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“The iguanas?” I asked, feeling a little horrified.

I actually kind of liked the iguanas. I knew they were invasive and mean. But if I had to choose between an iguana and a crocodile, I’d choose the former any day.

“Yes. Those,” she said, pulling me forward with her.

Was it just me, or was she being kind of… pleasant?

I mean, she wasn’t exactly a warm woman, but she didn’t seem like she intended to hurt or kill me.

She’d tried to ease my fears about Carl the crocodile.

Maybe she was just that cold-blooded. She could appear kind, then in a blink, slit your throat.

“I, ah, I get sick on boats,” I said as she continued to pull me forward, seemingly toward the airboat.

“It’s short ride,” she said, shrugging. “You can vomit in the water.”

There it was.

On the the.

It almost had a “d” sound instead of a “th.”

That was… Russian, right?

It was very slight, but it was there. That, paired with some words being missing, yeah, I was pretty sure I was in the right general location.

She certainly looked like some of the Russian models I had seen.

“In,” she demanded when we got to the side of the boat.

I could try to fight.

But if we were fighting, we weren’t keeping an eye on Carl. And if one or both of us ended up bloody, would that invite him closer? I didn’t know if crocodiles were drawn to blood like sharks were. It seemed likely.

Did I want to risk that?

If I had to choose, I think I would pick being killed by a human than a crocodile.

“In,” the woman demanded again, giving me a slight shake, almost like she was trying to knock some sense into me, not be overly cruel.

Whatever her motives, though, I climbed up into the airboat, and she followed, starting the engine, grabbing the rudder bar, and pressing her foot into the accelerator.

My stomach lurched as I frantically tried to brace myself since, apparently, the creators of airboats didn’t believe in seatbelts.

Logically, I figured that was in case of them flipping over. You didn’t want to be trapped in a seatbelt under water.

But no amount of logic could quell my anxieties as the boat eased off the land and landed in the water, a movement that made the contents of my stomach jostle and start moving upward.

“Be sick out the boat,” the woman shouted over the engine, reaching past me to point toward the water.

No.

I needed not to throw up.

Anytime I got sick, I got super spacey and cold and tired.

I needed to try to keep alert and sharp.

I’d paid attention to how she’d turned the airboat on. Which, in an escape, would be my best bet by far. It would leave her with the rowboat, which would not move as fast.

I hadn’t seen her key fob for her car, so I wondered if she’d left it in the car. I mean, there was no risk of anyone stealing it. There was nothing around.

So if I could just get her incapacitated, jump in the boat, and then steal her car… I could save myself. Then drive my ass right to Donovan and his brothers and let them handle it from there.

“Off,” the woman said when we got to the dock.

Without any other choice, I wobbled and fell twice, but I eventually got onto the dock.

She tied the boat to the dock and then followed me up.

“Go,” she demanded, waving toward the steps.

At first blush, you might think that she was being nasty because I was her hostage or whatever. But I was pretty sure she was just a chilly, no-nonsense sort of person.

Besides, I was glad to get to go ahead of her. It allowed me to really look around without her noticing how my eyes were wandering, looking at everything like a potential weapon.

Were any of the railing boards loose? Were there any discarded tools lying around? Some spare rope, maybe?

I was no Boy Scout, but I was reasonably sure I could tie a decent knot if need be. Sure, it would be more difficult with bound hands, but not impossible.

Did she have the key on her?

Or maybe I could see a bobby pin or something in the cabin once we got inside.

Did I know how to unlock cuffs with a bobby pin? No. Would I have time to learn during an escape? Probably not.

Unless she was dead.

Back in the trunk, I was pretty gung-ho about my ability to kill her if I absolutely had no other choice.

Now, after really seeing her, after hearing her voice, after learning that she named the local crocodile Carl, yeah, now I wasn’t as sure.

I mean, unless she became really awful and violent once we got inside.

So, no. I probably wouldn’t be ending her life. But I could be, you know, bashing her on the head or something so I could escape.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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