Praying for Grace (The Grace Series Book 5) by M. Lauryl Lewis Read Free Book Online Page B

The waves were growing larger and a strong breeze was beginning to blow. With the dark of night falling, the trip was unnerving.
    “Ivar, a little farther to your left,” said Gretchen.
    “Thanks,” he said as he stopped rowing with one oar and focused instead on the other, making a course correction.
    “How do you know where you are?” I asked the man. “In the fog?”
    Ivar looked at Gus, instead of answering me.
    “Gretchen’s like us, Zoe,” said Gus. “She can feel the others in her head. Both the living and the dead. It’s how I knew how to get to you on the island.”
    “It’s only those of us who have the infection,” said Gretchen in her flawless feminine voice. “For some the abilities are stronger. I can feel the dead, but also other people who are infected. It’s how I help navigate.”
    “I’ll talk to her about it later tonight, Gretch,” said Gus quietly.
    We continued on in relative silence for several more minutes.
    “Gretchen, do I need to radio them or are they waiting?” asked Fred.
    “They’re there. Better keep the walkies quiet. I can sense that Abe feels the dead not too far off.”
    “Got it,” said Fred. 
    “Zoe, once we hit land it’ll be about a ten minute drive. We have to stay quiet till we’re in the car.”
    “Ok.”
    “Do you think you can keep the baby quiet?” asked Gretchen.
    I looked up at her and glared. “He’ll be fine.”
    Emmett had fallen asleep at the breast, so I gently wrapped him in the receiving blanket that had covered us during the brief rowboat ride and slung my backpack over my free shoulder.
    Gus leaned close enough that I could feel his breath against my neck. My stomach did a flip-flop of familiar longing. “Zo, we’re about to dock. No questions, and no attitude. It’s really important that you just follow me, ok?” he whispered.
    I looked into his eyes. What I saw in the depth of those eyes was sincerity and warning. As I nodded my understanding, the rowboat lurched as it bumped against the dock. Gus took me by my elbow, signaling me to stand. I did so, nestling Emmett into the crook of my arm. A black man, Abe I presumed, was standing on the rickety dock, already assisting the others out. Ivar and Fred had an obvious routine down and as Gus helped me up onto the dock, the two men were already pulling the small craft forward toward shore. Keeping hold of my arm, Gus led me quietly down the dock. Gretchen and the black man flanked us while the other two secured the boat on dry land. I noted that the two people now in a protective stance around us each held a machete, as did Gus.
    Emmett sneezed twice in my arms, causing Gus to tighten his grip upon my arm. We continued on and the baby fell back asleep. In the distance I heard the tell-tale moan of the dead. The heavy cover of fog distorted the sound, making it difficult to determine from which direction it had originated. Gus’ steps seemed to hold urgency. Just as suddenly as he had begun pulling me forward, he stopped.
    “Hurry, get her in,” came a hushed and unfamiliar voice.
    An older woman emerged from the fog and ushered us toward a black station wagon. She had long brown hair streaked with gray that was tied loosely back away from her angular face. As I reached the side of the car, she set a bony hand on my back and guided me to the open back passenger door. I slid in quickly and scooted over to the far side of the bench seat. Gus and Gretchen were quick behind me and the woman who had greeted us followed suit, slipping into the front passenger seat. Another woman sat behind the wheel, ready to drive. She was about the same age as the first woman with similar features. I wondered if they might be sisters.
    “We’re almost ready,” said our driver.
    The back hatch of the station wagon opened and Abe jumped in, followed quickly by Fred and Ivar. In short order the hatch was pulled closed. The three men were obviously cramped, as were the four of us in the back