“Yes. Once.” I shake my head. “I need to know—how many of the crew know what’s happening? Who do I avoid? Is there anyone who can help us?”
They look at one another. The woman on the bunk answers without moving. “Depends on the day. Some don’t look at us at all. Some are allowed. Training.” The word is careful. “Some pretend it’s not happening because they’re paid extra not to see.”
“The captain?” I ask.
“Paid,” Split Lip says. “Don’t go up there thinking he’ll call anybody. He won’t.”
A small voice emerges from the second tier of cots. “Are you leaving?” The girl can’t be more than seventeen. She’s got onesock on and a strip of fabric tied around her wrist like a bandage. The other sock? “Can you take me?”
My chest tightens. “I’m trying to find a radio. Or a way to signal.” I force my voice calm. “I can’t take you now. If I try to move a whole group, we’re all done for. I need to get a message out, then come back with a plan. I swear to you, I am coming back.”
“Other people have said that.” Messy Bun lowers her eyes. “Then we don’t see them again.”
“I’m not those people.” I step closer so they can read my face. “The men I love will burn this ship to the waterline to get me back. They don’t stop. They will not stop.”
That gets me a dry little laugh from Split Lip. “Must be nice.”
“It will be,” I say, and I mean it so hard it makes my teeth hurt. “Tell me about the guards.”
“Two with guns,” the woman says. “Three more who run their mouths. They all work in shifts. They leave one in the hall unless someone calls them while they’re having their fun with us.” Her mouth twists. “If someone calls them, they lock us, then go.”
“How often?”
“Depends.” She looks at the boy, then back at me. “Today’s…busy.”
“Danner?” I ask before I can stop the name.
They all go still. The woman nods once. “He’s the one with the teeth.”
Yeah. That tracks.
Footsteps thump above us again. A radio squawks something excited in the distance. The guard from this door was clearly called away because of me. That’s how I was able to get in. He will be back soon. I need to move before I get stuck here.
The boy swings his legs off the bunk. He has a scar that hooks his eyebrow. “You’re from the casino,” he says, testing me. “The big one. My sister said it was pretty.”
“It is.” I swallow. “What’s your name?”
He hesitates, then, “Luis.”
“Luis, I’m going to lock this door behind me so they don’t check. I know that sounds wrong. I need you to trust me. If they find you with the door open, they might move you. And if they move you, I lose you.”
“Don’t leave us,” the girl with the bandage whispers. “Please don’t.”
“I’m not.” I make myself steady. “I’m going to get something started, then I’m coming back. Hold each other. Drink if you have water. Stay small when they’re near. When you hear shouting that isn’t theirs…that’ll be me.”
Split Lip studies me like she’s measuring me for lies. Finally she nods, a single jerk of her head. “Okay, Phoenix,” she says. “Go.”
I back away toward the door. The key is warm from my pocket. I turn it from the inside, slip out, and turn it again from the hall. The lock clicks, and in spite of every instinct to do otherwise, I leave the key as I found it, in the keyhole. A small chorus rises—“No, don’t—wait—”—panic lifting all their voices to the same pitch.
I press my mouth to the seam. “Shh. I have to. It keeps you safe for five more minutes.” I lay my palm flat to the metal. “I’m coming back.”
Silence. Then the woman’s voice, low. “Go.”
I turn—and a hand closes around my neck.
Fingers like a clamp, breath hot in my face. Something hard jams into my stomach—a belt buckle, I think. The smell is male sweat and blood and cheap aftershave.
I close my eyes, my skin crawling.
