Boondocks

Chapter 52: Fever

WILLOW

As the anchor was lifted, and the sails were dropped, and the ship slowly moved forward, my mind played the cruelest tricks on me.

"Wait!" It floated on the breeze, the faintest sound, but my head jerked all the same. I hung over the rail, searching the trees, desperate for a glimpse of life, but there was no one. Nothing. Anton and the others focused on their tasks. Ella and Justine quietly wept. The children were silent as statues. No one else had heard it. It was all inside my head.

The shore got smaller, and my heart lay in pieces somewhere far beyond it. It couldn't be real. He couldn't really be gone. I'd only just found him. He was everything I hadn't thought existed; the only man I could ever want.

"Stop!" Another echo on the wind.

I covered my ears and screwed my eyes shut. It isn't real. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to jump over the side of the ship, sink to the bottom of the river, and never come up again. I wanted the water to hold me forever because he would never hold me again.

Then a gunshot severed the atmosphere, and my eyes flew open wide.

I froze.

Tex stood half-bent in the shallows, gripping his leg with one hand, a smoking gun held loosely in the other. His body heaved as if he'd ran a mile. Men crowded the bank behind him, frantically waving their arms above their heads. Whistles and shouts grew louder as they multiplied. Ghostly pale bodies dressed in rags slowly spilled from the trees.

"They made it," I breathed, staring in disbelief.

Victor and Anton shouted back and forth in Russian as they worked hard to turn us around.

A sob broke from my lungs as I caught sight of Merle. He'd done it again. He'd fucked the government and survived. Was this a dream? I pinched my arm, and the most beautiful pain told me it wasn't.

I scanned the growing masses, searching for Croc, but I couldn't find him anywhere within the horde. My hands gripped the rail tighter, tension growing with each second that passed. There were too many people. The ship was moving too slow. I wanted to be on shore. So much so, I didn't even realize what I was doing before I hit the water. I dove, and I swam, pushing my muscles to their limit, feeling like I had in my dream. Rushing, rushing, making no progress. There was a ticking in my brain, like a bomb only Croc could diffuse. If I didn't find him before it went off, I never would.

I clawed my way onshore, my clothes heavy and sticking to my skin. Fall air pierced me to my bones, chilling my blood. My teeth chattered, but I didn't slow. I wrapped my arms around my middle, shouldering my way through the thickening crowd. He had to be here. He had to. "Croc!" My voice was shrill. "Croc!" My roar was inhuman. Before I knew it, I wasn't just shouldering people, but shoving them. My heart pounded in my throat, and I couldn't breathe. My wide eyes burned, but I couldn't blink, not until I found him.

Someone grabbed my arm and pulled me left. It was Merle. "C'mon," he said.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound emerged. All I had were questions, and the answers were too terrifying to seek. Too final. So, I followed, saying nothing, only hoping, blindly trusting that Merle would come through. He always came through.

He led me through the crowd, toward the trees.

Then I saw him.

I broke free and sprinted forward, sliding across the dead leaves like a baseball player headed for home. Croc lay incredibly still on a makeshift gurney made out of sticks and scraps of ripped cloth. "Is he—"