Chapter 11: The Bridge

Veda had the door open before she was fully dressed.

Lois stood in the corridor in her nightgown with a rolling pin in one fist and a carving knife in the other.

Behind her, a dozen frightened passengers crowded the carpet.

"They took the bridge ten minutes ago," Lois said. "Damon's people. They locked the captain in his own cabin."

Veda's stomach dropped.

It was day twenty-four.

Last time, he had waited until day thirty.

"He moved it up," she said.

"Moved what up?"

"Nothing." She shoved her arms into her jacket. "Get everyone off the upper decks and into the ballroom. Tell them to stay together."

"And you?"

"I'm going to take it back."

She reached for the fire axe, and a hand closed over her wrist.

Tobias was standing in the bedroom doorway in his shirt and trousers, one hand braced against the frame.

He was gray with exhaustion, and he was coming with her.

"No," she said.

"Yes."

"You can't climb six flights."

"Then I'll climb them slowly."

"Tobias."

"You can't leave me here alone with the door open." He said it quietly, and he did not blink.

"Either I walk with you, or I walk after you."

She stared at him.

He meant it.

She had never won an argument with this face in her life, and she did not win it now.

"You stay behind me," she said. "And you do what I say."

"Of course," he said, which meant no.

They went up the crew stairwell, because the main staircase would be guarded.

Lois came behind with twenty passengers in a ragged line, carrying frying pans, boat hooks and fire extinguishers.

On the fourth landing, a guard stepped out of the dark with a rifle at his shoulder.

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