Triton (7 page)

On the Sky Walk toward the ship’s stern, a figure walked into the sunlight and paused at the railing overlooking the Pool Deck—searching the decks like she was.

A man.

Relief flooded through her, and she waved. A moment later he waved back and began jogging toward her.

He closed the distance between them with hunter-like agility, hurdling lounge chairs and loping across the open deck. All at once, her chest tightened with fear. She backed away from the railing.

There was no one left on board except for one mysterious man, and now she had drawn attention to herself. Now he was approaching . . .
fast
.

For all she knew, he had poisoned the crew and was now finishing off the survivors. She should have watched him first to learn his motives.

The elevator. Her head jerked around . . . but did she have time? If she took it down to the bottom, she could evade him in the mazelike crew section she knew so well—

Too late. He was upon her; his athletic body flew over the top of the stairs and headed off her escape.

As he came nearer, though, her fear evaporated. Though he had a man’s stature, he couldn’t have been much older than she was. He had a broad jaw, sensuous lips, and thick, curly hair that winked in the sunlight.

He stopped a safe distance away and pulled off his aviator sunglasses. “Jake,” he said, holding out his hand.

She took it. “Naomi.”

“You’re the first person I’ve seen,” he said.

“Likewise.”

Jake sized up
the girl. Pretty, light brown hair . . . seventeen, if he had to guess. Not really his type, though.

“I’ve been searching the diners below deck,” he said. “No one there.”

“No one up here, either,” Naomi said. “And this is the best lookout spot.”

“Any crew?”

“No crew . . . no passengers.”

He wondered briefly if Brynn was off the ship too—
Stop it, Jake
 . . . she comes later. Right now he needed to focus. “I thought everyone had gotten off at a port somewhere, but there’s no land in sight.”

“Yeah, we’re in open ocean between the East Coast and Bermuda. There’s nothing for hundreds of miles.”

“Any theories?”

“Still in their cabins,” she offered. “Food poisoning, maybe?”

“Maybe, except my parents aren’t in my room. Yours?”

“My mom’s an assistant maître d’; she’s never in her cabin.”

“Well, I guess they’re either in their cabins or somewhere else on this ship. Let’s stick together, Naomi. See if we can find someone.”

“Deal.”

“Let’s check the bow.” Jake led her along the railing to the front of deck seventeen, which looked out over the Solarium Bar and the front of the ship, mostly taken up by a helicopter landing pad—empty.

A few hundred feet below them, the ship’s sleek bow cut through the waves with a steady chopping sound. Next to him, Naomi’s eyes narrowed.

Jake followed her gaze. “You see something?”

“At least we know there’s
someone
onboard; The ship’s under power. There have to be at least two officers and a Quartermaster on the bridge in order to pilot the ship.”

“Should we try to talk to them?”

She shook her head. “We can’t get there. It’s all restricted.”

“We could wave at them from the bow?”

“Can’t get there either. Besides, this isn’t their problem. We shouldn’t distract them. This is something we take up with guest services.”

Jake pushed off the railing. “Well, there are eighteen decks on this ship, most of which aren’t restricted. Let’s start at the top and work our way down. They have to be here somewhere.”

From the balcony
of their stateroom on deck fourteen, Brynn could just make out the glass railings of an endless array of balconies stretching the length of the
Cypress
if she craned her neck.

In the room behind her, Cedar flipped through the channels on the TV, each one filling the screen with static. She faced him, watched him for a second, and opened her mouth—

“We’re staying here, Brynn,” he said, before she could even speak. He flipped a few more channels, jabbing the remote as if enough force alone could generate a clear picture. “Damn satellite TV. I’m going to check the wires behind the television. Maybe one’s out.”

“Cedar, I’m not seeing anybody on the other balconies. Maybe there’s an emergency drill we don’t know about.”

“We’re staying put,” he said, reaching into the narrow gap between the TV and the wall.

Brynn sighed and returned to her post at the railing. Odd that she still hadn’t seen anybody. It was practically lunch time, and not one person had so much as peeped over any of the five hundred balconies within view.

“Everything’s plugged in back here,” Cedar mumbled. “We’re getting a discount for this, Brynn. This is bullshit.” In a huff, he collapsed on the bed and stared absently at the hissing TV. Apparently, he had decided watching static was still the best use of his time.

“Cedar,” said Brynn more firmly. “There’s no one on the other balconies. We need to go find out what’s going on.”

Cedar rubbed his face in his hands. “Alright,” he said finally. “
Alright
. But only because the TV’s down. We’ll ask a few bars if they’ve seen him. Write Dad a note.”

Brynn fetched some lined paper from the bedside table and scribbled out,

Dad,

We went looking for you. Be back in five minutes. Hope you’re okay.

Love,

B & C

Cedar pulled on his shoes, his expression grim. “I hope he passed out and died.”

“You’re a horrible person.”

“I’m sick of his drinking and I’m sick of taking care of him.”

Brynn finished putting on her own tennis shoes and reached for the handle of the door—but Cedar’s fingers closed on her wrist.

He lowered his face to within inches of hers. “I am so serious this time, Brynn, it’s not even funny.
Don’t
wander off.”

Cedar stepped out
into the hall ahead of Brynn. Deserted. No doubt everyone was up on the decks sunning themselves. He supposed he could use a tan too. He had worked as a lifeguard all summer, but the pool had been indoors.

Maybe later while their dad was sleeping off his hangover, he’d catch some rays on the Pool Deck.

Right now they had to find him.

Wordlessly, he and Brynn walked up the length of the hallway, which stretched five hundred feet ahead and behind them—empty as far as the eye could see.

Cedar checked his cell phone. Still no service, of course. Not in the middle of the Atlantic. The clock displayed quarter till noon. Once the lunch rush started, waiters and bartenders would be too busy to help them. He picked up his pace.

They reached the elevator lobby, also deserted, and took an elevator to the Sky Walk on level sixteen. There were four bars up there to check, some of them probably open all night. Cedar stepped out onto the deck—and froze.

Wind whistled in his ears. The entire length of the ship stretched before him, silent and deserted. Not one passenger was up here. The pools were still, the lounge chairs vacant, the bars empty—when just yesterday the deck had been packed.

“That’s weird,” he said. “Did they close the area?”

“I told you there was an emergency drill,” said Brynn, her tone irritated. “We need to find someone and ask them what’s going on—hey, there’s someone!”

Cedar followed her finger to the aft observation deck presiding over the back of the ship, where two figures waved.

Brynn raised her hand to wave back.

Before she could, Cedar grabbed her elbow and hustled her back indoors, out of view. “Don’t draw attention to yourself,” he spat. “You don’t know those people and you don’t know what they’re capable of. Come on. He’s not out there anyway.”

“Get your hands
off
me,” she said, whipping her elbow out of his grip.

“The Solarium Bar’s just around the corner,” he said.

“Cedar, we’re not supposed to be up here.”

He ignored her and led the way past the elevators to the brightly lit forward part of the deck. Glassed-in and strewn with lounge chairs, empty pots, and hot tubs, the entire Solarium Bar was privy to panoramic views of the ocean. Sunshine streamed in through overhanging trusses, dappling the planks with patterned shade.

This room too had been closed off. At its center, a circular counter served a dozen empty bar chairs.

“We’re really not supposed to be here,” said Brynn, her eyes darting around the empty space.

Cedar dragged her to the bar and knocked loudly on the countertop. “Bartender!” he shouted. “Bartender, where the hell are you?”

“Cedar, shut up,” said Brynn, again yanking her hand out of his grip. There’s no one here.”

“Well, they’re supposed to be.”

A second later, the two figures they had seen aft burst into the bar, out of breath. Cedar recognized them both—Naomi, the girl he had hung out with last night, and Jake, the douchebag he’d caught hitting on Brynn.

Well whoop-de-doo.

Jake’s eyes flicked from Cedar to Brynn—and stayed there. Imperceptibly, the guy raised an eyebrow at her. Brynn turned away from him and blushed bright red.

No, he did
not
just see that—

“Whoa, whoa . . .” Cedar strode forward and planted a palm on the guy’s chest, halting him. “Slow it down there big guy. What’s that look you just gave my little sister?”

The guy had two inches on him. “I didn’t give her a look.”

“You gave her a look.”

“He didn’t give me a look,” said Brynn.

Cedar spoke to her over his shoulder. “Why so quick to defend him, Brynn?”

“Cedar,
stop
being an asshole,” she said.

Cedar tilted his head back, regarding the guy from a different angle. “Do you think I’m an asshole, Jake?”

“I know you’re an asshole.”

“That’s right, I am,” said Cedar. “And that’s my sister. That means you don’t touch her, you don’t
look
at her . . . got it?”

Jake opened his mouth an if to say something but must have thought better of it. He raised his palms in surrender and stepped back. “Okay, you win.”

“Smart man,” Cedar muttered. “Smart man . . . I
always
win.” He turned to the girl. “Hi, Naomi.”

She was glaring at him, her mouth agape. “We’re in the middle of an emergency right now, Cedar. You need to chill the fuck out.”

“Yeah, there’s an emergency drill or something,” said Brynn.

“There’s no drill,” said Jake. “We’ve checked everywhere. We’ve been checking all morning. You guys are the first passengers we’ve seen. As far as we can tell, we’re the only four people on board.”

“Where’s everyone else?” asked Brynn.

“Gone,” he said.

“What do you mean
gone?
” said Cedar. “They’re not gone.”

“They’re gone,” said Jake. “This ship is abandoned.”

The Other Passenger

Abandoned. The word
lingered in Brynn’s mind. Ever since Jake’s arrival, she had been unsuccessfully studying his impassive face for clues to his opinion about last night—about
her
—but his statement snapped her attention back to the present. “But they’re somewhere on board, right?” she said.

“All I know is we need to organize a plan,” said Jake.

“A
plan?
Who put you in charge?” said Cedar.

Jake whipped around to face her brother. “Do you have a better plan than coming up with a plan?”

Cedar crossed his arms. “I say we all head back to our cabins and wait this one out.”

“Wait for what?” said Jake.

“They’ll come back.”

“I’m sure they will. This isn’t magic, after all. But don’t you want to find your family? I don’t know about you, but I’m wondering where they are.”

“It’s Zé Carlos,” Cedar muttered.

“Say again?” said Jake.

“The magician, Zé Carlos. This is his handiwork.”

Jake moved on. “Does anyone else want to add anything before we start the search of the ship?”

Silence greeted his question. Brynn shared a glance with Naomi, whom she liked already. Not many girls could call Cedar out like she had earlier.

“Yeah, one thing,” said Naomi, clearing her throat. “The
Cypress
is huge; there’s fifteen decks above the waterline, three below it . . . three thousand rooms, over twelve miles of hallways—not including the passageways in the restricted crew sections. This ship is a floating maze. My advice is we stick together.”

“Noted,” said Jake, and to Brynn and Cedar he added, “Hear that, guys?”

Brynn gaped at the girl. “How do you know all that?”

“My mom’s an assistant maître d’.”

A floating maze
 . . . Fear pooled in the pit of Brynn’s stomach.

Naomi continued. “Jake and I already checked the Sky Walk and the Pool Deck. We can go deck by deck until we reach the bottom of the ship.”

“Maybe we should all check our rooms again,” said Brynn. “In case our parents came back.”

“Then the public areas on the lower decks,” said Naomi. “In case there’s an event we don’t know about.”

“Well, they have to be down there somewhere.” Jake led the way out of the Solarium Bar to the elevators. “Cedar and Brynn’s room first, then mine, then Naomi’s. In that order.”

In the starboard
hallway running the length of deck fourteen, Cedar fell behind the others and pulled his sister with him.

“I don’t trust them,” he muttered under his breath.

“Apparently you trusted Naomi enough to spend the night with her,” she hissed.

“I don’t trust
him
.”

“Well, get over it.”

She wasn’t getting the point . . .
big surprise
. Time for evasive maneuvers. He stopped at stateroom 652, cleared his throat, and announced, “This is our room, guys.”

The others spun around.
Got ’em.

Cedar patted his pockets and put on a dumb-and-confused face—courtesy of his sister, whose overuse of the look had burned it into his memory. “Oops,” he said, also matching her usual ditsy tone. “Must have misplaced the key. Okay, Jake’s room next.”