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She would need to feed Little Pete sooner rather than later. Before whoever was on the boat got here.
“Come on, Petey,” she said, and guided him up from the end of the bed. “Come on, we’re going to get some food. Munchy munchy?” she said, using a trigger phrase that sometimes worked. “Munchy munchy?”
They could head for the Clifftop restaurant and probably find something there, maybe cook a chicken sandwich or something, or at least find some yogurt or whatever. Or they could play it safe and just empty out the minibars in other rooms.
She opened the door. Looked out into the hallway. It was empty.
“Candy bars it is,” she said, realizing she just didn’t have the nerve to go down to the restaurant.
The room next door had a minibar but no key in the lock. She tried three more rooms before realizing that she had just been lucky that first night. The refrigerators were all locked. But, wait, maybe all the keys were interchangeable.
“Come on, back to our room,” she said.
“Munchy munchy,” Little Pete protested.
“Munchy munchy,” Astrid confirmed. “Come on, Petey.”
Out in the hallway again and then she heard the ding of an elevator. The smooth electric motors opening the door.
Was it Sam? She froze, poised between fear and hope.
Fear won.
The elevator was at the end of the hall and around a bend. She had seconds.
“Come on,” she hissed, and pushed Little Pete forward. With fumbling fingers she slid the passcard into and out of the slot. Too fast. She had to do it slower. Again. Still no green light. One more time and now she could hear the elevator door closing.
It was him. Suddenly she knew it was Drake.
“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.” It was the only prayer she could think of.
She tried the key again. The light blinked to green.
She turned the handle.
He was there. At the end of the hall. Standing there with a rifle over his shoulder and a gun in his hand.
Astrid almost collapsed.
Drake grinned.
He raised the handgun and took aim.
Astrid pushed Little Pete into the room and tumbled in after him.
Astrid slammed the door closed and threw the bolt. Then she added the security lock.
An impossibly loud noise.
The door had a hole in it the size of a dime, with the metal puckered out.
Another explosion and the door handle was hanging half off.
Little Pete could save them. He could. He had the power. But he was still calm, still oblivious.
Useless.
The balcony. It was the only way.
