This Same Earth

here, so if I have to, I will. Is this making sense?”

The silent crewman nodded and closed his mouth.

“Good, what language do you speak?”

“Espanol,” he whispered.

“Fine.” She switched to Spanish. “I want off this boat. Like I said, I don’t particularly want to shoot you, but I will if it’ll get me off the boat. Is that a cell phone?” She nodded toward his pocket, where she could see a slight bulge.

“Yes.”

“Give it to me. One hand, in your pocket. No sudden moves, or I’ll shoot you.”

“Yes,” he said as he reached down. “Please, I just work here. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know-”

“Shut up.”

“My name is-”

“Shut. Up.” If she had to shoot him later, she sure as hell didn’t want to know his name. She didn’t know if she could kill him, but the thought of shooting his legs didn’t bother her at all.

The more Beatrice examined the nameless crewman, the more she realized that he looked like a normal guy. He didn’t react or assess the room like someone trained in security, and she smiled a little when she realized she had lucked out.

It also made her feel slightly bad about scaring the shit out of him-she could smell that he had peed his pants- but she wasn’t going to back down.

Let him think she was a big badass; Beatrice was feeling like it at the moment.

He handed her his phone and she stuck it in her pocket. “Thanks. Now, where are we, and how far are we from land?”

“We’re still in the Channel. We had to stop in La Havre before dawn. We are…maybe fifteen miles off the coast of France? Near Cherbourg. I’m not sure.” His voice shook just a little.

“Shit.” The land didn’t look that far away. She was going need a boat. “Where are the lifeboats?”

Would a lifeboat be enough on the English Channel in the middle of February? She had a sudden thought. “This is a freighter, right?”

He nodded, looking confused when she smiled. “So it’s got those big, orange life rafts with navigation and engines and all that stuff? The contained ones?”

“Yes.”

Thank you, Discovery Channel. She shoved the gun closer. “You ever launch one?”

“I-I’ve seen the drills, but there’s never been an emergency-”

“Good enough for me. We’re headed for the lifeboat, mister. If you try to get away, I’ll shoot you. If you try to yell for help, I’ll shoot you. I don’t really have a lot to lose at this point, and I’m sure the creepy, blond asshole that hired you told me you can’t hurt me, so don’t even try.”

She nodded toward the door and the crewman scrambled up, still clutching his groin from where she had kicked him.

Beatrice hadn’t heard anyone pass in the hall, which fit with the deserted feeling she’d gotten from the ship through most of the morning. She nudged the large man in front of her with the barrel of the H &K, taking comfort in the sturdy grip in her hand. She snagged her thick jacket on the way out the door.

Nameless Crewman walked in front of her.

“Where are you taking me?”

“The lifeboats, remember?”

“Honestly, I’ve seen the drills, but there’s never been an emergency, so I don’t know-”

“Feel this?” She nudged his back with the barrel of the gun. “This is an emergency. You’re launching it, and you’re taking me to the nearest stretch of land. And I suggest we get there before nightfall, ‘cause that’s when the monsters come out.”

“Monsters?” She could hear his voice quiver a little, and she shoved down the flicker of sympathy.

“Yeah, monsters. And my boyfriend? He’s the scariest one, so as long as you help me get out of here, you’ll be fine.”

They wound through the corridors of the creaking ship, heading upward at a steady pace. Nameless Crewman didn’t halt and seemed to be cooperating, so they reached the deck in short order. She could smell the fresh sea air when he stopped by the last door.

“Wait, Miss. Let me check outside to see if anyone-”

“I will have this gun at your back the whole time, do you understand? If I think you’re messing with me, I’ll shoot you.” Beatrice was impressed by how firm her voice sounded. She was probably going to fall apart later, but at the moment, the adrenaline and the firearm were making her feel like Superwoman.

He nodded and cracked open the door, only to close it almost immediately.

“There are men out there I do not recognize! With guns. Lots of guns,” he said in a panic. “What is going on? The captain has been acting so strange; he never used to-”

“Shut up! Men? What did they look like?” Giovanni couldn’t have found her already; she had seen the crack of sunlight at the door. Would Lorenzo have hired security that Nameless Crewman didn’t recognize?

She crowded him, shoving the gun into his belly. “Do you know everyone on this boat? What about passengers? Are there any?”

He frowned. “There are the strange people renting the interior cabins. They are odd and they come and go at night while I am off duty-”

“Okay, but the guys out there aren’t them?”

“No. And they’re speaking French. This is a Spanish vessel. We all speak Spanish.”

“French?” Her eyes lit up.

Jean.

She remembered him bragging about his extensive human staff when he gave her his card.

“Day or night, B. If you are in France, call these numbers and someone will help you. I have people everywhere,” he’d said proudly.

She wracked her brain for the numbers he had given her and pulled out Nameless Crewman’s phone. The signal was faint, but it might just be enough. She punched one in and practically cried in relief when she heard the phone ringing on the other end.

“Allo?” a polite woman answered.

“Do you speak English? This is Beatrice De Novo, and Jean Demarais-”

“Ah! Madmoiselle De Novo,” she tumbled off a ridiculously fast stream of French before Beatrice heard another voice on the line.

“Miss De Novo?” a deep voice asked. “Am I speaking with Beatrice De Novo?”

“Yes, you are. I met your boss a few nights ago, and I had a quick question.”

“We have been looking for you since this morning, where-”

“Do you happen to have a whole bunch of guys looking for me on the deck of a freighter in the English Channel right now?”

There was a deep chuckle. “As a matter of fact…”

She sighed in relief but gasped when she felt the cold barrel of a gun at her neck. She dropped the phone when she heard a low voice hiss in Spanish, “You’re not supposed to be out of your cabin, are you?”

Beatrice turned to Nameless Crewman, who was staring in horror at the group of men gathered behind them. He looked at her in panic right before one of the crewmen raised a gun and shot him in the chest. She cried out when the man slumped forward and the pool of blood spread under him.

“No!” I’m sorry…I’m so sorry.

It was Beatrice’s last thought before she felt something strike her temple, and she blacked out.

Chapter Eighteen