They had to get moving. Now.

Brodie would realize he hadn’t heard from Tony and come looking for him. More men would come for them soon.

Jenner felt Deb’s pulse; a little faster than the last time he’d checked. Her bleeding might have slowed, but she was clearly washed out from blood loss and stress. He would help her move.

And Lucy Craine—what could Jenner do for her? The Volvo was in the driveway, so her grandfather had to be in the farmhouse.

Shit.

First things first. They wouldn’t hurt Lucy—she was with Craine—but they would kill him and Deb.

Deb first, then Lucy.

Jenner cracked the door and peered out. He saw no one.

He slipped out into the rain, crouching as he neared the dock. Two boats—a shallow draft Go-Devil swamp boat with a large outboard motor, and a big airboat—were tied to the dock; the airboat was half up on the grass bank.

If he took either, he’d be caught. By the time he got the outboard running, the men would sprint down the slope and across the field. Then they’d just hop in the airboat and hunt them down. Besides, what if the outboard wasn’t even gassed, or if he couldn’t start it?

And, even beyond the deafening roar of its huge aircraft engine, the airboat was a complete nonstarter—it was controlled with a stick, like a World War I fighter plane, and Jenner had no clue how to pilot it.

Jenner saw a large green canoe lying facedown alongside the boat shed, and a canary-yellow kayak next to it. The deep grass around the canoe gave it a neglected air, but it could hold two people, whereas the slender kayak was built for one.

The canoe, then. There would be risk—it could be seen from the farmhouse porch—but he didn’t have any choice. He’d be paddling alone, so it would be slow, too, but it would be silent.

He went back in, told Deb the plan. She listened and, when he’d finished, nodded somberly.

“I’ll bring the canoe down to the water now, then come back for you, okay?”

“Be careful, Jenner.”

He smiled and nodded, and went out into the dark and the rain.