Page 22 of The Final Storm
She leaves, and Lori and I stare at each other through the steady beep of Luke’s monitor, both feeling the same fear, and thinking the same thing.
“He wouldn’t leave that ship,” Lori says. “He’s the Captain’s errand boy, and he’s powerful there.”
“But he’s probably alive.” I choke on the words when I say them out loud. I can feel it. I’ve always felt it, just like Gemma described. He’s out there somewhere, making moves toward his agenda.
Would it be enough for him to have full control of the Thalassa, or was this just the beginning?
My dreams still hold voids, these pockets of nothingness. I doubt I’ll rest enough in this place to slip into a dream at all. This haze of day and night confuses my senses. Every time I awaken, I’m unsure of where I am or what I should be doing.
“It’s shift change,” a voice rings out. A man in scrubs hovers over me with a kind smile. “And you have a call to make.”
“Right,” I murmur. He hands me the radio, raising one side of his mouth in a smile, and patting me on my arm. Lori moves to my side, still in deep thought from the earlier news. I think about asking him about the ones that fled the Thalassa, but Sam’s words stop me this time. I don’t want to draw attention to us and risk our stay here.
“Can I see their charts?” I ask instead. Lori purses her lips. Her mind works like mine, and I know she’s having the same thoughts and questions, debating what to ask.
“Not much change, I’m afraid,” the nurse replies. “Morgan still hasn’t gained the weight we would like. Luke is stable, but no change.”
“How long do you think he’ll be in this coma?” I ask. Every medic gets this line of questioning, but I hope one day to get a definitive answer.
“We won’t forcibly wake him up yet. But maybe in a few days…” he trails off.
I nod and bring myself to standing, forcing a smile back. He doesn’t have to tell me anything, so I take what he offers and let him finish his day. “Okay, thanks.”
“Just leave that here,” he tells me, pointing to the radio. “When you’re done.”
He leaves, and I stretch my arms above my head and yawn, letting my bones crack and my eyes close.
“It’s your turn,” I tell Lori. Lately, the boys have so much to tell us, we’re alternating who calls. They all want to talk to each of us anyway, so this time, Lori has fifteen minutes with all four kids yelling about worms and weapons.
She rolls the radio in her hand and smiles. “Have you asked the boys about any visions?”
“Yes. Nothing new,” I admit. It’s true, and I’m frustrated. I’m begging my mind to tell me something after all these years of trying to keep the visions at bay. “But you can ask.”
She grunts and shifts around on her cot while I yawn and try to stretch. Everything hurts, and my muscles feel like rocks.
I whip back the curtain, exposing the windows to the outside hallway, and someone flashes in my peripheral coming around the corner.
Turning, a woman faces me on the other side of the glass.
The woman.
The woman from my premonitions.
I sprint to the door, almost tripping over my own feet. “Row,” I hear Lori call.
“Did you see that?” I gasp through the open doorway. I look up and down the hallway but see nothing. I rub my eyes and look again down the empty corridor. “I’ll be back.”
“Row,” she yells after me while I sprint out the door.
I turn in the direction I saw her and run, searching every hallway and crevice I see.
Nothing.
No one.
I saw her. She was here.
The halls are mostly empty, sans a few passengers. One stops and asks if I’m alright. I don’t know how to answer. There’s a possibility I’m losing my mind, seeing things that aren’t there. The sensible part of me understands I haven’t slept in… weeks, maybe?
