D. MacHale - SYLO

“It’s not rocket science,” Tori snapped. “We head due west and pray they don’t see us.”

“But we can increase the odds of getting there and getting the word out,” he said.

“How?” I asked.

“By taking two boats,” Quinn announced with conviction. “Tucker and I spent the whole summer pulling traps for the Willards. I can handle either of those boats. You and Tori take one, I’ll take the other.”

“You want to go alone?” I asked, incredulous.

“Not really, but with two boats there’s a better chance of one getting through.”

“That’s a bad idea,” I said dismissively. “We shouldn’t risk both of the Sleepers’ boats.”

Tori laughed. “Are you serious? My father’s been arrested, killers are hunting for the three of us, and you’re worried about risking a couple of boats?”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

Tori flipped open a bench on the porch, pulled out two ICOM walkie-talkies, and tossed one to Quinn.

“They’re charged and good for about twenty hours. Range is good. Maybe twenty nautical miles. Stay on channel twenty-one.”

Quinn examined the device and powered it up. He didn’t need any instructions.

“I don’t like this,” I said nervously. “We should stay together.”

“No, he’s right,” Tori said sharply. “This is as much about getting the word out as about escaping. With two boats we’ve got double the chance.”

“Then I’ll take the solo boat,” I said.

It was Quinn’s turn to laugh. “No offense, Tuck, but with your navigation skills you’d be lucky to end up in Greenland.” He looked at Tori and added, “The one time he took the helm of the Willards’ boat, we ended up stuck on a sand bar for six hours waiting for high tide.”

“Well, you’re not exactly Magellan either,” I snapped at Quinn. “We’re talking about navigating five miles of ocean in the dark with the Navy hunting for us. Are you seriously up for that?”

Quinn chuckled nervously. “Jeez, don’t sugarcoat it. Of course I’m not up for it, but what choice do we have? I can get there.”

“Then I’ll go with you,” I said.

“No,” Quinn snapped quickly. “Stay with Tori because, well, because—”

“Because I’m a girl,” Tori said sarcastically. “It doesn’t matter to me. Go with your friend.”

I looked at the two of them, horrified that we had come to this point. I had to make a decision…go with Quinn or with Tori. I’m not sure why I made the choice I did because Tori had way more experience on the water than both of us put together. But it didn’t seem right to let a girl go by herself, which meant she was absolutely correct about my thinking.

“I’ll go with Tori,” I said softly.

“Whatever,” she said and strode off the porch. “I’m tired of waiting. Let’s go.”

She walked quickly across the scrubby grass that was her backyard, headed for the docks.

“Jeez, Quinn,” I said. “Aren’t you scared?”

“Terrified,” he responded with a nervous chuckle. “But I’m more scared about what’s happening right here. At least out there we’ve got a chance.”

“Has it come to that? Do you really think Pemberwick is…what? Doomed?”

Quinn looked out at the lagoon and watched Tori step onto the dock and board the forward boat.

“Doomed? I don’t know. But we’re in serious trouble,” he said with no trace of his usual sarcasm. “Whatever it is that’s happening here, I think it’s wrong that we haven’t been told the truth. If it’s as bad as we think it is, or even if it isn’t, we have the right to know. Getting out of here and reaching people on the mainland will force the truth to come out.”

“Yeah,” I said soberly. “If we make it.”

Quinn gave me a playful shove and said, “We’ll make it. We’ll have lobster rolls at Newick’s and hold a press conference. I like the idea of being a hero.”

I chuckled, but my heart wasn’t in it.

“So you’re going to get your wish,” I said.

“What wish?”

“You’re going to leave the island and do something people will remember you for. I never doubted you would. I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”

“What can I say? Destiny calls. I’ve already got the name picked out for the story I’m going to write about this adventure.”

“Really? What is it?”

Quinn gave me a beaming smile and said, “The Pemberwick Run.”

I had to smile too. “I like it.”

“I’m telling you, we’re going down in history, man. And it won’t be the only time,” Quinn said, with more than a touch of cockiness.

“I don’t doubt that either,” I said.

“Look, Tuck, I like it here too,” he said, turning serious. “I might complain and say I want to kick the sand out of my shoes and live in the real world, but Pemberwick is my home. I like the place. I want it to be home again.”

“Me too,” I said.

“Then let’s make it happen.”

He reached down and picked up the soldier’s pistol. It was an automatic, like a Walther or a Glock.

“You know how to use that?” I asked.

Quinn shrugged. “Let’s hope I won’t get the chance to find out.”

We hurried down the porch steps and followed Tori’s route to the dock.

The boat with the red wheelhouse, the Tori Tickle , was tied up in front of the older boat with the navy blue wheelhouse, the Patricia . Tori was on board the Tori Tickle , preparing to get under way.

“Help me with these,” she commanded and started tossing over the lobster traps that were stacked to the stern. “We don’t need them to be slowing us down.”

Quinn and I caught the traps and stacked them on the dock. We had plenty of experience with lobster traps.

“Yeah,” Quinn said, scoffing. “The extra weight might keep these fine vessels from outrunning one of the Navy’s high-powered gunships.”

I didn’t laugh at the joke.

Neither did Tori. She stood with her hands on her hips, staring at Quinn.

“Sorry,” he said. “Just trying to keep it light.”

“Can you start those engines?” she asked.

“I think so,” Quinn replied.

“Then do it.”

Quinn gave me a quick look, rolled his eyes, and headed for the Patricia while I helped Tori offload the rest of the traps.

“I get Tori Tickle ,” I said. “Who’s Patricia ?”

Tori took a few seconds before she answered.

“My mother,” she finally said with no emotion.

“Oh.”

They say that it’s bad luck to change the name of a boat, but I couldn’t imagine keeping that particular name, bad luck or not. It would be a constant reminder of the person who had abandoned her family.

“It’s because my father still loves her,” Tori said. “In case you were wondering.”

“How do you feel?” I asked.

“I don’t,” was her quick answer.

It was not a good subject to get into on the verge of making a suicidal escape, so I dropped it. When we finished unloading the traps, Tori stood up and scanned the lagoon. Dusk had settled in. The sun was finally giving up the day.

“We gotta get going,” she said. “It should be dark enough by the time we clear the lagoon.”

Quinn fired up the engines of the Patricia and they caught with a throaty roar. Each of the boats had powerful twin diesels. They were built to be working boats, not speed burners. In spite of Quinn’s bad joke, we wouldn’t be outrunning any other ships, Navy or otherwise.

Tori jumped out of the Tori Tickle and walked back to the Patricia .

Quinn was at the wheel, tuning the engines. I was impressed. He actually looked as though he knew what he was doing. I could have handled the boat on my own just fine, but Quinn was right: I would have handled us right into getting lost.