Page 91 of His Keepsake

Stumbling, still reeling at the loss of Charity, I ascended the metal stairs, helped by this man.

The noise of a helicopter rotor spinning slower and slower reached me. I was helped down, carried mostly, onto a smaller boat. We sped a short distance across the water where another boat had been waiting. Once aboard this new vessel, I was forced to sit on the deck

“Keep her there,” Axl said. “You have a decision to make soon, girl.”

“My friend,” I finally dredged up the courage to ask. “Charity? Is she okay?”

“You will wait until asked to talk.”

I bit my lip. What else could I do? Shivering, as a sea breeze swept across me, salt-laden and cold, I crouched in a shattered heap, and I waited. Life could not get much worse than this. I despaired of any good outcome. Even if I had been rescued, there was also Charity.

Her future and her recent torture, and that I might soon find out the details of what had happened to her? This terrified me.

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