Chapter 7 - The Lock on the Lowest Deck
The corridor was narrow, lit only by dim, emergency yellow bulbs encased in wire cages along the low ceiling. The rhythmic thump-thump-thump of the auxiliary generator echoed through the iron walls like a dying heart.
At the far end of the hallway stood a massive, tattooed man holding an AK-47 across his chest. He was leaning against a heavy steel door locked with an industrial combination wheel.
He heard my boots hit the wet floorboards and raised his rifle.
"Who the hell—"
I didn't speak. I didn't warn him.
I fired two shots through the soft fabric of my coat before he could pull the trigger. The heavy .45 rounds struck him squarely in the chest plate of his tactical vest, knocking the breath from his lungs and sending him crashing backward against the steel door.
Before he could recover, Vic lunged forward, striking him across the temple with a heavy iron wrench, knocking him cold.
I rushed past his slumping body, my hands slamming against the cold iron of the door.
"Maya!" I shouted, banging my fist against the steel. "Maya! Can you hear me?!"
Silence.
"Boss, the door is secured with a four-digit mechanical lock and a digital magnetic seal," Leo warned, dropping his tool bag onto the floor beside me. "It’s wired directly to the ship's battery bank. If I cut the wrong wire, it locks down permanently."
"How long?" I demanded, my hands shaking as I pressed my ear against the freezing metal.
"Three minutes if I bypass the relay switch," Leo said, pulling out a pair of wire cutters and an optic scope.
Every second felt like an eternity. I could hear the faint sound of water slapping against the outer hull just inches behind us. The ship was rolling gently on the swell, creating a sickening, swaying motion that made my stomach turn.
"Hurry, Leo," I growled.
"Working, Boss... working..." Leo’s fingers were steady, but sweat was dripping from his forehead onto his glasses. Click. Click. Red wire bypass... green wire grounded...
A sharp CLACK-HISS echoed through the narrow hallway as the heavy magnetic solenoids released. The green indicator light on the lock box flashed to life.
"It’s open!" Leo yelled.
I grabbed the heavy iron wheel, spinning it counter-clockwise with all the force in my arms. The rusty steel bolts retracted into the frame with a loud screech.
I pulled the massive door open.
The room inside was small, windowless, and freezing cold. A single bare bulb hung from a frayed cord in the center of the ceiling.
In the far corner, sitting on a small metal cot wrapped in a threadbare grey blanket, was a little girl.
May you like
She had dark, tangled hair that fell over her shoulders. She wore a simple, oversized sweater that was far too big for her thin frame.
And as she slowly raised her head to look toward the open door, two bright, vivid green eyes—my mother's eyes, my eyes—stared back at me through the dim light.
