Shadows in the Timber - Chapter 11.

Instructions

Watching the waves crash against the boat brought me a large sense of dread. Kestrel stood next to me, whistling quietly and staring out blankly. The boat offered a couple of things, like food, but I wasn't sure if I would be able to keep it down. The boat ride was long, and the constant rocking didn't help much. As Kestrel and I stepped off the boat at the island, I felt queasy, and she practically had to hold me up to stop me from fainting. After further observation, we found the island mostly had restaurants and the famous white lighthouse. After a couple of minutes of walking, we started to run. We didn't know where we were running, but the 5 cops questioning the ferry operator were enough of a reason to run. There were campgrounds. We had docked near Ocracoke's lighthouse, so if we went up the island in theory we'd find the campground. My head pounded as Kestrel practically dragged me along. "Kes," I whispered, pointing towards three young cops looking around. I pulled her into a store as they passed through. Surprisingly, we found ourselves in a bakery, the smell of freshly baked goods making my stomach rumble. We hadn't brought much money, definitely not enough for the pastries. I collapsed onto a couch placed next to a window. "We /need/ to find that campground," I huffed, out of breath. Kestrel nodded robotically. "Kes? What if they find us?" I asked in a low whisper. Kestrel let a small tear slip out before shaking her head. "No, I won't let them find you," she said. A young boy burst through the doors, sweating profusely. He walked up to the counter and handed the lady 20-dollar bills. "Could I have a loaf of bread, ma'am?" he asked charmingly. He couldn't have been much older than Kestrel, yet he seemingly was alone. The clerk handed him a loaf that made the air smell heavenly; he smiled and waltzed out of the store. I rose quickly despite Kestrel's protest and chased after him. "Excuse me! Sir," I called out, catching his attention. The boy's sun-tanned skin and dark brown eyes showed a mix of confusion and entertainment. "I hardly think I'm old enough to be called sir yet," he laughed, flashing the same charming smile he had inside the bakery. "Want a piece?" he asked, ripping a piece of bread off the loaf, then wiping the sweat off his face with his tattered shirt. I nodded gratefully and took a bite of the warm, mouth-watering bread. "What's your name?" I asked, noticing Kestrel approaching, her eyes locked on the bread. "Dakota! Dakota the breadboy, in fact," he laughed. "I bring bread to this family every morning. I hope they won't mind I gave you a piece. " They're normally really nice, and I get paid 100 a week," he explained, noticing our puzzled expressions. This boy was odd, but something about him stuck out to me, maybe he could help us..