The Ferry by Amy Cross Read Free Book Online Page B

you don’t need to be there.”
    I open my mouth to argue with him, but I’m starting to feel far too exhausted. In my mind’s eye, I keep thinking about all those people drowning. I’ve just been replaying that image over and over again, and I can’t stop.
    “Sophie? You’re coming home, aren’t you?”
    “We have to locate the wreck,” I tell him, struggling to find the right words. “There’s still a slight chance that some of them could be alive in there, maybe trapped in an air pocket or…” My voice trails off, and I know deep down that the chance is basically zero. They’re gone, in which case Rob’s right. I should leave. Back to London, back to school, back to my ‘new’ life.
    “It wasn’t your fault,” Rob continues. “You know that, right?”
    Spotting movement nearby, I look to my left and see her.
    I freeze.
    “Sophie?” Rob continues. “You have to know it’s not your fault. You did your best, but you don’t belong there now.”
    Standing a little way back, with rain falling all around her, the little Sullivan girl from five years ago is watching me. There are still worms burrowing through her skin, and parts of her chest have rotted away to reveal the ribs beneath. I’ve never told anyone that I still see her, that she comes to me sometimes. In her eyes, there’s a hint of pure, cold hatred.
    She knows I should have saved her.
    Hearing raised voices nearby, I look toward one of the other trailers. Mark and David Stratton have been arguing in there ever since we got back. Stratton’s in charge of things around here these days, and it’s clear that he didn’t take kindly to the way Mark and I set out in the helicopter. At the same time, he can’t have seriously expected us to just sit around and wait. At least we tried, although I can’t shake the feeling that there must have been something else we could have done.
    “Sophie?” Rob says after a moment. “Are you still there?”
    Looking back toward the little girl, I see to my relief that she’s gone.
    “Yeah,” I reply, “of course, I just… I need to stick around at least for the rest of the day. Mark -” I stop myself just in time. Rob probably wouldn’t appreciate it if I told him that Mark still needs me, and I certainly can’t tell him about our history with the ferry. He’d never understand.
    “You’re pushing yourself too hard,” Rob mutters, clearly keen not to discuss Mark at all. “What about the school? You can’t just not show up for work this morning. People here are relying on you.”
    “I’ll call them.”
    “And say what? That you had to run off and do your old job for a night, and that you almost got killed?”
    “I didn’t almost get killed.”
    “So that wasn’t you I saw on the news, hanging from a helicopter as it headed back to shore?”
    “That’s not almost getting killed,” I reply wearily. “That’s doing my job.”
    “It’s not your job anymore!”
    I sigh.
    “And there’s no pain in your voice?” he asks. “You’re not hurt and trying to hide it?”
    “Hanging from a helicopter is perfectly safe,” I tell him, ignoring the pain in my heavily-bruised chest. “You don’t understand how things are around here or -” Hearing a door slam, I look up just in time to see Mark storming out of one of the other trailers. A moment later, another man emerges; he’s older than Mark, with closely-cropped hair and jowly features, and when he spots me it’s clear that he knows who I am, and that he doesn’t approve. After a moment, he looks down at his clipboard and makes a note.
    “I want you to come home,” Rob says after a moment. “You quit the coastguard for a reason, remember? That reason is still relevant. You’re not well enough to be out there!”
    “I’m -”
    Before I can finish, I spot movement off to the right, and when I look over I realize that a couple of the rescue-workers are frantically waving at one another. Hearing raised voices, I get to my feet