CHAPTER 26
I’m not sure how long it takes to get to the opposite shore; the pulley is situated beneath the waterline, but not so deep that we can’t let go and find air if we had to. This is of little comfort, though; to surface means possibly being picked off by gunfire, or more likely, having them come after us, intercepting us on the opposite shore.
The motor stops abruptly, and my face hits the rope; the respirator pops out of my mouth. I look for the ground, touch only water, but when I surface, I can see the shore mere feet from us. I swim for it.
The shack that waits on the other side of the lake is no more than an ice-fishing shanty. I’m shivering, but I’m alive. And I’ve never felt more exhilarated.
Did we do it? Am I free? Does Jeff think I’m dead?
I hope so. I can only hope.
