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With a neck-snapping jolt, we plunged into the Mississippi, nose first. Water poured in, soaking us and drawing another squeal from Garnet. Chaos and screams erupted around me. I said a prayer, sucked in a breath, and hit the switch to engage the pontoon feature built into the vehicle. The buggy sprang to the surface, rolling side to side as each pontoon inflated beneath us with a series of pops and groans. Water seeped out and we were suddenly afloat. I gripped the steering wheel but had no control. The water churned around us. Three other vehicles floated in various states of doom, bobbing downriver.
The current swept us away from the burning ship. There was nothing I could do. I prayed Dalton and the others had found a way off in time, but my heart sank as the vessel in my rearview burned brightly against the morning sky. Thick smoke billowed through the air and the drones disappeared. I had more immediate problems in front of me, not the least of which was learning to drive a floating car. The accelerator and steering mechanisms weren’t responding and I had no propulsion to turn us around and go up river against the current.
Maia reached under the dashboard, snaking her way between me and the steering wheel.
“What are you doing?”
A moment later the buzz of an outboard motor sounded and I had control. Maia climbed back to her seat and buckled in, pointing at the other cars, their roofs barely visible above the water. How she’d known the switch was there was a question for another time.
I steered across the current and slowly turned away from the destruction and debris. I needed to get as far away as possible from the ship and any more drone patrols. Hopefully, they figured we were dead—again. I sighed. Obviously, Dalton’s plan to make the Industry think we had died in the plane crash hadn’t worked. Either that or the dirty rat of a ship’s cook had somehow given us away. I accelerated out of my turn and aimed toward the far eastern bank of the wide river. If I skirted the embankment and took advantage of cover in the small inlets and coves, I might be able to keep us hidden. A balmy wind blew through my hair and helped shake off the shock of my abrupt wakeup call, while at the same time it sent a chill through my wet clothes. I glanced back one more time.
The burning ship grew smaller in the distance. Maia stared out the back, her dark eyes fixed on the scene. Garnet gulped for air and Tyler’s expression was as solemn as I’d ever seen it. Sensing the need for someone to be in control, I steadied myself. The vehicle wasn’t so difficult to maneuver once I got the feel for acceleration and learned to compensate with the steering wheel. Soon, the old desert buggy skipped across the surface like a water bug. I zigzagged a few times before finding a balance.
Luckily, the waters were calm, the air clear, and no one was in sight ahead or behind us. The buzz of the motor at top speed and the sound of the wind drowned out any discussion, which was for the best since we all needed time to process what had happened. No one spoke until we reached the far side of the river where I was able to slow down and take stock of our predicament.
“We have to trust that Dalton is safe and that he’ll meet us in Memphis,” I said, once I didn’t have to yell to be heard. The noise died down further as I pulled alongside the embankment and trolled slowly upriver, trying to stay hidden and keep moving.
Maia caught Tyler’s attention, and a moment later he spoke for her. “Maia says she knows the place where Dalton will meet us. It’s not far from here.”
Relieved to hear we had some direction, my shoulders relaxed a fraction. We needed to get off the river as soon as possible. Passing the occasional barge or houseboat as we meandered up the coastline, I gave a wide berth to boat launches and private docks, not willing to give anyone the chance to question our strange vessel.
The muddy banks of the Mississippi had eroded in many spots and I was forced to drift away from the coastline to avoid sandbars and debris. Thick trees populated the land to our east, broken only by small villages that cropped up, evidence that groups of survivors had banded together to embark on the arduous task of rebuilding with only the barest of essentials. As painful as it was to see the poverty, it reassured me that the Industry hadn’t sunk their claws into this region yet.
I maneuvered the boat around the next curve of the river and Maia tapped Tyler’s leg vigorously. He pointed and called out, “She wants us to pull up to the beachfront.”
Ahead was a dock with a ferry launch, people clamoring to board the next boat. Buildings rose up on the shoreline, including what looked like a large pavilion and another with a sign for a casino emblazoned across its roofline. A small patch of sandy beach lay off to one side. I cut the motor and drifted into shore, uncertain how to disengage the pontoons.
Once again, Maia reached underneath the steering column and flipped a switch. The pontoons released a massive puff of air and began folding in on themselves, disappearing beneath the chassis and allowing the bulky tires to hit land in the shallow water. The vehicle rolled up onto the beach and came to a stop.
“How did you know?” I asked, staring at Maia with admiration and curiosity.
Tyler cleared his throat, both he and Maia avoiding eye contact with me or with each other. Finally, Tyler said, “She doesn’t want to talk about it now, but Dalton can tell you her story when we meet up with him again.”
Maia’s confidence in her benefactor, her capabilities despite her impairment, and the determined set to her jaw gave me reason to hope her faith wasn’t misplaced and that we were on our way to safety.
Smiling, I met her gaze. “Which way from here?”
Maia directed me to the main road, a crumbled remnant of highway that led past the outskirts of Memphis. I took the exit she signaled and we continued on to increasingly smaller and less well-preserved roads, passing abandoned neighborhoods, and moving further out of the suburbs with each turn. When we finally turned onto a dirt road leading into a forest of tall trees, I wondered if we were getting close to our destination. If Maia’s growing excitement was any indication, we’d be there soon.
A few minutes later, we turned into a long driveway leading to an old mansion. Massive maples lined the way, their branches hanging over to create a shaded tunnel, which led straight to what was once likely a horse farm. A few broken-down buildings and a large stable were tucked neatly beneath another mammoth stand of trees. A split rail fence surrounded the property. Garnet sat forward and hooked a hand on my seat. “Where are we?”
Tyler responded, answering for Maia. “This is the meeting place. She says we’ll be safe here and Dalton will come as soon as he can.”
I tried not to let my doubt show as I rounded the circular drive and parked in front of the pillared mansion. Ivy and vines trailed up the sides of the old house and all but engulfed the slate roof. With the grounds grown over and the grass tall on either side of the drive, the place would appear abandoned from above if it could be seen at all.
Maia signaled me to park the vehicle under the carport, a covered-bridge-type structure on one end of the house—probably used for horse and carriage when the place was first built in the 1800’s. A worn bronze placard with the exact date hung beside the tall front door, which had a horse’s head knocker and faded red paint. The brick red trim and lopsided shutters were a stark contrast to the white house and cream- colored limestone pillars that indicated the wealth of previous inhabitants. It was clear the house had undergone many revisions in its lifetime. Two rocking chairs and a porch swing sat idly off to one side of the wide wraparound that disappeared into a hedge of aromatic pink tea roses in full bloom.
The midmorning heat already had me sweaty and thirsty. I tugged my water container out of my bag and sucked down the last of my supply. “I hope this place has a working well,” I said as Maia unlocked the front door and we stepped into the cool foyer. My voice echoed in the two-story expanse. A sweeping staircase rounded upward and windows with stained glass magnified the sunlight in a rainbow of color on the marble parquet floor.
“Wow,” said Garnet, her head craning to take in the detailed moldings, the rich mahogany wood trim, and such additions as ceramic vases stuffed with dried flowers and landscape paintings lining the walls. “This place is like a museum.”
“Maia says we can pick out any rooms we want on the second floor. There are bathrooms off of two of them and there should be clean towels on the shelves.” Tyler’s eyes brightened. “She says there should also be plenty of hot water. A solar generator makes electricity and there’s natural gas for cooking.” He met the girl’s gaze and grinned for the first time all day. “Maia will make us some food while we get cleaned up.”
Taking her cue, Maia retreated down a hallway, presumably headed for the kitchen. Tyler, Garnet and I headed to our respective quarters. At the top of the wide staircase, there were a half-dozen rooms to choose from, but I chose one in the center of the house facing the front, hoping to have a clear view of anyone approaching. I plopped onto a four-poster bed with feather mattress, fluffy pillows, and a feminine, floral bedspread—as antique as everything else in the place. Two small end tables on either side of the bed were stacked with books—mostly classics of the Stephen King and James Patterson variety. Matching lamps sat in the center of each. I switched one on and then off again to make sure it worked.
I peeked into the drawers of a dresser on one wall, each drawer filled with clothes of various sizes and states of disrepair. After rifling through, I found a pair of old denims that fit loosely and a plain black top to match my boots. Clean socks and underwear were a definite bonus. I headed for the bathroom and stopped as I opened the door. My heart leapt. A deep claw-foot bathtub greeted me. I prayed for hot water as I turned on the faucet and plugged the drain. When I finally climbed into the hot water and sank in up to my nose, my weary mind couldn’t imagine what came next.
Absently, I scrubbed my skin with a cake of goat milk soap, the grainy texture taking off the layers of dried blood and soot from my hands and arms. Sinking below the water, I rinsed my hair, working out the matted knots around what was previously a two-inch gash along my hairline from the head injury I’d sustained back on the plane.
As much as I hated to cut my bath short, I was anxious to see what was on the menu. My growling stomach gave away the fact that I’d missed breakfast and that it was past noon. When I was finally dressed, I followed the trail of mouthwatering aromas. A granite center island in a surprisingly modern kitchen held a row of steaming plates, Maia busy preparing more. Tyler chowed down on what looked like a large meatball dripping with gravy as I pulled up a bar stool.
“What smells so delicious?”
Tyler answered around a mouthful. “Everything.” He sucked down a glass of lemonade, his cheeks puckering as he swallowed. “Those are venison meatballs. Next to them are steamed summer squash, zucchini, and okra. And this,” he added as he stabbed a fork into a sliced round on his plate, “is a fried green tomato.” He stuffed his mouth full again and closed his eyes, lost in culinary heaven. Maia’s dark eyes gleamed proudly as she filled another plate with what smelled like catfish.
Garnet joined us a few minutes later, her dark hair still wet, combed to a shine, and pulled back in a long ponytail. Even with the dark smudges of fatigue and worry beneath her eyes, she looked beautiful. She had obviously found clothes to her liking in her room, choosing to wear skin-tight black leather pants and a lightweight knitted top, which nicely accentuated her curves.
“I’m starving,” she said, eyeing the food and then flashing a grateful smile at Maia.
“Maia worked in a kitchen at one of the biggest hotels in Baton Rouge,” said Tyler, reaching for another slice of tomato and some fish to round off his meal. “That was before...” He met her gaze, pausing before he continued, as if asking her permission to share her thoughts. An imperceptible nod passed between them and he went on. “She lost her family in the tsunami that took out the Gulf Coast and forced survivors inland.” He stopped again and addressed the girl directly. “I should tell them what happened to you. It’s not like it was your fault.” Maia turned her back and began cleaning the countertop, her movements jerky and harsh as he continued.
“A South American drug lord captured her and forced her into slavery when she was sixteen. She knew about the pontoons on the Border Patrol vehicle because he had one like it and traveled up and down the swamps kidnapping young women and selling them to slavers. He kept her for himself, trained her to fight, and used her to keep the other girls in line. He taught her to hunt and survive—until he lost her in a poker game to Dalton in a bar in Memphis last year. But before he handed her over...” Tyler’s gaze dropped to his hands. “He cut out her tongue so she could never reveal his secrets.” Tyler glanced at me. “They made Dalton watch.” Tyler choked back his emotions and his expression clouded as I imagined his head filling with the perpetual screams that must resound in Maia’s horrific memories, and what it must have been like for a man like Dalton to stand by and see a young woman be brutalized. As he finished her story, she turned to face us, her eyes glassy and brimming with venom.
Not knowing what else to say, I offered what I could. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Maia. The cruelty in this world is inexcusable. Some people can be inhuman.” Heartbreak dimmed my effort to smile. “At least Dalton took you away from all that, right?”
She nodded and stared at her feet, unable to hide her emotions and not wanting to give in to the tears I sensed were just below the surface.
The conversation turned to planning our next move. “How long should we wait here for Dalton?” Garnet asked, cutting through the details to the important question on all our minds.
Tyler spoke again for Maia. “She says Dalton is resourceful and has contacts all over the South. If anyone could have escaped that ship, it was him. She expects him to arrive any time now.”
But as the sun drifted across the sky and shadows filled the old mansion, it became increasingly clear that Dalton’s return was less than certain.
