I got dressed, played with the knife a bit, browsed books, stared at the ceiling, and twiddled my thumbs. As minutes turned to hours, the rumbling in my belly grew impossible to ignore. I hadn’t eaten all day, and as the time went by I began to wonder if Lucas was going to come back before I starved. Even when the engines far beneath me finally roared to life, nobody arrived at my door.
Increasingly, it looked like I was on my own.
I stood at the door, staring at the handle. Everyone who wants to hurt you is locked up. Hopefully. The prospect of danger was becoming less important the hungrier I grew. Finally, when my stomach twisted painfully at an imagined smell, I gained the courage to open the door and poke my head outside.
A burly man lumbered past the doorway, but I was ignored as he moved quickly up the stairs toward the deck. The lower levels seemed to be bustling with activity, rousing my curiosity, but I figured I would learn about it later after I’d grabbed a bite to eat. Tiptoeing was silly on the exposed metal gangway, but I moved as quickly and surreptitiously as I could, slipping inside the galley two doors down.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it was empty, and made a beeline for the big refrigerator. I cringed when I saw what was inside. Raw meat sat open and exposed on plates. Containers with no labels held food I didn’t want to check. Disappointed, I closed the big door and rummaged through the pantry nearby. Everything was in boxes except the sandwich bread, which I pulled out and checked. No mold that I could see marred the white surface, and as hungry as I was that was enough.
While not the most nutritious meal in the world, I scarfed down three plain slices before I searched around for sandwich material. I quickly ruled out anything in the refrigerator and began scanning shelves looking for something to put on a sandwich. I found no peanut butter, which I’d been hoping for, but did find a squeeze tube of something called Marmite. One whiff of the unknown topping had me quickly changing my mind, but as I turned to put it back, I noticed someone across the counter watching me.
Startled, I gave a little squeak, dropping the plastic container in my hands. “Um, hi,” I said uncertainly, bending quickly to retrieve the weird spread.
The boy looked nervous to see me, which calmed me down a bit. He was much younger than most of the others I’d seen on the boat, closer to my age, so I attempted a smile. “I was looking for something to eat.” At his blank stare, I realized there was a possibility he couldn’t understand me. “Um…”
There was an unintelligible shout outside the door to the cafeteria, drawing my attention. The boy’s head snapped around toward the rising voices, then back toward me. I recognized the desperation in his eyes.
Uh oh.
I bolted toward the door but wasn’t fast enough. The boy grabbed my arm, spinning me around and sending me hard against a nearby table. People began filing into the room and he hauled me back against him. The glint of something reflective caught my eye, then I froze as a butcher knife was held against my neck.
Lucas pushed his way to the front, then stopped when he saw me. I glared at him, and the man had the gall to smile. “You must have the worst karma.”
“I know right?” I answered, exasperated, then the knife was pulled harder into my flesh. Every emotion evaporated except fear; when I swallowed, I felt the knife bit into the tender skin of my throat.
“Alexei,” Lucas said in a low voice, smile fading quickly, “put the girl down.”
The boy spat at Lucas, then let go a string of words in a language I didn’t know. From the way he spoke, I knew they were curses, and all directed at Lucas.
“Kolya,” Lucas said in a sharp voice, and the man I recognized as Lucas’ driver stepped forward. “Please translate.”
“Fuck you.”
Lucas glanced at the tattooed Russian, then snorted. “I figured as much. Tell him to please let Ms. Delacourt go.”
The big driver translated, but Alexei shook his head and let loose another round of angry words. “He said no,” Kolya translated, obviously paraphrasing.
“Ask him why he sabotaged this ship.”
“Sink everything.” The words this time came from Alexei, who again spat at Lucas. “Especially you.”
“Ah, the boy speaks.” Lucas gave a grim smile. “And what, may I ask, have I ever done to you?”
“You kill my family,” the boy snarled. “Your guns, slaughter them.”
Lucas’ smile slipped. “Who told you that?”
I realized he wasn’t even bothering to deny the claims.
“I set bomb, but it not go right.” Alexei ignored Lucas’ question. “You at the bottom of the sea, then I see my family again.” He indicated the room with the knife, shouting something else I didn’t understand.
“That was for us,” Kolya said when Lucas glanced at him. The driver’s eyes were on Alexei. “For working with you.”
“Ten years.” Alexei’s body tense with rage and pain, “I wait for revenge ten years. And now, I fail.”
Lucas’ head shot up. “Ten years was before my time,” he said, face deadly serious. “I didn’t sell those weapons that killed your family.”
Against my back, Alexei’s body began to shake. “You lie,” he murmured, and I felt the tension in the room escalate.
Something in my pocket bumped against my thigh, and a bulb went off in my head. The knife! I pulled it out slowly, lungs quaking with the fear of being caught, and unfolded it close to my body where I prayed Alexei wouldn’t see.
When it was open I gripped it tight in my hand, but paused when I saw Lucas’ hand make a patting motion in the air. Don’t make me wait. I held off, hoping the gunrunner knew what he was doing. I tried not to swallow for fear the blade would cut deeper into my skin.
Lucas shook his head at Alexei. “Whoever told you I was the broker ten years ago is the liar, not me. Tell me, boy, who gave you that information?”
Alexei seemed to struggle with an answer, and my hand trembled around the knife. A tickle flowed down my neck right where the blade sat, and I knew I was bleeding. An inch deeper, and there would be a whole lot more blood.
“But you sell more weapons.” The boy seemed to rally with this revelation. “You kill more families.” The hands holding me tightened. “Why should I not kill yours?”
I wasn’t waiting on Lucas any more; I heard my death in those words. You had your chance, buddy. Shifting sideways, I plunged my knife backwards until I felt the sickening jolt of it hitting flesh. Alexei’s cry rang out in my ear and we tumbled to the ground. The arm holding the butcher knife to my neck relaxed enough to let me push it away, but I still felt the tip graze my neck as we hit the ground.