destroy innocent vessels. To ravage the NeoPacific, just like
Santa Elena wants.
And if I can’t escape, if I can’t get myself back to shore,
it will all be by my hand. The possibility of failure hits me
like a bullet to the chest, and all of a sudden I can feel it—I
can feel the slug that’ll be put in me if I do anything to
sabotage the captain’s plans. My heart thunders and my jaw
locks tight. If it comes to that, I’ll have to keep going along
with her orders. I’m too scared to do anything else.
I slump to the floor of the trainer deck. Dampness soaks
into my shorts as a small wave breaks against the side ports.
“What’s eating you, shoregirl?” Swift drawls from her
perch.
A twinge of annoyance rattles through me. “Don’t play
that game. You don’t want to know what I’m feeling.”
“I’m bored as shit—I’ll listen to anything.”
I consider. She’s the closest thing I have to a friend on this
boat, even if she does want to gut me most of the time. And
after today, I have to move back in with her. “I’m thinking
about home,” I lie.
“You’re SRCese, huh?”
“Yeah,” I say, crossing my arms. “We’re based just out-
side of New Los Angeles.”
“Never been,” Swift shoots back.
“It’s nice. Good beaches. Of course, it’s empty three quar-
ters of the year. The coast’s lined with summer homes and
hotels, so there’s not much in the way of permanent residents.
But during summer it comes alive.”
