I turn to the back of the boat and look out at the horizon: sure enough, there, about a mile away, are the slaverunners. They are racing towards us. I watch them come, feeling helpless. We are nearly out of ammo, and they are well-equipped and well manned, with tons of weapons and ammunition. We don’t stand a chance if we fight them, and we don’t stand a chance of outrunning them: they are already closing in. We can’t try to hide again, either.
We have no choice but to confront them. And that would be a losing battle. It is like a death sentence racing towards us on the horizon.
“Maybe we should surrender!” Ben yells out, looking back, terrified.
“Never,” I say.
I can’t imagine becoming their prisoner again.
“If I go down, it’s as a dead man,” Logan echoes.
I try to think, pressing my mind for any solution.
“Can’t you go any faster!?” I press Logan, as I watch them close the gap.
“I’m going as fast as I can!” he shouts back, over the roar of the engine.
I don’t know what else to do. I feel so helpless. Rose is awake now, wailing again, and Penelope barks. I feel as if the whole world is closing in on me. If I don’t think quick, come up with some solution, we will all be dead in minutes.