Thirty-Two —
Sprint to a Finish

He climbed out of the van, and Blanche saw him fumble with his cigarettes, patting his back pockets. For a light? His bad habit gave Haasi and Blanche precious seconds. For once, smoking was a good thing.

“Now.”

The back door of the van flew open. Haasi’s command came with a surprising hold on Blanche’s wrist, and there was a clear field through the junk. Hands and ankles free, Blanche jumped out the back door behind Haasi, and they were gone. A sheer instinct for survival kicked in like a rocket.

Blanche found her legs as they raced away. Then they were in a tangle of mangrove. Safe. Clawing through the jungle?

They plunged deeper into the thick branches and waxy leaves and fought through the outgrowth. It caught them in a tight net, but they pushed out of it to the other side. The water was warm, almost pleasant at the swampy edge of the inlet. They stumbled through the limbs of the forest. Haasi ducked below the surface, and Blanche did the same. The world slid away, quiet and peaceful. She almost felt like staying there as the silky current carried them out of danger.

Maybe we’ve made it.

Blanche popped up and recognized where they were now—at a vast wasteland of scrub and growth south of Tampa Bay. She swam behind Haasi, around a bend, and onto a small outcropping of beach where they emerged and slipped on the rock-hard roots. Haasi danced over the mangroves like a hummingbird on the vine, guiding Blanche as they fled without looking back.

The roots were tightly woven, and the narrow limbs and dense leaves over the surface of the water were perfect cover for escape. Fish and other creatures that Blanche did not want to think about swam in and out of the tangle while she and Haasi wreaked havoc in the water world. If only these creatures knew what these large humans had created for themselves they’d be glad they were fish.

“Where are we going?”

Haasi put two fingers to her lips and shook her head, then signaled that they should swim. She led Blanche close to the shore where the water was shallow, and they glided off like otters along the bank.

The morning was overcast, but it was still early. Haasi kept her head down, barely above the water line, and she urged Blanche to do the same. They paddled through the grasses along the shore, hidden from all but the mullet and horseshoe crabs.

Blanche was exhausted, and grateful to Haasi for this crazy plan. They still had a long way to go, but she didn’t want to think about it. She glanced back several times, terrified she’d see the driver. With a knife or a gun? But the growth was so thick that she couldn’t see anything.

She didn’t know how long they swam, or in what direction. The inlet surrounded by mangrove began to open wider, and the water became clearer as they left the murky area near their escape.

“The bay,” Haasi said. One arm came up and pointed directly ahead. “Do you have your bearings?”

“Think so. We’re north of the island nearer Tampa, aren’t we? But I’ve never seen it from here.” Blanche was out of breath, but she pushed ahead. Haasi must have read her mind. They paddled toward shelter of a small beach at the opening to the bay. Haasi splashed over to the narrow spit of land, and Blanche followed.

They collapsed against a wall of sand packed solid from the water digging into the shore. The cove formed a shell of protection. Blanche had never been so relieved, and thirsty. She pushed thoughts of the awful morning from her mind and turned her face to the day’s first rays of sun. “Do you think we’re safe?” She was wet, but warmth filled her bones. She wanted to hug Haasi, and she did. Haasi smiled.

“For now. But they are still out there. We will have to deal with them.”

Blanche leaned back and closed her eyes. The humidity matched the temperature, so she would just stay wet and be glad they were both still alive.

“We will make it back to the island, and then you will have to hide,” said Haasi.

“I can’t just disappear. Cappy will be frantic, and those damn hairballs are still out there. I have to report this.”

“Hairballs? What is this?”

“These are people—unsavory types with nothing more than eyes and hair. And no brains.”

“Hmmm. I see. That is interesting. It seems there are many hairballs involved here.”

Haasi scooted over to a large patch of tall grass and sat cross-legged. She motioned to Blanche to join her so they were out of plain view on the beach.

“First of all, Haasi, how did you ever get involved in this and, of all things, manage to hide in that van?”

“I told you. I listen. And I see. And I am with you. I am concerned for your safety.” Haasi dusted the sand off her hands and looked around. “We can talk about all of these things at another time. We should move on.”

But Blanche didn’t move. “OK, but you were on the lookout at Cappy’s. At five in the morning?”

“I planned to see you early. Your friend, the fine old fisherman, went out, and then I see this white van drive around. It stops in the dark. I want to warn you but it is too late. It all happens so fast. This man comes out of the van and is soon scraping at your door. It looks like he is trying to get in, and he should not be doing this. Then I see that he is dragging you along. You put up resistance, and that gives me time. I decide to move, to hide. To help you.” She stopped then. Blanche leaned forward, hopeful she would tell her more. But Haasi straightened up. “It is simply a matter of common sense.”

“You hid in the van?”

“Yes. It was easy. I am small, and the buckets big. And the van is extra big. I knew he would put you in there. Either that, or kill you in the house. I was ready.”

Blanched shuddered to think what that meant, but she wouldn’t have been surprised if Haasi was capable of producing a grenade or saber, or at least a sharp kitchen knife. She was inventive, and prescient to the point that Blanche was in awe of what she had accomplished in a couple of hours.

Haasi stared at the water, sadness etched around her eyes. “I wish I were faster, so that he does not remove you as he did. I am sorry, Blanche.”

“Oh, Haasi. How could you know? How could anyone know?”

“That is the problem. We should know what these, as you say, hairballs are planning.”

“How did we get out of the van?”

“Cloth. I put a cloth in the backdoor latch. I closed the door but not so tightly. I did this because I was certain he would lock the doors when he got in, and he did. You remember the click?”

“No.”

“It is good to listen,” she said. “I pushed it open when he stopped and got out to smoke. We were ready to leave then.”

“Oh, you got that right. So ready.”

“I’m thinking.” She put an index finger on her chin and looked up. “It’s good the back door of the van didn’t fly open. Those buckets would have made a terrible noise. But, then, maybe that would have been good. It would have been another means of escape when he stopped to investigate.”

Good lord. Blanche put her head against the wall of sand and let out a huge sigh. She turned to Haasi. “Thanks.”

“No thanks is ever needed.”

They dozed in the warm autumn sun. Blanche couldn’t tell how long they sat there. Time didn’t seem to have any edges. It just flowed out around her, like the bay.

Haasi sat upright with her hands raised to shoulder level, like she was praying. Blanche watched the concentration on Haasi’s face, smooth and peaceful, completely removed from the disaster they had both escaped. She opened her eyes and smiled at Blanche.

“Are you rested? We must go.”

“Go?” Where? How? Blanche stared out across the bay. But she had to go—get up and put one foot in front of the other, get on with it. It seemed like everywhere she stepped was disaster.

“We walk.”

She dragged herself up and followed Haasi. She was dying of thirst, surrounded by salt water. It drove her mad, her vision blurry with fatigue and anxiety.

“How far?” She could see the bridge but the path was hidden, and it was difficult to determine distance.

“Do not worry.”

Blanche’s shoulders slumped. She felt near to falling down, but she fought it and picked her way along the trail. She had been all over the island and surrounding mainland up and down the coast. But the area looked different from a boat or car as compared to looking at it while trudging through the mangrove and swimming along the remote shore. After being kidnapped.

Haasi reminded Blanche of a tiger, creeping through the grass. Deliberate and sure. They had left behind a wide patch of thick growth, not only mangrove but scrub palms, dune grass and sprouting pines and live oak. It was so overgrown that light seemed to die within the wall of the dark green jungle.

Haasi nodded. “I think our trail is cold. We are not followed.” She signaled Blanche, and the two trekked along the beach hugging a cliff of sand.

The Buccaneer Pass Bridge rose up in the distance. It connected the north end of the island with the bay side at the mainland.

“We are going there. It is the fastest way back. Let us be quick, and quiet.”

It was the only way. They had to make it to that bridge. Swimming to the island was out of the question. The current and sharks would get them before the white van caught up.

Blanche could see freedom ahead—the bridge a link to safety—and it exhilarated her. But the van was out there. It wouldn’t have turned around and gone back to wherever it came from, leaving them to run free through the mangrove. Her mind raced with the unknown possibilities. They were still in deep, even when, and if, they made it back.

“It’s good the bridge is not so well-traveled at this hour. That’s a consideration,” said Blanche.

“This could be good, or it could be bad,” said Haasi. “It is nice to get help. But for now, the plan is to stay together.” Blanche did not question that. She longed to get back to the island, get dry, drink a large bottle of water, and about a gallon of hot coffee.

Haasi hardly seemed bothered at all. She blended with the dune grass. She even looked comfortable in her scant, faded clothes, despite their harrowing escape. Blanche drew a deep breath.

They picked their way over broken shell and driftwood. Blanche stumbled, but Haasi was light as a gull, barely leaving a track in the sand.

They arrived near the base of the bridge. Except for two cars off in the distance, there was no traffic. And, best of all, no van. The sun climbed higher.

Her thirst was huge, but they trudged on. Neither one wore shoes. Blanche’s feet warmed to the concrete pathway approaching the bridge, but soon her soles were burning. Haasi reached the bridge, signaled, and started to dash over the span. It was hard to keep up. The girl was fast as a deer.

“Hurry. We should get out of view.” Haasi called over her shoulder. She was nearing the other side.

Blanche was in the middle of the bridge when she heard the unmistakable rumble. She didn’t want to believe it. It can’t be. The white van pulled up alongside her.

Stick together. It was about the only rule Gran had for Jack and Blanche, and now she remembered it. My God, Haasi had just repeated it.

“Keep going, Blanche. Run. Keep up.” Too late. Haasie was still shouting back at Blanche. She could hear her, but she couldn’t see her. The van blocked her view, and so did desperation. She was caught. Again. The door of the van opened on the passenger’s side. An arm reached out and grabbed Blanche, immobile with fear, gasping for breath.

Damn, this dude is strong!

She last saw a glimpse of Haasi on the other side, but it might as well have been the other side of the moon. Haasi’s expression froze and her mouth formed an O, her arms outstretched.

Either the driver didn’t know Haasi was close by, or he didn’t care. Apparently, it was Blanche he was after.

The van sped off. It passed Haasi, ripping down the two-lane road before making a U-turn. Blanche hit a pile of buckets heaped on the carpet and tried to steady herself while the van rocked and shimmied.

She was fed up with this mode of transportation, tossed on to the oily old floor, but she tried not to think about it. The world would end soon enough. Surely this guy was heading off to some remote area to finish the job.

Haasi hid in plain sight behind pilings as she watched the van speed away. She managed to get a clear shot at the license plate number. And as it turned out, she had a very good memory.