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She chose level one, and the doors slid shut.
The elevator rattled through the cargo hold, up to the upper deck, then to level one.
Opened.
The hallway was dark, no light spilling out any of the windows. She stepped out and scampered down the hall, suddenly deeply grateful for her wool boots, like slippers on the metal floors.
She peered into windows and finally spotted the infirmary. A couple men lay in cots, but the room was dark.
And next door…she eased the big door open and slipped inside.
Eighty-One lay already in his bag, on a table, the form sending a shiver up her back. He wasn’t a big man, but frankly, the idea of crawling inside with him…
Nope. Nope—
The rest. Of her.Life.
She swallowed hard. Okay, yes, just…do it.
Zipping it open, she saw that they’d wrapped the man in a sheet. She made a face and climbed on top of him. Oh, he was board hard and smelly and…
And the bag wouldn’t zip over both of them.
So much for Judah’s brilliant plan.
Except, what if it wasn’t Eighty-One in the bag? She got off him, shook the willies off herself, and looked around.
The corpse room was nothing more than an old bunk room, and yes, probably an extension of the infirmary. But it still contained the bunks.
And compartments under the bunks for storage.
Probably Eighty-One could fit in one of those?
She grabbed the man by his shoulders and worked him off the edge of the gurney. He dropped onto the floor like a brick. Sorry. And hopefully no one heard her.
Then she dragged him over to the bottom bunk, pushing the bed up with her foot. Then she pushed him into the compartment, dragging him up, turning him. Oh, he barely fit, but she managed to get the bed down over him.
They’d find him in a few days, but by then, hopefully, she’d be long gone.
She straightened out the bag. Tried not to think of the corpse inside and then got in.
But as she was zipping it up, Judah’s words came back to her.He’ll cushion your fall into the sea.
Without the corpse, she’d hit the sea with a bone-crunching smack.
And what was the difference, then, between just jumping overboard or being dropped in a bag?
No. This was stupid.
She climbed out of the bag. Zipped it up.
Let them think Eighty-One was walking around as a ghost.
Then she slipped out of the infirmary and down the hall. Stopped when she heard voices, but they dissipated.
She took the stairs down to the main deck.
Oh, this ship was big. She looked down the deck to the forecastle, the cafeteria built above the cargo hold. It was dark, but that didn’t mean Captain Boris and his men weren’t having tea—or vodka—nearby.
