company.”
I shoved to my feet and looked over the bow. A sleek black boat danced on the rippling water at the mouth of the lake, a quarter mile ahead of us. Its bow was facing our way and, standing at the front, holding a pair of binoculars in front of his eyes, was one of the guys we’d seen at Hebert Swamp City Airboats . His slicked back white hair glowed like silver under the sizzling Louisiana sun. “Crap,” I muttered.
Gertie straightened beside me, squinting toward the other boat. “Is that Number Two?”
I glanced at Ida Belle and she was shaking her head. “I swear I’m gonna drug you and drag you to the eye doctor myself.”
Gertie gave her friend a disgusted look. “I can see just fine. The sun’s just in my eyes.”
Four heads swiveled to the large, yellow ball hanging in the sky behind Gertie. Fortune grinned. “I think we’ve found the problem. Gertie’s eyes appear to be on the back of her head.”
I snorted out a laugh, earning myself a glare from my ballast partner.
A distant rumble had us jerking back to the problem at hand. The sleek black boat was moving forward, tearing toward us across the muddy expanse of water, spitting tan-colored water out behind it.
“Ida Belle!” Fortune warned.
Ida Belle threw the fantail of her scarf over her shoulder. “On it. You two better sit down.”
The airboat lurched forward, flinging Gertie and me to the bottom of the boat before we had time to bend our legs and sit. I grappled for something I could find to hold onto as my cheeks once again tried to grasp my hairline. The boat took to the air as Ida Belle headed straight for the other boat. It appeared we were engaged in another terrifying game of International chicken. I wrapped my arms around the base of Ida Belle’s seat and closed my eyes, wondering whether a prayer was in order. Something scrabbled against my leg and my eyes snapped open. I looked down to find Gertie trying to crawl her way over to me. Her white hair streamed straight back from her face and she looked like the victim of a facelift gone terribly wrong. Her eyes were slits in the air-flattened wings that had once been her cheeks.
I forced my fingers open and tried to reach for her. The wind smacked my hand back and into my own chin, snapping my head up. Claws dug into my calf and I yelped. I reached for Gertie’s hand, which was digging into my flesh in a desperate grip.
A large, black shape slashed past, dousing us in spray.
The boat zigged sideways and Gertie flew out of my range, sliding toward the edge with wide eyes. Reacting on instinct, I released the seat frame and lunged for her. I got two handfuls of flowered cotton but Gertie kept going. Her feet slapped against the muddy water as her arms threatened to come right out of her shirt.
The boat zagged the other way and Gertie flew toward me, landing in a pile of soggy cotton.
My ribs screamed in pain as she hit me, but I wrapped my arms around my ballast partner and held on, praying the boat race would end soon.
Something pinged off the bow of the boat, mere inches from Gertie and me. I barely registered the reality that somebody was firing at us before two more bullets whizzed past. Water geysered up around us as the bullets went wide and long.
“Hang on!” Ida Belle yelled. She shoved the throttle forward and the boat leapt into the air, slamming back down on the water a quarter mile away and surging forward at an even faster rate of speed than before. Grunting with the effort, I bent in the middle and jammed my feet through the seat frame, holding on as well as I could while still clutching Gertie.
We sailed down the Bayou for a few moments without being accosted and then, just as the air turned putrid, Ida Belle eased it down.
“Where’d they go?”
My ears roared from the assault of motor and wind, Fortune’s voice coming to me from the end of a long tunnel.
“Another boat. It might be Carter.”
Gertie started trying to extricate herself from
I shoved to my feet and looked over the bow. A sleek black boat danced on the rippling water at the mouth of the lake, a quarter mile ahead of us. Its bow was facing our way and, standing at the front, holding a pair of binoculars in front of his eyes, was one of the guys we’d seen at Hebert Swamp City Airboats . His slicked back white hair glowed like silver under the sizzling Louisiana sun. “Crap,” I muttered.
Gertie straightened beside me, squinting toward the other boat. “Is that Number Two?”
I glanced at Ida Belle and she was shaking her head. “I swear I’m gonna drug you and drag you to the eye doctor myself.”
Gertie gave her friend a disgusted look. “I can see just fine. The sun’s just in my eyes.”
Four heads swiveled to the large, yellow ball hanging in the sky behind Gertie. Fortune grinned. “I think we’ve found the problem. Gertie’s eyes appear to be on the back of her head.”
I snorted out a laugh, earning myself a glare from my ballast partner.
A distant rumble had us jerking back to the problem at hand. The sleek black boat was moving forward, tearing toward us across the muddy expanse of water, spitting tan-colored water out behind it.
“Ida Belle!” Fortune warned.
Ida Belle threw the fantail of her scarf over her shoulder. “On it. You two better sit down.”
The airboat lurched forward, flinging Gertie and me to the bottom of the boat before we had time to bend our legs and sit. I grappled for something I could find to hold onto as my cheeks once again tried to grasp my hairline. The boat took to the air as Ida Belle headed straight for the other boat. It appeared we were engaged in another terrifying game of International chicken. I wrapped my arms around the base of Ida Belle’s seat and closed my eyes, wondering whether a prayer was in order. Something scrabbled against my leg and my eyes snapped open. I looked down to find Gertie trying to crawl her way over to me. Her white hair streamed straight back from her face and she looked like the victim of a facelift gone terribly wrong. Her eyes were slits in the air-flattened wings that had once been her cheeks.
I forced my fingers open and tried to reach for her. The wind smacked my hand back and into my own chin, snapping my head up. Claws dug into my calf and I yelped. I reached for Gertie’s hand, which was digging into my flesh in a desperate grip.
A large, black shape slashed past, dousing us in spray.
The boat zigged sideways and Gertie flew out of my range, sliding toward the edge with wide eyes. Reacting on instinct, I released the seat frame and lunged for her. I got two handfuls of flowered cotton but Gertie kept going. Her feet slapped against the muddy water as her arms threatened to come right out of her shirt.
The boat zagged the other way and Gertie flew toward me, landing in a pile of soggy cotton.
My ribs screamed in pain as she hit me, but I wrapped my arms around my ballast partner and held on, praying the boat race would end soon.
Something pinged off the bow of the boat, mere inches from Gertie and me. I barely registered the reality that somebody was firing at us before two more bullets whizzed past. Water geysered up around us as the bullets went wide and long.
“Hang on!” Ida Belle yelled. She shoved the throttle forward and the boat leapt into the air, slamming back down on the water a quarter mile away and surging forward at an even faster rate of speed than before. Grunting with the effort, I bent in the middle and jammed my feet through the seat frame, holding on as well as I could while still clutching Gertie.
We sailed down the Bayou for a few moments without being accosted and then, just as the air turned putrid, Ida Belle eased it down.
“Where’d they go?”
My ears roared from the assault of motor and wind, Fortune’s voice coming to me from the end of a long tunnel.
“Another boat. It might be Carter.”
Gertie started trying to extricate herself from
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