point, she would need nutrition. She didn’t recognize these berries left from last summer. Best to leave them be.
It was more important to get out of the heavy, wet clothes. They were nearly frozen to her body. Foraging for food was not her priority now. Avoiding frostbite was.
Oh, Daddy, you taught me well.
She opened the blanket. Out fell a folded pair of long johns.
“Oh, you are a sweet boy,” she said aloud.
Caroline stripped off the wettest layers and pulled on the dry long johns. Then she crawled into the hollow beneath the root ball and made herself a nest.
She wrapped the blanket tightly around her and unscrewed the thermos. She was amazed that the drink was still hot. She swallowed, feeling the heat race down her throat and into her chest, igniting a tiny fire.
She took another sip, then stopped herself.
Save it. You don’t know how long you’ll be out here.
Caroline screwed the cap back on.
The boy had thought of everything. Dry clothes. Something warm to drink. A hiding place.
Who are you?
And why had he been so frightened?
She pictured his sea-blue eyes, the cleft in his chin, the ridiculous peach fuzz that tried and failed to make him look older.
Then she remembered what he had said.
The men in that boat are wicked.
Not that man. Men.
Caroline pulled the blanket tighter.
Somewhere beyond the trees, an engine growled.
She froze!
It was fainter now, almost lost beneath the wind moving through the spruce. She couldn’t tell whether it came from the water or a distant road.
Observe. Think. Plan.
She listened.
The engine faded.
A raven called somewhere overhead. Another answered farther away. The forest was waking around her, indifferent to whether Caroline lived or died.
She looked toward the opening beneath the roots. From where she lay, she could see only a narrow slice of woods.
Good.
If she couldn’t see out, perhaps no one could see in.
But what about tracks?
Her feet must have left prints in the soft earth.
Too late to fix that now.
She needed strength. When daylight came fully, she would have to figure out where she was. Find a road. A house. Something.
Oh, Jonathan, I need your book.
She could almost see it lying on her bedside table back at the cottage, its worn cover bent at the corners.
He had known these trails.
You would surely know how to direct me home.
For the first time since the ocean escape, she felt almost safe.
She closed her eyes.
Just for a second.
Still shivering, Caroline fell asleep.
Dear Reader,
I’m happy to announce that a professional, talented reader is preparing THE URN for an Audible release early in November. Watch, er, listen for it!
Also in November, I’ll be doing a book talk/reading at the Pottstown Library. I will let you know the date!
Your local author,
Elaine
etlainie92@gmail.com
www.elainestories.com