Dekka was already straining against the rope and starting to spit the gag out of her mouth.
“If you wake Sam up, he’ll send Brianna after me.”
That quieted Dekka’s struggles.
“I know this sucks, and later you can punch me back,” Astrid said. “Give me twenty minutes before you get Sam. Tell him you were knocked out. You’ll have a nice bruise to show him. He’ll believe you.”
Astrid stood back. Dekka wasn’t struggling. “Tell Sam I said I need to do this. Tell him I won’t stop until I get it done.”
Dekka had managed to spit out the gag. She could yell now and all would be lost. Instead she said, “Cut into the woods; stay away from the bluff. For my money Drake’s in those caves and cracks in the bluff. Breeze cleared the woods pretty well.”
“Thanks.”
“Anything else you want me to tell Sam?”
Astrid knew what she was asking. “He knows I love him.” Then with a sigh she said, “Okay: tell him I love him with all my heart. But tell him also that this battle isn’t on him alone. I’m in this, too.”
“All right, blondie. Good luck. And hey: shoot first; think about it later, huh?”
Astrid nodded. “Yeah.”
She walked quickly away. A part of her was cruelly disappointed that she’d been able to get past Dekka. If she’d been stopped, she would have gotten some credit for making a brave effort. And she’d be back with Sam instead of walking, tense and fearful, toward the line of the woods.
Diana hadn’t thought she’d be able
to sleep out on a sailboat. It wasn’t like there were waves, but she still had powerful memories of the days of morning sickness. And she was not happy about anything that might upset the delicate peace she’d achieved with her stomach.
But she had fallen asleep on one of the narrow, cushioned bench seats in the stern of the sailboat.
On the boat were Roger and Justin and one of Justin’s friends, a little girl with the interesting name of Atria. They were asleep. Or at least they were quiet, which, from Diana’s point of view, was just as good.
Diana had watched Roger earlier with the two littles. She wondered if she would ever manage that kind of patience and playfulness. Roger had found some chalk somewhere and had kept the kids calm by drawing funny characters on the deck. Justin and Atria seemed to think it was all a sort of picnic.
The other occupant of the boat was Orc. He had decided his place was up on the front deck, the bow or whatever they called it. His weight lifted the stern so it was at an angle that threatened to spill her out of her seat. But she wrapped one arm around a chrome upright and the other arm uncomfortably around a cleat, tucked a blanket up close to her chin, and sure enough she fell asleep.
But it was one of those strange sleeps. Not complete unconsciousness, but a sort of drifting, smiling, pleasantly cloudy sleep that hovered right on the edge of consciousness.
She could hear voices, but she didn’t understand them or want to.
She could feel the lift and fall of the boat when Orc moved, or when another drifting boat jostled theirs.
It was in this state that Diana heard the voice. It was a voice at once new and familiar. It resonated up from her belly.
She knew it was a dream. At this point the baby—even if it was a little advanced for its age—didn’t have a functioning brain, let alone the power to formulate words and thoughts and sentences.
Baby was warm....
Baby was in the dark....
Baby was safe....
A dream, a pleasant fantasy invented by her subconscious. She smiled.
What are you? her dreaming mind asked.
Baby…
No, silly, I mean are you a boy or a girl?