by Mark Fenger
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“No signs of life.” Agatha reported back as Tom read the logbook in the Skipper’s chair on the bridge.
Nikki was working out which controls were still functional in the mass of smashed gauges and controls of the bridge while Willow tried to find the appropriate charts so she could plot their course as the wind swept them away from Milton. They’d all eaten some hardtack from the galley and drank their fill of water, which was enough to keep them going, but Tom’s stomach grumbled for real food.
Tom leaned forward and winced, his chest had a rough bandage across the bite-wound and it hurt like hell. “Signs of death?”
“Lots of blood, and most of the ship is messed up bad, but no bodies. Anything on your end?”
Tom snapped the black-covered logbook shut. “Nothin’… whole lotta questions, very few answers. Seems the old Captain died a week ago, and his logbooks are gone. This one starts with landfall in Labrador. Some mention of a passenger named Ishara, who was some high muckity-muck. It ends with docking in Milton, no mention of the Mist or nothin’…. Oh and it says they were carrying lead bars as cargo. Did you find ‘em on your survey?”
Agatha nodded. “Yep, though why anyone would carry so much lead is beyond me. What?—” She stared gape-mouthed at the open bridge door.
Tom and the others turned to see a beautiful young woman wearing a white dress in the doorway. She had dark olive skin and long, flowing, black hair.
“Who are you? What happened here?” Tom stood and took a step toward the woman, with Agatha close behind, but the woman turned and fled. By the time they reached the door she was gone.
“What the hell! I thought you said there was nobody else aboard?”
Agatha shrugged. “I looked everywhere. She must have a hidin’ spot. I heard smugglers sometimes have secret compartments, maybe….”
“Well let’s search again. I’ll help this time.”
“You sure? You’re still bleedin’.”
Tom looked down. Blood seeped through the bandage and dribbled onto his bare chest, leaving a red trail. “I’ll be fine. Nikki, lock the door behind us. Don’t let anyone else in.”
“Okey doke. You got a secret knock, or how do I know it’s you?”
“I’ll say it’s me, Tom, open the damned door!”
Nikki grinned sheepishly. “Right…. Suppose that’d do.”