Tomorrow's Sun (Lost Sanctuary) - By Becky Melby Page 0,35
water, streaked along the river’s edge. Adam slammed the car door and ran after her.
Emily started the car and made a U-turn, keeping one eye on the red shirt that bounded through the underbrush along the waterline.
At the first side road, Adam leaped over a guardrail and turned left. Emily caught a streak of orange burning ahead of him. The roly-poly cat ran like a cheetah. “Catch her!” Emily yelled. Useless noise with the windows closed.
A raindrop splattered the windshield. Thunder rumbled from the south. Flipping the signal lever, she waited for a semi to pass. A green airport sign hung below one that read BIENEMANN RD. Adam stopped running at a gravel drive that ran under what appeared to be an old railroad bridge. Rust-brown ribs spanned the river. Faded letters spelled out BIENEMANN FARM. A gate closed off the drive at the end of the bridge.
Rain pelted the windshield. Emily rolled down her window. “It’s private property, Adam. Get back in the car before you get soaked.”
Chin bouncing on his chest, lanky arms limp at his sides, he marched to the van and got in.
“She’ll find a place to hide and find her way home when the rain stops.”
Adam shook his head. “She’s too smart for that. Ben’ll kill her if she goes home.”
Kill was an overused word in junior high. But there was no questioning the tone in his voice. “You’re serious.”
“Yeah.” Adam ran his hand through damp hair and nodded. “Lexi told Jake that Ben said he was going to kill the cat. He threw her, really hard, on the concrete.” He swiped a cheek wet with more than rain.
“We’ll find her.” Emily gave in to the maternal nudge and rubbed his shoulder. The red shirt was steamy, coiled muscles taut beneath it.
“Look!” His window went down. Across the water, the cat ran between the trees. Lightning branched like bleached nerves above the bridge. “I know what—“Thunder crashed, swallowing his words. Adam grabbed the door handle.
“Stay—” The door closed on her plea. Emily opened hers and fished for her cane, stuck under Adam’s pack. Pulling it free, she kicked the door open. Rain lashed her face. Black clouds slammed together. Jagged, blue-white light stabbed the pewter sky. “Adam!”
“There’s a boat! Come on!” His left arm scooped the air, beckoning her.
“No! That’s crazy. You can’t—”
“Come on!” He held up an oar, shaking it in the air.
Emily tripped in the gravel, caught herself with her cane. Half-sliding down the bank, she reached the old wooden rowboat as Adam shoved it into the water. “Get out of that thing. Look at it. It’s ancient.” He held out his hand to her. “Adam. Please. Get out. This isn’t safe.”
“If I don’t find her, Ben will, and that’s not safe. I have to catch her for Lexi.”
Everything in her wanted to scream, It’s just a cat!
She took his hand.
CHAPTER 10
It took all of Adam’s strength to push away from the bank. He squeezed the oar with fingers purplish-gray from the cold. Had it ever rained this hard in the history of the world? His bottom jaw clattered against the top.
“It’s not like a canoe, Adam. You can’t steer with only one oar.”
What did she know about boats, anyway? Emily hadn’t stopped yelling since she got out of the van. But she’d gotten in the boat, and now he’d show her. Squinting into the sheeting downpour, he dipped the oar deep on the left. Port. He knew this stuff. He’d watched a movie on the Titanic just two weeks ago. Right was starboard, left was port. Two strokes into the wind, the boat swerved toward the bridge. He swung the oar across the bow, one stroke to correct. Back over the bow, two starboard strokes to fight the current, one port stroke to straighten their course. He glanced behind. Fifteen, maybe twenty yards stretched between them and the bank. Three more sets zigzagged them closer to the opposite shore. He studied the highway, a blurry line dotted with trees off to the right. It was getting closer. The current was winning.
“I’ll take a turn.”
What could she know about boats? Still, his arms burned. He swiveled on the splintery seat and handed her the oar. The boat jerked ahead a couple yards, but they were headed for the bridge. Adam smiled. She’d give up soon enough. Back and forth, they crept across, but they were losing the battle with the current.
He shifted position, moving away from a crack in the weathered seat. His