Boondocks

Chapter 32: Babies

WILLOW

Eve and Eric fell asleep, and I sat with my legs dangling over the side of the boat. If I just kept staring in the direction Croc had gone, I could will him back to us. This was the last risk. After tonight, we would go, with or without a boat. As much as I wanted to fight back, I couldn't drag the kids into the middle of a blood bath. Enough was enough; I wouldn't put them through any more.

Madness had taken over the group. They were seriously going to attack Savannah. A chill raced over my skin. I kept hoping Tex would change his mind, or at the very least, someone else would be the voice of reason. But even Merle was set on going. He would be the hardest to leave behind, and I was holding onto hope that he would come with us. My logical brain knew he wouldn't. Merle would avenge her, or he would die trying. He would fuck the government and live free or die. That's who he was—who he'd always been.

Crickets chirped slowly, as water sloshed against the side of the boat. The river was too dark, too empty, and the longer the night deepened, the tighter my throat became. He would come back. He would. He had to.

Despite my thoughts, I kept imagining the worst. Croc captured, strapped to a chair, wrists bound, surrounded by clinical white. Him lying somewhere hurt, bleeding, with no one to help. Him gone forever. I swallowed convulsively, eyes wide and unblinking as I stared at the water. He would come back. Then we'd start our lives. We'd figure it out. We'd make it work.

Something fluttered in my gut.

I jolted and looked down at my stomach. The tiniest brush of hummingbird wings fluttered within my lower abdomen. I pressed my hand to the spot and took a slow breath. There was a person there. A baby. Our baby. Rising panic mixed with something else, something instinctual. Pregnancy was at the top of my really-dumb-fucking-ideas list, but it was happening. My mother, whoever she'd been, had thrown me to the wolves. I wouldn't do the same. This baby would be loved, and I would find whatever way I could to keep them safe.

"He'll come back," I whispered.

I needed him to come back.

* * *

CROC

Moonlight cut around the shadows, painting strips of blue across the deck of the ship. I crouched down and took in my surroundings. To my left, a wide staircase led up, but I needed to go lower. I stood and crept forward, keeping to the dark as I hurried to the other side and turned the corner. I had a clear view of the scene on shore. If someone decided to shine a light, they'd see me. I kept my body to the wall and passed door after door before I finally found what I was searching for. A set of steps led down into an inky abyss. It had been a long time since I'd found a dark I couldn't see in. Like Eve, my eyes had changed when I was small. But the absence of light below was so absolute, I couldn't make out a thing.

Old fears rose like bile, and I swallowed hard, forcing them back down. There was a child trapped in that darkness; I knew it. I could smell their fear—faint, but unmistakable. With a heavy breath, I descended, letting the ship swallow me. The deeper I went into its belly, the more I felt like the fish I caught for dinner. Stupid. Helpless. Swimming straight into a predator's grasp.

I reached a flat surface then held out my hands, feeling my way through empty air until my fingers brushed something. I yanked away then froze, waiting for a reaction. None came. Cautiously, I reached out again. A coarse material hung suspended by rope on either side. I released it and kept going, finding another. They formed a row, and I followed them. The scent grew stronger, letting me know I was headed in the right direction. I picked up my pace, but I could only go so fast.

The cloths ran out, and empty space took their place. My hands extended, and I waded forward, feeling as if I'd fallen into a void that would go on forever. When my palms finally met a wall, I released a breath I hadn't known I was holding. I followed it to a doorway, a hallway, then more emptiness. I paused. The floor changed, becoming more like Earth. I bent down and fingered the layer of dirt. The smell was strong now. They were close. So close I was afraid to move and risk running into them. Fear wasn't a pleasant aroma. It was sour, pungent, rotten. Here, it was so stagnant and thick I could taste it. I stood still, listening hard. The silence was too loud.