Boondocks

Chapter 3: A Different Life

WILLOW

People slept however they could, piled together like dogs in a solitary kennel. Eve had fallen asleep on Merle's chest, while Eric lay squished between them and Julia. The only one awake besides me and Croc was Tex, who insisted we not stop until we arrived. I yawned, longing to close my eyes, but I wasn't as prepared to risk waking up in the arms of a stranger. Odds were, I'd end up close to at least one, if not more of the massive men onboard. There was zero space to stretch out without snuggling up to a bear. I rested my arms over the rail and watched moonlight bounce off the waves. Cool air whipped over my face, keeping me from dozing off.

I rested my cheek on my arm and looked at Croc. He'd been fiddling with the keys he'd found for hours, totally lost in thought and a million miles away. I'd known leaving would be hard, but I hadn't expected him to react this strongly. After all, he'd learned so much in such a short amount of time. He'd adapted so easily. But I supposed a person could only take so much.

His thumb rubbed at the keychain, a steady back and forth, removing the thick grime imbedded into the wood. It didn't seem to be doing much good.

"Maybe they'll have something we can soak it in," I whispered.

Croc looked up as if only just realizing my presence. "Like what?"

I shrugged. "I'm not sure. Vinegar or something. You should give it to Julia when we get there. I bet she'd get it looking like new."

He nodded and looked back at the keychain. "There's letters carved into the back, but I can't make out what they spell."

I looked, but I couldn't see anything.

Croc sighed and shoved the keys into his pocket. "It feels so different out here," he murmured, staring out at the endless view.

I followed his gaze. It was different. Hollow. Lifeless. Dangerous. We were like rats emerged from our hiding place, waiting for the hawk to swoop down and snatch us. "It is different," I said. I couldn't lie, no matter how much I wanted to. He had to know the horrible reality, so he could keep himself safe. This wasn't a hungry gator, or a bad storm, or even a small army. "We aren't safe."

He took my hand. "You're safe with me."

I laced our fingers and leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder. No, I wasn't, and neither was he.

***

I drifted to sleep, lulled by the rhythm of the boat, and the steady caress of Croc's fingers over my scalp. When I opened my eyes again, the sun was rising. I sat up.

"Good morning," Croc said.

"Did you sleep at all?"

"I'll sleep when we get settled. Tex says we're almost there."

I took in our surroundings. The cypress trees had morphed, becoming towering pines. Their needles and cones littered the ground and floated in the water by the banks. "Where are we?"

"Tennessee river." Julia stepped into place beside me and extended a bottle of water. "Merle said the camp is right around that bend. Thank God. If I spend one more minute on this cramped boat, my joints are gonna rust."

I grinned, took a deep drink, then passed the bottle to Croc.

I wasn't sure what I expected to find when we set out on our journey. I'd imagined a cluster of tents wedged between thick trees. But when a boat ramp came into view, I realized I'd been wrong. When Merle said Tex had a camp, he meant it literally. It was the type of place families would go for a weekend trip. A gravel road led up a hill and looped around in a circle. Rusted grills marked each campsite, and a large sign full of arrows offered directions. Bathrooms and vending machines to the left. Swimming to the right.