The Island - Part 2 (Fallen Earth) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Dwight’s daddy. He’s been sweet on me since my husband died twenty years ago. The feelin’ is not mutual but as long as a man ain’t weird, it don’t hurt to be nice to him.”
    She looked up over the edge of her cup and grinned. “He’s the real law in this part of the state. That’s why Dwight backed up so quick at the store. Five minutes after he drove away with you, the pho ne woulda been ringing and his poppa on the other end.”
    I sipped at the coffee and took another experimental hit off the cigarette. I’d forgotten how deliciously well those two went together.
    She pointed inside the cabin.
    “I turned on the radio a few minutes ago. There’s a warm front heading up coast that’s going to smack right into this cold air. We’re sitting at ground zero for that collision. That means big storms, maybe even a tornado,” she said and paused long enough to puff at her cigarette.  “That’s another reason not to go traipsing off across the water. That mast up there reminds me of a big lightning rod.  I’ve seen what that does to a boat. If you make it past the strike, you got to deal with floating around in the water on your own. I’m too old for that.”
    “Me too,” I agreed. “That means I need to find a place we can hole up.”
    She waved dismissively.
    “There’s nothing to find. We’ll go up to the old life-saving station. It’s big enough to hold us and the rest of them people. If I remember right, there’s a wood stove inside so we can warm it up some. It’s up near the point. Remember that thing that looked like a big house?”
    I nodded. After miles of uninhabited coast line, seeing what looked like a large Cape Cod with a covered front porch had left me staring.
    Something she said tingled at the back of my mind. It took a minute to put my finger on it.
    “I wonder how many people are still here. The kayakers were planning on leaving this morning too.”
    She snorted. “They’re fools if they did.  That’s bad water out there. You get wind blowing from different directions in a short period of time, water currents start switching back and forth and the whole mess gets to boiling like soup in a pot. There’s as many ships and boats sunk around here as anywhere in the world and most of them because of the weather.”
    She canted her head toward the bow.
    “That dune buggy thing of your dad’s really work?”
    “It really does,” I said. “It won’t go much more than seven or eight miles an hour but even that beats walking.”
    She took a last puff off her cigarette and snuffed it out in an empty soda can.
    “Then I say get the thing down. Run around, let the others know what’s coming, and then come pick up me and Daniel. We can use it to ferry enough supplies up to the station to eat for a couple of days. How heavy is that thing anyway?”
    “I don’t know for sure, maybe a 150 pounds or so.”
    Elsie blinked. “How you going to get it off then?”
    “The same way I put it there, “ I answered. “I’ll pick it up and set it off.”
    She brightened. “And it’s got a real bathroom!”
    I looked at her, confused.
    “I’m talking about the station. I t has a toilet and one of those big old iron bathtubs.”
    I laughed at her. “So where do we get the water to fill it ?”
    “The same place we always did,” she retorted. “There’s no fresh water on this island. Everyone had a rainwater cistern. I don’t know about the other ones here but I do know that one is still working.” The Park Service oversees this place and shares maintenance with a historical society up on the Cape. They come down once or twice a year and do a week of restoration.”
    She sipped at her coffee.  “One of the workers told me they fixed up the cistern to use for cleanup. I think he said it was three hundred gallons. I wouldn’t go around drinking the stuff, but take a bath and flush the toilet? You’re dang right I would.”
    A gust of wind shook the boat. The edges of the tarp