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.