"Redemption's Run": Chapter 20 closes; chapter 21 begins

A Star Tribune serialized novel by Jane Fredericksen

Chapter 20

The story so far: Matthew and David sail Redemption to safety.

Kacie stared out the window in horror.

As Ronnie came downstairs, Kacie flew at her. "Ronnie! Who's got Redemption? Who's sailing her? She's not his boat, she's not! She's Kinney's!"

Ronnie grabbed her. "It's OK! It's David and Matt. We had to move the boats."

"Coast Guard's coming." Leo hung up the mic. "Someone saw our flare. Did we fire a flare?"

"I'll take this," Ronnie said, and moved beside Leo.

Kacie moved back to her bunk opposite Kinney, picked up the mug of coffee that Pet had given her, but did not drink it. She gripped it tightly, trying to will its warmth into Kinney's body. They had slipped him from his waterlogged raincoat, but he stayed deathly still.

"Pulse is faster," noted Hattie, her voice pinched. "Faint."

"I've done what I can with his head," said Dr. Sykes, frustrated. "I need to look at those ribs. Hattie, get his sweater off."

"It's a pullover. I don't want to take it over his head."

Ronnie's voice rose to an angry shout at the radio. "I can't talk about that, Vince! I've got hurt people here! True Wind out!" She slammed down the mic. She turned to Kinney. "How's he doing?"

Dr. Sykes looked grim. "He needs blood. I don't even know his type."

Ronnie rolled up her sleeve. "Take mine. I'm O negative. Universal donor. Anyone can take it."

"Adler." Hattie spoke softly.

She seemed frozen, staring down at Kinney. She had cut away his sweater, his T-shirt, and they lay in pieces at his side. Kinney's chest was bare.

Kacie could see, even from where she sat.

It was a patchwork of ancient scars. They covered his entire torso, from neck to hip. Cigarette burns. Whip marks, welts, jagged wounds that had been sliced into his skin by something sharp and terrible.

And, most clearly, three words that had been carved into his chest: LIAR. THIEF. CHEAT.

Anyone can have a kid, Kacie, he had told her. That doesn't make him a father.

I should know.

"It's only the wind, Kinney."

Gina's voice echoed in his head as he stood alone on True Wind's deck on the darkest night he had ever known. The clanking of the halyards was frantic and insistent, an alarm bell that unnerved him. He forced himself to take deep breaths, to focus on what needed to be done, but it gave him no peace.

He knew with certainty that a storm was coming. He could feel it in every fiber of his being. He just could not tell from where.

Pay attention.

A pale sliver of moon sliced through the menacing clouds. He followed its path to where it fell, hoping for illumination. That was when he saw it.

His father's.

In dark terror, he scrambled to the cabin to warn her to run, but a whisker pole smashed against his head and laid him flat.

A burly hand grabbed him and slammed him against the cabin wall. He recognized the sneering voice of his father's first mate and the shadows of other crewmembers behind him.

"Hello, Junior," the man taunted. "Daddy sends regrets."

Kinney struggled desperately to get free, to try to scream, but the thick hand around his neck began to squeeze. He could scarcely breathe.

He held up a gutting knife.

The Blade of Truth.

He slammed it into Kinney's side.

"Gina!" Kinney choked.