T H I R T Y T W O
I look around frantically, trying to figure some way out of here. I scan for vehicles, but don’t see any. Then I turn around completely, and find myself scanning the water, the shoreline. And that’s when I see it: right behind the Governor’s mansion, tied up to a solitary pier is a small, luxury powerboat. I’m sure it is reserved for the privileged few who use this island as their playground.
“There!” I say, pointing.
Logan sees it, too, and we sprint for the shoreline.
We run right up to the beautiful, shining motorboat, big enough to hold six people. It bobs wildly in the rough water and looks powerful, like a thing of luxury. I have a feeling that this boat was used by that fat, n***d man. All the more vindication.
It is bobbing so wildly, I don’t want to risk B
