"What were you thinking?" Abe questioned in hoarse disbelief. He pried another curved chunk of shattered ice off the back of Stella's hand. She snarled when a microscopic layer of skin went with it.
"I th-thought," she began, managing to sound commanding despite the stutter,"he was w-working for them."
Stella beat some stubborn ice from the front of her coat. Most of it had shattered when she'd fallen, and Abe had broken through to her face before she'd suffocated. The remaining ice clung to her in bitter pieces, clumps of it hanging onto her hair and clothes. Her skin was red, raw, and freezing, and her breaths came out in trembling gusts, but she was already moving again. Moving and mad.
"Working for the Hollows?" Abe scurried to follow, grabbing the instruments he'd dropped along the way. He was mystified. "Why would you think that?"
"Instinct," Stella said, walking fast around the base of the platform, leaving a trail of ice chunks behind her.
"I beg your pardon?"
Stella ignored him. She stopped without warning when the dock came into view, thrusting a hand into the lining of her coat and frowning. Abe sailed into her, dropping nearly everything he had gathered in his arms. Stella did not seem to notice; she was too preoccupied with the revelation that she'd left her binoculars in the Buick. Cursing, she turned abruptly and started back up the platform steps.
"Where are you going?" Abe scooped everything into his arms again, following her. On his way up the steps, he bumped into at least three people, totally oblivious to the dirty looks he earned. "We’ve lost them already! What about the other two? This is a disaster!"
"We haven't lost them," Stella said firmly. She stepped to the edge of the platform, looked down the length of the stone bannister, and marched over to where an apparently unattended child was peering through a tourist viewer.
Stella promptly hoisted the speechless boy out of the way, stuck her eyes to the viewer, and swung it towards the parking lot on the Ellis Island shore, where the first return ferry was releasing its passengers.
"Get a pen," she snapped.
Abe grumbled and set everything down so he could fish a pen from his pocket, wincing uncomfortably when the displaced child started whining and pulling at his coat. He hastened to un-wrinkle a grocery receipt for something to write on. Stella was already dictating her observations.
"Alright," she said. "They’re in the parking lot. The big one is getting in a blue and gray Chevrolet pickup, not sure about the model, can’t see the plates—are you getting all of this?"
"Yes!" Abe scribbled furiously, mildly aware that people were beginning to stare as the child hugged his knees and wailed.
"No, wait," Stella corrected. "He was just getting something out of the truck. Now they’re all getting into another car. Honda, compact, dark purple, Tennessee plates AFJ-662." She stopped again to process what she was seeing before speaking up again. "Any idea who the young lady might be? She’s driving."
"Ow!" Abe squawked when the child kicked him in the shin. "No, no idea who she is." He rubbed the spot gingerly and watched the little shit run back to his parents.
"Thought so," Stella muttered. Before Abe could ask exactly what she was implying, she backed away from the viewer. "They exited south-bound. Let's get going."
Abe scrambled to see the car she was talking about, but couldn’t. When he turned around again, Stella was of course gone, already hurrying down the steps. And from that direction, a small group of angry adults were headed his way, sobbing child in tow.
Frantic, Abe pocketed the notes, gathered his tools up again, and chased after Stella, down the steps and toward the ferry landing. "So now what?" he panted, catching up.
Stella answered without interrupting her step. "Now, I order a scan on those plates, you track where they’re headed on your little gadget, I call in backup, and we head over to Long Island."
Abe looked confused, but impressed.
"How do you know they’re going to Long Island?"
"I don’t," she said. "But wherever they’re going, we’re following on my bike."
Vessel, Book I: The Advent Page 29
