Passenger 327
I grip the railing, sweat beading on my brow. I"ve been here for an hour, waiting and watching, but there’s still no sign of her. I tell myself it’s fate. It’s because she’s too young. Even I have some scruples. Sure, I was probably going to kill her, but really, I just wanted to find out more about this cult. I don’t handle competition very well.
IFifteen minutes pass. A deep-seated anger builds inside me—people these days are so unreliable. Overhead, laughter tinkles like a bell, but it"s not her laughter. As I wait, uneasiness twists in my stomach. Someone is playing games with me.
My gaze flicks to a bottle of vodka tucked between two lifeboats. It’s those teenagers’ doing, no doubt. I step forward, overwhelmed by a strange urge to take a swig. The taste lingers longer
