Schism Read Free Page A

Hatteras by more than a few kilometers. And if the weather’s bad, we may land somewhere north of Nags Head or somewhere south into Cape Lookout,” he warned.
    “I’ll just be glad if we hit land that’s somehow connected to America,” Andy replied as she followed along with a map.
    The two of them did most of the packing while Morgan continued to recover. Her mental condition remained fragile, and Andy worried how she would handle the voyage. Would she have the strength to save either her brother or her if one of them fell overboard? What if she fell overboard herself? Would she have the will to swim and save her own life?
    When she cautiously voiced these concerns, Morgan’s brusque reply was, “I was raped. If I can live through that, I can live through anything. I just want to leave this island forever and never return.”
    Andy let the matter rest.
    Few items were taken for the journey. Besides sufficient supplies of food, water, clothing, and medicine, Andy brought along her collection of medical journals and pistol. Charlie took his favorite books, sailing tools, and the shotgun. Morgan, however, brought nothing more than her clothes and shoes. Amazed how five years of living could be condensed into a few hours of packing, they closed the beach house for the last time and departed.
    The sky was beautiful that morning and the wind perfect for sailing. They got off to a quick start as Bermuda disappeared over the horizon.
    As she gazed westward, Andy wondered what her home—her country—would be like.
    It was her nineteenth birthday.

Chapter III
    T hey reached the outer shores of North Carolina after five days and nights at sea. Dehydrated, seasick, and exhausted from restless sleep, all three collapsed onto the sand under the sun until their equilibrium returned and their stomachs stopped churning. With their balance regained, they turned their focus inland.
    With the sailboat securely anchored, they walked north along the shore to determine where exactly they had landed. After a mile, buildings materialized in the distance. Leading the way, Andy headed toward the buildings until reaching what appeared to be the main road dividing a small beach town. Derelict homes and storefronts just one bad storm away from crumbling to the ground were scattered along the road. Another quarter-mile further, they approached a tilting sign that read ‘Salvo.’
    Charlie retrieved a folded map labeled ‘Cape Hatteras National Seashore’ from his back pocket and found the town of Salvo. After a quick mental calculation, he pointed out their location. “We’re here, about fifty kilometers south of Nags Head, which is…” He traced the map with his finger, “…here. From there we can take the bridge on this road…I-64…over to the mainland. Or this road…158.” Charlie shrugged. “I guess it all depends on where we want to go from here.”
    Andy squinted at the map, shading her eyes from the summer sun. “Fifty kilometers? That’s what, about thirty miles? We’re not walking thirty miles.” The journey at sea had taken its toll on Morgan, and the yellow bruising around her eye on her otherwise pale face now gave her a deathlike appearance. “We can either hope to find a car in town or go back to the boat and sail north along the coast.”
    “I don’t think I can spend another minute on that boat,” Morgan uttered weakly and pleaded with her eyes. “I’m sorry, but I know I’ll get sick again.”
    “Okay, then we’ll just have to find a car and some gas,” Andy replied in her most reassuring voice. She then exchanged her pistol for the shotgun in Charlie’s hand and nodded toward a rickety wooden bench on the other side of the road. “Wait there while I take a look around.”
    As Andy watched them cross the road, she couldn’t help but notice how frail Morgan looked. Already a thin girl, her weight had clearly dropped since her attack.
    Salvo was nothing more than a hollowed-out ghost town swept away