62: Brice
Brice
Joy didn’t talk as she steered the small inflatable vessel toward the coast, and Brice was fine with that. Salty droplets sprayed him with every bounce, reminding him that he was free. Free of Storm’s boat, free from captivity. And, soon, free from people.
Already, the noise had fallen to a background buzz, something he could almost ignore. Only Joy’s thoughts stood out.
She was scared to talk. She didn’t know where she stood with him. She didn’t know if he was a hero or a freak.
Brice reckoned it was the latter.
She took them parallel to the cliff. White birds soared effortlessly in the sky, their cries fighting with the gentle sweep of the waves on the beach and the soft hum of the boat’s engine.
Joy pivoted the lever in her hand, aiming the boat for the sand. Bric
