CHAPTER 59


"My God, Charlotte. Are you okay?" Walter could hardly believe his eyes.

The right side of her small face was one purple bruise. Her gray hair stuck out from her ponytail. Her lower lip was split and her eyes were wild, a combination of shock and panic. She stared at Walter as if she didn't recognize him. She crawled out of the bag, dragging her right leg. The ankle was so swollen it reminded Walter of rising bread, puffing out of her sneaker.

"Charlotte," he whispered again.

His eyes darted to the open stairwell. Joe had gone silent on the radio. Walter wanted to believe Joe wouldn't leave the cockpit. Now he prayed he wouldn't leave the cockpit.

"Do you know where we are?" Walter asked her.

She kicked the bag away and grabbed on to a leather strap in the floor just as the boat pitched sideways.

Other than the bruises and the swollen ankle, Walter couldn't see any broken bones or bleeding.

"Can you hear me, Charlotte?" He kept his voice low and quiet. He knew what it could do to a person to be stuck in a hold. A bag probably had the same effect. He worried that she might be too far gone to be of any help. "Charlotte?"

"I've heard every word that bastard said from the time he dropped me on my head."

Walter wanted to laugh with relief. "Good ole Charlotte."

She crawled up beside him and started to work on his ropes but Walter stopped her.

He pointed above him with his chin. "I can wait. Do you know how to use a two-way radio?"


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