After months of mulling it over, I’d determined there was only one possible way of doing it. I would have to take my own dark leap—scaling the rail and diving into the shallow waters surrounding the Jersey. And then, as the immediate shores were well patrolled, I’d have to swim out of the bay and come ashore someplace far downriver.

I didn’t know how I’d manage it. I couldn’t even walk without tiring anymore—how was I going to swim for an hour, keeping ahead of boats pursuing me? But I couldn’t wait. Winter would soon freeze Wallabout’s waters to ice, making a leap from the rail impossible, and I doubted I’d last long enough to see next year’s thaw.

If I didn’t make my attempt soon, I never would.

The morning after a hard night’s rain, I knew it was time. The waters in the bay were gurgling and rising with the storm runoff, which would make my dive safer. If I waited until high tide at dusk, it would be safer still. That decided it. I’d take my leap just before the guards ordered us belowdecks for the night.

“Haven’t heard much blathering from you today, Salty,” Hackett said.

I lifted my head from his shoulder, where I’d taken to resting it. We were huddled together in the curve of the bulwark, which was only partly keeping us out of the passing showers, but there’d been a small epidemic of intestinal upset below. Like dozens of others, we’d chosen rain over howling men squatting over buckets. “Why’s it sound like you mind?” I asked.

“It gets dull without your stories of derring-do and whatever else. You’re shaking. You shouldn’t be out in such weather.”

“ ’Cause I might come down with something?”

He gave me a look like he didn’t appreciate my back talk, which I knew meant he did. I leaned against him again, my head such a heavy thing to carry. “I used to hate you, you know.”

“Yep. I miss those days.”

I smiled. Me and Hackett were the same. A little rotten, but not all rotten. The fight for America’s independence had drawn us both in, giving us a way to be better than we really were. That was the best thing about noble ideas like freedom—anybody could get behind them.

I dozed off. When I stirred, I was on my side and Hackett was leaning over me, blocking the rain. “Move, you old wolf,” I said, pushing him away. “You’re crowding me.”

“How do you feel? Any better?”

“Shut up, will you? And back off before I catch your fleas.”

“You sound better.”

I didn’t feel it, but I didn’t say so. I’d slept the entire day. Night was falling and a new storm had come in. Raindrops exploded furiously against the planks. Only a couple dozen other prisoners were still out, most hovering near the marines who were rummaging through a delivery crate. As soon as they finished, I knew they’d call us below for the night.