Blue on Blue

Chapter Thirty-One

Melting snow mounds line the narrow strip of bridge leading to Cayder Bay, making only one lane of passage possible for cars entering and exiting the island. 

"That storm last night dropped a foot of snow," the cabbie says, glancing through the windshield. "You'd never know it with the way the sun is streaming down, would you?" He steers the taxi toward a cop directing traffic. 

"Get low," Eli whispers to Maggie. 

She lets out a shaky breath, slouching into the seat next to him. 

He scoots down below the window line and curls his arm around her. "The highways were covered with surveillance cameras. They must know we're here." 

"Steady as she goes," the cabbie says, steering the taxi. He smiles and nods at the Cayder Bay policeman, mindlessly waving the line of cars through a pathway of orange cones. 

The bridge deck widens and the cabbie picks up speed. 

"Whew," Maggie sighs. She springs up and peers back at the cop. 

"Maggie, not yet!" Eli warns, tugging at her shirt. "Stay low." 

The cop does a double take and squints at the cab. He pulls his walkie from his belt. 

Eli lets out a heavy sigh. "Crap! Let us out at Cove Beach," he says to the cabbie. He glances at Maggie. "We can climb the rocks from there to the lighthouse." 

"Good idea," she says. "Sticking to the shoreline will give us our best chance at making it there without getting spotted." 

"That's if we even make it to Cove Beach. We're in a neon yellow cab with a giant cabbie at the wheel. We may as well have a spot light shining directly over us," Eli says. "It's only a matter of minutes before they find us." 

Maggie gives the cabbie's shoulder an urgent tap. "Stop here. I know a way through the woods."

The tires screech in front of a dense stretch of trees and shrubs. 

Eli shoulders the car door. "Come on, Maggie. We have to go." 

The cabbie slings his arm over the seat and turns to face Maggie. "You best be going." 

Maggie places her hand on top of his. The cross scar is smooth beneath her fingers. "You never told me your name," she says.  

The cabbie's golden eyes brighten beneath the brim of his baseball cap. "Michael," he says. 

A crescent shaped smile fills Maggie's lips. "Thanks for saving us, Michael." 

"I'm happy to have helped, dear child, but it isn't me who saves." He lifts his chin and points to her cross necklace. "Wear it well." 

Maggie grips her backpack, full of truths and secrets, and slides out of the cab. 

"God speed!" Michael shouts.

Maggie and Eli traipse into the woods.

They pace to the shoreline and scurry along the rocks, leading them to the island's northern most tip – to the lighthouse.

Eli navigates the slippery rocks, forging the path ahead. The two of them are quiet for most of their journey, each of them lost within their own heads, turning over all they have discovered. 

They slosh along in the water, spilling onto their feet. The rock path is shrinking rapidly with the rising tide.

Eli glances up at the cliff wall, as cragged and crinkled as an old man's face. Maggie feels something like a giant as she steps over hermit crabs crawling through tide pools and snails wearing moon shells on their backs.