Carrion (The Bren Watts Diaries #1)

Chapter 45

Margot cleared Alfie and the Katingers of bites; she used the guest cabin by the bow as her triage room. Steven Katinger's granddaughter, Tessa, in her early twenties, had hypothermia. They were in the water for so long that all the Katingers had it, but not as bad as Tessa. Margot had asked her to strip, and she even gave Tessa her spare clothes since they were of similar build. At least there was some good news that she was going to be okay.

Mostly everyone was on the main deck, sitting in their own little corners, keeping the silence in the boat hanging in the air. When they saw me emerged onto the pilothouse, something switched in the room. Suddenly, I caught their heads in attention, backs straightened, as if they were holding their breath, waiting for what I was going to say. I hadn't thought of getting this far, my mind still numb from sulking beneath the hull. They were waiting for orders.

No. They were waiting for comfort, and it seemed they had collectively chosen me to be their guide out of this mess. After all, I got them out of New York. Now, they were waiting for me how far I was going to take them.

I held my head high and tried to calm my nerves. I didn't want to show them that I was scared. "I am going to look around from the sky deck," I said.

That was enough, it seemed. I saw Yousef let out a sigh, nodding, a wash of relief crossed his face. Most of them did. Finally, someone was once again in control, and I could see them think, not knowing that I was a little frightened. They had forgotten I was just a kid, and if they did, chose to ignore it. I caught Luke staring at me with concern, but I shook my head and walked out of the saloon, heading to the skyjack. Logan was on the helm.

"We're almost there," Logan said. Splayed on a table by the settee was a map of lower New York, weighed down open by an empty mug and a bowl. "We'll be there in fifteen minutes. Maybe half."

"That's good," I said. "You see anything?"

"We passed another fallen bridge. Highway 202. Lots of dead. So far, that's the last bridge we'll pass until West Point."

"Vectors?"

Logan shook his head. "Army."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Did they see us?"

"No. I mean, the army bombed the people on the bridge. There were no soldiers up there when we passed, so we're safe. No worries."

I looked around us. We were the only boat in the river. Most of the boats that were idle around Cuomo bridge had gone down toward the ocean, braving whatever horrors they'd face from the destroyed city. I tried telling them to follow us upriver, but they wouldn't listen. They didn't believe me that the government might have nuked New York City, and radiation must be spilling by the thousands up in the air, and when they pressed me if I was sure they were nukes, then the entire discussion fell apart.

I tried reasoning with them that the same government that blew up Cuomo bridge was the same government that would have the guts to blow up an entire fucking city filled with people. I had no idea if the government released nuclear weapons (at that time), and I did not know that they were only MOABs, but the blast and the mushroom cloud that followed made me think it was.

But it was too late. I could see that fear had taken hold in everyone, and if there was one thing I knew about fear, people were very desperate at reining back their control.

"Those were a lot of vectors back there," I said, cutting the silence.

Logan looked up at me. "Yeah. They're only thirty miles away from the town we're heading. If they continue north, they'll be on top of us in a day or two."

"Which means we have to move fast."

"Agree. We're running out of bullets, by the way."

"Tell me something I don't know."