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"Land," he breathed.
Now they had to be more cautious.
If they tried to go too fast, they might spike the boat on a pylon or
submerged antenna.
But now they knew that their suspicion was correct, everyone was happier.
Carrie spotted the first true sight of land, about two miles to the north, a
low gray shape emerging from the misty cloud of a rain squall.
"There," she breathed, pointing to what Jim reckoned to be close to true
north, maybe even a little west.
It proved that they were in a monstrous new bay created by the earthquakes.
Even in the murky daylight, they couldn't see any sign of land away to their
east, though there was a vague smudge on the horizon that could have been
higher ground. Jim was appalled at the extent of the devastation.
"Must be a hundred miles wide and about the same from north to south," he
said.
"Are we going over there?" asked Heather. "Up ahead?"
Her father nodded. "If my back doesn't break first with all this rowing."
Sly stopped at Jim's word, squeaking with alarm, nearly letting one of the
oars drop into the ocean. "Don't want t'break my back, Jim."
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"Just a way of talking, Sly," said Jim, leaning over to pat the boy
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reassuringly on the shoulder.
"Listen, we couldn't have done this trip without your help and strength, Sly.
You've done real good. Real, real good."
"You tell Dad that, Jim?"
"How can he?" said Heather, quickly. "You know that& "
"That your father's gone on ahead to a different place, Sly," said Carrie
loudly to override what the girl started to say. "But he can see what you do
and he's going to be terribly proud of you."
Sly beamed at her and clapped his hands together. "Then double good for me,"
he crowed.
Heather glanced at Carrie and Jim. "Sorry," she muttered. "Didn't think."
"Don't worry," said Carrie. "We're all bone weary, kid. Get to land and catch
up on some sleep. That's what I'm most looking forward to."
"Stop rowing," said Jim, sitting in the stern, fingers cramped around the
tiller of the little vessel. Oddly it seemed to be chillier now than when they
had first started their voyage, with sleet among the rain.
Sly and Carrie both followed his orders, carefully bringing the oars in and
laying them along the bottom of the boat. Heather was poised in the bow,
holding the coil of rope, ready to jump out onto the spit of land.
They'd come through a bank of drizzle, and everyone was cold and tired and
wet. But at least they were going to he back on solid, if not dry, land.
Jim's wristwatch, when he wiped it clean, showed it was close to noon.
He glanced behind him, to the open ocean, and farther south, to distant
Eureka. The sky was dull, clouds pressing down onto the surface of the sea as
if air and water were somehow merging into each other.
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For a fraction of a stolen moment the clouds shifted, and he thought he
glimpsed a ship, far, far off, with dark-colored sails. Blue or green. Then
the wind veered and the curtain closed and the vessel vanished.
"Painted ship on a painted ocean," he muttered, dredging the phrase from his
high-school memory.
Jim's attention came back to the land. He wrinkled his forehead at the
realization that he'd been careless. He'd been surviving in the ravaged world
for long enough to know that if you wanted to stay alive you checked and then
you checked again. After that you checked once more.
But there was no sign of life.
Dreary hillsides, bare of any vegetation, showed only the stumps of dead
trees. It looked as though there had recently been a high tide, with mud and
drifted detritus spread all along the waterline.
Jim spotted what looked like blacktop, approximately fifty feet above them,
running north to south. Likely the highway that they'd have taken if they
hadn't been forced into the detour of Eureka. There was also a burned out
building along to the left, with smoke-
blackened walls and eyeless windows.
It was just possible a mile or so north to see some higher ground, dusted with
fine snow.
Heather was standing up as the boat drifted in, almost silently, its keel
grating in the dirt.
She turned around and grinned at her father.
"Like Columbus or the pilgrim fathers. Shall I claim this new and unknown land
in the name of the Hilton family? Or in the name of Aurora?"
Jim and Carrie laughed, Sly following their example a few beats later.
The shot came from somewhere inland, close to the road, the explosion echoing
flatly out to sea. Jim spotted a puff of smoke, blown instantly away.
But that wasn't what mattered.
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Heather screamed once, her arms thrown wide, the rope dropping. Her feet
slipped, and she fell over the side of the boat into the shallow water with a
resounding splash.
Jim Hilton's mind blanked out on him at the realization of blind disaster.
Chapter Sixteen
Pamela McGill was standing on the main deck of the
Eureka Belle
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