“I’m fine,” I say, touching my wound as I remember the bullet that whizzed past my cheek and saved my life, the bullet that was shot by Ben.

I look over the children’s huddled figures at Ben, who is standing a few paces back from the rest of us.

“How did you…” I begin, a million questions entering my mind, not even knowing what to say next.

“We begged the Commander for another boat,” Ben said. “We had a feeling you might need us.”

I smile.

“Nice shot,” I say, knowing full well that it’s the first he’s made since that day at the outpost when his PTSD stopped him dead in his tracks.

Ben looks at me intently with his soulful blue eyes. “I don’t know how,” he says. “But when I saw that you were in danger I could just suddenly shoot again.” He sounds confused, like he doesn’t fully understand it himself.

“Well, I’m glad,” I say. “And I’m glad you came.”

“Me too,” he says quietly.

Just then, the other three come over. Everyone hugs, shakes hands, pats each other on the back. But my joy and relief are only short-lived as I remember Emmanuel and our boat.

“What do we do now?” I say.

We all look at Ben’s boat. It’s even smaller than the one the Commander gave us, and there’s no way we’ll fit comfortably in there. And they don’t have any supplies or weapons to speak of.

But we have no choice. The seven of us huddle into the boat, the two dogs squeezing in too. It might be cramped but the important thing is that we’re all together. Everyone I love is in this boat. Everyone but one person… Dad.

“I’m coming, Dad,” I whisper under my breath.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The boat, its engine off, now at full sail, sways and lurches in the water as Zeke consults the map.

“We’ve reached Lake Ontario,” he announces.

I look out, as do the others, shocked by the sight ahead. It looks more like an ocean. The waves are huge and rock our overcrowded boat violently. I cling on for dear life, praying that after surviving an attack from crazies we don’t meet our doom in the water. I would hate to drown like Logan.

The rain is still pounding and we’re all completely soaked and shivering. But we need to keep going, plowing onward, putting as much distance between us and the crazies as possible.

The entire way I kept my eyes peeled for the crazies, for our old boat, for Emmanuel, desperate to save him. But to my horror and guilt, they were nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, a sound dawns on me, one that had been nudging at my consciousness and growing louder with each minute.

“Uh-oh,” Zeke says. “Looks like danger ahead.”