CHAPTER ELEVEN
The boat, its engine off, now at full sail, sways and lurches in the water as Zeke consults the map.
“We’ve reached Lake Ontario,” he announces.
I look out, as do the others, shocked by the sight ahead. It looks more like an ocean. The waves are huge and rock our overcrowded boat violently. I cling on for dear life, praying that after surviving an attack from crazies we don’t meet our doom in the water. I would hate to drown like Logan.
The rain is still pounding and we’re all completely soaked and shivering. But we need to keep going, plowing onward, putting as much distance between us and the crazies as possible.
The entire way I kept my eyes peeled for the crazies, for our old boat, for Emmanuel, desperate to save him. But to my horror and guilt, they were nowhere to
