Sadie Walker Is Stranded Read Online Free PDF Page B

couldn’t guess. It was the principle of the thing, I suppose. Arturo shoved the unlucky ones away, back toward the end of the dock. A pretty woman in bloody nurse’s scrubs burst into tears. This seemed to make Arturo change his mind and he grumbled and nodded toward the boat. The nurse climbed aboard, still sobbing, as the other “chosen ones” joined us.
    Arturo scrambled up the plank resting against the edge of the boat and then kicked it over the side, stranding four poor souls at the end of the dock, their mouths falling open as they quickly realized the extent of their predicament. The outboard motor roared to life. I turned away, lurching back and forth as Arturo ran up the sails and the boat rocked. Screams followed us out onto the water, screams that died down to resigned groans. I grabbed Shane’s ankles as he let go of my neck to cover his ears. He whimpered. A splash. Someone had jumped off the dock. They paddled toward us, gulping down seawater as they fell farther and farther behind. The water out in the bay had grown foggy, the color of dishwater.
    Someone tugged on my sweater sleeve. Andrea was beside me, her messenger bag now resting on the deck, wedged between her knees. Arturo was shouting in Portuguese, to us or himself, I couldn’t tell. Splashing … screaming … blood thundering in my ears as I tried to take in the panic and confusion. Back south, at the terminal, the ferry had drifted out into the bay, white and green and tiered, like an enormous rusted layer cake drifting into the fog. But this cake was on fire, pouring with smoke and going slower by the second. I couldn’t imagine what was worse—jumping into the deep, freezing bay to escape the fire or burning to death while the ferry began to sink.
    “Jesus Christ,” Andrea muttered, reaching for her floppy cap.
    The ferry stopped in the middle of the bay, distant screams accompanying the shadows that flickered down over the side as desperate passengers jumped.
    “Still wish you were on land?” Andrea asked.
    “Thanks,” I said. “We owe you one.”
    “Sure.”
    I looked at her, tired of looking at the ferry, at carnage. We had trusted each other the moment we met. It was at a bar years ago. We were both single, flirting with our thirties, both tipsy and trying to fend off the horny sharks circling the dance floor. Maybe I felt I could trust her because, in many ways, we’re very similar, even physically. Both of us are petite, with dark, straight hair. She keeps hers in a long, no-nonsense ponytail and I cut mine in a messy, banged Louise Brooks bob. We both have pale, almost aqua-colored eyes. Her face is more severe and angular, like a fox’s, with a pointed nose and mine is softer—more elfin, I suppose.
    “It’s not all bad,” Andrea said with a sly smile. I didn’t see how that could be true. She nodded discreetly to the space over my right shoulder. Behind us, two men stood together, their hands on the railing of the deck as they watched the ferry go down in the middle of the harbor. One was young, just a teenager, the other was in his mid-thirties. I rolled my eyes and glanced over my shoulder at Shane, silently warning her. Luckily, Shane seemed to be slightly less anxious now that we had left the dock without sinking. I squeezed his hand and let him down like a monkey from my shoulders.
    Andrea shrugged, staring stubbornly at her quarries. They were all hers. With Shane to worry about, I didn’t have the energy to think about making a love connection.
    “Please tell me you mean the grown-up,” I said to Andrea, hoping that would be the end of that.
    “Don’t be such a prude,” she said.
    As we set out into the harbor there were seven of us onboard—myself, Andrea, Shane, Uncle Arturo, the nurse with the round, pretty face, the teenage boy Andrea had pointed out and the tall man in his thirties. The air was crisp and clammy with the fog. I had always had a fear of drowning and it took most of my energy to