Chapters (78)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Acknowledgments
- Discover More
- About the Author
- Also by Owen Laukkanen
He guided her with his hands, like she was backing a truck or maybe parking an airplane. Lined her up at the entrance and gave her the thumbs-up, all good, and then he joined Lucy in staring down at the ocean. The water was shallower now, clearer, the rocks looming like ghosts from the murky depths.
Jess kept the boat on a steady path. They crossed the threshold, the twin rocky shoals on either side, and the low cliffs closed in around them, the trees high above. But Mason hardly noticed the trees. He saw how this passage would work only at high tide; anything lower, and the narrow gap would be littered with rocks, like rapids. He wondered how low the boat sat in the water, how high a rock would have to be before it put a hole in the hull.
He guided her around a big one, stout and mean, off to port—Jess edging the boat clear until the starboard rail nearly touched the cliff over there. Got her back into the middle of the pass quickly; there were more obstacles up ahead. And after they’d gone about fifty feet, the pass doglegged to the right, and there was more plotting to be done.
The tide had slackened, which was a good thing. Soon it would kick up again, on the ebb this time, pushing against the troller and draining the water from under her keel.
Mason could see the lagoon up ahead now, another hundred feet or so—tantalizingly close—but he knew they had a minefield to run before they got there, and they really had only one chance to run it. He had to plan his moves in advance, look beyond the first rock to a path through the next. Reversing in this tight passage would be near impossible. Mason didn’t want to have to tell Jess she was going to have to try it.
Slowly Jess moved the boat forward. She followed Mason’s instructions quickly and without question; he could feel the engine rumble when he motioned her forward, and he could sense the rudder turn almost before he’d made the gesture. She was good with the boat, and he didn’t want to let her down.
The tide had fully turned when they were thirty feet from safe water. The water was flowing past the bow of the boat, slow at first but picking up speed, inexorable. Driftwood and detritus slipped past, the water whirlpooling around more submerged rocks. Mason watched and felt powerless. Wished he could do something to urge the boat faster, but he knew Jess was working as fast as she could, and better than he ever would.
Three minutes later it was over. Mason stood straight and gestured forward, felt the engine throttle up, and the Better Days motored into the lagoon Jess called Dixie.