Unlucky 13

Chapter 55

As Yuki sat on the Pool Deck with hundreds of other passengers, shivering in her thin nightclothes, and not just from the cold night air, she remembered how right after she had seen the boats through her window, the public-address system had come to life again, this time squealing as if it were in pain.

Then she’d heard the uninflected voice of the captain.

“Dear guests, this is Captain Berlinghoff. As you have noticed, there has been a disturbance, but there is nothing to worry about, I assure you we are getting everything under control. We will be escorting you to public rooms. Please cooperate with your cabin stewards and stay calm. We are safe, absolutely safe. I repeat…”

What kind of disturbance?

The small boats had been closing on the flank of the ship. From her windows, forty feet above the waterline, she hadn’t seen any faces. But then she’d seen guns.

Was the Navy coming to investigate the explosions? A sharp pang of fear had shot through her mind like a bullet. Pirates! Maybe those men were pirates!

But that couldn’t be. There were no pirates in this part of the world. This was the United States.

About then, smoke had begun curling through the air-conditioning vents.

Was the ship on fire? Was it even safe to leave?

Oh, God, what was happening? Where was Brady?

She had looked for her cell phone and finally found it wedged under the night stand, but before she could turn it on, there had been a loud knock at the door.

“Mr. and Mrs. Brady. It’s Lyle.”

Yuki had looked through the peephole and seen their cabin steward, his eyes so round that there was a circle of white all the way around his irises. She’d opened the door.

“Mrs. Brady. You have to go to the Veranda Lounge.”

She had asked, “Have you seen my husband?”

“No ma’am. When did you see him last?”

She’d had a lot to drink last night, and Brady had tucked her in early.

Behind Lyle, people wearing life vests filled the corridor, streaming toward the stairs, their faces wrinkled with sleep and naked with fear.

“What’s happening?” she’d asked. “Is the ship on fire? Are we under attack?”

“I don’t know anything, Mrs. Brady. Put on your life vest,” said Lyle, “and hurry to the Veranda Deck. Take the stairs.”

“No, wait.”

Lyle had snapped at her, “Put on your vest and go upstairs, Mrs. Brady. Go now.”

Yuki had dialed Brady’s number, and when his outgoing message came on, she had left a message of her own.

“I’m going to the Veranda Deck,” she said. “Look for me.”

Panting, her hands shaking uncontrollably, Yuki had found her deck shoes on the floor of the closet. Her life vest was under the bed—and so was Brady’s.

She had put the vest around her and then had taken a last look around the cabin. Opening the drawer of the night stand, she had found her new coral necklace, her wedding gift from Brady. Clutching it, she joined the throng heading for the stairs.