Chapter Nineteen – Hot-served Revenge
A wave splashes over my face. Alive. I’m still alive. I look up and instantly regret it. The sun blinds me for a moment. Shielding my eyes, I search for my makeshift raft. I had no strength left to pull it up in the morning, and now the tide attacks it.
I dip my wings into the sea. The water is tepid but wet to the touch and salty to taste; not just a dream. Or nightmare. An escape from their verdict. Chills fight through the heat and down my spine. The people won’t find me here. Nobody finds me. I'm alone.
I settle on a rock, scorched as everything else around. The sun’s burning without mercy. It's never been so hot back in Hoboken, and neither has in New York. This island, it can’t be so far… Or have I been wrong and now paying for it? I spread my wings and fan myself. Heh, at least some use for them. Other than rowing, that is.