“Maybe someone associated with the mine? Or a group of the militia Manchester was warning us about?”
“Could be. But the way he described their territory, they were in the central part of the island, by the caves.”
She stared up the river and shook her head. “I don’t get it. Why would anyone want to run us off the road and shoot at us? Even if they were militia?”
“That’s a good question.”
“All we’ve done is talk to a couple of old men about some legendary ruins.”
“Don’t forget the giants.” Sam took a final look at where the men had disappeared beyond the bend and then stood. “Looks like it’s just you and me, kid.” He inspected his wet clothes. “The only good part about this weather is that we won’t freeze. In fact, once we’re out in the sun, we’ll be dry in a few minutes.”
“That’s great. But the main road’s at least, what, six or seven miles away?”
“Probably. Assuming it’s safe to walk to it. Didn’t someone say there were crocodiles along most of the rivers?”
“Not exactly positive thinking, Fargo.”
“Okay. I’m positive there are crocodiles along most of the rivers.”
Remi smiled in spite of herself. “That’s better. See how easy that was?” She struggled to her feet and felt her neck. Sam eyed her with concern.
“Did you hurt yourself?”
“Probably a touch of whiplash. But God bless whoever invented the air bag and seat belt.”
Sam glanced back up to where the car was wrecked. “I’m glad I took the extra insurance. Think it covers running off a cliff?”
“Probably an exception in the fine print.” She felt the side of her face, which was swelling.
“There are two ways to go—the road or the river. Which would you rather face—a thug with a gun or twenty feet of hungry croc?” Sam asked.
“What’s the middle choice?”
Sam offered a pained smile in response.
Remi eyed the rushing water. “If I were our attackers, I’d have hightailed it out of here once we disappeared. That looks like what they did.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Remi followed Sam’s gaze up the river. “Me too.”
“It’ll probably be shallower after the rapids. We can try crossing there and find the road,” suggested Sam.
“Lead the way. Mind the crocodiles.”
“Thanks. I’d almost forgotten.”
Sam carefully moved along the bank as they worked their way downstream. The roar of the rapids increased, and, as he’d hoped, after a deep pool with eddies swirling along the surface, the river widened and he could see the bottom. Crossing was still tricky. They held hands as they waded up to their waists, Sam feeling along the bottom with his feet as they gingerly made their way to the far shore.
Once on dry land again, they waited for their clothes to dry, and in fifteen minutes were on the dirt track that led back to the seashore road. Two hours later, a farmer heading into town with a half-loaded pickup gave them a ride. The man’s wizened face showed no surprise at finding two Americans hitchhiking on a road to nowhere who looked like they’d gone over the falls in a barrel.
Remi leaned her head against Sam’s arm as the truck bumped along.
“How’s the neck?” he asked o
ver the noise of the wind.
“I could seriously use a massage, but, other than that, I’ll live.”