“That doesn’t matter,” she told him, “all that matters is that you take the wheel and change course.”

“No!” He said it aloud, this time.

The other man looked at him. “No, what?”

“No … uh … it wasn’t a bug,” he said. “At least not the kind you’re talking about.”

The other guy didn’t know what to make of it, so he just turned his attention forward.

“Never mind who I am,” Allie thought. “You have to take the wheel! You have to change course!”

But he wouldn’t. That’s when Allie made a calculated move. This was a battle of wills, and although she was a stranger in his skin, her sense of touch didn’t seem as numb as it had before. Maybe … just maybe …

Allie thrust a hand forward and found that the hand moved. It wasn’t her hand but the old pilots. His fingers quivered as two spirits struggled to control it, but in the end Allie won. She wasn’t just mind-surfing now, she was body-surfing, and could use this man’s body as if it were her own. She grasped the shoulder of the younger pilot and spoke, but when her voice came out it was the dry, raspy voice of a man who had smoked two packs of cigarettes a day his whole life.

“You can go below,” Allie heard herself say in the old man’s voice. “I’ll finish off this run.” The younger ferryman offered no argument. He nodded and left, happy for some break time.

Inside her thoughts, the old pilot clawed for control of his limbs again.

“Patience!” Allie told him. “Patience, it will be over soon.”

But that only made him more terrified.

Gripping on to the wheel Allie pulled to the right. Now she could not see where the McGill’s ship was, but she remembered the spot where it had been. The boat began a turn that took it off its well-run course.

All at once it occurred to Allie, I am alive again! I am flesh, blood and bone. Is that what the kid had meant when he said there were other ways to be alive again? She knew she had discovered something major here, but she couldn’t deal with that right now.

She held the new course for a full minute. By the time that minute had passed, the body she wore was shaking with the force of the man’s spirit trying to reclaim himself, and finally she let him, because she had done what she had set out to do.

The moment she stepped out of his body, the man yelped, then quickly gained control of himself. He blotted his sweating forehead, and rather than letting the shock of what had happened fill him, he instead turned his attention to the wheel, quickly pulling it back on course toward Staten Island. She did, however, hear him praying beneath his breath, whispering a series of Hail Marys. She wanted to tell him that it was okay—that this was a one-shot deal that would never happen to him again, but with the McGill’s ship so close, she didn’t have time.