No Other Duke Will Do
Author: Grace Burrowes
Date: 2017-11-07 00:00:00+00:00
Description: In this "exquisite gem from a master" of Regency Romance, one duke's plan to find a bride makes for a most entertaining house party ( Library Journal ). Julian St. David, Duke of Haverford, is barely keeping his head above water in a sea of inherited debts. Though he has a long-term plan to restore the family finances, his sister has a much faster solution: host a house party for London's single young ladies and find Julian a wealthy bride. Elizabeth Windham has no interest in marriage, but a recent scandal has forced her hand. As much as she'd rather be reading Shakespeare than husband-huntin
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing

EMP SABOTAGE

No Rescue

No Relief

No Escape

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, DECEMBER 2022

Copyright © 2022 Relay Publishing Ltd.

All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Grace Hamilton is a pen name created by Relay Publishing for co-authored Post-Apocalyptic projects. Relay Publishing works with incredible teams of writers and editors to collaboratively create the very best stories for our readers.

www.relaypub.com

BLURB

A rising storm. A sudden catastrophe. No hope of rescue…

A storm looms on the horizon as Ruth Garber and her granddaughter Stella travel by helicopter to an offshore drilling rig. Ruth, a world-class geologist, is there to consult on a software upgrade. Stella, a geology student, just wants to prove herself to her legendary grandmother. They don’t know their trip will become a grim struggle to survive…

When the helicopter goes down after dropping them off, they realize they’re in trouble. The platform loses power. Cell phones don’t work. Everything electronic is dead. Stranded with a skeleton crew on a steel platform miles from shore, battered by massive waves, the deadly truth of their predicament slowly sinks in.

Meanwhile, John and his son Curtis are in a fishing boat, suddenly adrift when the engine fails. The waves are getting higher, and the storm has them on a collision course with the rig.

As the castaways on the rig struggle to survive, they discover the back-up generator has been deliberately damaged. When people begin to disappear, they come to a grim realization.

Someone in their tiny group is a saboteur.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

End of No Rescue

Thank you

Make an Author’s Day

About Grace Hamilton

Sneak Peek: No Relief

Sneak Peek: Endless Storm

Also By Grace Hamilton

Want more?

1

Ruth Garber adjusted her headset for the hundredth time and leaned forward, peering out the nearest window of the chopper to the blue water below. It was a rough ride, and loud as all get-out, but she took such things in stride. It wasn’t her first rodeo, by any means. Her granddaughter, however, had never ridden in a helicopter before, and her anxiety was evident.

Stella was in the seat across from Ruth, and it seemed like she was struggling to hold it together. She kept wringing her hands, biting her lower lip. Her eyebrows were doing a strange little slow dance up and down her forehead, as her gaze shifted constantly from the window on one side to the window on the other.

When Ruth finally made eye contact with her granddaughter, she gave her an encouraging thumbs-up, but Stella only nodded and looked away again.

“Is it always this windy?” Stella asked, shouting into her headset microphone to be heard.

“No, not usually,” Ruth replied. “I think we’re in for a bit of a storm.”

The Sikorsky S-76C was a slick machine, with a bright yellow and black exterior and comfortable padded seats inside. Stella had taken the left side of the back bench, so Ruth had sat across from her in a backward-facing chair. Parker Jamison, an oil platform worker and an old friend of Ruth’s, was seated on the other side of the bench from Stella, with a small table between them. He was tall and well-muscled, with a neatly trimmed black beard and a broad jawline. He was also, at the moment, somehow sleeping soundly through the rough weather.

Just then, a fierce gust of wind rocked the helicopter to one side. Ruth’s stomach lurched, and she grabbed hold of the armrests, clamping down tightly. Her headset had shifted again, but she let it sit awkwardly as she steadied herself. Stella yelped at the sudden swaying of the chopper, and that, in turn, caused Parker to open one eye and look at her.

“Did something happen?” he asked. “We’re not plummeting into the sea, are we?” He didn’t sound especially concerned.

Instead of answering, Stella leaned forward, wrapping her arms over her head, as if bracing for impact. Her headset landed in her lap.

“Stella, honey, we’re okay,” Ruth said. “The helicopter can handle worse than this, and we’ve got a highly qualified company pilot behind the controls.”

But Ruth glanced at Parker as she said it—she didn’t actually know what the chopper could handle—and Parker responded with a one-shoulder shrug, as if to say, Don’t ask me!

Ruth turned in her seat, looking over her shoulder. She had a somewhat limited view of the cockpit through a window behind her seat. She could just make out the shape of the copilot via lights from the instruments, creating a faint nimbus along his shoulder, arm, and the side of his head. Beyond him, sheets of rain lashed against the windshield, obscuring the gray sky beyond.

There really wasn’t much to be said right now to comfort Stella. The weather was relentless and terrible, and they still had quite a way to go. Ruth decided her best bet was to get some kind of conversation going to give her granddaughter something else to focus on. The poor girl was still hunched over, arms wrapped around her head.

Parker was awake now and staring out the window beside him with his arms crossed.

“So, Parker, did you enjoy your shore leave?” Ruth asked, speaking loudly enough to be heard through the headset. “Three whole weeks. What could you possibly have done to fill all of that free time?”

He shrugged again—both shoulders this time—but gave her a big smile. He wasn’t a bad-looking man, really. He had a nice smile that made his eyes scrunch up in a pleasant way. Of course, Ruth had absolutely no designs on the man. She was three decades his senior, and she preferred her gentlemen silver-haired and dignified.

“Three weeks is way too short, to be honest,” Parker replied. “I could’ve used another month. When I’m on the oil platform, I miss being able to get in my truck and just drive places, you know?” He glanced at Stella. “What about you, kid? Can you drive yet?”

Stella frowned and sat up, grabbing her headset. “I’m nineteen,” she said, looking at Parker. “Of course I can drive. I got my license years ago.”

“Well, you never know,” Parker said. “Lots of kids ride bikes and scooters these days. It’s more eco-friendly.”

Stella studied him. “You work on an oil platform,” she said, but her expression had softened. “Do you really want kids to stop using gas-powered vehicles?”

“Oh, heck, no,” Parker replied with a laugh. “I’ve got bills to pay. Burn more fuel, I say!”

Stella was still holding her headset in her hands. Ruth gestured for her to put them back on her head.

“They’re kind of uncomfortable,” Stella said. “Do we have to wear them? I can pretty much read your lips when you talk.”

Ruth nodded. “Protects your hearing. Plus, they enable the pilot to talk to us.”

“Why? So he can say, ‘Brace for impact,’ if we’re going down?” Stella joked.

Ruth hesitated a second before replying, “If it comes to that...yes.”

Wide-eyed, Stella slipped the headset back over her head, settling them on her ears.

“It’s not going to come to that,” Ruth quickly added. “We’re fine. The pilot can handle a bit of rain.”

“I’ve flown this damned route a hundred times,” Parker added, with a dismissive swipe of his hand. “We get storms like this sometimes. This one’s a little worse than usual, but we’ll be fine, kid. Trust me, you’ll be safely stranded on the oil platform and bored out of your mind in no time.”

Stella sighed loudly and nodded. “Okay, I’m fine. It’s fine. No problem.” She nodded again, as if reassuring herself.

“It’s not really that boring,” Parker added, leaning toward her as if he were sharing a secret. “We’ve got a ping-pong table, board games, a DVD player that’s about twenty years old.”

“She’ll be helping me most of the time,” Ruth said. “She won’t be bored. What’s the crew level like right now?”

“Shoestring,” Parker replied. “We’re working with minimal crew since they halted production for the tech upgrade.”

“And how’s the upgrade going?” Ruth asked.

“Too slow,” Parker said. “They made me use some of my shore leave to requisition gear because the supply chain is backed up and deliveries aren’t happening. I didn’t get everything they wanted, but it’ll have to do. It’s a big damn mess right now. Are you really going to be able to speed things up? That’s why they brought you in, isn’t it?”

“Well, sort of,” Ruth replied. “They want my help calibrating the new equipment.”

“I guess it makes sense. When they’re messing with the sea floor, they call the trusty geologist and fly her in from the university.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, it gives us an excuse to work together again.” He gave her an appraising look for a couple seconds, then added, “You’re Clark’s favorite third-party consultant, you know?”

“I hope that’s a compliment,” Ruth said.

Parker laughed. “Depends on what you think about Clark.”

“What do you think about him?” Ruth asked.

“As oil platform bosses go, he’s only a modest pain in the butt. He’s kept the Mako operating in the black, at least, so I guess the C-suite approves of his performance. Mostly, I just try to do my work and stay out of his way.”

Just then, the chopper lurched again as a gust of wind pushed them. Stella tensed, but this time, instead of panicking, she dug into the interior pocket of her jacket and pulled out her cell phone. Stella looked a lot like her mom, Ruth’s daughter had, and even more so when she was nervous. Same blue eyes, sharp cheekbones, notable overbite. Same straight, honey blonde hair. Same mannerisms.

Ruth was tempted to keep her invested in the conversation, but she decided to leave her alone. There were times when the idle distractions of a cell phone were a good and effective tool for ignoring immediate anxieties.

“There’s going to be a huge maintenance backlog when I get there, I’ll bet,” Parker said. “Those people can’t do anything without me.”

An incompetent, bare-bones crew with supply chain problems, Ruth thought.

In truth, she wasn’t just there to calibrate the Mako oil platform’s new sensory equipment. She was also conducting an experiment of her own with her place of employment, Texas A&M. This was the reason why she’d brought her granddaughter, a bright-eyed sophomore at the college.

“This will probably turn out to be your longest stay on the oil platform,” Parker said.

“Yeah, it’s usually just short stays,” she replied. Her hands had begun to ache, so she wrung them gently. Damned arthritis acting up. “This’ll be a record for me.”

Stella sat up suddenly and locked eyes with her. “There’s been another threat,” she said gravely. “It’s right here on the news.”

“Threat?” At first, Ruth thought she was somehow still referring to the weather, but Stella held up the phone and wagged it, with a news app open on the screen. “Oh, that. To be honest, I’m not worried about them. There are always people threatening other people over one damn thing or another.”

Parker laughed at this, but it was a low and grave laugh, mirthless. He leaned back in his seat and buried his chin against his chest. Yes, Ruth was aware that some vague terrorist group had threatened the oil platform and the company that owned it, but she hadn’t looked into it. Her life was consumed by her work.

“These are not just some people,” Stella said, tucking a stray lock of her long hair behind her ear. “They’re complete weirdos, practically a cult. They call themselves ‘AI-Led Society,’ A-I-L-S.”

“And what are their goals?” Ruth asked. “What does the article say?”

“You should know about this, Gran.” Stella replied. “It’s in the news all the time. AILS wants to create a tech-led society where people don’t have to work anymore.”

“Well, to be honest, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Ruth said, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted. “Good luck and Godspeed, I say.” She laughed to show she was mostly joking.

“It’s bad if they have to bring down the current society to achieve their goals,” Stella said. “And that’s what they say they’re going to do. They’ve specifically threatened the oil platforms like the Mako among other targets.”

“Does the article say what they plan to do to the oil platforms?” Ruth asked.

Stella shook her head. “Just vague threats, at this point, but they seemed pretty determined.”

“Yeah, well, a lot of people say they’re going to do a lot of things,” Ruth replied. “This is a fringe group. Don’t let sensationalist news reports get to you.” But even as she said it, Ruth felt a moment of disquiet. Such reports couldn’t be entirely dismissed out of hand, but at the same time, it was extremely unlikely that some small-time cult could get to the rig, much less carry out their threat.

Parker gave Stella a troubled look then. He started to say something, possibly to tell her to stop talking about it. Clearly, he didn’t enjoy chatting about his place of work and residence being attacked by fringe weirdos. After a moment, he shook his head and looked out the window instead. Ruth decided to help him out.

“Let’s not talk about terrorist groups right now, Stella,” she said. “It’ll make us worry about something that’s not an actual threat and probably never will be.”

“I just hope there’s plenty of security in this place,” Stella replied. “That’s all I’m saying.”

“There’s security,” Parker said, and then shrugged and added, “On paper, at least. I suppose the best security is the Gulf of Mexico surrounding us. It’s not like bad guys can just climb on board. We’d have to let them in.”

Just then, there came a sudden hiss of static through the headset. It made Stella lurch in her seat. Even Parker shuddered. Then the captain spoke, sounding remarkably calm, his soothing voice having almost an ASMR effect in Ruth’s ears.

“Hey there, folks,” he said. “Sorry about the rough ride. We’ve had a bit of bad weather this afternoon, but we’re coming up on the Mako oil platform. Estimated arrival time, five minutes. Prepare yourselves for landing. Sit tight.”

Stella smiled for the first time since takeoff. “Finally,” she said. “I can’t wait to get back on solid ground.”

“Almost solid ground,” Parker replied. “Although it’s anchored to the sea floor, the Mako oil platform technically floats on the surface of the ocean. You won’t really feel it, though.”

But Stella was already messing with her phone again and didn’t seem to hear him. Ruth was sympathetic to the girl. At nineteen, she wanted so badly to prove she was an adult, to be strong and responsible.

I wasn’t so different at her age, Ruth thought. She’ll get there.

But Stella lowered her phone suddenly and gave her grandmother a look of frustration. “Are you being serious right now?” she said.

“What is it?” Ruth asked. “What happened?”

Stella held up her phone. “I just lost my phone signal.”

“I told you earlier, dear,” Ruth said. “There’s no cell signal on the oil platform.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t ready for it to cut out just yet,” Stella said. “No cell phone is really going to suck.”

“Never fear, kiddo,” Parker said. “We have a phone if you need to call out, and we have shortwave radio.”

“It’s not the same,” Stella grumbled. “Terrorists. Storms. No contact with the outside world. What are we getting ourselves into?”

2

When the helicopter turned, Stella got a broad view of the oil platform. It was massive; a huge blocky tower of platforms and pipes rising above violent waters, with men and women the size of insects moving about on various levels. The backdrop of unbroken slate gray made it seem even more imposing somehow, and for a few seconds, Stella struggled to catch her breath. She was leaning back in her seat now, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her pale blue ski jacket, and waves of awe washed over her.

Somehow, Gran seemed to take all of this in stride—the weather, the turbulence, the sight of the massive oil platform parked above the churning ocean. Stella was amazed that she’d remained so calm and collected through the entire flight. Even Grans friend, Parker Jamison, seemed anxious now, fidgeting in his seat as the chopper began its descent toward the landing pad.

Nothing fazes her, Stella thought. Gran’s seen it all.

Ruth made an intimidating role model, that was for sure, and now that they were about to land, Stella felt embarrassed that she’d acted so scared throughout the flight. Even so, when the helicopter touched down on the landing pad with a jolt, Stella couldn’t stop herself from gasping, clamping her eyes shut, and bowing her head for a moment.

“It’s raining pretty hard out there,” Ruth said. “The platform will be slick, so be careful when you step outside.”

Stella turned to see a couple of oil platform workers with their yellow vests and hardhats running toward the helicopter’s side door. Parker had already undone his seatbelt, and he was bending down, reaching into the compartment under his seat. He pulled out a small nylon backpack and slung it over his shoulder.

“Another happy landing,” he said with a bright smile. He seemed like a friendly enough guy.

As the door swung open, a blast of cold, wet air blew into the cabin, whipping Stella’s hair into her face. She pulled her hood up before unbuckling her seatbelt. Grabbing her backpack from the space she’d shoved it into beside her seat, she moved toward the door. The workers on the other side were beckoning her frantically, but trying to rush only made her slip on the threshold of the door. She grabbed the doorframe to steady herself, then stepped down onto the landing pad. Wind from the storm and the rotor shoved her hood back and almost pushed her backward, but she felt a hand against her shoulder, holding her steady.

“Watch your step, dear,” Gran said, just behind her. “Don’t fall.”

One of the workers took Stella’s arm and guided her forward. Up close, Stella realized it was a woman, stocky and short, with short black hair, coarse skin, and a round face.

“We have to get you inside right away,” the woman said, shouting over the roar of the rotor overhead. “We’ll get some guys to unload your stuff. Follow me.”

But as soon as Stella stepped away from the door, she became all too aware of how high they were above the water. The landing pad thrust out to one side of the oil platform, and though it had handrails on three sides, they did nothing to obscure the view. She could see the drop, the distant churning water far below, and her stomach seemed to rise right up into the back of her throat as her vision spun. It also gave her a boost of energy that got her moving fast, though the soles of her boots kept slipping on the wet metal floor beneath her.

The rig was like a massive metal city rising up before her. She saw stairs going up and down between the support pillars and pipes running in all directions. Nestled in the midst of all the metal chaos was the exterior wall of a building, with small windows and doors here and there. It was like an office building that had been half-swallowed by the oil platform.

The worker guided her toward a door that was directly ahead of her, and Gran moved up beside her. Parker and another worker brought up the rear. Notably, Ruth was not being guided by anyone. She seemed sure-footed despite the wind and rain. Stella glanced over her shoulder where another worker was unloading a compartment at the back of the helicopter.

After they unload, I guess they’ll fly away and leave us in this place, Stella thought. And for some reason, even though she’d known this was the plan, she felt a moment of disquiet.

As they approached the door, the worker guiding Stella stepped past her and opened it, waving her inside. With the wind and rain chasing her, Stella stepped through the door, stumbled a few steps forward, and caught herself against a wall. The small room stretching out before her had metal walls painted white, with a small, covered drain hole in the middle of the floor, and corridors leading off in two directions. A row of lockers was set against the wall on her left. As Stella took it all in, the others came into the room, and the door finally swung shut, dampening the terrible roar of the storm and the helicopter. Stella brushed her hood back and wiped rain off her cheeks and forehead.

“That was…something,” she said, out of breath. “Just walking across the platform outside is really intense. I wish those handrails were a lot taller.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Parker said, swiping his wet bangs off his forehead, “people rarely get blown over the railing on these things. Rarely. If it happens to you, just tread water for a while, and we’ll send a lifeboat down to get you.”

The short, stocky woman who’d guided Stella into the building took her hard hat off, revealing small brown eyes beneath a heavy brow.

“Don’t even joke about that,” she said, jabbing a finger in Parker’s direction. “It’s not funny. And stop trying to scare our guest.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry, Kay,” Parker said, with an awkward laugh. “I cross the line sometimes. What can I say? I’m just trying to keep things light and breezy.”

He shrugged at her, but she turned to Gran. “Come on, ma’am. It’s good to see you here again. It’s been a while. For the sake of your granddaughter, I’ll give you both a tour of the facilities.” Then she beckoned Stella and started across the room.

Stella fell in beside her grandmother as they crossed the room. Parker and the other oil platform worker didn’t come with them. As they headed out of the room, Stella glanced back to find Parker standing before an open locker, rooting around inside. He had a scowl on his face, utterly without the usual smile. He looked so thoroughly unhappy in that moment that he almost seemed to be a different person. Clearly, getting scolded for his failed joke had wounded him.

Or maybe he really doesn’t like Kay, Stella thought.

Kay led them down a narrow corridor. The walls here were made of the same painted metal, the lighting slightly dimmer than Stella was used to. Down the hall, she heard some clinking and clanking. She recognized the sound before she saw it—silverware and dishes. Indeed, they passed an open doorway, and she saw a cafeteria, with long tables surrounded by folding chairs set in rows. A few workers were currently eating beans and cornbread from plastic trays.

It must be dinner by now, she thought. Or getting close.

But she had absolutely no appetite, not after that rough helicopter ride. Her stomach was still shaken up.

“I’ll get you a cafeteria menu calendar,” Kay said, gesturing toward the doorway. “The food sucks here, though. I would prefer if we had a Subway or a Pizza Hut, but Clark won’t do it. He’s either too cheap, or he doesn’t want to bother contacting the companies.”

“I’ve eaten at a university dining hall,” Ruth replied. “I can handle it.”

“Sbisa Dining Hall’s not bad most of the time,” Stella noted. When Kay gave her a questioning look, she felt compelled to explain, “It’s the place I usually eat when I’m on campus.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Kay said, one eyebrow going up. “You’re an Aggie like your grandma. Good old Texas A&M. My parents were Longhorns all the way. They used to tell Aggie jokes when I was a kid, but I don’t have any collegial prejudices.”

“We have a great geology program,” Ruth said. “One of the best in the state.”

Kay kept going down the hall, leading them around the corner, where another doorway opened up into a wide room with a ping-pong table, some scattered card tables and chairs, and a small television mounted in the corner. Currently, a couple of guys were playing a game of Monopoly, but otherwise, the room was empty.

“This is the rec room,” Kay said, passing through the room, tapping the edge of the table as she went. “That game ends friendships, guys. I recommend Carcassonne instead. It’s in the game closet on the top shelf.”

This caused the guys to chuckle. Then something moved in the near corner, and it startled Stella. At first, she thought it was a person crouched there, but then she realized it was a dog. The chocolate Lab came loping out of the corner, sniffing the air in the general direction of the newcomers.

“You have a dog on board?” Stella said.

“Oh, yeah,” Kay replied. As the dog approached, she petted her on the head. “This is Bestie. We rescued this poor girl off a dinghy that was adrift near the rig. Never did track down her owners. I guess they abandoned ship, went overboard, or pirates got ’em.”

Stella knelt down, and the dog padded up to her like they were old friends, sniffing then licking her hand. She was quiet, with thick fur and big brown eyes.

“She seems really sweet,” Stella said, scratching behind her ear.

“Yeah, she likes most people,” Kay said. “Most, not all. Anyway, yeah, she is really sweet. She mostly hangs out in the rec room, and we just have to remember to take her outside from time to time so she can do her business. Sometimes, she wanders the cafeteria and waits for people to drop crumbs, but Clark doesn’t really want her to do that. Come on.”

Kay beckoned them. As soon as Stella rose, the dog went back to her corner, where she had a pile of blankets to lie on and a small dish of water. Somehow, the presence of a friendly dog made this whole place more cheerful, and Stella gave Bestie a wave goodbye as she followed Kay and Ruth across the room.

Near the far side of the room, she noticed the old DVD player Parker had mentioned, mounted beneath the television, with a couple of stacks of DVDs on a shelf beneath them.

“Are there streaming services?” Stella asked. “I thought maybe you’d have satellite internet or something.”

“I’m afraid not,” Kay said. “We do have internet access through a satellite service, but it’s spotty and not good enough for streaming. People try to FaceTime and stuff, but the calls are always buffering. We could get better service, but the boss doesn’t think we need it.”

Not even satellite TV, she thought, noting the grim selection. That’ll be an adjustment. No cell service was going to be a huge annoyance. How could any reasonable person put up with no cell service?

They passed through a door on the far side of the rec room, turned another corner, and found themselves in a hallway that was lined with doors on either side. Some of the doors were open, and Stella saw beds with simple blue covers, chairs, and small desks.

“These are the living quarters,” Kay said over her shoulder. She stopped in front of one of the open doors. “This is your room. Go ahead and dump what you’ve got inside. Your other gear will be along shortly, once they get the helicopter unloaded.”

Stella stepped into the room. It was twice as small as her dorm room on campus, and it smelled a bit musty. Still, it appeared clean, and they had a small window looking outside. As she dumped her backpack on one of the beds, she leaned toward the window to look outside. She saw a high walkway leading from somewhere in her current building to a second building on the far side of a broad gap. The second building was darker, more imposing.

“Will we be going over that bridge during our tour?” she asked.

“Nope,” Kay replied. “Not until the weather lets up.”

“What’s over there?”

“Well, to put it in layman’s terms, that’s where the drilling happens,” Kay said. “Don’t worry, you’ll get to see it eventually.”

But Stella’s gaze was on that walkway, which was high and narrow, with gaps in the floor. It stretched out over a ten-foot drop to a lower platform. Somehow, she had expected this whole experience to be a bit more enclosed.

She didn’t have long to think about it as she was ushered out of the room, following Kay and Ruth down the hall and around another corner. Finally, they came to a single door at the end of the hall. Kay stopped here and turned to face Ruth and Stella.

“And this is the boss’s office,” she said. “He wanted to meet with you, Ruth, as soon as you arrived. I don’t think he’ll begrudge us a little tour, but here we are. This is where I leave you for now. Good luck with everything. If you need my help, you’ll find me around. Just ask the nearest worker.”

“Thanks,” Ruth replied, as Kay stepped past them and headed back down the hall.

Once she was gone, Stella said, “It seems like kind of cramped quarters for such a big place, doesn’t it?”

“It’s cozy. That’s for sure,” Ruth replied. “There are a lot more places that we didn’t see on our tour. Trust me, we’ll be fine. Just see it for the adventure that it is.” Ruth flashed Stella a smile and then she knocked on the door in front of her.

A voice spoke from the other side. Deep, rough, maybe damaged. “Come in.”

Ruth turned a strange oval doorknob and pushed her way inside. The small office beyond was dimly lit with shelves everywhere, stacks of paper and manuals and notebooks, and numerous framed diplomas and certificates on the walls. A desk was centered against the far wall with unlit scented candles in glass jars positioned on two corners. Clark Ives was seated behind the desk, and his prodigious belly pressed against the desktop. His hair—which was either wet or greasy—was combed straight back from a large, pale forehead.

He started to get up, but Ruth waved a hand at him. “No need to get up,” she said. “Keep your seat. I’m not much for formalities.”

She strode forward and briefly shook his hand, as Stella moved to the back of the office. The room didn’t smell too good, and the source of the bad odor was obvious. The man needed to light the candles, get some better ventilation, or take a long shower.

“Good to see you again, Ruth,” Clark said. “Hopefully, your flight in wasn’t too much of a nightmare. The storm looks pretty bad out there. I thought the pilot might turn around.”

“The flight was fine,” Ruth said. “I’m sure my granddaughter would disagree.” And then she turned to one side and beckoned Stella forward. “This is Stella, my granddaughter. She will be working with me this week. She’s in college, getting her undergraduate degree in geology, and she wanted a bit of hands-on experience.”

Clark reached out, but Stella hesitated. She imagined it would be a very damp and unpleasant experience, but she shook it anyway. Gran would’ve expected it.

“Nice to meet you, Stella,” he said. “Welcome aboard.”

“Thank you, sir,” she replied.

Clark started to say something else, but Ruth spoke over him. “Mr. Ives, if you don’t mind too terribly, I’d like to get started right away.”

“You don’t want to settle in for a while first?” Clark asked. “Maybe take a nap? Have something to eat? They’re serving dinner in the cafeteria for another twenty minutes or so. It’s not half bad.”

“That sort of thing can wait,” Ruth replied. “I’d like to see the most recent ground survey. It’ll help me get a handle on the work I’ll be doing this week.”

“That can be arranged,” Clark replied.

“I’d also like to talk to whoever is responsible for the new tech we’re installing,” she said.

Clark opened a drawer on his desk and pulled out a blue folder that was thick with papers. He dumped it on the desktop and shut the drawer. “There’s all the specs right there. Take a look for yourself. The new sensor system has its own console in the control room. We’ve had to hardwire it into our existing control panel, but it’s not up and running yet.”

Ruth picked up the folder and began flipping through pages, and Stella stepped closer to peer over her shoulder even though she had no idea what she was looking at. This was Gran’s world, a world filled with data modeling, maps, geochemical analyses and she was a college sophomore more intent on getting many of her general ed requirements out of the way. She had a long way to go to reach Gran’s level of expertise, but she was excited to work hard to get there one day.

“It’s going to boost oil production like crazy,” Clark said, leaning back in his padded seat so that the cushions creaked softly. “Geo-mapping hardware that uses natural micro-shifts in the tectonic plates to identify locations for future oil wells. Man, I’ve dreamed of this kind of tech for years. I know the installation process is going to be a nightmare, especially with our limited crew, but it’ll be well worth it in the end. If you can speed up the process, you’ll be worth every penny we paid to get you here and house you for the week.”

“Boosting oil production is fine,” Ruth said, pulling out some kind of diagram and holding it up. “But this same hardware is supposed to help with earthquake predictions, which in turn, is supposed to speed up tsunami warnings. At least, that’s the claim. I’ll find out for sure while I’m here. To be honest, that’s my real interest.”

“Yeah, Bill told me all about that,” Clark replied. “He’s fired up about it.”

“Bill Rigg? That’s your staff geologist, isn’t it?” Ruth replied.

“That’s him.”

“Is he currently on board the Mako?” Ruth asked.

Clark shook his head. Stella could hear his thick neck scraping against his tight shirt collar. “He took leave a few days ago. Hopefully, you don’t need his help, but he left all of the paperwork for you.”

“I’m not surprised he took leave,” Ruth said.

Clark gave her a questioning look. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I know Billy,” Ruth said, shutting the folder and tossing it back onto the desk. “We go way back, actually, long before you were running the show here, and if you’ll indulge a little brutal honesty, he’s not…well, how do I say it tactfully? His science is lacking. I’ve learned to take his claims with a grain of salt. He knows how I feel.”

Clark seemed taken aback by this, eyebrows climbing his forehead. Stella stilled. Suddenly, the air in the room felt thick with tension.

“Well…alrighty then,” Clark said, after a moment. “We pay that guy a decent salary. I trust his opinion.”

“I’ve seen a lot of tech products promising to predict the future,” Ruth said. “It’s usually a lot of hot air, so I hope that’s not the case this time.”

Clark blanched at this, cleared his throat, and seemed at a loss for words. Finally, he sniffed and said, “I guess I’ll let you work that out, but…I sure hope we’re not wasting our time here. This was a big investment.”

“Oh, it’ll boost oil production,” Ruth said. “No question about that. My hope is it’ll be more useful than that.”

Clark unleashed a huge sigh. “Well, that’s all I want to hear, really. I’ll leave the tsunamis and earthquakes to people like you.” He patted his chest with one hand. “You had me thinking I’d bought a bum system. Don’t scare me like that, ma’am. Don’t you know I’ve got angina?”

And then, as if to punctuate his declaration, there came an almighty boom, and the whole room shook.

3

The clang of metal against metal seemed to move through walls and up through the floor. Stella felt it against her back, and she lurched forward. As she did, Ruth swung around to face the door, and Clark pushed his chair back and half-rose, hands gripping the edge of his desktop.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Sounds like something hit the building,” Ruth said, rushing to the door. “Something big.”

“How is that possible?” Stella said. “How could something hit the building? We’re, like, thirty or forty feet above the water.”

Ruth stepped back into the hall, and Stella hurried after her. Clark followed them as well, but he redirected them to a door that led to another hallway. And this, in turn, joined back up with the first room they’d entered upon their arrival. It seemed they’d walked the entire perimeter of the building.

Stella heard shouting coming from outside, and she was pretty sure one of the voices was Parker. When Ruth opened the door to the outside, rain-damp wind blew into the room. She leaned into it and grabbed the doorframe, even as Stella came up behind her.

“What are they doing out there?” Clark grumbled, pushing past Stella to get to the door. “What is all of this noise?”

It took Stella a moment to understand what was happening outside. Parker and another worker were standing on either side of a large pallet, and they appeared to be shouting at each other. The pallet was a big stack of containers wrapped in some kind of nylon mesh, and it was huge. Both of the men were grabbing and pulling at it, but it seemed the pallet had apparently rolled into some kind of large metal arm near the railing at the edge of the platform.

Ruth pulled the hood of her coat up and stepped outside, and Clark pushed past Stella to follow her. Stella pulled up her own hood, pressed it against the side of her head, and followed them onto the windy platform. The storm had gotten worse. The wind was blowing in practically sideways now, carrying a stinging cold rain with it. The helicopter was still sitting on the landing pad, rotors idling, as if it were waiting for clearance to take off.

“What’s going on out here?” Clark shouted, but the wind and rain pushed him to one side, and he fell against one of the platform’s enormous vertical support beams. “What are you guys doing?”

Parker turned and glared in their direction, giving Clark a brief look of disgust. “What does it look like we’re doing? The line broke as the chopper was lowering this crap, and it rolled into the arm of the lifeboat lift here!”

Stella turned her gaze to the big metal arm that curved over the handrail and hung down to a lower level. As she stepped closer to the handrail, she saw a couple of large, covered lifeboats attached to the side of the arm. Wind had shoved the large pallet against the arm, and one of its small wheels was hooked over the edge of the platform. Parker and the other worker were pulling for all they were worth, and while the pallet rocked a bit, it wouldn’t pull loose.

“The pilot needs to get that chopper out of here,” Clark shouted. “Why is he just parked there with his rotors going? What’s he waiting for?”

“I’m sure he wants to make sure we’re okay,” Parker replied. “Why don’t you get over here and help us, boss? Take a running start at the pallet and throw your weight against it.”

But Clark had both arms wrapped around the steel beam, holding himself in place. Despite the fact that he was a supervisor on the oil platform, he seemed unsteady on his feet in the bad weather. Ruth turned and flicked a finger at Stella.

“We’re going out there to help them,” she said. “Watch your step. Keep your balance.”

Ruth didn’t wait to see if her granddaughter would respond but immediately set out across the platform. Stella felt a tingling fear at the thought of getting that close to the drop in this wind, but she wouldn’t refuse. If anything could make her act during this storm, it was her fierce desire not to disappoint the woman she looked up to more than anyone in the world.

Bent over, taking careful steps, Stella moved away from the door, following her grandmother. The sideways rain worked its way under Stella’s hood, soaking her hair, coating her face, getting in her eyes and ears, seeping down into her shirt. Water got into her boots, soaking through her jeans.

“Just dislodge the thing already and get it inside. Get it inside,” Clark yelled, still hugging the beam. He hadn’t budged. “We can’t be out here in this weather, guys!”

“Not helpful, boss,” Parker replied. “We’re working on it.”

Ruth reached the pallet and grabbed the mesh covering with both hands. Stella was moving a bit slower, her boots slipping on the wet mesh floor beneath her. The vast drop seemed to consume the world before her, an expanse of distant ocean water spreading out to the end of the world on three sides. It was truly breathtaking. She came up beside her grandmother, pressing herself against the pallet. It seemed to be comprised of plastic and metal boxes all stacked in such a way that they created a large cube.

“Thanks for the help, ladies,” Parker said. “We just need a bit more strength to pull it away from the edge here. The addition of you two might be enough.”

Up close, Stella saw that a corner of the pallet had dented deeply against a sharp edge of the lifeboat lift arm. It looked like both the pallet and the lift arm had taken damage.

“On the count of three, we all pull in the same direction: toward the building,” Parker said. “Ready? One, two, three. Now!”

Ruth leaned back, pulling at the sturdy nylon covering. Parker grabbed and leaned to one side, moving in the same direction, as did the other worker. Stella copied Ruth, pulling at the nylon mesh. She’d never been so wet in her whole life, and as she leaned back to tug at the pallet, she got rain in her open mouth and in her nostrils.

“Keep pulling,” Parker cried. “We almost got it, folks!”

Stella felt the pallet shifting, heard metal creak as it pulled away from the lifeboat lift arm. And then the wheel popped back onto the platform, and it began to roll. Stella had to let go and stumble quickly to one side to avoid being run over. As the pallet moved past her, she stepped around to the back and began pushing it toward the building. Ruth joined her, Parker and the other man still working at the corners.

“That’s it,” Clark cried from the safety of the steel beam. “You got it! Now, shove it through the door and let’s get out of this rain. Good job!”

The pallet just barely fit through the doorway, but the momentum kept it going over the threshold and into the room beyond. It finally came to a stop halfway across the small entry room, a puddle of water quickly forming beneath it as rain poured off the sides. Parker breathed a big sigh of relief and stepped back, dragging his fingers through his hair and swiping water off his beard.

“That wind is a beast,” he said. Then he snapped his fingers and pointed at the other oil platform worker. “Hey, Jorge, would you go out there and check on the lifeboat lift? Make sure we didn’t break the thing.”

The worker dashed back out into the rain without comment, pushing past Clark in the doorway. To Stella’s surprise, Ruth went with him. Even though she was absolutely soaked, she stepped back into the brutal rain. Stella followed after, determined to prove she could keep up with her grandmother. And, at this point, the rain had so thoroughly saturated her clothing that it really couldn’t get worse. However, as soon as she went back through the door, a fierce gust of wind caught her off guard and pushed her into Clark’s favorite steel beam.

By the time Stella pushed off the beam and joined them, Ruth and the worker were already inspecting the big U-shaped metal arm. Ruth even leaned over the handrail to look down below, a sight that made Stella’s stomach lurch.

“Be careful, Gran.” Stella was practically duck-walking at this point, and she reached out to steady herself against the lifeboat lift arm.

“It’s fine,” Ruth replied with a quick smile. “I’m holding on tightly.”

Stella could see where the impact of the pallet had dented the lifeboat lift arm, and it seemed to have pushed it off center and crushed it against the side of the platform. She could hear metal scraping against metal below.

“It’s bad,” the other worker—Jorge, apparently—said. “Parker let the pallet get away from him, and it hit the lifeboat lift hard. I don’t think we can fix it.”

“No, it’s something we can repair,” Ruth said, shouting into the wind. “I’ll go get my toolbox. It should be with our other stuff, assuming they unloaded the helicopter.”

“Now?” Jorge replied, eyes wide. “You’re going to fix it now?”

“We can’t leave the boats hanging down there like that,” Ruth said, pushing off the handrail. “It’ll put strain on the lift, and it could break eventually. I’d rather not lose the lifeboats.”

“Gran, are you sure you want to work out here in this storm?” Stella asked.

“We’re fixing it now,” Ruth replied, heading back. “And you’re going to help me. As long as we’re careful, we have nothing to worry about. Just think of it as an adventure!”

Stella was tempted to protest, but wasn’t this why she’d come in the first place? She’d wanted to help Ruth, learn from her, and get some experience. As she headed back to the door, she saw Clark frantically waving at them. He had what appeared to be a small two-way radio in one hand.

“The pilot,” he shouted. “That was the pilot.”

Stella didn’t know if he was going to move out of her way or not, and the broad man filled the doorway. However, he stepped back at the last second and let them all inside. The floor of the entry room was a puddle from wall to wall, but it seemed to be pouring into the drain hole near the center.

“Ruth, the pilot said the weather’s only going to get worse,” Clark said. “He just got a report. It’s shifting. Anyone who wants to get off the rig needs to go now. He’s willing to wait a few minutes on the landing pad if you want to load up and go.”

Parker spoke before Ruth could answer. “What are we dealing with here, boss? Is it a hurricane?”

“Tropical storm, at least,” Clark said. He pushed the door shut behind Ruth and leaned against it. “Ruth, what do you say? Do you want to ride back and maybe reschedule this job?”

Stella glanced at her grandmother and met her gaze for a moment. Surprisingly, she saw concern in Ruth’s eyes. The unflappable woman was flapped.

“What do you say, ma’am?” Clark said. “The pilot needs an answer right away. He has to leave.”

Ruth swiped water from her face and flicked her fingers. Then she sniffed and pushed her gray hair back from her forehead. “No, no, no,” she said softly. Then louder, she added, “We’ll be perfectly safe here. More so than in the helicopter, anyway. Besides, I don’t want to waste any more time. We’ve got work to do. The platform can handle a tropical storm. We’re fine.”

Clark stared at her hard for a couple of seconds, then nodded. “Okay, then.” He pressed the talk button on the two-way and said, “We’re good here, Johnson. No need to wait. You can leave as soon as you’re ready.”

After a second, the two-way barked and the pilot responded, “Ten-four. Stay safe. We’ll be back in a week.”

“Sounds good.” Clark hooked the two-way to his belt.

For the next couple of seconds, everyone just stood there, water dripping from each of them. Clark was leaning against the door. Parker was standing beside the pallet, one hand resting against the corner.

“Well,” Ruth said finally, swiping more water off her sleeves one at a time. “No sense standing around doing nothing. I’d better see to those repairs. We don’t want to lose the lifeboats, especially now that the helicopter’s gone.”

4

They’d dumped her trusty toolbox in a storage room along with their luggage, and it seemed to have survived the journey intact. Of course, Ruth’s old red toolbox probably could have survived a nuclear blast. It was a hefty piece of metal. She lugged it back to the main room.

Parker was examining the damage to the pallet. Clark was gone, possibly back to his office, but Stella just stood near the wall, looking uncomfortable. The storm had really put a damper on their arrival, and Stella seemed a bit anxious.

Hopefully, it doesn’t last, Ruth thought. Once things settle down a bit, I’m sure she’ll be excited to get to work with me. I know I’m excited to work with her.

“You don’t have to help me,” Ruth said to Stella. “You could go to the rec room if you want,” she suggested, but Stella didn’t move. “Watch a movie or something. Play solitaire. I’ll find you when I get done with the repairs.”

“I’d rather help here,” Stella said. “But are you sure you want to go back out there right now, in this?”

“I am.”

The other oil platform worker fell in beside Ruth as she went to the door. The lapel on his vest identified him as Jorge Vargas. He was lean, wiry, with a pleasant face but weary eyes. He followed her outside without comment or complaint, though he didn’t seem to speak much as a rule. When she stepped outside, she saw the helicopter just starting to take off, rising slowly against the sharp wind.

“If there’s major structural damage, we won’t be able to fix the lift,” Jorge said, moving past her to kneel beside the lift arm. “We can’t run any heavy machinery in this rain.”

“Well, let’s take a look at the motor at least,” Ruth said. She pointed at the underside of the lift arm, where damage had broken open a box that contained some wiring that she thought might connect to the motor. “We’ll worry about the structural repairs when the rain lets up.” She set the toolbox between them and pulled out a wrench, handing it to Jorge. “Maybe you can tighten the bolts on the base there while I try to repair the cover to keep the rain out.”

“Not sure I have the strength for that,” Jorge replied, taking the wrench from her. “Those bolts are pretty corroded.”

“Stella can help you. And just do what you can,” she replied. She grabbed a second smaller wrench from the toolbox, then flipped the lid shut.

The cold rain was lashing at her back, the chill sinking through every layer from her coat to her thermal underwear. It was getting late, and the quality of light seeping through the heavy cloud cover was changing, making it harder to see. Fortunately, there was a light mounted under a crossbeam behind them that shone near the lifeboat lift. Ruth worked her wrench into a wide crack on the wiring cover and began slowly pulling it back in place.

And then the light went out, as if someone had flipped a switch. A series of rumblings, pops, and snaps seemed to pass through the oil platform, and when Ruth looked over her shoulder, she realized all of the exterior lights were dark. At first, she had the wild idea that maybe she’d touched an exposed wire with the tip of the wrench and caused a short. That, of course, was extremely unlikely.

Jorge and Stella kept working for a couple of seconds. He had the wrench clamped to a large bolt at the base of the lift arm, and she was trying to turn it. Finally, Jorge muttered something angrily under his breath, possibly in Spanish, and the two of them stopped. Only then did he notice the lights, and he looked up.

“We need that light to work,” he said. “Who turned it off?”

“I think we just lost power,” Ruth replied, scanning the buildings. Every window was dark.

“How did that happen?” Stella asked. “Is it because of the storm?”

“Not sure,” Ruth said. “This rig uses diesel-powered generators, and as far as I know, they’re built to withstand pretty extreme weather.”

“Maybe they ran out of fuel,” Jorge suggested. “Maybe someone flipped a switch they weren’t supposed to. We got some idiots working on this platform. It’s not unthinkable.”

And then another sound drew Ruth’s attention away from the oil platform. The helicopter had just taken off, slowly making its way back toward shore, but the sound of the rotors changed. Winding down. She spotted the chopper in the sky to the north. Indeed, the rotors were moving so slowly that she could see them spinning down.

“Oh…” The small sound from Stella seemed to encapsulate Ruth’s own feelings at what she was seeing.

“My God, I think the helicopter is crashing,” she said. “Did they lose power too?”

The chopper was cutting an arc down toward the ocean. Though it was probably fifty yards away, she thought she heard a shrill cry from the pilot—or maybe she imagined it in her horror. Jorge had turned to watch its descent, and he quickly crossed himself: forehead, heart, left shoulder, right shoulder. Ruth reached out and grabbed Stella’s hand. Her granddaughter squeezed it tightly. The helicopter slammed into the water with a burst of smoke, and a wave swept over and seemed to consume it.

“Oh my God, Gran…” Stella was slack-jawed as she stared at the spot where the helicopter had vanished.

“How did this happen?” Jorge said in a horrified whisper. “It’s like he shut off the engine and flew it into the sea.”

Other than some lingering smoke, the chopper was gone. As she stared in shock, Ruth heard footsteps on the platform behind her, Clark yelling into his two-way radio.

“Come in! Come in! Say something!” he shouted. He came up beside Ruth, forgetting all about his favorite steel beam, and practically barreled into the handrail, as if he intended to dive into the ocean and swim out to the wreckage. Ruth grabbed the back of his coat, and he rounded on her. “Ruth, did you see what happened? Were we struck by lightning? Did lightning hit the helicopter?”

“Everything just shut off all of a sudden,” Ruth replied. “There was no lightning.”

“God help us,” Jorge muttered.

“We should try to call for help,” Ruth said.

“I can’t get anyone on the radio,” Clark said. “I’d use the radio in the control room, but we need power for that.”

“What about backup generators?”

“Sure, we can shift to the backups from the control room,” Clark replied.

He turned, slipping and sliding, and headed back to the building. Ruth beckoned Jorge and Stella and went after him. Parker was staring from the doorway. He backed away to let the others enter. The room was dark now, and it got even darker when Jorge came in last and pulled the door shut.

“What happened to the helicopter?” Parker was wide-eyed.

Instead of answering—since she didn’t really have any answers—Ruth only shook her head and beckoned for Stella to follow as she followed Clark and the oil workers down the hall. Clark tried the two-way a couple more times, but he got no response. Finally, he shoved the radio into his jacket pocket and stopped in front of a door just down from the cafeteria. By now, they were far enough from windows that it was getting too dark to see. Fortunately, Ruth was lugging her toolbox, so she set it down in the hall. Opening a bottom compartment, she produced a small flashlight with a rubberized handle. She clicked it on and shone it into the next room.

The light revealed a wall lined with control panels and video screens—all of them dark. There were padded chairs scattered about, some desks, but the whole room was gloomy, and none of the electronics were on.

“All right, this is crazy,” Clark said from the doorway. “There’s no way the wind knocked out our generators. I don’t believe it.”

“What about the backups?” Ruth asked. “We really need to get a radio working so we can call for help. The pilot and copilot might have survived that crash.”

“Doubt it,” Jorge replied. “He went straight down into the water like a missile.”

“Still, we have to be sure,” Ruth said.

Clark and Parker both went to the control panel. Clark picked up a wired handset, while Parker began pressing buttons. Ruth held the flashlight steady so they could see what they were doing. Finally, Clark dropped the handset and joined Parker in pressing buttons, but with ever-increasing intensity. By the end, he was punching the control panel.

“It’s no use, boss,” Parker said, stepping back. “Hitting it won’t make it work.” When Clark tried to take a swing at a computer screen, Parker swept his arm aside and shook his head. “Nah, you’ll just break yourself that way. Come on. Take it easy.”

“The backup generator’s not working either,” Clark said. “This is unprecedented. I can’t make sense of it. What moron broke my generators?”

“It’s not just the oil platform’s generators,” Ruth said, speaking it out loud as the pieces began to come together in her mind. “Something shut down the helicopter too. The engine just switched off and sent it plummeting. Happened at the same time that the lights went off.”

Clark immediately swung around to stare at her with wide eyes. Parker turned more slowly, eyes narrowed, as if he were wrestling with this realization. For a few seconds, they just stood in the flashlight beam.

“Gran,” Stella said from the hallway. “You said the pilot and copilot might’ve survived. Could they be in the water right now? Swimming back to the platform, or clinging to debris?”

“I don’t think they made it,” Jorge said. “It hit hard. You saw it.”

Ruth turned the flashlight beam back down the hall, casting long shadows from Stella and Jorge toward the entry room. Gray light came through a small window on the door, reflecting in a giant puddle which was still slowly draining into the floor. She didn’t think the pilot and copilot made it. Jorge was probably right about that. Still, she’d heard of people surviving such accidents before, and it would be unconscionable not to at least make sure.

“Yeah, we’d better make sure they’re not out there treading water somehow,” she said, marching back down the hall. “We can’t call for help, so if they’ve survived, we’ll have to do something about it ourselves.”

“The sea is rough right now,” Jorge said. “You can’t just swim out there and get them.”

By the time Ruth reached the entry room, everyone had gathered in behind her. Clark was cursing under his breath, and his face had turned bright red. This was not a great situation for a man with angina. Stella was gnawing furiously at her lower lip. Parker and Jorge brought up the rear, the former shaking his head, the latter frowning. Far beyond them, other workers were peeking out of the cafeteria now, shadowy shapes clearly confused by the circumstances. Ruth thought one of them might have been Kay based on her shape. Bestie, the chocolate Lab, was resting her head on the woman’s lap, and Kay was scratching her ears.

“But what can we do for the pilot and copilot?” Stella asked. “If we can’t call for help, how can we get to them?”

Instead of answering, Ruth pulled her hood back up and opened the door. She stepped into the rain, which hadn’t let up even slightly, and crossed the platform to the lifeboat lift. Gazing out across the choppy water, she could still see a haze of smoke lingering above the spot where the chopper had crashed. She could also see some slight irregularity out there that might have been debris, people, or oil stains.

“We might be able to get to them,” she said.

Parker came up beside her, leaning against the handrail. “You’re not thinking about taking a lifeboat out in this, are you?”

“I am,” she replied, gazing up at the large U-shaped lift arm. It was mounted on the platform but had a massive hinge that normally allowed it to be moved out over the edge or brought up onto the platform. The motor, she assumed, was beneath the platform, and the lifeboats were raised and lowered by ropes. Ruth pointed to the control panel box. “Do you suppose if we disengaged the lift motor we could move this thing manually?”

Parker held up his hands. “It’s crunched against the platform and handrail, so I don’t know, but if that’s really what you want to do.” He walked over to the control box, as Ruth considered the lifeboats. Two of them were mounted on hooks at the end of the lift arm. They were currently dangling beneath the platform, but there was no way to get in them without raising the lift.

“Okay, look, if you want to go out there on a lifeboat,” Jorge said, standing beside her at the handrail, “I’ll go with you.”

“You told me you don’t think the pilot and copilot survived,” Ruth replied.

Jorge nodded, gazing out across the water. “That’s true, but you’ll need help steering the lifeboat. I’m not letting you risk your life. I’ll go with you.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Parker opened a panel on the back of the control box and rooted around inside for a minute. As he did that, Ruth was forced to grab the handrail and brace against a gust of wind. Stella almost lost her balance, and she reached out and snagged Ruth’s arm.

“It’s no good,” Parker said, after a moment. “This thing is as dead as a strangled goose. Even if we disconnected the motor, it looks like the hinge got damaged. I don’t think we can move it without repairing the whole thing, and that’s going to take some big tools and a lot of work.” He slammed the control box shut and gave Ruth an apologetic shrug along with his trademark half-smile. “Sorry, Ruth, I’m not sure there’s anything we can do here.”

“Well, thanks for trying, anyway,” Ruth replied. She stared at those tiny distant shapes on the water. Debris, she thought now. Pieces of the helicopter, and there were fewer of them. They were sinking. She felt a moment of despair as she headed back inside.

They found Clark waiting for them in the entry hall, watching from the doorway.

“So…now what?” Clark said as Ruth slipped past him. “There’s no power on the rig at all. Nothing works. We can’t call out. Can’t help the helicopter pilots. Can’t do anything. We’re just stuck here. Is that about the size of it?”

“So it would seem, boss,” Parker replied, following Ruth inside. “Maybe when this storm passes, we can get the power back up again. Until then, I think we just have to sit tight.”

Clark rounded on him and thrust a fat finger in his face. “I will not accept that, Parker Jamison. Get to my office, all of you. We’re not just going to stand around and wait. We’re going to figure this out, by God.”

Parker tipped him a weird little salute and headed to the door, Jorge trotting after him. But Ruth was putting pieces together in her mind, and the situation seemed worse. This wasn’t a system failure. The oil platform had shut down and so had the helicopter. This was something bigger. And now she was stuck on this platform with a skeleton crew and no way to call for help.

And I just happened to bring my poor granddaughter with me on this trip.

She looked at Stella. Ruth tried to give her a reassuring nod and smile, but she couldn’t quite make it work.

5

“I don’t care if we have to do some crazy acrobatic crap,” Clark said, leaning forward in his office chair to rest his forearms on his desk. “We have to get to those lifeboats. They’re our only way off this rig, and someone may have to row ashore to get help.”

As it turned out, Clark had a rather impressive stash of scented candles. It seemed to be an interest of his, if not an obsession. A bunch of those candles were lit now, providing a warmer light than the flashlight. It certainly made the room smell better. The small office was jam-packed. Parker and Jorge were standing near the door, Ruth sitting in the small folding chair. Kay was standing near some shelves, nearest the candles, Bestie leaning against her leg, and Stella was squeezed against the back wall.

“I might be able to tie some ropes around the lifeboats and pull them up onto the platform,” Parker said, “but it won’t be easy. I’ll probably have to shimmy down the lift arm to do it.”

“Is that really a priority?” Kay asked. “It’s not like we’re going to use the lifeboats any time soon. We have food and water on the rig and shelter from the storm. We can wait out the bad weather, even if it lasts another day or two.”

“Ruth, what do you say?” Clark asked. “You’re the expert here.”

“I’m a geologist,” she reminded him.

“Okay, so what does a geologist have to say about the prioritization of lifeboats?” he asked. Clark was leaning so far forward that his face was practically buried against the desktop. “Do you agree it’s worth the risk?”

Ruth considered both positions. She really wasn’t concerned about the lifeboats. She was far more worried about the death of all machinery and electronics in the area. Only a few things could cause unconnected electronic systems to stop working. The subject hadn’t been broached yet, but they would have to talk about it sooner or later.

“I’d hate to ask Parker to climb down the lift arm,” she said. “What if he fell? How would we fish him out of the water?”

“I can do it safely,” Parker replied, waving off her concern. “I’ll use some rope to create a harness. It’s really not a big deal. I’ll get some additional ropes around the lifeboat so we can pull it onto the platform.”

“Well, as long as we can make it as safe as possible, it’s probably good to have access to at least one of the lifeboats,” Ruth said. “Just in case someone has to go for help, like you said. But we shouldn’t be doing this in the dark.”

“I may need to send a bunch of the workers home,” Clark said. “If we can’t get the power back up. Maybe they can contact the company and get someone out here to help us.”

Parker saluted. “In that case, I’ll start working on the harness so we’re ready to get it done first thing in the morning. Jorge, my friend, would you like to join me? I could use an extra pair of hands.”

Jorge shrugged. “Sure. What else am I going to do?”

Clark flicked his hands at them, and Parker and Jorge promptly left the office. Once they were gone, Clark looked at those still in his office, moving from face to face and finally settling on Ruth.

“I don’t know what else we should be doing here,” he said. “What do you suggest, ma’am?”

“We should try to figure out why the power went out,” Ruth said. “I’d like to look at a few things. Can you take me to the generators?”

Clark planted the palms of both hands against the desktop and hoisted himself up with a huff. “Very well. If that’s what you want. Your kid can come with us, but we’ll need to wear hard hats when we’re down in the work area. Kay, why don’t you just mingle with the rest of the crew and keep everyone calm?”

“They’re all calm,” Kay said, patting Bestie. “Nobody’s panicking. They’re just annoyed because it’s so dark in this building. Not enough windows.”

“Well…take some candles and flashlights to the rec room,” he said, spinning a hand over his head. “Get a card game going or something. I don’t know.”

“Card game,” Kay grumbled.

“Yeah, you know, Old Maid, Go Fish, Texas Hold’em, whatever,” he said. “Just keep the mood light.”

“Whatever you say, Clark.” And with that, Kay left the room.

Once she was gone, Clark rose and motioned to Ruth and Stella. “Okay, come on. Down into the guts.”

* * *

Hard hats firmly in place, Ruth, Clark, and Stella headed down into the belly of the oil platform. They found a stairwell and descended into dark, metal spaces, Ruth lighting their path with her flashlight. Every room and corridor was so quiet, she found it disconcerting.

“This is a big mess,” Clark said. “If some idiot on my crew caused this power loss, I’ll toss him overboard, I swear.”

“I doubt your crew did this,” Ruth said.

“Maybe my lack of crew, then,” he said, as they stepped through a door into a gray room with many pipes. “I blame the company for that. We’ve got forty people on board at the moment, half of what I need to be fully operational.”

“What’s the reason for the small staff?” Ruth asked.

“Company called them nonessential,” Clark replied. “Said we won’t need such a big crew with the new tech up and running.”

“I’m not sure they entirely understand the purpose of the new tech,” Ruth said. “You’ll still need workers to run the drill.”

“This company’s run by idiots,” Clark said.

Eventually, their winding path brought them to a large room that contained the massive diesel generators that powered the oil platform. They were encased within massive metal boxes that were all resting on concrete platforms. It was dead quiet in the room. As still as a grave. Ruth ran her flashlight along the nearest generator box until she spotted some controls and gauges in one corner.

She approached, searching the gauges until she found what she was looking for. Fixing the light on it, she leaned in close until she could see the position of the needle.

“What is it?” Clark asked from just behind her. “Do you see any sign of damage? Did something blow up?”

“Fuel gauge,” she replied, tapping the glass cover to make sure the needle wasn’t stuck somehow. “The tank is more than half-full. You have plenty of fuel left.”

He leaned over her shoulder and stared at the gauge, then grumbled under his breath. “Well, we wouldn’t be out of fuel anyway. We keep pretty decent records on these things.”

Ruth studied the front of the generator’s container box until she spotted a small, recessed handle. Reaching in, she pulled it, popping open a large hatch that gave access to the generator itself. It was a massive machine, clearly designed to create quite a bit of power. Stella looked over her shoulder.

Suddenly, Stella gasped. “Gran, look there,” she said. “Do you see what I see?”

She pointed at something at the top of the motor. Ruth shifted the flashlight beam to where she was pointing. The light revealed fat insulated cables snaking out. The metal around the spot where the cable entered the generator was burned black, as if there had been some kind of fire. Yet it couldn’t have been a fire. The burned area was too small, too localized. The fire had burned hot but only for a short amount of time by the look of it.

“What am I looking at here?” Clark asked. “Is the generator fried?”

“Seems like the wires there shorted out,” Ruth replied.

“What could have caused that?”

“Something strong. A power surge, maybe.”

Feeling a deep disquiet, Ruth turned to face Clark and Stella. Her feelings were mirrored in their expressions.

“Are they all like this, then?” Clark asked, crossing his thick arms above his belly. “They must be. If there’s no power and no backup power, then all the generators must be burned out.”

“It’s a safe bet,” Ruth said, “but we should probably check to make sure.”

“I don’t get it,” Clark said, shaking his head. “What is going on here? Someone on my crew must’ve really screwed up bad. How did we get a power surge?”

“It’s possible your crew had nothing to do with this,” Ruth said, shutting the hatch. “Stella, do me a favor. Check the weather app on your phone. See if there have been any unusual weather reports lately.”

“I couldn’t get a signal,” Stella said.

“Just try anyway, please.”

Stella fished inside her jacket for a moment. “Well, I mean, we have this crazy rainstorm going on,” she said. “Does that count?”

“Rain wouldn’t cause this,” Ruth said. “Maybe solar activity. Just let me know what you see.”

Stella finally got her phone out and tapped the screen to unlock it. Frowning, she tapped it again. And a third time. Then she held the phone toward Ruth. The screen was still dark.

“It won’t turn on,” she said. “There’s no way the battery is dead. It had more than half a charge the last time I checked, and that was right before we landed.”

Ruth merely nodded and continued to the next generator. She popped open the hatch and shone the flashlight inside. Again, she found what appeared to be scorch marks where the electrical cables exited the metal cowling around the motor. Clark dabbed sweat off his cheeks with his sleeve.

“My phone is dead somehow,” Stella said, lowering the cell phone and giving Ruth a confused look. “It’s not possible. There was plenty of battery left. Something really bad is going on here. We should get off this oil platform, shouldn’t we?”

Ruth considered the question for a moment and shook her head. “We’re not leaving the rig in this state. My father always told me that any problem can be solved if you rise to the occasion. I’ve never shied away from a challenge.” She nodded at Clark. “We’re going to figure out what caused this, and then we’re going to try to fix it. And, anyway, the rig is actually a good place to be. We’ve got food and water to last for a few weeks at least. For an extended power outage? The rig will keep us safe.”

Clark held up his hands in a fruitless gesture. He looked like he was about to say something, but in the end, he just bowed his head.

“That’s it, then,” Ruth said. “Let’s head back up and tell the others what we found down here. In the morning, if the power is still off, maybe we can put our heads together and track down the cause.”

Anyway, she thought, but did not say, it’s unclear how we would abandon this place if we wanted to, not unless Parker frees that lifeboat.

6

In the morning, the power still wasn’t back on. Ruth took Stella and they investigated some additional rooms to check on other equipment. They found more evidence of fried circuitry, from scorch marks on the circuit board of a computer terminal to a wall-mounted telephone that had the tiniest black mark where the cord plugged into the socket.

They found Clark in a hallway and he seemed relieved to see them, though still anxious about the lack of power. “We’ve got a bit of a problem.”

“Another one?” Stella raised her eyebrows and looked over at Ruth.

“Unfortunately. The pressure from the drill is rising. I’m not sure why.”

“Okay, and what does that mean?” Ruth asked.

“Well, if we can’t get it to stabilize, or to go down, which would be even better, we risk the platform itself being damaged by the drill. Not to mention ecological impacts.”

“You mean like an oil spill?” Stella asked.

“Perhaps. Though, honestly, we should be more worried about the damage to the platform right now, since we’re stuck on it.”

“How much time would we have before something like that happens?” Ruth asked him.

“If the pressure keeps rising at the same rate? I’d say around two days. Maybe a bit more. Maybe a bit less.” Clark rubbed his hands on his pants as if he were trying to wipe away what he’d just said.

Ruth frowned. “All right. Well, I don’t know anything about the drill pressure so we’ll need to talk to the crew to get that resolved.”

“If the power was back on, we wouldn’t have to deal with any of this. It’s all automated.”

“Clark, what’s the state of the new tech?” Ruth asked after a few minutes of anxious silence. “How far along was the installation?”

“Well, it wasn’t online yet,” Clark replied. “We were waiting for you to show up and help us.”

“So, it wasn’t running when the power went out?” Ruth asked.

Sweat ran down his face and neck. The air was warm and stale. “No, it hadn’t been turned on yet,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

“Because if we had some kind of power surge,” Ruth explained, “then it may only have damaged electrical systems that were running. A system that hadn’t yet been activated might be salvageable.”

Clark paused. “It’s an interesting possibility. Besides being a way to increase oil production, the new tech turned the control room into a sort of hardened space. Maybe the surge—if that’s what it was—didn’t get in there. We can cross a few fingers, anyway. The trick is getting it powered up and running again.”

“That’s the trick, yes,” Ruth replied. “Let’s head to the control room and see what we can figure out.”

The whole situation was alarming, of course, but Ruth always found that she remained calmer as long as she was seeking answers and solutions. Her father’s words had stuck with her all these years.

“Some of the electronics burned,” Stella noted in passing. “Maybe the whole system is shorting out.”

“That’s unlikely. Anyway, let’s not assume the worst,” she said, ushering her granddaughter through a door. “Not yet.”

They found themselves in the corridor between the rec room and the living quarters. In the rec room, Ruth saw a group of workers gathered around a table. Bestie the Lab was curled up near the table, gnawing on some kind of rawhide treat. Kay had a clear plastic dealer’s visor pulled low, and she was currently flipping cards onto the table. Light came from a number of flashlights that had been positioned on nearby tables, which cast a web of long, strange shadows in all directions across the room.

As Ruth, Clark, and Stella passed through the room, Kay looked up and said, with obvious sarcasm, “We’re having a fun old time, just like you ordered, boss.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Clark replied, with a dismissive flip of his hand. “Keep it up. We’re working on a solution.”

“That’s reassuring,” Kay replied, which got some hearty laughs from the workers gathered around her. “You’ll get to the bottom of it, I’m sure.”

They left the room and headed around the corner, approaching the control room door. As they did, Parker appeared in the distance. His black hair was slicked back against his forehead, and he was idly massaging his right shoulder. When he spotted them, he rushed down the hall to meet them.

“Well, well, friends and neighbors,” he said with his characteristic half-smile. “It’s still raining, but I managed to retrieve one of the lifeboats, and it’s in tip-top shape.” He brushed his hands together.

“How did you manage it?” Ruth asked. “Did you shimmy down the lift arm?”

“A bit of hard work and ingenuity,” he replied, waving off her comment. “So, we’ve got one lifeboat. Couldn’t get to the others. But it’s better than nothing, right? Jorge is out there tending to it, but I thought I’d deliver the good news.”

“We should send most of the crew back to the mainland,” Clark said. “As soon as possible. The company needs to know what’s happening on the Mako. But we’ll need enough to stay here to deal with the pressure problem.”

“What pressure problem?” Parker looked back and forth between them.

“We’ve got a problem with the drill. The pressure is rising and I don’t know why, yet. We’ll need some crew to remain to help with that problem, so choose wisely who we send back. Parker, I don’t suppose you’d go with the evacuating crew?”

“Eh, I just got here,” Parker replied, brushing some final drops of water off his sleeves. “If there’s not space for everyone, might as well let someone who’s been on the rig longer go home first.”

“Fine, then,” Clark replied, reaching for the control room door. “I’ll send as many workers as we can fit, but I want you to put the crew together. You know which people we can afford to lose and which ones we can’t.”

“I mean, sure. As long as you tell me what we’re dealing with.”

“I will, I will.” As he opened the control room, he glanced from Ruth to Stella. “We can make room for one more, though, if there’s anyone else who wants off this thing.”

A single lifeboat off the oil platform. Ruth had no intention of leaving, of course, but she looked at her granddaughter. Stella was standing behind her a few paces in the backwash of the flashlight beam.

I didn’t bring her here to deal with this, Ruth thought. And the power might not be restored for a long time.

“Parker, do me a favor, would you?” Ruth said. Clark had stepped into the dark control room, but Ruth stayed at the door. “When you put the crew together for the lifeboat, take Stella with you.”

Stella started suddenly. Jamming the phone back into her pocket, she turned to Ruth and said, “You mean both of us, right?”

“No, I’ll stay here and do my job,” Ruth replied, reaching out to gently pat her granddaughter on the shoulder. “But there’s no reason for you to stick around. Sorry the trip didn’t turn out to be what you wanted.”

“Oh, I’m not okay with that, Gran…”

Ruth hugged her. I’ll feel better if you’re safe, she said.”

“But what about you being safe?”

“I’ll be perfectly fine,” Ruth replied. “It’s time for you to go home.”

She gently eased Stella back and motioned her toward Parker.

Stella glanced at Parker. “So it’s just like that? Just leave you here and go?”

“Yeah, it’s for the best. Go pack up your stuff. When you get back on campus, call my department head and let them know what’s going on here. I’m not sure how much news has gotten out.”

“Now, now,” Clark interjected suddenly, raising one finger. “Let’s be careful what news we’re spreading to the outside world. We don’t even know what’s going on here yet. I’d hate to send the wrong message about the company.”

“The geology department at Texas A&M is not exactly the outside world,” Ruth said. “And they need to know I’m safe.”

Stella nodded. Parker clapped his hands and said, “All right, then, kiddo. Let’s round up a crew for the lifeboat and get you out of here.”

As he headed down the hall toward the rec room, Stella hesitated. “You’re going to come see us off, right?”

“Yes. I’ll meet you on deck. Stella, this is for the best.”

Stella seemed to accept that, and she turned to follow Parker down the hall.

* * *

Now that it was uncovered and resting on the platform in front of her, Ruth thought the lifeboat looked a lot more like a torpedo or some strange floating pod than any kind of boat. It was a fully covered plastic capsule, bright orange, with large hatchways on both sides that sealed tightly. She stood in the rain with Stella, Parker, and Kay, staring at it. Somehow, Parker and Jorge had disengaged the motor on the lift arm and raised it high enough to move the topmost lifeboat onto the deck.

“How can anyone inside even see where they’re going?” Stella asked, pressed against Ruth from the wind.

Ruth beckoned her granddaughter and walked around to the front of the lifeboat. There was a single small windshield of clear plastic in the front in a recessed area. She pointed it out.

“It only has to go straight,” Ruth replied.

“Yeah, but how is it going to do that without any power?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Parker smiled at Stella. “These lifeboats are a new design. They’ve got a contingency in case of power loss. See the hinge here? It can pop off once it’s in the water. Then we can use oars or even a makeshift sail to get the lifeboat back to shore.” ”

Parker walked a circle around the lifeboat, opening both of the side hatches, revealing the dark interior. Ruth saw some long white benches inside. It wouldn’t be a comfortable ride, and she wasn’t yet sure how they were going to lower it to the water.

“You can still come with us, Gran,” Stella said. “We can return to the oil platform when the power’s restored.”

“Like I said, I have a job to do,” Ruth replied, putting an arm around Stella’s shoulders and giving her a gentle squeeze. “Let’s just get you away from this mess. It’ll be unpleasant here for a while.”

Especially as we run out of fresh water and food, she thought, but did not say.

“All clear inside,” Parker said, stepping away from the nearest hatch.

Just then, a group of workers came out of the door. Two of them were pushing handcarts piled high with bags and boxes, including Stella’s suitcase and backpack. Stella moved to help them, but they waved her aside as they proceeded to transfer the bags and boxes into the lifeboat.

“I thought about this trip so much in the last few months,” Stella said. “I didn’t think it would be over so soon.”

“It’s not over,” Ruth replied. “This is just a temporary delay. We’ll get everything up and running again, and we can reschedule your visit for a later date.”

“But it might be too close to the next semester by then,” Stella said.

“We’ll work fast.”

Once the workers had finished loading up the gear and handing out life vests, the leaving crew entered the lifeboat and took seats within. Ruth saw them buckling themselves into place. She guided her granddaughter to the nearest hatch, as Parker stood to one side, motioning her inside.

“So…how do we lower this into the water?” Stella asked.

“We use good old-fashioned gravity power,” Parker replied, with a grin.

Wide-eyed, Stella glanced from Parker to Ruth and back. “You mean…you just drop it over the side?”

“That’s right,” Parker replied. “Don’t worry. The boat will right itself no matter how it lands. It’s designed that way. These things can be dropped from two hundred feet and still be just fine. Just look at it as a weird carnival ride.”

“I never liked carnival rides.” Stella shook her head and stepped down into the lifeboat. She waved at Ruth, then moved out of sight on the other side of the boat.

“You’ll be fine, dear,” Ruth called after her. “Get back to campus. I’ll contact you when things are up and running again.”

“Sure, okay,” Stella replied from within.

After the rest of the workers has entered the boat, Parker swung the hatch shut and locked it, Ruth felt a twinge of regret. It was for the best. Still, sending Stella out with a bunch of strangers didn’t feel right. Now, a little less than a dozen people remained on the oil platform, including Clark, Parker, Kay, and Jorge. Most of the other workers were leaving. That, too, was for the best, especially if the loss of power continued for a few days.

Parker walked around to the other side of the lifeboat, out of sight, and shut that hatch as well. Then he moved to the lift arm. Since he’d somehow disengaged the lift motor, he was able to swing the arm out over the handrail so that the boat hung above the water. Then he manually disengaged the clamps holding the lifeboat to the lift arm, and it slipped free.

As Ruth and the others watched, the lifeboat dropped to the water below. Ruth thought she heard a squeal of terror coming from inside, but the drop was short. The boat impacted the water nose first, sank deep, then was ejected from the water by its own buoyancy. It bounced up into the air and landed again in its proper orientation.

“I’m sure she enjoyed that,” Parker said to Ruth. “Better than a roller coaster.”

“Oh, she hated it,” Ruth replied, “but she’s on her way now. It’ll be fine.”

And indeed, as she watched the lifeboat floating away from the oil platform, Ruth felt a weight lifted off her shoulders.

7

The schematics for the oil platform were voluminous and many. There simply wasn’t a table large enough to contain them in all their unrolled glory, so Ruth finally put a few card tables together in the rec room near the window to take advantage of the sunlight. When she got them unrolled across her makeshift worktable, she had to weigh down the corners. The Texas Hold’em game had been left in haste, and a few stray decks of cards were scattered about. She gathered them up and pinned down the corners.

Bestie found the sudden emptiness of the rec room disconcerting, and she ignored her comfortable blankets in the corner to sit near Ruth’s feet. Periodically, she rose, put her paws on the edge of the table, and looked at the unrolled schematics on the tabletop, as if trying to figure out what the lone human was doing. Finally, apparently not getting the attention she needed, she looked up at Ruth and whimpered.

“Did they leave you all alone, girl?” Ruth asked, reaching over to pat the dog. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you still get fed.”

This seemed to satisfy her. Bestie panted, walked a little circle, and lay down on the floor again.

Without Stella and the other workers, Ruth at least had fewer people to worry about. She could bend all of her efforts to the task at hand, and that meant trying to figure out if there was some way to power up the new tech. There didn’t seem to be any visible damage to the new system inside the control room. Somehow, it had escaped whatever phenomenon had damaged the rest of the electronics on the oil platform.

She was leaning in close, tracking circuitry through the lower floor, when she heard footsteps in the hall. She looked up and caught Kay just as the stocky woman came around the corner. She seemed annoyed, scowling and shaking her head. She approached Ruth’s table, after making a brief detour to pet and talk to Bestie, and came to a stop.

“Find anything interesting there?” she asked, gesturing at the schematics.

“Not yet,” Ruth replied. “Just looking at the schematics for the rig’s upgrade, trying to figure out how much of the system might have been spared from whatever power surge went through this place. I’m hoping I can find some way to generate power with the surviving tech.”

Kay nodded. “Good luck with that. Hey, have you seen the boss around here anywhere?”

“Clark?” Ruth replied. “He was in the control room with me before we launched the lifeboat, but I didn’t see him there when I got back. Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe in his office?”

“That would make sense, but nope,” Kay replied. “He’s not there. Not in his quarters either. I thought maybe he’d be in here with you. For Pete’s sake, there’s like hardly anyone left on this oil platform, and we have no radios or comm systems that work. It’s not a good time to go roaming around, especially when you’re in charge.” She seemed to realize she was ranting at the wrong person then, and gave Ruth an apologetic shrug. “Anyway, if you happen to find him, tell him I’m looking for him, would you?”

“Yes, of course,” Ruth replied. “I’m sure he’ll turn up.”

And with that, Kay grunted unhappily and headed across the room toward the dark hallway beyond. She made sure to stoop down and pat Bestie again in passing. Once she was gone, Ruth started to return to the schematics, but she paused. Clark was supposed to be working in the control room. Where else would he have gone, if not to his office? Maybe the restroom? Either way, it seemed strange that he would make himself scarce at a time like this.

If he’s in the restroom, he’ll head back to the control room when he’s done, she thought. He knows getting the new tech up and running is the priority.

It was actually a bit annoying under the circumstances. If something else had come up, he should have at least told her where he was going. Ruth finally rose, grabbed her flashlight, and set off for the control room, intending to look for him. She left the schematics where they were and walked out of the rec room. She got into the hallway and around the corner before she realized Bestie had followed her.

“Well, I don’t blame you,” Ruth said, as the dog padded up beside her, panting and gazing up at her with those big, brown eyes. “I wouldn’t want to sit in a dark room by myself either. Come on.”

She headed down the hallway toward the cafeteria door, Bestie at her side. As she passed the cafeteria, she smelled stale food. Something had been left out, probably leftovers from lunch. They weren’t rotten, of course, as only a few hours had passed since the power outage, but she could tell the cafeteria would become a problem sooner or later. Refrigerated food would have to be consumed quickly or thrown out before it rotted.

Unless we get power restored soon, she reminded herself. Which we might do.

With all of the workers gone, the place was even emptier than before. The dark corridors felt abandoned with almost no background noise. Her footsteps were unusually loud, echoing down the long hallways. She reached the control room door and noticed that it was slightly ajar. Kay had probably left it open, or maybe Clark had returned from his break.

We’ll have to set some clear ground rules about staying in touch with one another, she thought, as she pushed the door open.

As she stepped into the room, she swept the flashlight from left to right, shining it across the long array of control panels and the various monitors and equipment that lined the wall. And then the light settled on the person sitting in the chair near the end of the console. Ruth almost said the boss’s name. Of course, it would be him. But then she realized this was a smaller figure. Someone in a pale blue jacket with a hood hiding her face. Bestie entered the room and went toward her.

Ruth spun the chair toward the light and revealed a young face with a sheepish expression. A hand reached out and rested on the Lab’s back. Ruth felt a jolt of surprise.

“What the—?” she said. “What in the world are you doing here? How did you get here?”

It was such a surprise to see her sitting in the control room that Ruth stepped farther into the room and thrust the flashlight out in front of her to make sure she wasn’t somehow confused.

“Sorry, Gran,” Stella said. She had her backpack on her lap, one arm resting on top.

“I watched you get into the lifeboat,” Ruth said. “Parker closed the hatch. It dropped into the ocean.”

“The other workers weren’t really paying attention to me,” Stella said, “so I went right across to the hatch on the other side and slipped out.”

“We were standing there on the deck,” Ruth said. “I was staring at the lifeboat.”

“I know.” Stella gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Gran. As soon as I stepped onto that lifeboat, I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave you here by yourself. But I knew you’d make me go, even if I tried to stay, so I snuck out and hid behind the big lift motor until everyone went inside.”

Now that the initial shock was passing, Ruth felt anger taking its place, and she had to fight with herself for a moment to keep from yelling at her granddaughter. “That was incredibly foolish. I put you on that lifeboat for a good reason. The platform could be dangerous, with the rising drill pressure.”

Stella looked past Ruth toward the open door. Then she rose, set her backpack on the chair, and rushed across the room. Slipping past Ruth, she pushed the control room door shut and set her back against it. As she did, Bestie started to follow her, as if she thought Stella was leaving. When she shut the door, the dog cocked her head to one side and gave her a confused look.

“Gran, listen to me,” Stella said, speaking softly. “I think there’s something worse than just a power outage going on here. I don’t think this was caused by the storm or any other natural phenomenon.”

“Well, that’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Ruth said. “And until we do—”

“I think it was a terrorist act,” Stella said, cutting her off. “This kind of thing has been all over the news.”

“You’ve been reading too many internet reports about that damned AI-Led Society,” Ruth said. “It’s got you paranoid, thinking any problem must be a terrorist attack, but there’s a high likelihood that this was a natural phenomenon. If I could get some information about solar activity, I might be able to confirm it.”

Despite her own words, Ruth felt a little twist of anxiety in her gut. In fact, she couldn’t rule out the possibility that this had been some kind of attack, though she couldn’t imagine how it would have been done, or who would have done it. Of all possible targets, why would AILS target some random oil platform?

“We would’ve heard a report about solar activity before the power went out, don’t you think?” Stella said. “Anyway, if I’m going to leave the oil platform, I’m going to leave with you.”

“All signs point to a natural cause at this point,” Ruth said. Though she couldn’t deny the possibility that Stella was right, even if it was slight, she wouldn’t admit it. Not yet. Not when there was a bigger issue at hand. “Stella, dear, I’m going to be blunt with you for a minute. The fact that you snuck out of the lifeboat and stayed on board when I told you to leave is a real betrayal of trust.”

She expected Stella to apologize, but the young woman stood her ground. Her back was still firmly against the control room door, and she now planted her hands on her hips.

“Gran, trust is the whole reason I’m on this oil platform in the first place,” Stella said. “You told me you thought I could handle being here, and you said you knew I was up to the task.”

Stella continued, raising her voice. “I didn’t want to be sent away from you at the first sign of trouble. I don’t want to leave you here to run out of food and water while I get sent home alone! If it’s an issue of trust, maybe you should trust me.”

Ruth was caught off guard by the intensity of her granddaughter’s protest, and she found herself at a loss for words. Where had this fit of boldness come from?

Before Ruth could respond, Stella continued. “Anyway, Gran, you can’t have it both ways. Whether this is a problem caused by a natural phenomenon or I’m right and it’s an attack, if the power outage is minor enough that we can fix it, I don’t need to leave. And if it’s worse than that, well, we have bigger problems than who got on the lifeboat and who didn’t.”

Backed into a corner. Ruth grunted and lowered the flashlight. “Well. You sound like your mother.”

Stella smiled sadly. “We both got it from you.”

Ruth shook her head, mostly to hide her smile. “Okay, no use getting lost in memories. Stella, we will finish discussing this later,” she said. “You pulled your little stunt, and now you’re here with me. So be it. Step aside and grab your backpack.”

She pointed at the backpack on the chair, and Stella walked over to grab it. As she did, Ruth opened the control room door. Bestie had watched their whole argument with her head tilted, but as soon as Ruth headed for the door, she followed.

“Where are we going?” Stella asked.

“To find Clark,” Ruth replied. “Apparently, he’s decided to wander off without telling anyone where he went. You get to help me track him down. We can’t get anything done around here without the boss.” She gestured at the dog. “Maybe our new friend here will help us find him.”

Ruth stepped out into the hallway, shining the flashlight in the direction of the entry room, where a big puddle of water was still struggling to drain. As she did, she heard Stella scrambling to follow her.

8

Even though Kay had already checked it, Ruth decided to head for Clark’s office next. If the boss was off on some self-appointed task, surely he would return to his office eventually. Ruth and Stella encountered no one else along the way. Ruth thought Bestie might give them some indication if she smelled a familiar figure—such as a little barrel-shaped man with oily hair and a penchant for scented candles—in their vicinity, but the dog just trotted along at their side. From the entry room to the back hallway, there was neither sight nor sound of any of the others. It was as if everyone else on the oil platform had scattered into the deepest recesses.

“This place is kinda creepy without the other workers around,” Stella noted. “We shouldn’t let everyone spread out like this.”

“We’re definitely going to have to coordinate better,” Ruth grumbled. “This is ridiculous. Trying to track people down on foot in this place is a huge waste of time.”

They reached Clark’s office and found the door ajar. A single candle was still burning on a corner of his desk, the faint scent of “vanilla cookie” wafting out. That was a good sign. Ruth pushed the door open all the way and shone the flashlight inside. It was clear that the candle had burned down quite a bit. It had a large pool of melted wax inside.

The padded leather chair behind the desk was empty, but it was pushed back against the wall. Bestie entered the room, crossed to the desk, and raised her head to sniff the air, then she turned and looked at Ruth.

“Well, he’s not here,” Ruth said sourly. “Maybe he found a quiet room somewhere to take a nap. I don’t know. I’ll just get to work without him, I suppose.”

“There’s probably an intercom system you could use to summon him,” Stella said. “If you got the power going again.”

“Yeah, that’s the trick.” A wild idea occurred to her, and she turned to Stella. “You don’t suppose Clark snuck onto the lifeboat just before we shut the hatches, do you?”

“I didn’t see him,” Stella said with a shrug. “He’s not exactly a small guy. I don’t think he could sneak past everyone like that.”

“Right. It was a silly idea anyway,” Ruth said with a sigh. “I’m sure he got caught up in some task and lost track of time.”

The combination of Stella’s sudden reappearance and Clark’s mysterious disappearance had put Ruth in a foul mood. She could feel it building inside of her, even as she tried to refocus her thoughts on her work. Getting the power back on was the priority.

“Maybe if we made some kind of loud noise, he would hear it and come running,” Stella said.

“What did you have in mind?” Ruth asked, shining the light along the shelves, where rows of dark candles were still lined up in front of books and folders.

“I don’t know,” Stella replied. “A bell? A whistle? Maybe we could hit a metal tool against the wall?”

“We’re not going to stand around banging on the walls hoping he turns up.”

“What if we gave Bestie a piece of his clothing to smell?” Stella said.

“You’re thinking of a bloodhound, dear. I’d rather just get back to work and wait until he decides to show up again.”

As she turned to leave, Ruth shone the flashlight across the other side of the room, and the beam passed over a large box on the floor. She paused and trained the beam on it. It was sitting near the back corner, resting on a small, wheeled dolly. Ruth knew what it was right away: a portable diesel generator, the kind one might use as backup power for a small house.

“Now, where did this come from?” she wondered aloud, approaching and squatting in front of it. She unscrewed the fuel cap and shone the light inside. Pale yellow diesel fuel caught the light. “Maybe this is what Clark was looking for, but where did he find it? Why didn’t he mention it?”

Bestie walked over to examine the generator, but when she got too close to the open fuel tank, Ruth gently nudged her back.

“Could that generate enough power to get the lights back on?” Stella asked.

“Well, I’m not sure. But it should be enough to power up the terminal in the control room, and that alone would be a game-changer.”

She ran her hands along the metal framework that contained the small generator. It was dented and dinged, and the generator itself was in rough shape, flecked with rust and large grease stains. She was tempted to try it right there, but she decided to wheel it to the control room first. “Stella, dear, could you help me move this thing?” She screwed the fuel cap back on.

“I’ll get it, Gran,” Stella said, entering the office. “Let me push it while you lead the way.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I got it.”

Stella stooped down and grabbed the metal framework. As Ruth backed through the door, Stella proceeded to push the generator and dolly after her. The wheels were squeaky, but it seemed to move easily. Ruth made her way back to the control room. As she did, Bestie’s ears perked up suddenly, and she made a soft sound, almost a whimper. This drew Ruth’s attention, and a moment later, she heard someone moving distantly in the hall somewhere beyond the cafeteria and rec room.

“Well, someone’s still around,” she noted.

They rolled the generator into the control room, resting it in a corner near the computer terminal for the new system. Then they went in search of the other person.

“It’s like a weird game of hide and go seek,” Stella noted, as they passed the cafeteria with its faint old bread smell. “Except we only have flashlights, which makes it a thousand times creepier.”

“Personally, I’m tired of playing this game,” Ruth said. “I’d rather go back to work.”

As they rounded the corner beyond the cafeteria, Ruth spotted a figure in the distance. She aimed the flashlight at him and realized it was Parker. He was approaching from the direction of the rec room, lugging a small white trash bag in one hand. He raised the other hand in greeting.

“Well, there’s someone, at least,” Ruth said. She called out to him. “Parker, where have you been?”

He raised the trash bag. It was half-full of small objects. “Just looting the empty bedrooms of any snacks and drinks I could find,” he said, giving her a big smile. “The workers who left won’t need them now, but we might. I found a few bottles of tea and soda, a ton of chips, and granola bars. I’ll bring it all to the cafeteria.”

He stopped in front of her, grinning proudly at his bag of goodies. He seemed to be in a pretty good mood, considering their circumstances. Ruth wished she could feel so elated at something as simple as a bag full of snacks, but her foul mood was deep. Bestie approached and sniffed at the bag.

“Bringing all of our food to a central location is a good idea,” Ruth said. “Do you happen to know where everyone else is at? Everyone seems to have scattered.”

“Uh, most of them, I think,” he said. “Jorge and Kay went to round up some gear from the workshops. The rest are trying to solve the drill pressure problem.”

“How about Clark? Is he with them?”

He shook his head. “Nope, the big boss went to his office, I think. That was a while ago.”

“He’s not there,” Ruth said. “Could you do me a big favor? Since you know where they are, would you go and get Jorge and Kay and bring them to the cafeteria? We really need to meet and coordinate our efforts here. Everyone is scattered.”

Parker gave her a little salute with his free hand. “You got it. Just let me drop off my goodies here, and I’ll head down below. Shouldn’t take more than five or ten minutes.”

“Great,” Ruth said. “I’ll meet you there.”

Parker started to pass her by, but he noticed Stella just then and lurched backward a step, as if startled. “Whoa, wait a second. How’d she get here? I watched you climb into the lifeboat and float away. Did you swim back?”

“She snuck out of the starboard hatch before you walked around and shut it,” Ruth replied, before Stella could offer an excuse of her own. “It’s a long story, believe me. Let’s not get into it now.”

At this, Parker laughed. It was a lilting sound, pleasant. The man just seemed unflappable, like he was having the time of his life. It actually raised her own spirits, some. Ruth wished she shared his carefree attitude. “In that case, welcome back aboard, kiddo. I’ll see you both in a few minutes.”

Ruth glanced at Stella, who was blushing in embarrassment.

You brought it on yourself, she thought, and beckoned Stella to follow her.

* * *

A long row of Clark’s scented candles created plenty of light along the cafeteria table so they could save on battery power. Parker, Jorge, and Kay sat on a bench together on one side of the table. And four other workers sat in chairs that had been dragged over. At the moment, Parker was struggling to unwrap a small multi-grain cereal bar. Ruth and Stella sat across from them, the row of flickering flames between. Already, the air was filling with a strange mixture of smells: vanilla cookie, cinnamon, lavender, campfire, sandalwood, and the curiosity called “tropical nights.”

“Boy, when you mix all the candles together like that, it makes kind of a sickly smell, doesn’t it?” Parker noted, finally getting the wrapper off his cereal bar. “Especially when it mingles with the leftover lunch food in the trash can over there.”

“We’ll move the trash when we’re done here,” Ruth said. “The reason I wanted you all to come here is so we can coordinate things better. Everyone wandered off after the lifeboat left, and it’s really hard to find people in this place without radios or intercoms. So, first things first, have any of you seen Clark since we launched the lifeboat?”

Kay and Jorge glanced at each other knowingly. Clearly, they had already discussed the issue.

“Last time I saw the boss, he was in the control room,” Parker said.

“Was that before we launched the lifeboat?” Ruth asked.

He nodded. “I didn’t see him when I got back inside, but I assumed he went to his office. He usually winds up there.”

“No one has seen him since the lifeboat left,” Kay said. “I already told you that. I’ve looked for him in all of his usual places, and he’s nowhere to be found.”

“Maybe he got himself locked in a closet or something,” Jorge suggested.

“He would be making noise,” Kay said. “We would hear him. We were in the workshops below, and it was whisper quiet down there until we started making noise.”

“What are you suggesting?” Jorge asked.

Kay hesitated a second before saying, “I think we have to consider the possibility that he’s no longer on this oil platform.”

“So, what happened to him, then?” Parker said, chewing loudly on his cereal bar. Far too much lip smacking. He had a few crumbs in his beard. “Did he fall overboard? Maybe the wind swept him over the handrail somehow. I know that’s unlikely, but it’s not impossible.”

Ruth thought Parker sounded just a bit too callous about the whole thing. Maybe he didn’t care much for the boss, maybe none of them did, but what if the man had indeed fallen into the ocean?

“Or maybe, like Ruth suggested earlier, he snuck onto the lifeboat and escaped with the rest of the crew,” Parker added, peeling back the wrapper to reach more of the cereal bar. “I know he’s a husky guy, but if the kid here can sneak off the boat without being seen, then he might have been able to sneak on without being seen. It would just take a bit more stealth.”

“Even if it was possible, the boss wouldn’t do a lowlife thing like that,” Jorge said. “Leave without telling anyone? No, I can’t imagine it.”

At this, Parker shrugged one shoulder, and Kay said, “He’s surprised us with his behavior before. Can you honestly say he’s never done an unreasonable or inexplicable thing?”

Jorge grunted. “Well, no, of course not, but he’s never abandoned us before.”

“We’ve never had a crisis like this before,” Kay added.

Ruth could feel her foul mood returning, but she tried to push it back. Now was not the time to brood about bad management or misfortune. Clearly, she was going to have to step up and take charge, at least until they could get some help.

“Okay, so here’s our situation,” she said, folding her hands on the tabletop. “We can’t reach shore, the boss is missing, we’ve got a situation with rising drill pressure, and nothing on the oil platform works. We have ten people on board at the moment, and we don’t know when help is coming. But we’re not just going to roll over and give up, and we’re not going to scatter into the darkness. Let’s pull together and deal with the situation at hand. I was brought in to head up the team for the upgrade, so I’ll take the lead on this. We have access to a single, small generator. I’ll see if it works, and if so, I’m going to try to get the console for the new system up and running. We might be able to figure out the source of our problem and maybe access some of the larger systems from there. As for the rest of you—”

Kay held up a hand. “Hey, wait a minute. Did you just appoint yourself the new boss? Is that how it works now?”

Everyone stared at her, and Parker’s smile was only hanging on by a thread. The cereal bar dangled from his right fist.

“It’s a little weird for an outside specialist to assume command, isn’t it?” Kay said, then added, “No offense.”

“Kay is a deck supervisor,” Jorge noted. “Wouldn’t she be next in line for the boss’s chair? After her, maybe Parker. He’s head of the maintenance team. As for me, I’m just a motorman and occasional driller.”

“We should at least discuss it, I think,” Kay replied. “There have to be company rules on succession in a situation like this. Shouldn’t we try to find the manual of S-O-Ps?”

Parker cleared his throat loudly and spoke.

“No offense, Kay, but you don’t know jack about the computer system for the new tech. If we were trying to get the drill up and running, you might have some contribution to make. And in fact, you should be in charge of dealing with our drill pressure situation. But outside of that, we’re trying to reroute control to a new computer so we can restore power, and Ruth was brought here specifically to help with the new tech, so she’s the perfect person to take charge, at least temporarily. Consider her a temporary special project leader or something, if you need standard operating procedures.”

Kay bit her lip and scowled at the nearest candle flame, clearly fuming.

“Yeah, I guess Parker is right,” Jorge said after a moment. “Ruth is the expert here, so she should be making the decisions for the time being. That’s fine with me.”

“I’m not actually becoming the rig manager,” Ruth said. “That’s still Clark. This has nothing to do with any real position in the company. My goal is to get the control room up and running so we can get the power back on and call the mainland for help. That’s it! There’s no pay raise in this.”

Kay held up her hands. “Okay, okay, I get it. It’s just…chain of command has been an issue around here in the past, so my instinct told me to fight for myself. When you give in, people walk all over you. I say that from experience.”

Ruth had to get these people on board, whatever their personal issues might be. “Look, I promise I’m going to do everything I can to get us rescued. The company is not going to forget we’re out here. That’s what this is all about.”

Parker grinned at her, Jorge nodded, and even Kay’s expression softened. Kay was still not happy about the situation, that was clear, but at least she was done arguing about it. She rubbed Bestie’s ears.

“Okay, so…for now, I’d like you two”—she pointed at two of the workers—“to start doing an inventory. Look for anything that could be useful. More candles or flashlights, that sort of thing.”

They rose immediately and set off.

Ruth turned to Kay. “And I’m putting you in charge of the drill pressure problem. Last time I spoke with Clark, he told me that we had maybe only two days to fix it before it becomes a problem. Is that true?”

Kay snorted. “Leave it to Clark to downplay it. But yeah, it’s true. We don’t know what’s causing the pressure to rise. I suspect it has something to do with whatever caused the power to go out. It doesn’t really matter, though. If we can’t get it to stop rising, then this whole platform could go up.”

“I see. We definitely don’t want that.”

“No. We don’t.”

“All right, then are you okay with taking charge of that situation? You can take who you need to help you.”

Kay exhaled, then gave a quick nod. “Fine.”

Kay rose and motioned to some of the other workers to follow her and took a flashlight with her. Once they were gone, Ruth turned to Parker.

“What have you got for me, new boss?” he asked, popping the last of the cereal bar in his mouth. “Send me forth.”

“Well, I think anything you can do to help Kay has to be a priority. It won’t matter if we get the power back on if the drill explodes or does whatever it’s threatening to do. And, if you could keep an eye on Kay, that would also help,” Ruth said softly.

“You think she might be trouble?” he asked.

Ruth shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe it’s just that she’s chafing under my leadership, but there might be more to it.”

He gave Ruth a little salute and rose, jamming the cereal bar wrapper in his jacket pocket as he set off across the cafeteria. “I think you’re right,” Parker added with a wink. “I’ll keep an eye on her. No problem. In fact, I’ll stick real close.”

9

Stella hadn’t been given much to do. For a while, she sat in a padded chair in a corner of the control room, watching the candle flames flickering as Ruth worked on the generator. She had some snacks and a bottle of water on the desk beside her, but other than sipping a bit of water, Stella hadn’t touched them. Not much of an appetite.

Had she made a mistake slipping off that lifeboat? At the time, it had been an impulsive act motivated by the dread of leaving her gran here alone. She’d come here to help Ruth and learn from her, and leaving would’ve had the opposite effect.

But that was before people had started to disappear. The fact that the boss of this entire operation had just dropped off the face of the earth kind of changed things. This wasn’t just a power outage. People were vanishing, maybe dying, and now Stella was caught in the middle of it.

I have nothing to contribute and no way to help Gran.

It was a hard thing to admit about herself. She’d always looked up to her grandmother and wanted very much to be like her, but now that she’d had a chance to accompany her on an important job, Stella was mostly just a presence. At the moment, Ruth was bent over the back of the generator. Stella heard a bit of clinking and clanking, but she couldn’t see what her gran was doing.

“Okay, I think that’s got it,” Ruth said, after a few minutes.

She wasn’t even talking to Stella. That was clear. She was just muttering to herself. Stella reached over and grabbed a small chocolate bar, but instead of unwrapping it, she just held onto it.

“I don’t know where they were storing this thing,” Ruth said, tossing a wrench onto the nearby table, “but it’s in sorry shape. Let’s see if I can get it going now.”

She turned a knob on the generator, then pressed a button. The generator gave a little gasp, then the motor roared to life. It ran so rough that the whole machine bounced on its dolly and shook like it was going to fly apart. A trail of smoke poured out of the exhaust, glowing orange in the candlelight. And then, after a few seconds, the generator died, gave a last wheeze, and went still.

Ruth sighed and sat down on the floor, hanging her head.

“Gran, are you okay?” Stella asked.

Ruth grabbed a screwdriver off the table, and it seemed like she was going to return to work without responding to the question. But after a moment, she sighed and looked over her shoulder.

“Sorry, dear, I’m just frustrated,” she said.

“You’re worried about Clark, aren’t you?” Stella asked. “You think something bad happened to him?”

Ruth shook her head and bent over the generator again. “I don’t know what happened to him. We just have to focus on the task at hand. For some reason, this damned generator won’t keep running.” She started to resume work, but paused and glanced over her shoulder again. “Stay close to me or someone trustworthy at all times, okay? The last thing I need is to lose you, too, somehow.”

“Gran, you’re not going to lose me,” Stella said. “I’m not going to wander off by myself like Clark did.”

“Just stay close to a trustworthy adult at all times,” Ruth said. “Never wander off. Can you do that?”

At first, Stella felt an urge to push back. She was an adult, not a child that needed babysitting. Just because Clark had done something stupid didn’t mean she would. Then again, she had snuck off the lifeboat without telling anyone, and that seemed pretty stupid now.

“I won’t wander off,” she said. “I promise. But it seems likely he fell overboard, right?”

“I think anything is possible at this point,” Ruth replied. “For all we know, he did sneak onto the lifeboat. There’s no point speculating. We should keep looking for him as we work. If he turns up alive, and he was just hiding or doing something stupid, he’ll have a lot to answer for.”

The door flew open then, startling Stella and causing the candle flames to dance. Parker stood there, dripping water onto the floor. He had his raincoat zipped up, a hood over his head. He pushed the hood back, and he wasn’t smiling for once.

“Sorry to interrupt your hard work,” he said to Ruth. “I guess I should drip dry before coming in here.”

Ruth rose slowly from the generator. She set the screwdriver aside. “Is there another problem?” she asked.

“Not sure,” Parker replied, “but there’s definitely something you should come and see.”

He beckoned her, then backed into the hall. Ruth sighed and then motioned for Stella to stay close. Stella slid the chocolate bar into her jacket pocket and went after her, slipping the straps of her backpack over her shoulders.

“Is it a problem with one of the other workers?” Ruth asked.

“No, nothing like that,” Parker said. “Something a lot weirder.”

He headed down the hall toward the entry room. As they drew near, Stella could hear the wind howling outside. When he opened the door, she saw that rain was still falling, though it seemed to have let off just a bit. Parker headed outside, and Stella wondered if someone else had fallen overboard. Maybe Parker had spotted a body in the water. That would explain the lack of a smile. Maybe it was Clark. Maybe they’d spotted him out there bobbing in the waves.

She stepped through the door and felt cold rain on her face. Stella envisioned a pale body, far away, being taken by the current. She pulled up her hood. The sun was setting, however, and with no exterior light, the ocean below was quite dark.

If there’s a body down there, we wouldn’t see it, she thought. Clark could be floating alone in the darkness, unable to cry out for some reason, and we’d never know.

Parker strode up to the handrail beside the lift arm, and Ruth joined him.

“Do you see it?” Parker said, pointing out into the blackness.

Stella stepped to one side to see past him. And there it was. A faint orange glow along the horizon. Hazy but distinct, it spanned what seemed like a very large space.

“Well, that’s something,” Ruth said. “What do you think it is?”

Parker grabbed the handrail and leaned forward a bit, which put him precariously over the drop.

“Well, that’s the direction of the Texas shoreline,” he said. “I think we’re seeing Port Arthur. It looks like the mainland has power. That’s good news, right? The lifeboat should be there by now, which means we could be rescued soon.”

Ruth kept staring at the horizon for a few seconds. Then she shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean?” Parker replied.

“The glow isn’t the right color,” she said. “City lights would be more yellow. This is a dark orange color.”

“All the rain haze might be shifting the color,” Parker said.

“No, it’s fire,” Ruth said.

“Fire? How can you tell?”

“In Oklahoma, farmers burn their pastures to control the risk of wildfires. It eliminates excess dried grass and old thatch. During the late winter and early spring, you can sometimes see the farmers driving along their fields on ATVs, dragging flares behind them. It’s quite a sight. I grew up there. On more than one occasion, while driving at night, I saw the fires beyond the horizon as millions of acres burned. I know what a fire looks like from this distance. It’s a very different color from city lights.”

“If that’s fire, it must be huge,” Stella said.

“Miles wide, for sure,” Ruth replied, clinging to the handrail.

Parker uttered a low whistle and shook his head. “The shore is a long way from here. To create that much light, the whole city would have to be on fire. I sure hope you’re wrong.”

“I’m not,” Ruth said softly.

“What is going on over there?” Parker wondered aloud. He made a little clucking sound with his tongue. “It’s like we’re at war or something.”

Stella stepped closer to Ruth. “Gran, does it have anything to do with our loss of power?”

“A fire on shore might cut power, but it wouldn’t fry our electronics,” Ruth replied. “But that doesn’t mean they’re not connected. Something really weird is going on here, that’s for sure, but it turns out, we may be the lucky ones. I’d rather be here on the oil platform than anywhere near a fire of that size.”

“Lucky?” Parker replied, and he managed a soft, sarcastic chuckle. “It doesn’t feel too lucky around here.”

10

John Baron adjusted the beat-up baseball cap on his head, pulling the brim down low to keep the wind from pulling it away. Then he tightened the rolled ends of his sleeves and bent down to grab the net. His son, Curtis, was standing farther down the starboard side of their fishing boat, trying to untwist part of the fishing net, but the weight of the catch made it difficult.

“Just pull it up,” John said. “Don’t worry about the twist there. Get it on deck.”

Curtis was the mirror image of his father’s younger self, lanky with strong arms, short hair, a patchy beard. They were even dressed alike in Columbia fishing shirts (Curtis’s green, John’s blue) and had similar baseball caps (Curtis’s new, John’s ancient). Curtis was standing beside the net’s motorized lift arm. As he reeled it in, John angled it over the handrail.

“Ooh, I see mackerel,” Curtis said, as the first of their catch breached the surface and began to thrash. “Sea trout. Is that halibut?”

“Just get it on deck,” John replied. “We might not have enough room in the hold for all of this, so we’ll have to toss a bunch of them back.”

John had just pulled the net over the deck when he heard a familiar bark and squall coming from the cabin. He rose, rubbed his aching hands on the slick sides of his pants, and stepped past the lift.

“Don’t open the net until I get back,” he said to his son. “Leave it hanging. That’s the emergency channel.”

Curtis gave him a sour look. He was twenty years old. John realized he had a bit of a problem barking orders at his son. It was hard not to see him as the willful little boy he’d once been. John stepped into the boat’s small cabin and reached for the radio, which was held by Velcro to the dashboard. A voice was already speaking, but he had the volume turned down.

“Is it the storm?” Curtis asked. “We can already see the clouds building. Maybe it’s time we head back. We got a full catch now anyway.”

“Hang on a second,” John said, raising the radio to his ear and twisting the volume knob.

A tinny voice came through. The storm was causing some interference, so the sound wasn’t great. “…a terrorist group that goes by the name of A-I-L-S, which stands for AI-Led Society…” The voice cut out again, replaced by static.

“Is it about the storm?” Curtis asked.

“No, something else,” John replied. “Terrorists, I think. Now, hush a second. It’s hard to make out.”

The voice broke through the static again. “…and according to Homeland Security, AILS has made a credible threat of an EMP attack…” And then the voice was consumed by static again.

John pressed the radio to his ear and listened through the static for a while. He thought he caught the words “EMP attack” again, but the emergency broadcast didn’t come back clearly. Finally, he turned the volume down and returned the radio to its Velcro nest.

“Well, what was that all about?” Curtis asked. Despite his dad’s instruction, he had swung the net over the deck, angling it over the hold, and he was reaching toward the lift controls, as if to lower it.

“I told you to wait,” John replied, taking his position on the other side of the net. “It takes two to do that safely.”

“I know what we’re keeping and what we’re throwing back,” Curtis replied. “I’m not some novice. You know I’ve done this hundreds of times, right?”

John knelt in front of the net, retightened the rolls of his sleeves, and bit back a surly response. Curtis wasn’t wrong, after all. “It’s fine. Let’s just get this done so we can beat the storm home.”

“What was the guy on the radio saying?” Curtis asked. “Is it something we have to worry about?”

“It was weird,” John replied, delicately dropping an undersized wahoo into the water. “Almost sounded like a news report. All I caught was something about a terrorist group threatening an attack. I don’t know why it was broadcast over the emergency channel like that.”

“Well, it won’t affect us all the way out here,” Curtis replied. “You can’t conduct a terrorist attack against the whole Gulf of Mexico.”

John looked around, saw the endless expanse of ocean on all sides, and felt a moment of comfort. They were about as far from any terrorist targets as you could possibly be.

Suddenly, the soft whirring motor of the net’s lift arm cut off, winding down as if someone had flicked the power switch. The net was still dangling from the lift, and the loss of power caused the arm to dip down slightly. This put the bulging net against the starboard railing.

“Oh, for God’s sake, did you shut it off?” John said to his son.

“I wasn’t even touching the controls,” Curtis replied. He reached back to the lift arm’s control panel and pressed a two-sided button. It didn’t respond. “I think the lift just died on us. Is the generator out?”

John rose and went to the lift. As he reached for the controls, a sudden gust of wind came from the aft and blew across the deck. It caught the net of fish and shoved it overboard. Suddenly, the heavy weight was dangling from the dead lift arm, and without the motor, the arm began to swing back and forth.

“Back up. Back up,” John shouted at his son, waving him back.

As he said it, the heavy net swung toward Curtis and bounced off the hull. Curtis stumbled backward and fell, landing on the deck on his rear. He scrambled to his feet just as John headed to the cabin.

“Try to get the lift motor started,” John said.

“What are you doing?” Curtis asked.

“I’m going for the hook.”

The wind was coming in fierce gusts, and every time it blew hard, the lift arm swung. And when it swung, the boat rocked wildly from side to side. Curtis crawled to the lift’s control panel and the box below that contained the motor. John lost sight of him as he stepped into the cabin and reached for the long fishing hook, which was mounted above the steering wheel near the ceiling.

As he grabbed the hook’s long handle, the boat rocked far to port, and he was shoved against the side of the captain’s chair. He heard Curtis curse loudly before thumping against the outside wall of the cabin.

“What are you doing out there?” John asked, pushing on the captain’s chair.

“The motor is fried,” Curtis replied.

“Why? What happened?”

“Something must have shorted,” Curtis said. “I don’t know. I just see big black marks here.”

Bracing himself against the back of the captain’s chair, he reached up above the wheel and managed to bounce the fishing hook off its mount with the tips of his fingers. It fell, and he caught it in midair. But the lift arm swung again, and the boat rocked to starboard. John stumbled backward and sat down roughly on the captain’s chair. As he did, his gaze went to the dashboard, where he noticed the lights were off.

“It’s not just the lift,” he said. “The engine shut off. We’ve lost power.”

“Well, get it back on, Pop,” Curtis said. “We have to stop this wild rocking.”

Before John could do that, the wind whipped the lift arm again and flung the heavy net against the hull. Curtis was flung to the deck again, and John hit the dashboard and rebounded back into the seat. The lift gave a loud creak of metal, and John pushed off the steering wheel. He stepped out onto the deck as the boat rocked to port again.

“It’s breaking,” Curtis said. “The lift arm is breaking, Pop!”

John saw his son on his hands and knees behind the lift motor. The net was pressed up against the hull, but the arm itself was bent. The weight of the fish had actually folded the metal itself just above the gears. As John shuffled toward it, the metal creaked again, and the arm bent farther, the bottom of the net dipping down into the water.

“Cut it loose,” John shouted, waving his arms at his son. “We’re going to lose the whole lift, and it might tear the hull.”

“But…but all of those fish,” Curtis said sadly, pulling himself to his feet. As the boat rocked back to starboard, he pressed himself against the lift’s control panel. “Can’t we keep a few?”

“Cut it loose before we sink,” John said. “Hurry!”

Curtis reached down under the hem of his shirt and produced a small knife. A small rope was threaded through the ring pommel on the handle and attached to the sheath to keep from losing it in rough seas.

“Dad, that’s so many fish,” Curtis said. Even so, he leaned over the side of the boat, bracing himself against the lift arm. “Our biggest catch ever.” He sawed at the top ropes. With so much weight pulling on them, it didn’t take long before they gave way. Some ropes cut, others snapped, and the whole net unraveled. A mountain of fish poured back into the ocean, flailing and flopping as they raced to freedom.

The lift arm, now free of its weight, swung back over the deck. John reached out with the hook and caught it, pulling it all the way against the cabin wall. Then he held it in place while Curtis ducked under it and made his way to the aft deck.

“That was a damned shame,” Curtis grumbled. “I can’t believe we cut the net open. We’ll never have a better catch than that.”

“Yeah, but we’re safe,” John said. “All of those fish wouldn’t have done us much good if they’d ripped the side out of the boat.”

Even so, it was a bitter blow, and John bit back an urge to scold his son for…something. Not cutting the net loose sooner, perhaps. Messing with the lift motor, maybe. No, no, this was some freak electrical problem. It had nothing to do with Curtis. He pulled himself into the cabin, and Curtis soon followed, returning his knife to its sheath.

“At least the damned thing will stop rocking now,” John said. “I don’t know what killed the engine, but let’s get it started and head back.”

“Man, what a waste of a day,” Curtis said with a sigh, dropping into one of the passenger seats. “If we’d moved just a little faster getting that net on deck, the fish would be down in the hold by now.”

“It was a heavy load,” John replied. “For all we know, the weight strained the motor and burned it out. We could’ve thrown back half those fish and been just fine. Just stop thinking about it.”

He turned the ignition, but the engine didn’t respond. Angry, he banged the side of the dashboard. Then he turned it again. Nothing. No response at all. Just then, thunder rumbled in the distance, and he heard the first drops of rain on the cabin ceiling.

“Storm’s here,” Curtis said.

“Yeah, I hear it,” John replied. “I hear it.”

He gave the ignition another turn, to no avail. Cursing, he smacked the steering wheel and turned to his son. The waters were getting rough, and the rain was growing. He could see sheets of it coming down in the distance, as dark clouds filled the sky. Oh, yeah, this was going to be a gully washer, for sure.

“Curtis, check the generator, would you?” John said.

Curtis groaned as he rose from his seat. The generator was accessed by a hatch at the back of the cabin. Curtis stooped down behind the passenger seats to access it. The waves were slapping against the starboard side of the boat now, and the rain began pouring in at an angle. That brought it through the gaps in the cabin. It was cold against John’s face.

“Pop, the generator’s busted or something,” Curtis said after a moment. “It won’t start.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure,” Curtis responded. “I hit the starter ten times. There’s fuel in it, but it won’t start. Maybe it fried like the lift.”

“What is going on here?” John muttered, turning back toward the dashboard. He eyed the radio hanging from its Velcro nest. “We’re not sitting out here in a dead ship with this storm coming in. I’m calling a mayday.”

“Oh, gosh,” Curtis said, rising from behind the seats. “We’re getting hauled in by the Coast Guard? This is crazy. I don’t understand why everything went belly up. Was it something we did?”

“No idea,” John replied. “The boat was in fine shape this morning. We burned something out, I guess. But I’m getting us home.”

He picked up the radio. It was battery operated, and the batteries were rechargeable. He noticed that the small red power light wasn’t on, so he twisted the knob. The light stayed dark. He pressed the talk button a few times, twisted the knob off and on, but nothing happened. The radio didn’t respond. It was as dead as the generator.

Now, John’s heart was racing. This had gone from frustrating to alarming. “How the heck did the radio die?” He turned and held it up for Curtis to see. “It’s not even wired into the boat.”

“The motor, the generator, now the radio,” Curtis said, eyes wide. “Pop, this is crazy. What’s going on?”

“I don’t…I can’t…” He gave the radio’s power knob a final twist, then let it fall from his hand into the captain’s seat. “This makes no sense.”

Far behind the boat, he saw a great gathering of water. A large wave was bearing down on them, driven by the rising wind and chased by a hazy curtain of fierce rain. He reached down and grabbed the sides of the chair.

“Brace yourself, son,” he cried.

Curtis looked over his shoulder, saw the wave, and wrapped his arms around the nearest passenger seat. Just then, the wave hit, slamming into the stern of the boat and washing over the deck. A wall of water surged into the cabin and swept John’s feet out from under him. He tightened his grip on the chair. As the wave passed through, he heard a loud crack and crunch, then the brief sound of a chain rattling against the hull.

The wave passed, water flowing over the sides. Still afloat. We’re still afloat, John thought, as he regained his feet. He turned to see what had broken, scanning the boat outside the cabin for signs of damage. It didn’t take long to see it. Pushing away from the chair, he went to the windshield and peered down at a spot near the front of the ship. The winch for the boat anchor was bent to one side, ripped partially loose from the deck. The chain was missing.

“What did we lose?” Curtis asked.

“The anchor,” he said over his shoulder. “We lost the anchor.”

To this, Curtis gave only a deep, shaky breath. Without the anchor and without power, they were now truly at the mercy of the waves and the wind. And the wind was howling.

“We’re in big trouble,” he muttered.

11

Ruth spent a cold night half-sleeping in her quarters. Watching the shoreline burn had put a damper on her efforts to get the new system up and running. They’d stood at the railing watching the horizon glow for a good hour or more, discussing the possibilities. By the time they’d finally run out of things to say, she’d found herself near exhaustion.

Well, this is certainly not how I expected the first day on board to go. That was her last thought before drifting off to sleep. And to think, I was so excited before I boarded the chopper yesterday.

She awoke in the flickering candlelight to a cold room and a hard bed. At first, she tried to bury herself deeper under her covers, seeking more warmth, but the bed only had a single low-thread-count sheet and a thin wool cover. It wasn’t enough. Finally, she threw the cover back and sat up. Stella was snoring softly from the bed on the other side of the room.

Ruth had slept in her clothes, removing only her jacket, shoes, and socks. It just hadn’t seemed worth the effort, especially with no warm water. She pulled on her socks and shoes and stood up. As she did, Stella snorted suddenly and rolled onto her back.

“Gran,” she said sleepily, “where are you going?”

“The gray light through the tiny window kind of feels like morning,” Ruth replied. “I’m going outside to check and make sure. I can’t sleep any longer.”

She grabbed her jacket off the back of a chair and pulled it on. As she did, Stella sat up, yawned loudly, and shuddered. “It’s so cold in here,” she said. “I hope the storm has passed.”

“Let’s go find out,” Ruth said. “Then we’ll get some breakfast.”

“I’m not sure I can eat,” Stella said, pulling on her own socks and boots. “I sort of lost my appetite watching the glowing horizon.”

“You have to eat,” Ruth said. “Whether you have an appetite or not. We need to make the most of the frozen food before it spoils.”

As she walked toward the door, Bestie rose from her spot on the floor. For some reason, in the absence of most of the workers, the dog had taken a shine to them, and she’d been gently insistent upon sharing their room. Ruth had fed her a few scraps from dinner, and she’d settled in for the night without complaint. The dog seemed the least troubled by all of the strange events that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Then again, she was a chocolate Lab living on an oil platform in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico. Her life was unusual anyway.

They stepped out into the cold hallway, where at least a bit of light was coming in through exterior windows. Ruth saw the row of mostly featureless doors stretching off in both directions. It was quiet at the moment, but the quality of the light through the windows was gray and cloudy. They weren’t in the clear yet.

She made her way down the hall and around the corner, through the empty rec room. The oil platform schematics were still spread out across the card tables. Around the corner, they passed the cafeteria. No one was in there either.

“It’s like we’re the only people left,” Stella said. “What if they all left somehow in the middle of the night?”

“I doubt it,” Ruth replied.

“They could have taken the other lifeboat,” Stella said.

“But they didn’t. They wouldn’t. Not without telling us.”

They finally reached the exterior door. Ruth zipped up her coat, pulled up her hood, and opened the door. She stepped outside into a chill wind. It wasn’t blowing as hard, at least. The sky was still cloudy, but there were breaks in the clouds. The sun, which was lying low to the east, sat in a gap, casting its long orange rays across the rough surface of the ocean.

“The storm broke,” Stella said, following her outside.

“That’s a good sign,” Ruth replied. “Come on.”

She beckoned her granddaughter and stepped onto the platform, moving toward the handrail. She could feel the first warmth of morning cutting through the cold. As she neared the edge, she spotted a lone figure off to her right. He was sitting near the handrail, cross-legged and comfortable, a small thermos in one hand.

“Parker,” she said, approaching him.

He held up the thermos. “Lukewarm coffee just isn’t the same,” he said. “I don’t know what it is. Tastes like dirty water.”

“Sorry to hear you’re having a disappointing time with your coffee.” Ruth smiled, leaning on the handrail beside him. She stared at the shoreline, watching the smoke from the fires, which continued to burn. “I don’t suppose there’s been anything new this morning.”

“Well, the workers still haven’t found Clark,” he said. “But that’s not really new, is it? On the other hand…” Parker pointed off to his right. “That’s new. I’ve been watching those guys for the last hour or so.”

Ruth looked in the direction he was pointing and finally spotted a small blue and white boat down below. It was clearly at the mercy of the waves, crashing about, spinning, turning this way and that. There were two men in the cabin, one at the helm, the other pointing toward the oil platform. Stella spotted them now and gasped.

“They’re in trouble!” she said.

“No sails,” Ruth noted. “Looks like they have no power either. I wonder how long they’ve been floating out there.”

“Well, they’re headed right toward us,” Parker said. He pushed his hood back and stood up. His black hair was in disarray, and he swept it back with his free hand as best he could. Then he ran his gloved hand down his beard.

The boat was being pushed in the direction of the oil platform, and Ruth thought its current trajectory would ram it into one of the platform’s support legs. The two men on board were clearly trying to change course, but it was making little difference. They also seemed to be arguing, though she couldn’t hear their voices from this distance.

“What are we going to do?” Stella asked. “We can’t just watch them crash and drown before our eyes…”

As they got closer, Ruth realized they were moving a lot faster than she’d first thought. The boat was going to slam into one of the support posts, and at that speed, it would do some damage for sure. She looked at Parker, and he shrugged.

“I don’t think we can prevent the collision,” he said, “but I guess we could pluck them out of the water.”

“It’s about forty feet from the platform to the water,” Ruth noted. “Do you think we could rig the lifeboat lift to reach them somehow?”

The answer to her question was clear. The lift arm was only long enough to reach out over the platform far enough to lower the boats, but these newcomers were headed for a support post at the far southeast corner of the platform.

“They would have to swim over here,” Parker said. “In rough water like that, it’s probably not a good idea.”

“But we have to do something,” Stella said.

Ruth leaned over the railing to watch the boat as it passed beneath the other edge of the platform’s far corner. She wasn’t just worried about the boat or the men. The collision could damage the support post itself. It wasn’t a solid post. A hollow space inside contained cables for the new system, connecting the sensors on the ocean floor with the console in the control room.

“I don’t suppose there’s some way we can change their course,” she muttered.

“I doubt it,” Parker replied.

And just then, it became a moot point. The small fishing boat slammed into the support post on the port side. The impact was hard, the hull slamming against the corner of the support post. A loud shudder went up the post, and Ruth thought she felt it against the soles of her feet. The men on the boat were now shouting so loudly that she could make out the sound.

“We’ve got to help them!” Stella said, her voice rising. She grabbed Ruth’s sleeve in both of her hands and pulled hard. “Let’s at least throw them life preservers.”

“I’m sure a boat like that already has life preservers,” Parker noted. “The boat was damaged but not destroyed. I don’t think they’ll sink right away, but they might be stuck.”

Ruth extracted her granddaughter’s hands. “Okay, well, we’d better figure out a way to get those men out of the water. I take it you’ve got plenty of rope in the supplies somewhere? Could we make a crude pulley system?”

Parker scratched his beard and nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Come on. Let’s go round stuff up.”

He took one last lingering look at the crashed boat, then headed for the door. Ruth turned to Stella.

“Keep an eye on the boat,” she said. “Parker and I will go and get supplies to pull those men onto the platform. We’re not going to leave them stranded.”

“Okay.” Stella grabbed the handrail with both hands.

On her way to the door, Ruth saw Kay and Jorge arriving. They were heading outside, and she directed them toward the place where Stella was standing.

“What is it now?” Kay said.

“More trouble,” Ruth replied, before heading inside and following Parker down the hall.

12

Ruth was concerned that they might return to find that the men were already gone. Despite Parker’s belief that the boat wasn’t severely damaged, she wasn’t so sure. And if the men drowned, it would hurt morale even more. The mysterious disappearance of Clark had already disturbed her deeply.

“Do you suppose they were fleeing the fire?” Parker said over his shoulder. He was leading her down the hallway, past the cafeteria. “Maybe they were in a hurry and forgot to refuel.”

“It looked like a boat that was dead in the water to me,” Ruth replied. And had they lost power just like the oil platform? That was a troubling thought.

Parker led her to a door near the rec room that opened on a large supply closet Ruth hadn’t seen before. Inside were rows of shelves covered in tools and supplies. Other supplies were stacked in piles on the floor. It was a musty room, and dust motes danced in the flashlight beam. Parker led her to a back corner, where a number of lengths of ropes had been coiled up.

“Grab that handcart, would you?” he asked, pointing behind her.

Turning, Ruth found a large handcart with a rubberized handle. It already had some junk piled on it, but she quickly removed this with the side of her shoe. Then she pushed the cart toward Parker. He stacked some long coils of sturdy rope onto the handcart, then began rooting around on the shelves.

“You know,” he said, “if we’re lucky, these guys will have a hold full of fish.”

“You don’t think they would’ve emptied their hold when the storm started whipping them around?” Ruth said, adjusting the coils of rope to make room for the tools Parker handed her. “Seems like they would have a bit more control of the boat that way.”

“I can hope,” Parker said. He began setting what appeared to be large black pieces of a pulley system onto the handcart. One of the pulleys already had a length of rope wound through it and knotted. Parker fished a pocketknife out of his jacket and opened it—a black rubberized handle with a black blade. He quickly cut the knotted rope and cast it aside, then tossed the pulley onto the handcart. When he noticed her looking at the knife, he held it up.

“A Smith & Wesson Velocite folding knife,” he said. “It was a birthday present from my brother.” He folded the knife shut and slid it back into his pocket. “Anyway, I think this should do the trick. We just need to figure out how to hook up a pulley system to bring those guys up from the water.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” she replied. “I think at least one of us should descend to the boat. We need to check out the damage to the support post.”

“One of us?” he said, giving her a wry smile.

She laughed. “I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure? I shimmied down the lift arm like a pro.”

“I’d like to check on that support post,” Ruth said looking around at their growing pile. “Do you think there’s a way to lower me safely with this stuff here?”

Parker seemed to consider this. “Yeah, we can figure out a way to do it safely, I’m sure, if we put our minds together.”

They pushed the handcart back down the hallway and outside, where they found Kay, Jorge, and Stella lined up along the handrail and gazing down at the water. The boat was indeed lodged against the support post, and the two men were on the foredeck now. They had spotted the people up on the platform, but they seemed at a loss as to what to do.

“This is a mess,” Kay noted, as Ruth pushed the handcart past them. “We can’t afford to pick up any more strays.”

“Well, we’re not leaving them down there,” Ruth said in passing. “Anyway, we could use the help.”

“We’ll run out of provisions faster,” Kay said.

“Well, if they help us get the power back on, the food won’t spoil, and there’ll be plenty to go around,” Ruth said. “What’s the alternative? Leave them down there all alone until they sink or die of thirst?”

Jorge and Stella fell in line. Kay hesitated a moment and seemed as though she wanted to say something else, but finally, she came after them as well. They headed for the narrow ramp that would take them down to the lower platform beneath the one they were standing on. This platform was smaller, nestled in among the structural supports for the oil platform. Parker and Ruth managed to wrestle the heavy handcart down without losing control.

The lower platform was cluttered and harder to navigate, with angled beams creating a crude maze. When they reached the northeast corner, they could see straight down thirty feet to the boat. Father and son. That’s what Ruth thought now. The men looked very similar, but one was clearly a couple of decades older than the other, a pleasant looking fellow with broad shoulders. The older gentleman waved up at them.

“Hey, up there,” he shouted. His voice was still fairly hard to hear beneath the roar of waves and wind. “Sorry we ran into your oil platform. I don’t suppose you could help us out.”

“It’s been a heck of a night,” the younger man shouted.

Ruth returned the wave. “We’re working on it,” she said. “Hang on.”

She turned to Parker and nodded, and he began to unload the ropes from the handcart.

“What’s the plan here?” Kay asked, looking at all the supplies.

“We need a pulley system that can get those men up to the rig.”

Kay made a non-committal grunt as she looked everything over. “Best bet, I think, will be to secure the pulley system to this beam here, rather than the railing. That way it can handle more weight.”

Ruth nodded. “That sounds like a plan.”

In the end, it took all of them working together to figure out a pulley system that would operate safely enough to reach the boat.. Kay had a lot of input, and Parker had a few good ideas. Ruth contributed much to the design, and Stella even had some ideas for keeping the whole thing secure using the least amount of resources. They attached the pulley system to one of the diagonal crossbeams, then set another pulley against the sturdiest part of the handrail to keep the rope from rubbing against it. A crude lift was fashioned using the handcart itself. They removed the handle, threading ropes through the frame beneath the cart, then fed the ropes through the pulleys.

This turned the cart into a kind of crude elevator, which could be raised and lowered by carefully guiding the ropes through the pulleys. Parker, Kay, and Jorge volunteered to guide the ropes, while Ruth went below.

“Gran, are you sure about this?” Stella asked, as Ruth stepped over the handrail and onto the handcart.

“I’m not so old that I can’t handle this.” Ruth smiled. “Stay here and keep an eye on things. When I need to come up, I’ll signal you.”

Ruth grabbed the ropes in either hand and spread her feet apart on the handcart, trying to maintain her balance as best she could. The ropes were sturdy and thick, but the handcart felt unstable, as if it might flip to one side unless she centered her weight.

This might not be my brightest idea, she thought. Even so, she gave Parker a thumbs-up, and the rope crew slowly lowered the handcart from the railing.

As soon as she was beneath the platform and dangling in open air, Ruth’s stomach lurched, and she shut her eyes. The wind was blowing hard beneath the platform, and she felt the handcart swaying. The ropes, at least, felt sturdy. When she dared to open her eyes again, she saw the enormous concrete supports for the oil platforms rising like strange trees from the ocean. She was very close to one of them. She could have reached out and touched it if she’d dared.

“Hold on, Gran.” That was Stella, shouting from above.

Finally, the boat came into view. It was lodged up against a corner of the support port and locked in place, the broken hull deep-kissing the concrete corner. The boat was listing slightly to one side, though it didn’t seem to be taking on water. The men standing on the deck were thoroughly soaked and seemed exhausted. The older man had dark half-circles under his eyes, and his eyes were glazed over, as if he were struggling to stay awake.

An old beat-up baseball cap sat at an angle on his head. He came toward her, reaching out to steady one of the ropes as the handcart touched down on the deck.

“Oh, my gosh, ma’am,” he said with a deep-seated sigh. “Are we ever glad to see you! You’re the biggest breath of fresh air we’ve had in almost twelve hours.”

She had scarcely stepped down from the makeshift elevator before he thrust one callused hand at her. She shook it briefly.

“The name’s John,” he said. “This is my son, Curtis.”

The younger man leaned to one side and gave Ruth a half-hearted, weary wave.

“I thought we were goners,” Curtis said. “We were headed out to sea to drift forever.”

“Are either of you injured?” Ruth asked. She held the ropes for the elevator to keep it from banging into the nearby cabin wall.

John and Curtis glanced at each other and shrugged. “Nothing serious,” John said after a moment. “A few bumps and bruises. Mostly, we’re just tired.”

“I smacked my head pretty good during a fall in the middle of the night,” Curtis said, touching the edge of his baseball cap. “I haven’t looked at it yet. It still hurts a little bit.”

“Okay, we’ll take a look at it topside,” Ruth said. She considered the small handcart platform. Although they might be able to squeeze all three onto that small space, it made her nervous. “Okay, look, I’ll take one at a time. Who’s going first?”

John pointed at the younger man. “Take my son.”

“Great. Why don’t you grab anything you need from the boat. I need to take a look at the support post, to check for damage.”

John nodded. “Sounds good.”

But instead of grabbing anything the way that his son did, he followed after her.

At the support post, though, she was pleased to see that there didn’t appear to be much damage at all. “Didn’t even break through the concrete shell.”

She meant to be talking to herself, but John responded. “That’s good, right? I’d feel terrible if we damaged your oil platform.”

She nodded. “Yeah, that’s good. But your boat is wedged tight against this support. I don’t think it’s going to be going anywhere for a while. Also, it’s not my oil platform. I’m just a visiting scientist.”

“Wow. You must really know your stuff then!”

She looked over at him. He was a pleasant-looking fellow, with broad shoulders and strong arms, a well-chiseled face. She smiled. “I try.”

“All right,” Curtis said, meeting them back over at the elevator. “I got anything that’s important.”

“Well, then. Let’s get back up to safety.” Ruth motioned him to one corner of the cart. She figured their best bet at keeping it balanced was to stand at opposing corners.

Ruth stepped back onto the swaying cart, positioning herself opposite Curtis. Then she looked up, spotted Stella leaning over the handrail, and gave her a thumbs-up. After a few seconds, the cart began to rise.

Here we go again, Ruth thought, her stomach twisting. She grabbed the nearest rope in both hands. “Hold on tight, Curtis. It’s a scary ride.”

“Not as scary as being on that boat in the pitch-dark last night,” he replied.

“I can imagine,” Ruth said.

The young man hunkered down, as they rose above the boat. If not for their precarious situation, she might have found the view quite lovely. A vast expanse of rolling waves, shifting between orange and gray-blue in the morning sunlight. Looking toward the coast, she could see the glow from the fires on the mainland and even in this light, it looked like there were more of them.

Finally, they made it to the handrail, and she reached out to grab it, even as Stella grabbed the pulley rope from above.

“Be very careful stepping over,” Ruth said to Curtis.

“Oh, gosh,” Curtis said in a breathy voice. He grabbed the handrail now and slowly, very slowly, pulled himself over. Instead of stepping over the handrail, he slid over the top on his chest and belly, then collapsed onto the platform on the other side with a huff. And then he just huddled there, his head practically touching the floor as Ruth climbed over behind him.

“You guys have any idea how dark it is on a boat at night in the middle of the ocean when the lights don’t work?” Curtis said. “The middle of the ocean at midnight under a cloudy sky, that’s the darkest place you’ll ever see in your life.”

Bestie seemed excited to have a new visitor, especially one down at her level, and she wasted no time licking Curtis’s face.

“We have some idea, yes,” Kay said. “The power doesn’t work here either.”

Curtis’s head whipped up, and he gently pushed Bestie away. “Are you serious?”

“Almost all of the electronic equipment went dead yesterday,” Stella said. “Including the generators and backup generators. You picked a bad day to crash into us”

“What the heck’s gone wrong with the world?” Curtis said.

“You didn’t see the lights on the horizon last night?” Stella asked. “There was a fire on the mainland.”

“We saw some kind of faint glow for a while,” Curtis replied. “I thought it was the city, but we couldn’t move toward it. The waves just kept battering us. What a long night!” He pulled his baseball cap off and ran his fingers through his hair. When he did, Ruth saw blood in his hair.

“You’re bleeding,” she noted.

He pulled his hand away and looked at the blood on his fingers. “Oh, crap, I guess I hit my head worse than I realized. I wonder how long it’s been bleeding. The adrenaline and fear sort of make you not notice.”

“You’ll want to get that taken care of,” she said.

Ruth made eye contact with Parker. He was still holding the ropes, along with Kay and Jorge. She held up a finger to say, “One more,” then stepped back into the handcart.

And with that, the makeshift platform began its precarious descent again. When she reached the deck, John climbed up onto the handcart with no hesitation, stood where she motioned for him to stand, and remained there with a stoic expression as they went back up.

Finally, they reached the platform again. Curtis was standing up now, rubbing at the cut on the back of his head. Ruth thought it was perhaps a little worse than she’d first realized.

“You guys didn’t happen to have a hold full of fish down there, did you?” Parker asked.

The question made John groan and smack his forehead. “You had to ask. We lost our catch. Had to cut it loose when everything went crazy.”

“We lost everything,” Curtis added. “So many fish.”

Ruth and Stella guided the crude lift back onto the platform as Parker and the others rushed to meet them. Ruth noted that her legs were sort of shaky and her stomach hadn’t fully recovered.

Let’s not do that again anytime soon, she thought.

“Shame about the fish, guys, but welcome aboard,” Parker said, extending a hand to John first, then Curtis. “I wish it were under better circumstances. Things aren’t much easier here than on your boat.”

“At least the waves aren’t pushing you around,” John said.

Ruth laid a hand on the younger man’s back. “Curtis, we have to deal with that wound. Kay, can you lead us to the first aid station?”

Kay held up her hands. Clearly, she was resigned to the situation, if not entirely happy to have these newcomers on board. “Yeah, sure, come on.” She beckoned them and headed back toward the ramp to the upper platform. Bestie fell in step beside her, wagging her tail and looking up at Kay with a smile on her face.

John and Curtis quickly fell in beside Ruth, sticking very close to her. As they headed up the ramp into the metal vastness of the oil platform, they seemed to take comfort in the presence of their rescuer. Ruth found that strange and somewhat amusing. “Well, gentlemen, I’m sorry to say, you’re stuck on the oil platform with us for a while,” she said. “With no power, we’re not able to call for help. I don’t know how long this trouble is going to last.”

John and Curtis glanced at each other, and something unsaid seemed to pass between them. Whatever it was, they didn’t say it out loud.

13

The first aid station turned out to be a very small examination room near Clark’s office. It was close enough that the scent of candles was present, even with the door closed. The small room had an eye-washing station, a cabinet with some first aid supplies, an examination table, and a couple of chairs. Everyone had crowded into the room. Curtis was sitting on the edge of the examination table, his head bowed, while his father took one of the chairs. Both of the men were absolutely soaked and now shivering.

Ruth and Kay tended to the younger man’s wound, combing through his hair to reveal a half-inch gash. Kay pulled a knife out of her pocket to help cut the bandages to length. When Ruth raised her eyebrow at it, she replied, “Most people on the platform carry a knife of some sort. You never know when you need one.”

Ruth reached into her own pocket and pulled out her personal knife. “You never know when you need to dig through some rocks.”

Kay nodded, appreciatively. Then, while Kay cleaned the wound, Stella found a couple of thin emergency blankets and unfolded them, handing one to each man.

“These should help keep you warm,” she said.

“We’ll get you some fresh water and decent food once we’ve dealt with the injury,” Ruth added.

Jorge and Parker stood near the door. Bestie stood in front of Curtis, pushing her head into his lap so he would rub her ears.

“So, what happened to your boat?” Kay asked, swabbing the area around the wound. “Did the power suddenly go out, or was there any kind of noticeable event beforehand?”

“Well, I don’t think it was the storm,” John replied. He was hunched over in his seat, holding the thin, shiny blanket tightly shut at his throat. “The rain had just started to fall when it happened. We were hauling in a heavy load of fish when all of a sudden the lift motor cut out. It crossed my mind that we might’ve burned it out, but that wouldn’t account for the generator not working, or the radio, or anything else on that boat.”

Curtis sucked in his breath as Kay rubbed some antibacterial ointment over his wound, but then he added, “Something fried all of the electronics. Something unnatural.”

“How is that possible?” Jorge muttered from the door.

John sat up then, the blanket crinkling. “It was the same thing that knocked out power on your platform here, and I think we all know what that would be.”

“We do?” Kay asked. She grabbed a small tube of superglue and used it to seal shut his wound. Stella handed her a bandage, which she then pressed to his head.

“Well, I’m no expert, but I’ve done my fair share of reading,” John said. “Heck, I heard them say it over the radio before the power cut out, but I didn’t put the pieces together right away.”

Kay stopped working and turned to face him. Everyone was staring fixedly at John now, except for Ruth. She already knew what he was going to say. It was surprising to discover that someone had mentioned it over the radio, but there was really only one possible cause for their current dilemma.

“It was an EMP,” John said. “Electromagnetic pulse. It’s a kind of weapon, if I recall. You set it off in the upper atmosphere, and it fries all the electronics in the area. That’s what this is. They said it on the radio. I heard it just before the motor cut out.”

Kay cursed, and Jorge raised a trembling hand to his lips. Parker scowled and crossed his arms over his chest, but Ruth heard her granddaughter mutter, “I knew it.” As for Ruth, she felt a sinking feeling in her chest. She glanced at Stella and gave her a small nod.

“What else did they say on the radio?” Parker asked, stepping into the room.

“Not much,” John replied. “It was some kind of emergency report. Not sure who it came from. They said there were threats coming from a terrorist organization. It cut out pretty quick, and then we lost power.”

“And then things go really bad,” Curtis added, reaching up to touch the edge of his bandage.

Kay smacked his hand. “Leave it alone. Let it heal.”

“I’m sorry,” John said, standing up. “I’ll answer whatever questions you’ve got, but could I get something to drink? You wouldn’t think being on the ocean all night, surrounded by so much water, would leave you so parched, but my throat is like sandpaper.”

“Follow me, buddy,” Parker said, beckoning him. “We’ve got you covered. There are drinks down in our fancy cafeteria.”

He turned and led the fishermen out of the room. Stella stepped to one side to let them pass, then she fell in line. Ruth, Jorge, and Kay brought up the rear. Ruth had dismissed talk about terrorists, but she could no longer deny how readily the pieces fit together. As they walked the dim hallway, chasing Parker’s flashlight beam, Ruth couldn’t help glancing through the open doorway into Clark’s office in passing. Candles were still lined up on the edge of his desk. Where had the boss gone? How had the man just vanished into thin air? How did that piece fit into all of this?

They made their way back to the cafeteria. Candles had been left on one of the tables, along with a pile of snacks and a few water bottles. Ruth had considered locking all of the food and water in a closet or storage room, just in case they needed to dole it out more carefully, but she was afraid to broach that subject.

Still, it will have to be done if this goes on much longer, she thought. Maybe Kay or Parker can break the news to the workers. They might take it better from one of their own.

Parker led John and Curtis to the table as if he were the host at a nice restaurant. Once they were seated, he gave each of them a bottle of water, then gestured dramatically to a pile of energy bars, candy, potato chips, and snack cakes.

“Help yourselves, gents,” he said. “Just don’t overdo it. Good supplies are not limitless, especially with no refrigeration or freezers. We’re planning on cooking a larger meal tonight, to try and use up some of the perishables.”

Kay and Jorge sat across from the newcomers at the table, but Stella seemed content to pace. Ruth didn’t feel much like sitting either, so she stood at the head of the table as the newcomers gulped water. She gave them a moment before intruding.

“Okay, so what did the person on the radio say about the terrorist attack?” she asked finally. “We need to know everything.”

“There’s not much to tell,” John replied. The silver blanket was still draped over his shoulder. He’d tucked two corners beneath the high collar of his shirt, and he clutched the half-empty water bottle in both hands. “It was a short broadcast. They mentioned a threat from some terrorist organization, and then I heard the words ‘EMP attack,’ and like I said, that was about it.”

Parker tried to hand the man a Snickers candy bar, but John shook his head and waved it away. He offered it to Curtis instead, and the younger man happily accepted it.

“I know the group he’s talking about,” Stella said. Realizing she’d spoken far too loudly, she glanced at Ruth, grimaced, and took a step back. “I told Gran about it on the flight. AI-Led Society. AILS. That’s their name.”

John nodded and pointed at her. “Yeah, that’s right. I remember it now. AILS. They’ve been mentioned in the news a few times, but I confess, I don’t know anything about them. Seems like some kind of cult.”

“But not a religious cult,” Stella said. “More like a technocratic extremist group.”

“Now, there’s a mouthful,” Curtis said, shaking his head before taking a huge bite of the Snickers bar.

“Well…” Ruth sighed. “It seems the threats were real.” She turned to her granddaughter again and gave her an apologetic shrug. “Sorry I was so dismissive when you brought it up before. It just never seemed to me that a group like that could hit us with something so big. I think I’ve been in denial about the cause, even as the evidence mounted, but we can’t ignore it anymore.”

“Nothing to apologize for, Gran.” Stella smiled. “Who would’ve thought their threats would actually come to something like this?” She waved her arm, gesturing at everything around them.

Parker was furiously scratching his beard and Jorge restlessly tapping a foot beneath the table so that his whole body shook. Kay was drumming her fingers on the tabletop, and even Bestie was panting louder than usual.

“So they did it,” John said, then took another long swig from the bottle of water. “They unleashed their attack, just like the media said they would, and that means there might be more attacks in the future. Another EMP. Maybe they’ll hit a bigger area this time.”

“The lights on the horizon last night,” Stella added. “The fire. The cities are burning. It must be connected.”

“They’re really doing it, by God,” Jorge muttered. “Bringing down civilization.”

As the words sank in, the room grew quiet. No one ate or drank for a while. Restless feet ceased tapping. Bestie even settled down and stopped her panting. Ruth reached over and laid a gentle hand on the dog’s back, needing the comfort more than wanting to give it. Gradually, as the silence stretched on, she realized that people were beginning to look at her. First Stella. Then Parker and Jorge. Then the newcomers. Finally, Kay.

I guess I’m in charge, after all, she thought. They want me to tell them what to do next.

“Well, okay, then,” she said with a sigh, trying to shake off the anxiety. “No sense worrying about future attacks. The fact of the matter is, with an EMP attack, we can be sure no one’s going to mount a rescue any time soon. Let’s hope the other workers made it safely ashore and managed to avoid the fire, but they won’t be able to send help. That means we’ll have to take things into our own hands.”

“Is there actually anything we can do?” Kay said with a bitter laugh. “Other than just sort of hunkering down here and waiting for the world to end?”

“We’re not doing that,” Ruth said. “Let’s focus on getting the control room equipment up and running. The new system was shielded from the EMP, it seems, thanks to the design of the control room. If we can get it running, we can try to get some other systems up and running in a way that will support us long term. This oil platform is pretty much a floating city. If we can get even parts of this place up and running, well. It would be a safer place to remain than on the shore with those fires, I think.”

“And maybe you could get some news from the outside world,” John said, then polished off the last of his water.

“Maybe so,” Ruth replied.

“So how do we get the system up and running?” Kay asked.

“That’s mostly going to be on me,” Ruth replied. “I think perhaps we should finish the work we began yesterday. So we don’t have to run around the oil platform constantly, why don’t we finish the inventory we started. We have the tool room that can be a central hub for stuff like that. And maybe the rest of the supplies can be moved to a central location. That way, we’re not running around in the dark trying to track down what we need.”

“We can use the control room,” Parker suggested.

“Okay, then…” Ruth spread her hands wide. “Kay, you’re still in charge of the pressure situation. How’s that going, by the way?”

“She gave a small shrug. “It’s going. We still have no idea what’s causing it, but, well, we’ve managed to slow its gain. I’ve got to check in with the crew, see where we’re at since this morning.”

“Got it. Please keep me in the loop.”

Kay gave her a sarcastic salute.

“The rest of us should be working on the inventory and checking on the platform for damage from the storm, now that we can see better out there.” She turned to John and Curtis. “You two should probably rest for a while. We’ll show you to the living quarters.”

“That would be great, actually.” His water bottle was empty, and John crumpled it loudly between his hands. “Even a few hours of sleep will help us get our heads on straighter, and then we can lend a hand.”

Ruth nodded. “Sounds good. And actually, when you’re done resting, maybe the two of you could work on making a communal sleeping area here in the cafeteria.”

“Wait, what? Why would we want to all sleep in the same room?” Kay scoffed at the idea.

“So we can keep track of one another. I don’t want to have another person go missing like Clark. And, if we do get some of the rig back up and running, it will be easier to power smaller spaces like this room, instead of all the sleeping quarters.”

Kay grumbled, but finally agreed.

Ruth stepped back from the table. “Well, then…” She looked at each person around the table, and then her gaze settled on Kay once again. “I think we’re ready to get to it.”

Stella and Bestie both started to follow her, but she turned to her granddaughter and gently grabbed her arm. “Stella, could you help the others gather up supplies?”

“I was going to help you,” Stella said.

“No, not right now. I just…I just need space to think about our next steps,” she said. “Stay close to Kay or Parker.” She patted Stella, then headed off across the cafeteria. Her gut felt like it was all twisted up. Honestly, she desperately needed to be able to think without the distraction of other people for a while. No rescue was coming, and the situation on land might be even worse than on the oil platform. What were they supposed to do?

She got near the door before she noticed the clicking of claws on the hard floor. Bestie was still following her. She thought about trying to send the dog back, but somehow the gentle dog’s presence was comforting. And right now, Ruth really needed a bit of comfort.

14

The dim stillness of the control room helped, especially since Ruth didn’t have to worry about comforting, encouraging, or talking to anyone else. She was completely alone with her thoughts, for which she was grateful. Not that it did her much good. Even if she got the oil platform up and running again, they would still be in danger, it seemed.

She’d managed to pull the new console away from the wall and turn it, which gave her access to the back panel and the guts of the new system. The generator was a problem. It wouldn’t stay running. Then again, even if she figured out how to keep it running, she wasn’t sure how to hook the generator up to the console. The console was designed to be hard-wired into the wall. It didn’t have a simple plug that she could just plug into the generator. She’d had to jury-rig equipment out in the field before, but this was a bit outside her expertise.

At the moment, she was making a mental map of the wiring inside the console as Bestie sat beside her. The sweet Lab was just about the quietest dog she’d ever met. She paused in her work from time to time to pet her.

After a good hour or so of planning, she’d come up with a plan for scavenging a plug from the older computer and rewiring it, and she’d figured out which wires to strip and connect. She was rooting through the toolbox for a wire stripper when she heard the control room door creak as it swung open. Turning, she saw Kay standing in the doorway. The woman had a body shaped like a cinder block, so she filled the doorframe. At the moment, she was sweating and scowling, her short hair glistening.

Bestie rose and trotted over to get some pets from her favorite person.

“How’s the pressure situation?” Ruth asked.

“Uh, well, problems are compounding,” Kay said, then let the comment hang in the air for a moment.

“What do you mean?”

Kay came into the room, glanced over her shoulder, then shut the door. “We’re missing another guy.”

Ruth took her hand out of the toolbox and rose, using the console to leverage herself back onto her weary feet. “How is that possible?”

“A roughneck named Dennis,” Kay said. “He wasn’t on the lifeboat. I know that for a fact. I went to check in with the crew dealing with the drill equipment and pressure, but he wasn’t with them. The guys down there said they hadn’t seen him.”

“Dennis,” Ruth said. “I don’t remember the name.”

“You didn’t talk to him,” Kay said. “He was in the rec room the day you showed up. Playing Monopoly, as I recall. And now he’s nowhere.”

“He never spoke to anyone?” Ruth said. “He just vanished?”

“I don’t know who he spoke to when or where,” Kay said. “I just know he didn’t get on that boat. He’s normally stationed down in the drill room, and I can’t find him anywhere.”

Ruth sighed. Just then, the door opened again, and Parker pushed his way into the room. Again, Bestie rose and sniffed the air. This time, she sat down again with a loud huff, as if she were tired of having to check on people entering the room.

“Did you find him?” Kay asked.

Parker shrugged. “Nope. He’s gone to Clark-land.” Clearly realizing his little joke was in bad taste, he gave Ruth an embarrassed half-smile. “I mean, to be fair, it’s not that big of a surprise that Dennis would turn up missing. Clark was a surprise, but Dennis has been written up for slacking so many times that I lost count.”

“What are you suggesting?” Kay replied, planting her hands on her hips.

“I’m suggesting that if anyone on this crew wanted to disappear so he didn’t have to do any work, it would be Dennis Cross,” Parker said. When Kay scowled at him, he added, “Am I wrong? He’s probably just hiding somewhere, waiting until all of this mess blows over.”

“If he was just going to hide, then why wouldn’t he have evacuated with everyone else?” Parker didn’t seem to have an answer for that, so he just shrugged.

Ruth leaned against the console, bowing her head. She really didn’t want to deal with this right now, but after all, she’d put herself in charge. This went with the territory. “I’m afraid we might not want to ignore the issue. It seems most likely that Clark fell overboard.”

“So what do we do?” Kay said.

Ruth groaned. “Okay, let’s get everyone together again, even John and Curtis and the guys down below. We need to have a group chat. We can’t have people wandering off.” She gestured at Kay, then Parker. “Go round up everyone you can find and bring them to the cafeteria.”

“Maybe we just have to stop people from going outside,” Parker said, backing into the hall. “You can’t fall over the handrail if you’re not outside.”

Kay lingered a second, scowling at the floor, before shaking her head and leaving.

If I had the system up and running, I could use the intercom to coordinate these kinds of things, Ruth thought. Another reason I have to get the new console up and running.

She worked a few more minutes, stripping wires and prepping the console, before heading off to the cafeteria. Bestie trotted along beside her. She got to the cafeteria just as everyone else filed in.

They all crowded around the table with the candles, food, and water. Ruth moved to the end of the table. Bestie began bumping against everyone in greeting, demanding pets and treats.

“So this is everyone?” Ruth said.

“This is everyone,” Kay replied. “Not counting Dennis, of course, but to be fair, we haven’t searched every closet and cabinet yet.”

Eleven people, including herself. Twelve if she counted Bestie. Not a large group by any means.

Ruth looked down the lines of sweaty, dirt-streaked faces. All eyes were on her. Stella was at the far end of the table, eyes wide.

“When is the last time any of you saw Dennis?” Ruth asked.

One of the workers raised a rough, callused hand. She thought her name was Margo. “Last night before the lifeboat left,” she said, in a coarse voice. “He was working down in the drill room with the rest of us. Then we went topside to watch the lifeboat leave, and no one saw him after that.”

“And we’re sure he didn’t get on the boat?” Ruth replied.

“He did not,” the worker said. Others echoed her.

“Okay.” Ruth bowed her head. “Well, I’m afraid our only option is to search every closet and every cabinet. Look, from now on, I don’t want anyone going off on their own. You’re in two teams, Parker’s and Kay’s, so stick with your team. Don’t wander off for any reason. Is that clear?”

She looked at every face. People nodded.

“Good.” She gestured at the group. “Parker, Kay, take your teams in different directions and search every single nook and cranny on this whole damned oil platform. Turn over every bucket and box. Open every drawer. Forget about the inventory and drill pressure for now. We’ll worry about that later.”

Parker gave her a little salute and rose, beckoning his team to follow him. Kay rose next, sighing deeply, and led Jorge and the rest of the workers out of the room. Once they were gone, Ruth lingered in the cafeteria. Finally, out of a deep need for distraction, she sat down and grabbed one of the energy bars off the stack. Bestie came over and sat down at her foot.

“This is a big, damned mess,” she said to the dog, tearing off the wrapper. She took a bite of the bar, then gave the rest of it to Bestie, who chomped it loudly, wagging her tail.

She was still sitting there about ten minutes later when she heard a ghostly shriek echo down the hall. It jolted her off her seat and made Bestie give a surprised bark. Turning, she tried to gauge the direction of the sound. It was coming from the direction of the rec room, she thought, and to her horror, she was pretty sure it was Stella.

Ruth raced across the cafeteria into the hallway. She was surprised to find that Bestie did not follow her. Instead, the dog stayed under a table in the cafeteria. Ruth thought she heard the dog whine a bit, clearly troubled by the noise. The shriek had become panicked sounds, voices, people shouting over each other. Ruth headed down the hall, moving as fast as she dared in the dim light, her flashlight beam swaying back and forth. When she got to the rec room, she found Parker’s group crowded around an open closet door.

“What is it?” Ruth asked, moving toward them. “Is Stella okay? Where is she?”

The group parted to reveal the small closet. Shelves contained board games, stacks of DVDs, and various pieces of electronic equipment, including old video players and game machines. Stella was standing just inside the closet, her hands pressed against either side of her face. She turned to face her grandmother. When she did, Ruth spotted the body at her feet.

“I found him,” Stella said. “I just opened the closet door and there he was.”

Ruth rushed to her granddaughter’s side and put an arm around her, gently pulling her out of the closet. The body on the floor was of a young man with a thick blondish beard and messy hair. He wore a tan jacket, dirty jeans, and workman’s leather boots. He had fallen forward, one hand stretched out before him, as if he were in the process of grabbing something off a shelf. When Ruth shone the light on him, she could tell by the color of his skin that he was dead.

“Is that him?” she asked, kneeling at the dead man’s feet.

“That’s Dennis,” Kay replied from behind her. The second group of workers had appeared, so now everyone was crammed into the rec room. “That’s Dennis Cross.”

As uncomfortable as it was, Ruth began examining the body. She felt for a pulse, checked his eyes, looked for signs of injury. There was no obvious indication of a cause of death. No wounds, no signs of trauma. It was as if he had just fallen down dead for no reason.

“Could it have been a heart attack?” Stella asked.

“He seems really young for that,” Ruth replied. “Unless he had some underlying condition, a congenital heart defect or something.”

“We get annual physicals,” Kay noted. “He bragged that he was healthy as a horse.”

Ruth looked over her shoulder at the troubled faces of the other workers.

“What was he doing in this closet?” Kay asked.

“Looks like maybe he was reaching for a board game or a DVD,” Parker replied.

“In a closet with the door closed,” Ruth noted. “How long has he been here, and how many times have people walked past this door without realizing it?”

She rolled the body over onto his back. The blood had settled in his body, so his face and throat were purple. One arm was curled beneath his chest, but it flopped down when she moved him. His eyes were open, as was his mouth. Ruth looked up and tried to track what he might have been reaching for, and contrary to the suggestion, it seemed to her like he hadn’t been grabbing at something on the shelves. Rather, he’d been reaching into a corner of the closet.

Ruth leaned to one side and then pulled out her flashlight and shined the light into the corner, where she spotted a small fuse box tucked into the wall. The metal door was open.

“Looks like he might have been working in the fuse box,” she noted. “What does this fuse box control?”

“Mostly the lights and outlets for the rec room, hallways, and cafeteria,” Kay said. “Stuff like that.”

Ruth had a thought and grabbed the outstretched left hand, pulling it toward her. In the bright light, she saw small burns on the tips of three fingers. She angled the hand so the people behind her could see.

“Well, I think we have our answer,” she said. “He was reaching into the fuse box and must’ve been electrocuted. Maybe he thought we lost power because we’d tripped a circuit breaker.”

“Dennis wasn’t the brightest bulb,” Parker said with a sad shake of his head. “It’s a shame.”

Ruth rose and backed out of the closet, the crowd parting before her. “We can’t leave him lying here. Let’s move the body into one of the empty crew quarters, at least for now.”

Of course, it occurred to Ruth that if they didn’t get rescued soon, they would have to toss the body overboard before it started to smell. But the workers all looked grim and sad at the moment. She didn’t want to talk about discarding their friend’s body, not just yet. As the workers looked on somberly, Jorge and Ignacio dragged the body out of the closet and hoisted it up.

“It’s a shame,” John said. “The guy looks so young.”

“Come on,” Kay said to them. “Let’s bring him to his room.”

Head down, dragging her feet, she led them across the rec room toward the crew quarters. Stella was standing off to one side, still looking red-eyed and freaked out. Ruth went to her and hugged her.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that,” she said.

“I just don’t get it,” Stella replied.

As the group walked out of the room, Ruth and Stella brought up the rear.

“What do you mean?”

“Gran, how could Dennis have been electrocuted?” Stella asked.

“If he was reaching into the fuse box when the EMP happened…” But Ruth caught herself. He was seen at the lifeboat launch, and indeed, now that Stella brought it up, there was another glaring problem with this hypothesis.

“He wouldn’t have been reaching into the fuse box during the EMP,” Stella said. “He would have done it afterward, and at that point, I don’t see how he could have been electrocuted. The fuse box couldn’t have stored a charge somehow after it got fried, could it?”

“No, it wouldn’t have,” Ruth said.

Parker was near the back of the group, and he looked at them over his shoulder. “It’s possible, though,” he said. “Something might have caused the electrical system to discharge some last bit of power that was protected from the EMP.”

“It seems unlikely,” Ruth said.

“Unlikely, but not impossible,” Parker said. “And sadly, it’s what seems to have happened. Otherwise, how do we explain this? What else could have killed him?”

What else, indeed, Ruth thought. But she just nodded.

15

They laid Dennis on a bed in an unused bedroom at the end of the hall and covered him with a blanket. Then the workers spent a few minutes standing around the bed. It felt like a funeral, though nobody said anything. John even took his battered baseball cap off his head and bowed his head, as if in prayer. Ruth watched from the doorway, her arm still around her granddaughter.

“He was in that closet the whole time, and we had no idea,” Stella said. “That’s freaking me out. How many times did we walk past it without thinking to check in there?”

“I suppose we have to consider the possibility that Clark’s body is also onboard somewhere,” Ruth said. “We’ll have to finish looking in every closet and cupboard. Maybe he had an accident too.”

“I don’t want to be the one to find him,” Stella said.

“You stay with me this time,” Ruth replied.

The makeshift funeral finally broke apart, and the workers turned to look at Ruth. Clearly, they needed leadership now more than ever. Ruth looked at each of them in turn, then her gaze settled on Parker. As head of the maintenance team, it seemed like he might have the best sense of the layout of this place.

“You want us to look for Clark again?” he said.

“I do,” she replied. “Parker, if Clark did fall overboard, where is the most likely place that it would have happened? In your opinion, is there any particular place that’s more dangerous?”

Parker seemed to consider this, then said, “The bridge to the workshop, I guess. It connects this building with the other, but it spans a gap in the platform. There’s a handrail on either side, but the wind gets gusty out there.”

Ruth had seen the bridge. It was a narrow metal span near the living quarters. “Okay, come with me. I want to take a look. Kay, you come with us, too.”

She stepped aside so Parker could pass. It was probably a waste of time. She knew that. As she followed him, most of the others accompanied them. It seemed no one really wanted to be alone under the circumstances. She didn’t blame them. Something about Dennis’s death just didn’t make sense. Electrocuted while reaching into the fuse box. But why was he reaching into the fuse box, and how in the world would there have been a power surge post-EMP strong enough to kill him?

“Gran, what are you hoping to see?” Stella asked.

“I don’t know, dear,” Ruth replied. “I’m just trying to piece this together.”

Parker led them to a door near the end of the hall. It had a crash bar with a red-and-white emergency sticker across it. When he pushed it open, a strong wind blew into the hall. Beyond, Ruth saw a metal walkway stretching across a gap at the center of the oil platform toward a second landing and another building. Ruth approached the door, slipped past Parker, and stood on the landing outside. The handrail here was roughly the same height as the one surrounding the platform. It was windier, and there was some water glinting here and there on the metal floor.

Now that she was standing here, she didn’t know what she expected to see. If Clark had somehow been blown over the handrail, would he have left any marks? If he did, would she even know what she was looking at? Anyway, it was a leap to assume that Clark’s disappearance and Dennis’s death were connected. Wasn’t it?

She turned back around to see all of the workers clustered on the other side of the door, watching her.

“This would be the easiest place to go over,” Parker said. “Doesn’t mean that’s what happened.”

“I understand that,” Ruth replied. And she was at a loss as to what they should do next. “I guess we’re going to keep searching. Clark may be around here somewhere. Look in every closet, every cabinet, just like you were doing before. Search for Clark. Search for…something.”

She waved her hands at them all. Honestly, Ruth was nearing a point of complete exasperation. Fortunately, Kay and Parker quickly got their teams together and headed off to resume the search. However, Stella and a couple of workers lingered near the door. Ruth went back inside and pulled the door shut.

“I’m sticking with you, Gran,” Stella said to Ruth. “Sorry, it’s just too creepy, especially after what I just found.”

“That’s fine for now,” Ruth replied.

She eyed the two workers. She didn’t know either of them. Young men in dirty jackets and jeans.

“Shouldn’t you guys be searching with the others?” she asked. “What team are you on?”

The workers glanced at each other. When one of them spoke, he had a distinct accent. “Sorry, ma’am, but…uh, I’m Ignacio. This is my cousin Ricardo.” He pointed at the other man, who was slightly taller, slightly thicker, with a blunt and grease-streaked face. “We worked with Dennis on the drill team.”

“I think we were the last to see him alive,” Ricardo added. He glanced left and right, as if trying to make sure they were alone, but the search parties had already moved out of sight.

“Yeah, and can either of you tell me why he was messing around in a fuse box in the rec room?” she asked.

Both of the men shook their heads.

“No, but he liked to sneak off all the time,” Ricardo said. “He was a bad worker. Always disappearing on the job.”

“What’s the last thing he did?” Ruth asked.

“Earlier, he was supposed to be working with Kay to move some equipment from the drill room,” Ricardo said. “They went off together. And we never saw him again.”

“But you never saw anything suspicious?” Ruth asked. “No strange behavior? He didn’t say anything unusual?”

The men glanced at each, then both shook their heads again.

“Then…” She had to bite back an angry response. Why are you wasting my time? That’s what she wanted to say, but she tempered it. They’d lingered nearby for some reason. “Is there something else you wanted to tell me?”

“Just that…well, it’s not like Dennis to try to fix something on his own,” Ricardo said. “He tries to get out of work. He doesn’t find work.”

“I never saw him do any work unless someone ordered him to do it,” Ignacio said. “He wouldn’t bend over and pick up a hammer he’d dropped if he didn’t have to.”

“So someone ordered him into that closet?” Ruth said. “Is that what you’re suggesting?”

“Maybe,” Ignacio said. “I just know he wouldn’t do it on his own, and we worked with that guy for a long time.”

Ruth really didn’t know what to do with this information. “Just because someone ordered him to work on the fuse box doesn’t mean they knew it would kill him.”

Again, Ricardo and Ignacio traded a look.

“But if…” Ignacio started to speak, then stopped and cleared his throat before continuing. “If someone ordered him to do it, why didn’t they admit it? Kay, Parker, or Jorge could have told him to do it. All of them had authority over Dennis, but no one said it. No one said, ‘I sent him in there.’ Everyone acted surprised to find him in that closet.”

“Everyone’s acting like he must’ve done it on his own,” Ricardo said, “but it’s not like him.”

Ruth could see what they were suggesting, and she couldn’t help pushing back a little bit. “Just because his behavior was unusual doesn’t mean it was impossible. These are unusual circumstances.”

Ricardo and Ignacio stared at her for a few seconds. Finally, Ricardo said, “We just thought you needed to know that it wasn’t like him. That’s all, ma’am.”

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Ruth replied. “I appreciate your perspective. You can join the search teams now.”

They turned and walked off. Ruth waited until they were gone.

“Gran, do you really think there’s anything suspicious about Dennis’s death?” Stella said. “It seems like maybe those guys were trying to accuse someone without coming right out and saying it.”

Ruth sighed. “It’s entirely possible that Clark just fell overboard, and it’s entirely possible that Dennis got electrocuted in a freak accident. Electricity does strange things during an EMP, and the wind was blowing pretty fiercely during the storm.”

“So they were both just accidents, then,” Stella replied.

Ruth turned to her granddaughter and gave her a grave look. “I didn’t say that. I said it’s possible, but my gut tells me it’s unlikely. I don’t know what the heck is going on here, but something feels wrong about all of this. Something is off. I just…” She shook her head. “I certainly don’t want to accuse anyone of anything, not until I have more evidence.”

“And if we get more evidence?” Stella replied. “Then what happens?”

“I don’t know,” Ruth said. “We’ll figure that out when we have to. Come on. Let’s join the search. Just keep your eyes open, and like I said before, don’t wander off by yourself.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Stella replied, grabbing the straps of her backpack tightly as she kept pace with Ruth. “I’ll let someone else find the next dead body, thank you very much.”

“Let’s hope there aren’t any more dead bodies,” Ruth said.

16

John had been so relieved upon being rescued. After a horrible night of being tossed about in the open ocean, it had seemed like the wildest stroke of luck that a current had pushed them into an oil platform. They’d been fed, and Curtis’s wound had been treated. They were indoors, not stuck out in the rain, and they didn’t have to worry about drowning in the ocean.

But he was starting to feel weird about this place. Maybe this wasn’t the stroke of luck he’d thought it was. Ruth was an impressive woman, pleasant on the eyes, and clearly very intelligent, but John wasn’t so sure about some of the others. At the moment, he was following the guy named Parker, apparently the head of maintenance on the platform, and a few other workers as they went from room to room. They checked every closet, every cupboard, every drawer.

At one point, they went down a set of dark stairs into some kind of work rooms. If John hadn’t known better, he would have thought they were underground somewhere, though he knew they were actually thirty or forty feet above the water. When they reached a new room, they spread out and began rooting through everything. This time, John and Curtis wound up in a large storage closet, shining a flashlight around to make sure there weren’t any dead bodies tucked away.

“This is pretty morbid,” Curtis said. “I was so excited when we got rescued. I never would have guessed we’d be searching for dead bodies.”

“Yeah, but it’s still better than being out there on a dead ship in the middle of the ocean,” John noted. “How’s your head?”

Curtis reached up and touched the edge of the bandage. “Fine. I took some Tylenol earlier and I haven’t really thought about it since we found that guy in the closet. Did you see his fingers? They were burned.”

“I saw,” John replied. He shone the light beneath some shelves and saw only dust and debris. “Well, look, as long as we’re on this platform, we’ve got food and water and a roof over our heads, so let’s just be helpful, earn our keep, and not kick up any fuss. Okay?”

“You got it, Pop,” Curtis replied.

The search went on for a good hour or more. They found plenty of nooks and crannies, but they didn’t discover any additional corpses. Finally, they made their way back to the cafeteria, where they joined up with the second search party. Everyone was seated when Ruth and Stella showed up.

“No luck?” Ruth asked.

“No sign of Clark, just like before,” Kay noted. “We went over to the workshop and looked around. He’s not there.”

“We took a nice tour of the downstairs,” Parker said, “but we found nothing of note, boss.”

Ruth nodded. “Okay, duly noted. We had to search anyway. Look, it’s been a long, tough morning. I’m going to suggest we take a couple of hours to rest. I’d recommend everyone retire to their rooms, or to the rec room, and relax for a while. We’ll resume gathering supplies this afternoon. How does that sound?”

There was a general murmur of agreement as the workers began to scatter. John wasn’t sure what to do with himself. His body was exhausted, but his mind was alert and troubled. He went to the snack food stash and grabbed a couple of candy bars. Then he turned to leave, intending to head back to the bedroom they’d given him. If nothing else, he could at least sit for a while and give his aching back a rest.

He handed one of the candy bars to his son and headed across the room.

“I don’t like the ones with almonds,” Curtis said.

John quickly swapped candy bars with his son. “There. No almonds.”

As they reached the door, they passed Ruth, but she reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. “John, Curtis, would you come with me?” she said in a hushed voice.

John almost refused out of instinct. Why did it sound like he was being drawn into something weirder? He just wanted to keep his head down and move along.

Don’t be paranoid, he told himself. She’s just going to ask you to do a small favor or something.

“Yeah, sure,” he replied after an awkward moment of silence.

Ruth promptly turned and led them down the hall and into the control room. When they got there, they found candles flickering on top of a table. Ruth’s granddaughter was there, the college girl in the oversized blue jacket—John couldn’t quite remember her name. Parker was there as well, the maintenance boss who had led his search party. Even the dog was there, the sweet and timid Lab named Bestie. She had taken up a position in a corner of the room.

As soon as John and Curtis entered the room, Ruth shut the door and then, to his growing alarm, she locked it. Stella was sitting on a chair with a backpack in her lap. Parker was perched on the edge of one of the large control panel desks, his hands sunk deep into the pockets of his coat.

“So are we the inner circle now, boss?” Parker asked.

Ruth turned and pressed her back to the door, motioning for him to keep his voice down. “Not an inner circle. Just a few people I want to talk to right now. I’m not trying to create cliques or spread paranoia, but I need a few people I can trust. Stella, of course, I trust completely. Parker, I’ve known you a long time. John, Curtis, you’re both new here, so I know you’re safe.”

John looked for a place to sit and chose a chair in the corner behind a small table. Curtis followed him, then lowered himself cross-legged onto the floor with a pained grunt.

“So what’s this all about?” John asked. “Is there more trouble? I’m not sure we can help, especially since we’re new. We don’t know much about this place.”

Ruth stepped away from the door. She seemed to be gathering her thoughts. John found the woman intimidating. She always had a sharp, intelligent glint in her eyes, and she walked with confidence.

“I’m just going to level with you all,” she said, “but, understand, I’m not making any specific accusations. Not yet. I’m not convinced that the death of Dennis and the possible death of Clark were accidents, and I don’t think they were coincidental. There’s something more going on around here.”

Stella and Parker nodded gravely. Clearly, they felt the same way. John felt deep unease.

“You think somebody…did something to them?” John asked.

“Like I said, I’m not making any specific accusations,” Ruth replied. “I’m entertaining the possibility that something is going on, more than just the EMP. For now, I want to leave it at that.”

“It is sort of fishy,” Parker said. “Especially Clark dropping off the face of the earth. That’s not like him. Personally, I can’t vouch for all of these workers. What do you want us to do, boss?”

“We can’t afford to have people wandering off alone,” Ruth said, “so I want to implement a buddy system. Everyone is going to get paired with someone else, and they’re to stick together at all times. No one will be allowed to be alone, even at night. If anyone goes anywhere, their buddy goes with them. No exceptions.”

“Seems reasonable,” Parker said. “Some of the workers might balk. Kay won’t like it. I can tell you that for sure.”

“Well, that’s why you’re here,” Ruth said. “You’re a team leader, so I want you to help me implement this new rule. I think the workers will listen to you, and if we’re together on this, Kay and Jorge are more likely to go along with it.”

Parker gave her a little salute. “You got it, boss. I’ll help you get it done.”

John was impressed with how easily the woman took command of people. He understood she was an outside specialist, a contractor here on some assignment, but she moved people around like she owned the place. Yes, she was an impressive woman in many ways. Impressive and attractive.

“How do we choose buddies?” John asked.

“Well, it makes the most sense for you to stick close with your son there,” Ruth said.

“Certainly,” he replied. But he realized in that moment that he wouldn’t have been entirely disappointed if he’d been paired up with Ruth.

She hardly knows me, for Pete’s sake, he chided himself. Then again, she trusted me enough to pull me into the inner circle. That’s a good sign. Heck, she already risked her life to pull me off that boat.

John decided a little flattery couldn’t hurt the situation. “With weird stuff going on around here, I’m glad we’ve got a strong woman in charge of things. Otherwise, we might be descending into chaos.”

Ruth merely waved off the compliment, and he laughed in embarrassment. So much for his smooth moves.

“Stella, you’ll stick with me, of course,” she said. She scarcely even looked at John. “Parker, I want you to break the news to the crew and help me figure out the pairs. Do you feel comfortable doing that?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem,” Parker said. “Most of these guys like to stick together anyway. If Kay tries to refuse, I’ll just make Jorge follow her around. We’ll get it done. No problem.”

“Great. Let’s just keep our eyes open for anything out of the ordinary.” As she said it, she looked at each person in turn. When her eyes briefly locked on John, he had to avert his gaze, still embarrassed by his failed compliment, which had been swiped away like a fly.

She’s an educated woman, he reminded himself. She wouldn’t have the time of day for a plain old fisherman like me anyway.

“If any of you see anything strange, anything at all,” she said, “if anyone does or says something that sticks out, let me know. Let the other people in this room know. Is that clear?”

“Got it,” John said. He turned to his son. “You hear that, Curtis? Keep your eyes peeled and don’t trust anyone other than the people in this room.”

Curtis seemed a bit freaked out by this whole conversation. He was sitting on the floor, fidgeting and scowling, but he responded to his father with a nod and said, “Yeah, I got it. I got it. My eyes are open. I’ll report anything I see that’s weird. Trust me.”

Maybe if we help Ruth figure out what’s really going on, that might impress her just a little bit, John thought, then felt foolish for thinking it.

17

After a few hours of sleep, Ruth lay awake on her bed, thinking.

Despite Parker’s reassurances, Ruth did not have confidence that her plan would go over well. She decided it might go better if she gave the people some more time to rest, so she waited a good hour or more before she sent John, Curtis, and Parker to round everyone up. In the meantime, she waited with Stella in the cafeteria, pacing. Stella was seated at the end of a bench, slumped over with her head in her hands. Bestie had come with them to the cafeteria, but the poor dog was getting freaked out as things got tense. She was sitting in the open doorway to the kitchen, mostly hidden in shadow.

“Why did we ever come to this place?” Stella muttered.

“We didn’t plan on a terrorist EMP attack,” Ruth replied. “Anyway, would you rather be on shore with the fires?”

“I’d rather be in my dorm at college. Wouldn’t you rather be back at your office?”

“Part of me,” Ruth said. “The other part of me really wants to figure out what’s going on around here.”

Finally, John and Curtis reappeared, leading all that remained of the crew. Kay and Jorge were at the very back, and it looked like Parker was speaking to them, perhaps trying to goad them to keep moving.

Kay gave her a questioning look as she passed by and took a seat at one of the tables. They hadn’t even talked about the new rule, and already she looked annoyed. Ricardo and Ignacio entered, casting furtive glances about the room as they took seats near the back of the room. John and Curtis wound up sitting close to Stella. Once all of the workers were settled, though they were mostly restless, Parker approached Ruth. She was standing in a corner where she could easily see everyone in the room.

“So,” Parker said softly, leaning in close, “you want me to handle making the announcement?”

“Yeah,” Ruth replied. “It might go over a little easier coming from you.”

“I’m not too sure about that,” he said, with his trademark half-smile, “but I’ll give it a try.” He turned to face the room, planted his hands firmly on his hips, and loudly cleared his throat to draw attention. Some of the workers continued to chat or whisper, so he finally shushed them. “Cut the chatter, friends.”

“What’s this about?” Kay asked.

“Our intrepid interim supervisor here,” Parker said, gesturing at Ruth, “has made an executive decision, and since I wholeheartedly endorse both her decision and her leadership, I’m going to make the official announcement.”

“Just say it, then,” Kay said. “What’s with the intro?”

“We’re instituting a buddy system,” Parker said. “That’s the long and the short of it. From now on, every person in this facility will have one buddy that they stick with at all times. You bunk in the same room, work together, eat together, walk the hall together, go to the bathroom at the same time. No one is to be alone at any time henceforth. Is that clear?”

This caused a lot of restless murmuring.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Kay said. “I’m not having someone follow me into the restroom or sleep in my room. This is ridiculous. What’s the reason for this new rule, and whose idea was it?”

“It was my idea,” Ruth said, stepping up beside Parker.

“Did you think through the logistics of this?” Kay asked.

“It’s very simple, really,” Ruth said. “There aren’t a lot of logistics to work through. I don’t want anyone being alone, not after what happened to Dennis and Clark. We just need to be safe for the time being, so I want everyone to choose a partner and stick to them like glue.”

“What if I don’t want to choose any of these people?” Kay said.

The murmuring was getting louder. Stella looked around helplessly, then buried her face against her backpack. John rose suddenly, adjusting his battered baseball cap, and moved to stand beside Ruth.

“Now, look here, people,” he said. The man had a loud voice when he wanted to. It filled the room. “Ruth isn’t trying to inconvenience anybody. Can’t you see that? She’s worried about your safety. Don’t you get that? You’ve got someone in charge here who cares about you, and you’re all whispering and whining like she’s trying to hurt you. Now, pardon me because I’m new here, but that doesn’t make any damn sense at all.”

His impassioned speech put an end to the murmuring, as everyone in the room grew quiet. All eyes were fixed on Ruth now. She glanced at John, impressed by the passion of his defense. Finally, a timid Ricardo raised his hand from the back of the room. When Ruth pointed at him, he cleared his throat and said, “Personally, I think it’s a very good idea, señora. My buddy will be my cousin Ignacio.”

“Thank you, Ricardo,” Ruth said. “Now, we’ve got an even number of people in this room. I count a dozen, so you can each choose your own buddy, or I’ll choose one for you, if you prefer. Unless anyone has any further questions or concerns, we’ll end this meeting and start creating pairs.”

She let her gaze move across the room and settle on Kay. The small, stocky woman was frowning deeply and staring back at her, but she said nothing else.

“It’s a good plan,” Parker added, as if to put a final point on the discussion.

As soon as the meeting ended, people began pairing off. Ruth saw workers talking to one another, some nodding, others shaking their heads. John nodded proudly at Ruth, then went to sit with his son. Kay continued to scowl in silence. When a worker approached her and said something, she shook her head vigorously and waved him away. Clearly, she was not going to be easily paired. Finally, Ruth approached her.

“There has to be someone you’d feel comfortable with,” Ruth said as Kay sat stoically in her seat.

“Not really,” Kay replied. “I don’t like the idea of having someone follow me into the bathroom or watch me sleep.”

“Your buddy doesn’t have to follow you into the bathroom,” Ruth said. “They can wait right outside. And they don’t have to watch you sleep. That’s not what this is about.”

Kay crossed her arms. “That’s it, it’s an order, then? You’re not going to let me opt out?”

Ruth was finding it increasingly difficult to maintain an even tone. But she knew it would look bad if she lost her temper in front of everyone.

“This is a safety issue. We’ve had two people disappear, and one of them turned up dead. You were in the room when we pulled the body out of that closet. No one’s opting out because I won’t risk losing anyone else.”

“Not even me,” Kay said.

“Especially you,” Ruth said.

Kay’s tense posture softened. “Well, I’m glad you view me so highly.”

Ruth looked over her shoulder. John and Curtis, were sitting at the end of the table, chatting quietly. Parker was standing nearby, his hands slunk into the pockets of his jacket. He made eye contact with Ruth.

“I’m going to help you out, Kay,” Ruth said. “I’ve got the perfect buddy for you. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

Without waiting for her response, Ruth beckoned Parker and went toward him. He gave his characteristic half-smile and went to meet her, but she pulled him to one side, out of Kay’s earshot, and leaned in close.

“Something tells me you just found my buddy,” he said.

She motioned for him to keep his voice down. “Yeah, I’m sticking you with Kay again, if you don’t mind.” When his smile faltered, she added, “Parker, I just don’t trust her. We woke her from a nap, so she’s cranky. I get that. But she’s resisting this too much. The need should be clear to everyone by now.”

“Ah, Kay is all bark and no bite,” Parker said, waving her off. But then he looked past Ruth’s shoulder, where Kay was sitting, and the last of the smile evaporated. His eyes narrowed, as if he were appraising her anew. “Then again, she is being strangely stubborn about all of this. I don’t know. Maybe I’m starting to have my suspicions as well. She’s not usually so scowly.”

“One person dead,” Ruth said. “The other missing, probably dead. I don’t like coincidences. Will you be her buddy and keep an eye on her? I think she’ll put up with you.”

“I think she will too,” Parker replied. “I can be charming when I need to be.” He gave Ruth a little salute. “Okay, I’ve got this, boss. Let me break the news.”

Ruth nodded. As Parker stepped past her to approach Kay, she stayed back. Maybe Kay would be more receptive if Ruth wasn’t part of the conversation. Clearly, there was some resistance to the new leadership. Ruth didn’t bother to turn and look at them, but she listened as Parker approached.

“Hey there, Kay, my old pal,” he said in his winningest tone of voice.

“Oh, what do you want?” she replied, as surly as ever.

“Well, since we have to go along with this buddy system, I just volunteered myself to be your new best friend,” he said.

“Yeah?” Kay replied. Well, it wasn’t an immediate rejection. That was a good sign.

“Yep, I figure we can make it work in a way that we’re both comfortable with,” Parker said. “Better me than one of these other schlubs. What do you say?”

Kay was quiet for a few seconds. Ruth could hear her breathing, slow and deep, unhappy. But finally, she grunted and said, “Okay, that’s fine. But you’re not following me into the bathroom.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Parker replied. “Not without at least two of Clark’s scented candles. Vanilla cookie and lavender. That should do it.”

“Very funny,” Kay replied sourly.

“Look at you, being a team player!”

She slugged him in the arm. “Shut up, Parker.”

18

Once everyone had selected a buddy and they were all sitting together in pairs, Ruth assigned tasks to each pair. She wanted all of the batteries tested to separate any bad ones. She wanted a literal list of supplies in their inventory. And the drill pressure still needed to be monitored.

As each pair received their assignment, they left the room. Ruth was hesitant to give Kay any direct instructions after their recent tension. More than that, she figured if she let the woman figure out her own routine, she might give Parker more reason to keep an eye on her. So when it came to their team, Ruth merely gestured at them and said, “I’ll trust you two to figure out what you should be doing.”

And with that, Parker rose, gave her another little salute, and headed out of the cafeteria with Kay at his heels. The woman seemed to be scowling slightly less, but she clearly still wasn’t happy with the way things had turned out. Once they were gone, the only people left were Stella, John, and Curtis.

Ruth turned to address the fishermen. Curtis, the younger man, seemed quiet and shaken by the day’s events, his hands clasped tightly on the tabletop, but John watched Ruth with what seemed like eager anticipation. The man was clearly raring to go. Something about recent events had invigorated him. Ruth couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

“First of all, John,” she said, “thanks for your little speech earlier. It seemed to help.”

“Just doing my part,” he replied, reaching up to adjust the brim of his baseball cap.

“You and your son have the least working knowledge of this oil platform,” Ruth said. “After what happened to Dennis, I’d rather not send you off on a supply run. Is there some other work you’d like to contribute to? I’m not sure what your skill set is.”

“We can fish,” Curtis said, then chuckled bitterly to himself. “Or, at least, I used to think we could.”

John held up a hand to his hand. “Practically speaking, I’ve got some electrical skills.”

“What do you mean by that?” Ruth asked.

“Well, uh…” He grinned sheepishly. “Before I retired, I was a registered electrician. Worked on houses, mostly. If you need something wired or rewired, I’m your man. Nothing too complicated, of course.”

“Dad’s being modest,” Curtis said, swiftly. “He’s a great electrician.”

Ruth didn’t want to get her hopes up, but an electrician was potentially just what she needed. Then again, if he was retired, maybe it had been a while since he’d done any significant work. “What was the last major project you worked on?” she asked.

“Professionally or personally?” he asked.

“Either one,” she said. “Whichever was most recent.”

John glanced at his son, then gave Ruth another sheepish grin. “I rebuilt our boat from scratch. Well, Curtis and I did it together. He’s better with the mechanical stuff, and I have a way with the electrical. Together, we got it done.” He shrugged. “Then again, maybe I shouldn’t brag about putting the boat together after how things worked out. The electrical wiring completely failed on us.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Ruth replied. “In fact, the failure of the electronics had nothing to do with your skills.”

“You sure about that?” John asked.

“Yep, and actually, I could really use your help right now.” She beckoned them. “Both of you. We’ve had enough distractions. We’re going to get the control room up and running, if we can. Are you okay with that?”

“Well, heck yes,” John said, pushing himself to his feet. She thought if he’d had the energy, he might have bounded up. “I would love the opportunity to be useful.”

Ruth turned and headed across the cafeteria. As she did, Stella rose and came with her, clutching the straps of her backpack tightly. Curtis gave Stella a little tip of his baseball cap in passing and even mouthed the word, “Ma’am.” Well, these fishermen were gentlemen, that was for sure. Stella seemed embarrassed by the gesture.

When Ruth reached the hallway, she saw Parker and Kay standing nearby, having a quiet but intense conversation. Parker made brief eye contact with Ruth and held up a hand, as if to say, “I’ve got this.”

Maybe they need an assignment after all, Ruth thought. I can’t have them arguing in the hall.

“Parker, Kay, would you two keep an eye on the rest of the crew?” Ruth asked. “Just make sure everyone stays on task.”

It had the desired effect. Parker saluted, put a hand on Kay’s shoulder, and directed her down the hallway. Whatever she’d been fighting about, Kay seemed to resign herself to the task and let Parker guide her in the direction of the rec room. Ruth waited until they were around the corner and out of sight before heading to the control room.

“That woman seems really stubborn sometimes,” John noted.

“I don’t know what her deal is,” Ruth replied. “Her mood is worsening. Parker’s keeping an eye on her for me. We should have put her on the lifeboat, but it’s too late for that.” She sighed. “Maybe she just hates to relinquish control. I can understand that, but it doesn’t make things any easier.”

In the control room, they found the panel for the new computer system still pulled away from the wall, the generator sitting nearby in a nest of wires and mechanical parts. Ruth hadn’t been able to figure out a way to connect the generator to the computer on her own, and the constant distractions hadn’t helped.

“I saw this big mess earlier,” John said, following her into the room. “I kind of wondered if it was something I could help with, but I didn’t think it was my place to say anything.”

“So, I’ve been trying to figure out how to get the generator running and then connect it to the console so I can power the thing,” Ruth said. “However, I’m not a computer technician. I’m a geologist. I don’t know how to connect it to the generator. Additionally, the generator only seems to run for a second or two before it cuts out, so there must be some kind of mechanical problem with it.”

“We’ll take a look,” John said. “First, let’s prepare our workspace.”

John and Curtis approached the control panel and immediately began tidying up the area. Curtis set the old red toolbox on the table and began arranging the tools, as John worked on clearing a space behind the console. Once the area had been organized, John sat down in front of the open panel in the back of the new console.

“Okay, I’m just going to take a look around in here,” he said. “I don’t know this computer system, so give me a few minutes. Ruth, Stella, if you guys want to stick close, you could help us by grabbing tools.”

As John began looking inside the guts of the console, Curtis began doing some kind of work on the generator. Ruth signaled for Stella to stick close to the young man as she moved toward John. As the men went to work, they occasionally asked for some tool or piece of equipment, and Ruth and Stella retrieved it for them.

While they were working, it occurred to Ruth that Bestie hadn’t come with her. The dog seemed a bit like the oil platform’s barometer. The more tense things got, the scarcer she made herself. As far as Ruth knew, she was still cowering in the kitchen shadows. She made a mental note to check on the poor dog once she had a chance.

Finally, Curtis sat up with a sigh. “Well, ma’am, I can tell you what’s wrong with your generator.”

“Is it broken?” Ruth said.

Curtis turned and gave her a grave look. He shook his head. “It’s been messed with. I think someone sabotaged it. The carburetor has been clogged with a bunch of goop and debris. I can’t think of any way it would get like this on its own. This looks intentional, like someone was hastily trying to break the thing.”

Ruth felt a cold shiver at the thought. Who would go out of their way to sabotage a small diesel generator, and why?

“Was it Clark?” Stella asked, kneeling beside Curtis to look into the guts of the generator. “Is that why he disappeared?”

“I don’t know,” Curtis replied. “I never met the guy, but it was someone, and I think it was done fairly recently.”

John was halfway inside the console, on his hands and knees, but he backed out now. He pulled his baseball cap off, fanned his face with it, then jammed it back on his head. Ruth could tell by the look on his face that he had bad news, too.

“You’ll never get this console and running,” he said. “Not like this.”

“Why not?” Ruth asked.

“There are cut wires in here,” he said. He had a small flashlight, and he angled the light deep into the back of the console. “Specifically, the wires that would connect this to the rest of the computer system.”

“Are you sure the wires were cut?” Ruth asked, her blood going cold.

“Oh, yeah, it’s a clean cut,” John said. He grabbed a bundle of wires and held them up so she could see the cut ends. “Looks like someone sliced it with a knife. This was definitely intentional.”

“Can we splice the wires and twist them together?” Ruth asked.

“No, because the other end of this bundle is missing,” John said. “This should end in a little dongle that plugs into the motherboard, but it’s gone. Whoever cut it did not intend for it to be repaired, that’s for sure.”

Intentional sabotage. It couldn’t be seen any other way. Someone had messed with the generator and the computer console to control the new tech. Suddenly, she couldn’t bring herself to believe that the death and disappearances had been accidental either. And hadn’t Ricardo and Ignacio already pointed the finger at a specific person?

“The missing half of that bundle of wires,” Ruth said, moving up behind John. “The part that connects to the dongle. You’re sure it’s not in there somewhere? You’re sure it didn’t get severed accidentally when they were installing the console?”

John moved the light around inside, revealing a lot of cluttered wires and electronics. “It’s definitely not in here,” he said. “And it didn’t look accidentally severed. If the wire got pinched somehow when they were putting the console or panel into place, it would have looked rougher at the place where it split. This is smooth. It was definitely cut with something sharp. That’s why I said a blade.”

“And there’s no way to reroute things somehow,” Ruth said, squatting beside him.

He shook his head. “No, we’d need a replacement part.”

“Is there any way to tell when this happened?” she asked.

“There’s no dust on the last two inches of the cut wire,” he replied, “which means it was manhandled recently. Dust hasn’t had a chance to collect again. It would collect faster if the console had been powered on. I think this happened recently, around the time of the EMP, if I had to guess.”

Ruth glanced at Curtis and Stella. They were kneeling in front of the generator, but their attention had turned to the console. Everyone looked freaked out. The gravity of the situation was clear to them all. Ruth looked at the door. It was closed but not locked. She rose and went to the door, turning the lock and leaning her back against it.

“Any suspects?” John asked. “Any idea who might’ve done this?”

“Too many,” Ruth replied. “Most of these workers are suspects right now.”

“Maybe this is why Clark disappeared,” Stella said. “Maybe he went off by himself because he was messing with this stuff, and then he escaped after he was done sabotaging the oil platform. There could have been another lifeboat or raft we didn’t know about.”

Ruth entertained the possibility, but it just didn’t make sense. “Clark was trying to get the platform up and running. He was frantic after we lost power. What possible motive could he have had for sabotaging things?”

No one had an answer for this.

“Sorry, dear,” Ruth said. “I should have made sure you were on the lifeboat. You shouldn’t be here caught in the middle of this.”

“The shore is on fire,” Stella reminded her. “No place is safe. We need to figure out who would sabotage this equipment.”

“Someone who wants to keep the oil platform from coming back online,” Ruth said. “The thing is, that generator was already broken when I found it in Clark’s office, which means it was sabotaged on the day the EMP hit. Maybe shortly after it happened.”

“Or before,” Curtis replied.

“Or before,” Ruth echoed, nodding.

“If that’s the case, then it’s possible whoever did it knew the EMP was incoming,” Stella said.

“Whether they did or they didn’t, they’re clearly on the side of the terrorists,” Ruth said. Even as she said it, the shock of it sank deep into her guts until she was practically swooning. There was a terrorist on board the oil platform. One of the men or women that she had interacted with. At least one. “Someone doesn’t want us to get this oil platform up and running again at any cost.”

“At any cost?” John took his baseball cap off again and fanned his face even more vigorously this time. Sweat was running down it. “Do you suppose that young man they found in the closet…do you suppose he was killed by the terrorist?”

“I think it’s entirely possible,” Ruth replied. “If there’s a terrorist on board this oil platform, then we have a limited amount of time to figure out who it is and stop them before they do something worse.”

“We’re trapped on this platform with a maniac,” Curtis said, reaching up again to touch the edge of the bandage on his head.

“Yes, and we’re going to find out who it is,” Ruth said, “before they figure out we’re on to them.”

19

Ruth knew exactly where she wanted to start, but as she formulated the plan in her mind, she began to feel a rising sense of dread. They were dealing with someone truly dangerous. They’d already made that clear. Still, some risk couldn’t be avoided. She stood quietly for a moment, letting the others come to terms with their situation. Stella hugged her backpack in her lap. John slowly and methodically put the guts of the console back together and set the panel in place, as Curtis rearranged the tools on the table.

It was quiet, tense, somber.

“I never thought I’d have to play detective,” Ruth said, after a moment, “but I guess that’s what it’s come to. Unfortunately, that means I’m going to have to ask you guys to do some uncomfortable things.” She turned to Stella. “Especially you.”

Stella sat up straighter. “What can I do to help?”

“You’re going to take over as Kay’s buddy for a little bit, so I can talk to Parker in private,” Ruth said, beckoning her. “Can you handle that?”

“That woman doesn’t like me.”

“She doesn’t like anyone,” Ruth replied. “Can you handle it?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Stella rose, clearly reluctant, and slid the straps of her backpack over her shoulders.

“Keep your eyes open. If you see any strange behavior, make note of it, and let me know as soon as possible.”

She unlocked the door and pulled it open to the dark hallway beyond, and she felt a deep sense of dread. The shadows now seemed filled with danger. Ruth still had a flashlight in her hand, and she shined it through the open door.

This could get us all killed, she thought. Maybe we should just find a way to leave the oil platform before the terrorist realizes we’re on their trail.

Indeed, there was another lifeboat. With a bit of help, it could be released from the bent lift arm and lowered into the water. But then what? She couldn’t take the other workers with her, not until she knew who the terrorist was. Otherwise, she might be leaving them behind to die. No, it seemed the only option was to unmask the killer in their midst.

“What about us?” John asked. He was standing beside the console, swinging his flashlight anxiously. “Is there something we can do to help?”

“For now, stay here in the control room,” Ruth said. “See if you can scavenge anything from other equipment to get this up and running, and keep an eye out for any other signs of sabotage. Stick together. If there’s any sign of trouble, come and find me right away.”

John and Curtis glanced at each other. The younger man grimaced, clearly unnerved by this whole situation.

“Okay, Ruth, you got it,” John said, tipping his hat to her.

Ruth stepped out into the hallway, trying her best to suppress how she really felt. If she acted freaked out, the killer in their midst might know she was on to them. Stella followed her, closing the control room door behind her.

“Keep it together,” Ruth said quietly. “Don’t let anyone know how you really feel.”

“I will,” Stella replied.

Ruth heard workers moving in the distance, the squeak of wheels from handcarts, the thump of large boxes being set on the floor, voices chatting softly. When she passed the cafeteria and rounded the corner, she saw a coordinated effort, with pairs of people bringing supplies into the large storage closet. She found Parker and Kay inside the closet. He had a clipboard, and she seemed to be going through the boxes, identifying what they had in storage as he made quick notes.

“How long should I stay with her?” Stella said, just above a whisper.

Ruth shushed her granddaughter and nodded, then entered the closet. She passed Ricardo and Ignacio in the process. The men were headed out of the closet, but they both glanced at her in passing. She tried to give them her friendliest smile, but it felt forced.

“There you are, boss,” Parker said when he noticed her. “We’re getting everything inventoried. The teams are working hard. What do you think?”

He gestured toward the shelves in front of him. They were straining under the weight of numerous cardboard and plastic boxes.

“Looks good,” Ruth replied. “This supply closet is centrally located. It’ll be easily accessible.”

“That’s the idea,” he said.

Kay was already scowling at her. Ruth pressed ahead.

“Parker, I need your help for a minute,” she said. “Stella will take your place here until we get back. Hopefully, that’s not a problem.”

“Really?” Kay said sourly. “You can’t leave me here by myself for even a few minutes? I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Stella wants to help you,” Ruth said. “She’s likes being useful. We’ll be back soon.”

Ruth put a hand on Stella’s shoulder and propelled her forward.

“Oh, she looks thrilled,” Kay said. “Well, come on then, kid. Take the clipboard from Parker and write what I tell you to write.”

Parker passed the clipboard to Stella. “Don’t worry, Kay doesn’t bite…I don’t think.”

Stella grabbed the clipboard with one hand, took the small pen in the other, and approached Kay.

The other teams are in and out frequently, Ruth told herself. Stella will be fine.

And with that, she headed out of the closet. Parker came with her. Other teams were coming down the hallway, so Ruth turned the other way. As soon as she reached the cafeteria, she stepped inside, but then she kept going toward the back of the room. She looked back to make sure Parker was still following her. The man was furiously chewing his lower lip.

“Did something else happen?” he asked. “Did you find something?”

Ruth put a finger to her lips and stepped into the kitchen. As soon as she did, she heard the click of claws on the tile floor. A small shape moved out of a dark corner, whining. Ruth shifted the flashlight toward the corner and revealed poor Bestie standing there. The dog was whimpering and trembling.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she said. “All of this commotion is scaring you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, from what I’ve heard, she usually disappears when there’s tension or trouble,” Parker said.

Ruth went toward the dog, reaching out with her free hand. “Come here, girl. It’s okay. These are just people problems, but you’ll be fine.”

But for some reason, Bestie gave a scared little bark and took off running. She ran past Ruth, out of the kitchen, across the cafeteria, and disappeared into the hallway.

“What did I do?” Ruth asked.

“Don’t take it personally,” Parker said. “You won’t see much of her until things are back to normal.”

“Let’s hope that’s soon,” Ruth said.

She crossed the kitchen, moving past a large convection oven and an enormous granite countertop. At the back of the kitchen, a heavy door led into a pantry. She ushered Parker inside, then pushed the door shut.

“You didn’t bring me here to prepare lunch, I take it,” Parker said.

“I wish,” Ruth replied. She shone the flashlight along the shelves, saw the bags and boxes of food items there. Enough to last a while, but it wouldn’t matter if they didn’t root out the terrorist. She turned to face Parker, who met her gaze steadily. Clearly, he could tell she was troubled by something. “John and Curtis found evidence of sabotage in the control room. Someone messed with the console for the new computer system, and someone else clogged the carburetor for the generator to keep it from running.”

“Wait…what?” Parker looked left and right, as if he expected someone to jump out of the shadows at him. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid so,” he said. “John’s a certified electrician, so he was working inside the console. He found cut wires.”

Parker scratched furiously at his beard with both hands. “Well, that’s quite a discovery. Cut wires.” He turned toward the door, as if he were about to storm out of the room, but then he caught himself and turned back to Ruth. “Does John have any idea when this would have been done? Could he tell?”

“Shortly before we arrived or shortly afterward,” Ruth said. “Probably on the same day as the EMP. Someone on board this oil platform is trying to keep the new equipment from being activated.”

“Do we have any idea who might have done it?” Parker said.

Ruth shook her head. “You arrived at the same time as Stella and me, and the fishermen came later, so I think that rules out any of us. But the workers on board this oil platform are all suspects right now.”

Parker took a step back, then sat down on a large plastic crate. “I know most of the people who are on the platform right now. I just have a hard time believing any of them would do something like this. How can a person be…?” He stopped suddenly and raised his head, eyes wide. He stared off into space, as if looking at something far away.

“What is it?” Ruth asked. “What’s wrong?”

Parker rose and strode across the room, clearly troubled. He reached the far side of the room and turned to face her. “Do you remember the big pallet of supplies I unloaded from the helicopter, the one that smashed into the lifeboat lift?”

“Of course,” Ruth replied. “How could I forget it?”

“Those boxes mostly contained food, medical supplies, and a few electronic pieces for the new equipment,” he said. “After we struggled with the lifeboat lift, those supplies were moved. I later found the whole pallet stored in one of the exterior storage sheds, where it didn’t belong. Worse, the door either came open in the storm, or someone left it open, and most of the stuff was ruined by the wind and rain.”

“You never said anything about that,” Ruth said.

He strode back toward her, started to sit down again, then seemed to change his mind. “At the time, I didn’t think it was a huge deal because I figured the supplies could be replaced. I was going to tell Clark about it and let him deal with it. But now…” He turned to face Ruth again. “If we have a saboteur in our midst, then it might have been intentional.”

“Who could have done it?” Ruth asked.

“I don’t know. Nobody claimed credit for it,” he said.

“If a pallet of equipment is lying around, who is most likely to move it into storage without being ordered to do so?” she asked.

“Well…maybe Kay. Maybe Jorge.” He shrugged.

Now they were getting somewhere. Ruth could feel the vise clamping down, and it was closing exactly where she thought it would. “I’m not surprised to hear you say those names because they’re at the top of my list of suspects. Though I have a hard time wrapping my head around either of them being a saboteur.”

And now Parker did sit down again, unleashing a deep sigh. “I’ve worked with her for a long time. She can be a bit of a pain in the butt at times, but she’s always been trustworthy. She works hard. I don’t know.”

“You haven’t found her recent behavior even a little strange?” Ruth asked. “She’s being more than a pain in the butt, especially when I implemented the buddy system. She’s being willfully belligerent.”

Parker bit his lip, then nodded. “Yeah, she’s been a bit worse, that’s true. I chalked it up to stress, but maybe it’s something else, something worse. As for Jorge, I don’t know. He’s hard to read. I guess he belongs on the list too. What about the fishermen? Especially John, the older guy? We don’t know them at all. They just showed up suddenly. I heard their little story about getting lost at sea, but what if they’re saboteurs who came here to mess with us?”

“John and Curtis were out at sea when the sabotage was done,” Ruth said. “They can’t be suspects.”

“Fair enough. What about Clark?” Parker suggested. “I’d hate to point the finger at the boss, but he was always such an odd man. Maybe someone paid him to sabotage our stuff, and then he jumped overboard after he did it. Is that possible?”

“We can’t rule it out,” Ruth said.

“Maybe they paid him in scented candles,” Parker added, then laughed bitterly. Ruth couldn’t bring herself to laugh. “Sorry, bad joke.”

“No, it’s fine,” Ruth said.

“So we’ve got our short list of suspects, then,” Parker said, dragging his hands through his hair. “What’s the next step? Do we interrogate them, play the ‘good cop, bad cop’ routine?”

Ruth considered this. Actually, she wasn’t entirely sure what to do next, but a thought occurred to her. “I guess we do a little detective work next. Would you take me to the outdoor storage building where the damaged pallet was kept?”

Parker shrugged. “Sure. Come with me. The stuff is still sitting out there. I didn’t bother to bring it in because it was so rain-soaked.”

They left the pantry and headed across the kitchen. When they reached the hallway, Ruth could hear people moving and stacking supplies in the storage closet around the corner. If someone was sabotaging supplies, then the workers were creating an even bigger problem by bringing everything to a centralized location. Their supplies weren’t safe.

Nothing’s safe until we figure out who our saboteur is, she thought.

Parker led her outside. A chill wind was still blowing, but the rain had let up. The storage shed was around the corner, not far from the helicopter pad. Though the building looked sturdy enough, Ruth could see that the door faced the direction of the wind. Inside, she found the pallet of supplies tucked against the back wall. As Parker had said, the entire stack of boxes was water-damaged, and there was still a puddle on the floor around it.

“You’re sure someone left the door open?” Ruth asked. “It didn’t just swing open because of the storm?”

“Unlikely that it was the wind,” he said. He reached back and grabbed the door latch, turning it to show her the sturdy latch. “It’s pretty strong. When it’s closed, it’s closed good.”

“The closet I chose for the supplies doesn’t lock,” Ruth noted.

Parker shook his head. “No, there aren’t a lot of locking rooms in this place. Not much need for it. We don’t usually have saboteurs running around trying to destroy everything.”

Ruth nodded. “Well, in that case, I’m afraid we’ll have to relocate all of the supplies into the control room where they can be better watched to prevent further tampering. Will you help me tell everyone we’re moving the supplies?”

He tipped her a little salute. “Whatever you say, boss.”

20

Ricardo and Ignacio were fast workers, and they didn’t complain about having to relocate supplies that had just been moved into the closet. Ruth thought these two men, who had first raised concerns about Kay, might be two that she could fully trust. While the other teams continued to collect what they could find around the oil platform, Parker instructed Ricardo and Ignacio to wheel it all into the control room. John and Curtis joined in the task.

Unfortunately, the control room wasn’t especially big, and it lacked shelving. Soon, crates of manuals, boxes of screws and wires, and other things began to fill up the space, and by the time they were done, half the room was packed from floor to ceiling. It would be a whole other task to separate what was useful and what wasn’t. No one questioned this change of plans, but Ruth got a few unfriendly looks. When Kay realized what they were doing, she walked down to the control room and glared through the door at them for a few minutes.

Finally, she muttered, “Who really knows what’s going on around here anymore? New leadership, new rules that change every thirty minutes. Fantastic. That instills confidence in an anxious crew.”

Stella was sticking to her like glue, at least. At the moment, Stella was holding the inventory clipboard, and she jotted a few notes down as the control room filled up.

The poor girl, Ruth thought. It can’t be fun.

And there was the safety issue to take into account. Kay was on the list of suspects. Was it safe for Stella to be so close to her? But she trusted Stella more than anyone, and the girl had repeatedly proven herself during this crisis.

Ruth, Parker, John, and Curtis tried to arrange the boxes and bags in some semblance of order.

“I wish you’d done this from the beginning,” Kay said. “We spent hours gathering stuff and arranging it in that closet. Will you at least explain why we’re making this sudden change?”

“The control room has a lock on the door,” Ruth said.

“So, you’re expecting people to try to loot our supplies?” Kay asked.

“Not necessarily,” Ruth replied. “I’m just being cautious.”

Kay blew her breath out. “I get it. I get it. We’re just fumbling along, trying to figure out how to deal with the current crisis, but it’s really discouraging to ask people to work for hours only to change everything around without explanation.”

Despite being difficult, it was a reasonable complaint, and Ruth couldn’t afford to keep provoking her—at least until they unmasked their saboteur.

“Kay, I’m sorry,” she said, dabbing her cheeks and neck with her sleeve. “You’re right. It’s not fair to change what we’re doing while people are working hard. I’ll try to avoid doing so in the future.”

Kay glared at her for a second, but then her expression softened. “Okay, good. Thanks. That’s all I ask. If you’re going to be the new boss, at least be more reasonable than the last one.”

And with that, she beckoned Stella. Stella handed the inventory clipboard to Curtis, then trotted after her.

“I don’t know what to do with this,” Curtis said, using a corner of the clipboard to scratch his temple. “You don’t want to put me in charge of inventory. Believe me. That’s not my strength.”

Ruth went to the young fisherman and took the clipboard from him. “Here. Let me take care of this.” She flipped through the pages of the inventory. Everything seemed to have been well documented, at least, and the handwriting was legible. It would do. She tossed it onto the table against the wall.

She’d turned back to the stacks of supplies, where Parker and John were still moving things around, when she heard voices in the hallway. At first, they sounded like cries of alarm, and she felt a cold shiver.

They found another dead body, she thought.

But then she realized someone was laughing. Someone else said, “Wow, what luck.” That was Jorge, the normally reserved and quiet worker.

“What’s going on out there?” Ruth wondered aloud.

Parker had been repositioning a box, but he rose now with a groan and turned toward the door. John and Curtis finished stacking a large bag of medical supplies in the corner. The commotion in the hallway was growing, and Ruth heard a door whoosh open and hit the wall. She recognized it as the exterior door.

“We’d better check it out,” she said, stepping into the hallway.

She turned in the direction of the main entry hall and saw some of the workers clustered around the door. As she approached, they headed outside. John caught up to her before she reached the entry room.

“Seems like maybe they spotted something outside,” he said, adjusting his baseball cap.

“Let’s hope it’s not more trouble,” Ruth replied.

She followed the crowd outside. Most of the workers had gathered there by now. She saw Ricardo and Ignacio standing at the handrail near the lifeboat lift. Ignacio was pointing down at something in the water. The other workers gathered behind them, and Ruth worked her way through the group to get to the handrail.

“I saw it first,” Ignacio said. “We were gathering some equipment on deck, and I saw it moving out of the corner of my eye. Just drifting there.”

Ruth looked where he was pointing and saw it. A cruise ship, a big one, it was drifting past the oil platform. It had at least twelve or thirteen decks, but it was dead in the water. Either the crew or passengers had used large white bedsheets to create makeshift signs and hung them from the railing at various levels all along the side of the ship. The messages said things like, “SOS,” “Need Rescue,” “Help Us,” and so on.

“Well, if you have to be stranded on the ocean,” Ricardo said, “a cruise ship isn’t a bad place to be stranded.”

“No way,” John replied, taking a position beside Ruth at the handrail. “You don’t want to be stuck in a dead boat with that many people. Tempers flare, people get desperate, sick, injured. Toilets overflow. I’d rather be just about anywhere else.”

Ruth could see many people clustered on various decks. Many of them were waving their hands or blankets at the oil platform. The ship was clearly at the mercy of the Gulf current, just floating along with no power. They were close enough that Ruth could spot whole families, including quite a few children.

“Is there something we can do for them?” It was Stella. She had also been drawn by the noise, and she’d come outside with Kay to check it out. “There’s a lot of people on board that ship. The EMP happened a whole day ago. They’ve been drifting ever since with no power!”

Ruth briefly entertained the idea of helping them. The cruise ship was passing directly in front of them now, and she could see a lot of desperate faces. They were waving even more frantically now, some jumping up and down, others calling out. Their shrill voices carried across the water as the wind and waves blew them onward.

“A full cruise ship can hold around 3,000 people,” Ruth said. “They wouldn’t be any better off here on the oil platform. On the ship, they’ve got thirteen decks to move around, and probably more food and clean water than we’ve got.”

“But there are little kids on board,” Stella said.

Ruth saw one little girl in a bright red dress running back and forth along the railing on a high deck, waving a big floppy hat over her head. It pained her to see it. Those poor people were probably terrified.

“They’re heading out to sea,” Stella said. “Away from land. They’ll be adrift in the Gulf of Mexico, with no easy way to get back to land.”

Parker had arrived. He was zipping up his coat against the chill wind. “Actually, there are a couple of small, uninhabited islands in that direction. If they play their cards right, they could run aground and deboard on an island. They’d at least have more room to spread out and wait for rescue.”

The cruise ship was moving past the oil platform now, headed out into the rough waters. Ruth recalled seeing the small islands on a map of the area, but she wasn’t sure uninhabited islands would be much better than being stuck on the ship.

“Could we take the fishing boat out there and rescue them?” Stella asked.

“No, the fishing boat has no sails,” John reminded her. “It’s stuck against the oil platform’s support post at the moment, and it would be at the mercy of the wind and waves.”

Ruth put an arm around her granddaughter’s shoulders. “Stella, dear, I know you want to help, but there’s just nothing we can do for them.”

Stella finally resigned herself to the situation. Ruth felt her shoulders slump. By now, every person on the oil platform had gathered around the handrail, and they all watched quietly as the cruise ship drifted by and continued out into the open water beyond. The people on board continued to wave at the oil platform, still expecting some kind of rescue, even as they drifted off into the distance. Ruth kept her arm around Stella, needing the comfort as much as giving it.

Of course, she knew that the sight of the abandoned cruise ship was only further indication that they were never going to be rescued. Nobody was coming, not for the dead cruise ship adrift in the ocean, not for the oil platforms, not for anyone.

“Maybe we would be better off with them,” Ricardo said. Ever since telling Stella about Kay’s behavior, Ricardo and Ignacio had seemed skittish, even when working. “I’d rather live on an island somewhere than be stuck here. They probably have fresh coconut, pineapples, and all sorts of fruit and seafood right there.”

“It hasn’t come to that,” Ruth said. She didn’t think it would ever come to that. Not if she could get the power back on and call for help. Anyway, she couldn’t think about leaving until they rooted out their resident terrorist.

“Folks, I’m afraid we all have to get back to work,” Parker said, clapping his hands as he stepped back from the handrail. “Come on. Get back with your buddy, and return to what you were doing before.”

He could sound forceful when he wanted to, and people immediately jumped into action. Ruth saw people pairing up again and heading back inside to resume their work. Stella lingered for a few more seconds, staring off in the direction of the vanishing cruise ship.

“That means you too,” Ruth told her. She turned her granddaughter gently to face Kay, who was waiting near the door.

“Come on, kid,” Kay said, beckoning her. “Let’s get back to work. No cruising for us today. Cruise ships are overrated anyway. Trust me. Long lines, big crowds, smelly people.”

Stella sighed, nodded, and headed back toward the door. That left Ruth, Parker, John, and Curtis standing outside.

“Well, the workers certainly respond to you quickly,” Ruth said to Parker. “Faster than they respond to me.”

“You just have to raise your voice a little more,” Parker said with a smile. “You’ve got the authority, boss. You just need to wield it.”

“They know you better than they know me,” Ruth said. “That’s a good thing. I may have you act as the crew manager from now on, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” he replied.

“I should probably send you back to work with Kay, then,” Ruth said. “You’ll need to be close to the workers.”

If she had any hope of figuring out who their saboteur was, she needed someone the crew trusted implicitly on her side.

21

Working with Kay couldn’t have been more awkward. The woman wasn’t exactly mean, not to Stella, but she didn’t hide the fact that she was in a foul mood. There was a lot of sarcasm and sighing, and Stella just didn’t have the will or desire to break through it. So, mostly, she just tried to do her work and mind her own business, waiting for the glorious end to all of this.

I don’t want to be on this oil platform any longer, she thought, not for the first time. Why did I climb out of that lifeboat? What was I thinking?

It was too late to change it now, but as she returned to the work of rounding up supplies, she found herself daydreaming about landing on some beautiful tropical island with the cruise ship people. Ricardo was right. That would be a whole lot better than this. Fresh pineapples, beaches, fresh fish, no dark and grimy hallways.

“We can’t drag every single loose item in every room throughout this entire facility into the control room. There’s not enough space in there, especially if the new boss intends to get the new console working again.” That was Kay’s current complaint as she led Stella down the hallway into the rec room. “But I guess that’s what they want us to do.”

“I guess so,” Stella replied, holding the straps of her backpack.

“It’s just busy work,” Kay added. “That’s the thing. Something to keep everyone preoccupied so we can pretend like we’re making progress.”

Well, I wish it would keep your mouth preoccupied so you’d stop complaining, Stella thought. If only she’d been bold enough to say it.

Fortunately, as they were passing through the rec room, she heard her grandmother calling her name. Looking back, she saw Ruth, John, Curtis, and Parker coming around the corner, rushing to meet them.

“Kay, Stella, hold up,” Ruth said.

Oh, God, please rescue me from this woman, Stella thought.

At first, it seemed like Kay was going to keep walking, but finally, she turned and waited. Parker strode forward.

“Kay, we’re getting the band back together,” he said with his usual smile. Stella had known the man long enough now that she knew the smile wasn’t always entirely genuine. Sometimes, he used it to cover up awkwardness.

“What does that even mean?” Kay replied.

“You and I are buddies again,” Parker said. “We’re going to manage the rest of the team. Our noble Stella has some other work to attend to.”

Stella was so relieved, she almost let out a little whoop of excitement, but she caught herself. Parker walked right past her and kept going to Kay.

“Every other minute, we’re being told to do something different,” Kay said.

“A little curveball now and again is good for you,” Parker said, beckoning her. “It keeps you on your toes. Come on. Let’s go see what the other teams are doing. We might have to whip a few of them into shape, especially if they’re standing around talking about the cruise ship.”

Kay looked briefly at Ruth, scowled, then followed Parker across the rec room. Only when she was out of the room did Stella breathe an audible sigh of relief.

“Thanks, Gran,” Stella said. “That woman is just so difficult to work with. I don’t know how to handle unfriendly people.”

“Well, for the time being, why don’t you buddy up with Curtis here,” Ruth said.

The younger fisherman tipped his baseball cap to her. Stella found him intimidating, but in a much different way than Kay. He was friendly, roughly the same age as her, and had a pleasant, rugged look. Certainly better than partnering with a surly woman who made it known that she didn’t like her gran. Curtis strode forward and stood beside her.

“What are we supposed to work on now?” Stella asked.

Ruth held her hands up. “Honestly, I don’t really have any specific work for the two of you right now. I have to figure some things out on my own, so I just need time to think. You and Curtis can talk about it and find something to do.”

“What about me?” John asked. Curtis’s father looked exactly like an older, more grizzled version of Curtis, and it was obvious to Stella that he had a glimmer in his eye for Ruth.

“I don’t know,” Ruth replied. “You’re my buddy, so just stick close for now. I have to think, and I’m going to use the control room to do it. Come on.”

And with that, she turned and headed back down the hallway, leaving Stella and Curtis standing alone in the rec room. Stella was instantly awkward and very self-conscious, and she began looking around for something to do. The tables in the rec room had all been pushed together, and there were still some packs of playing cards scattered about on top of unrolled schematics.

Stella noticed a dog dish sitting on the floor near the table. “We haven’t seen poor Bestie for hours.”

“Yeah, after we found Dennis, the dog just sort of vanished,” Curtis replied. “I think we scared the heck out of that poor girl.”

“I hope she’s okay,” Stella said.

“Let’s hope she just found a good hiding spot. Dogs pick up on stress and tension in the humans around them. When we all calm down, she’ll calm down.”

“I sure hope so,” Stella said. “She’s so sweet and friendly, and she’s already been traumatized in her life. She deserves better.”

“Yeah, sometimes I think humans don’t deserve dogs. If she’s hiding, it’s best to let her hide. She’ll feel safer.”

“Well now what? We could sit and play a game, if you want. Do you know gin rummy? I used to play that with my sister.”

“Not really,” Curtis replied. “I’m more of a poker or blackjack kind of guy, but I’d be willing to learn. Actually…” He took his hat off and fanned his face. When he did, it revealed the bandage on his head, which had come loose and blood was seeping through. He jammed the hat back on. “I kind of had an idea. I was going to say something earlier, but then the cruise ship caught everyone’s attention.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, I know it sounds crazy, but I was going to suggest that we climb back down to our fishing boat,” Curtis said. “It doesn’t seem like it’s going anywhere, and we left the lift there. I know it would be a little bit scary lowering ourselves down to the boat, but there are a lot of parts we could salvage from her before she sinks. Lots of electronics and wires. Maybe we could use them somehow to get the console up and running. What do you think?”

Stella frowned. It seemed a dangerous proposition. She almost outright refused, but then a thought occurred to her. Though she didn’t much care about salvaging wires, there was another possible use for the boat.

“Do you suppose it’s seaworthy?” she asked. “I mean, how bad was the damage to the hull?”

“As far as I could tell, the damage was all above the waterline. I don’t know. Let’s go take a look. Ruth said we could figure out whatever we want to do.”

And if it’s in good condition, maybe it could get us to that island, Stella thought. She almost said it, but she decided to keep this to herself for the time being. She didn’t want her gran to get wind of what she was thinking.

“Well, I don’t like the idea of going down the lift, to be honest. I’m not great with heights,” Stella said, “but looking around the boat seems like a good idea. We just left it there, after all.”

“Exactly. Come on. We’ll be real careful on the lift. Don’t worry. I’m not reckless. Can you imagine if we found something to get the console up and running again? That would really reveal our saboteur, whoever it is.”

“Whoever it is,” Stella echoed.

As they made their way down the hall, she considered asking her grandmother for permission to descend to the fishing boat, but the control room door was closed. Possibly locked. Anyway, Gran was trying to figure out how to catch their saboteur. Stella didn’t want to give her something else to worry about, so she walked past the control room and kept going.

“We’ll do this as carefully as possible,” Curtis said as they approached the exterior door. “The last thing we need is either of us to get hurt.”

They stepped outside to find that the wind had died down quite a bit. The lift to the boat was on the lower level, so they headed down the ramp. When Gran had first descended to the boat to rescue John and Curtis, they’d created a pulley system that used a winch to raise and lower the lift. Though they had operated the ropes from above, it should be possible to raise and lower the ropes using the winch on the platform itself.

“Do you want me to try the lift first and make sure it’s safe?” Curtis asked. “Then you can follow?”

Stella shook her head. “Heck, no, I’m not going down the lift by myself. We’ll do it together. You can control the ropes, though. I think I’d much rather just hold on tightly with both hands.”

“Okay, and we can use your backpack to bring up any useful stuff we find,” he said.

She tightened the straps of her backpack and stepped up onto the lift. Curtis took up a position on the opposite corner, which put him beside the winch. Stella grabbed firmly to the nearest rope with both hands and clamped her eyes shut. She could feel the platform swaying slightly beneath her, the wind howling in the gap below.

Maybe this was a bad idea, she thought. But she wasn’t backing out now.

“Okay, here we go,” Curtis said. At least he sounded confident. “Don’t worry, we’ll be safe.”

She heard the creaking of the winch, the whirring of pulleys. The platform shook, and then it began to descend. Stella tightened her grip. The roar of the waves, the splash of water against the supports, the occasional thump-thump of the boat hull against the oil platform all grew louder.

“Okay,” Curtis said after a moment. “We made it. You can open your eyes.”

She dared to turn her face and open one eye, and she saw the big blue fishing boat right in front of her.

“Well, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be,” she said. “It went by so quickly.”

She stepped onto the deck, felt it swaying beneath her, and reached out to steady herself against the cabin wall. Curtis followed her on board, leaving the lift platform to dangle just above the forward deck of the small vessel.

“Dad named her the Blue Diamond,” he said. “What do you think? Does she look better or worse up close?”

Now that she was on board, Stella thought that it was actually quite a lovely little boat. Though the water was rough, the vessel was still pressed up against the support post, with the top edge of the hull near the front of the boat dented against the concrete corner. This served to keep it in place relatively well.

“I’m surprised it didn’t sink,” Stella said. “It seems to be in good shape.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to know we can use her, if it comes to that,” he said. “If we have to escape some secret maniac and sail away, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, I know,” she replied. “I’ve been thinking about that cruise ship island a lot.”

“Me too.”

They both laughed, and it was such a genuine moment, such a moment of relief, that Stella felt her face flush. Fortunately, Curtis was already headed into the cabin, so he didn’t seem to notice.

“Well, if we decide to head out, we’ll have to create a sail somehow,” he said. “In the meantime, let’s loot the old Blue Diamond and see what we can find.”

Stella didn’t know the boat, so she followed Curtis around. They went through cabinets and drawers, opening up panels and hatches, and removed anything that looked useful. Soon, Stella’s backpack was filling up with wires, bits of electronics, tools, and small tech devices. Fortunately, she had unpacked some of her stuff in her room, so there was plenty of space in the big pocket. As they worked, they chatted, and he was so easy to talk to that Stella soon found herself opening up far more than she ever thought she would.

“I guess I always wanted to grow up to be like my gran,” she said. “She pretty much raised me, you know. My mom died of cancer when I was young. My dad wasn’t in the picture. Gran took on a lot of the typical mothering role stuff. I’ve always looked up to her. She’s the most accomplished person in my immediate family, and she’s really smart and confident and kind of intimidating. She’s why I went into STEM when I got to college.”

“Is that why you came on this trip?” Curtis asked as he rooted around in the guts of a broken fishing net lift.

“Yeah,” Stella said. “I really wanted to impress her, but mostly I think I’ve just gotten in her way. She seems annoyed with me no matter what I’m doing.”

Curtis shut the hatch on the lift and turned to her. “I can relate to that. When my dad retired and became a fisherman, he made it very clear that he intends for me to take over the boat someday. I know it’s his dream that I would continue the business once he can no longer do it, but…” He shook his head and shoved some mechanical parts into the backpack that Stella was holding open for him. “He’s also made it pretty clear that he doesn’t actually believe I can do it. When it’s just the two of us on the boat, he’s always snapping at me.”

“So we’re both a disappointment to the people we want to impress the most,” Stella said, shoving the mechanical parts deep down into the backpack. The pocket was getting pretty full.

“Yep, that’s about the size of it,” Curtis said, shutting the hatch on the lift motor. “I helped my dad rebuild this boat. I thought it would show him that I’m capable. Not just capable, but willing. I’m not one of those kids who resents having to take over the family business. I want to do it, and I can do it.”

“Well, the boat seems like it’s in good shape,” Stella said, looking around. “You guys did a good job on it.”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t have an anchor anymore, and it’s not going to be hauling any large nets of fish without its arm here. But as a vessel that floats? Yeah, it’ll do. How’s your backpack? Is it getting too heavy?”

She showed him the bulging pocket.

“Do you want me to carry that?” he asked.

Stella shook her head. “Nah, I like to carry it. It’s sort of comforting.”

“I understand.” He took the baseball cap off his head and held it up. “That’s pretty much the same reason I wear this thing all the time, even when I’m indoors. Anyway, I think we’ve got about as much as we can carry. Shall we head back up?”

“Sure,” she said.

As he rose, he gave her a brief, awkward smile. “Hey, this was fun, don’t you think?” He had a nice smile. It made his eyes squinch up ever so slightly.

“It was fun,” Stella replied.

“Okay, before we head up, I think there’s one more thing we should do. Something that will ensure our boat doesn’t drift away.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“I’ll show you.”

He led her to the front of the boat, where a length of anchor chain was coiled on the deck. They took a moment to wrap the anchor chain through a gap in the support post. They tied it off as best they could, hoping it would keep the boat securely in place. Then they shoved a couple of boat bumpers between the hull and the post to prevent further damage to the hull.

“At least we know we have an escape option, if we need one,” Stella said.

“Yep, I just wish there was some way to rebuild an engine for the boat, since the EMP fried the last one,” Curtis said, adjusting his hat and stepping back to admire their handiwork.

“Maybe there is,” Stella said. “If we put our minds together.”

“Maybe so,” he said. “Come on.”

And with that he headed to the lift. Stella was so invigorated by their secret adventure that she dared to keep her eyes open on the way back up. Somehow, it wasn’t as intimidating as she’d thought it would be. She saw ocean stretching out forever around them and felt a surge of excitement rather than fear.

This was a little like going on a date, she thought. I wonder if he realized that.

Curtis was busy focusing on winding the pulley, so she dared to give him a lingering look. She found herself daydreaming about sailing off to a tropical island with beautiful beaches and plenty of fresh fruit, a place where an EMP didn’t matter, with Curtis at her side.

But then they reached the platform, and the adventure was over for now. She stepped over the handrail, waited for Curtis, then headed for the ramp.

“You know, if we go back inside and they see us, we might get assigned some drudgery,” she said. “And if my grandmother finds out we went onto the boat, she’ll surely put us to work. She thinks I’m going to wander off like a kid.”

“Yeah, my dad’s the same,” he said. “There are other ways into the building, aren’t there? I’m pretty sure I spotted more exterior doors, including a door around the back that leads to the living quarters. If we go in that way, they might not spot us.”

“Okay. Let’s go for it.”

He gave her a big, handsome smile and headed toward the building at the top of the ramp, rounding a corner away from the main door. They walked around the building, picking their way between the painted metal supports, and rounded the next corner as well. Finally, they came in sight of a back door. However, from this side of the building, she could see the narrow bridge that stretched over a gap toward the second building on the other side of the oil platform.

“This is our secret entrance,” Curtis said, pulling the back door open and holding it for her.

She stepped through the door and found herself at the end of the hallway where the workers’ quarters were located. Curtis followed, then eased the door so it shut without making any noise. Stella had a small flashlight, but it was in the backpack beneath all of the scavenged parts, so they found themselves in darkness.

“Honestly, I forgot for a second that we don’t have any lights in here,” Curtis said in a whisper.

“I have one of the smaller flashlights in my backpack,” Stella replied. “Let me get it.”

But before she could reach for the backpack, she heard the creak of a door somewhere down the hallway. Dim light shone out of an open door near the far corner of the hallway, and a shadowy figure stepped through. Stella knew that shape all too well. The short, stocky form of Kay. She was alone. Her buddy, Parker, did not follow her through the door. As the door swung shut behind her, Stella caught a glimpse of a bed inside, a familiar shape covered in a blanket.

It's Dennis’s room, she thought, and that’s Dennis’s dead body on the bed.

Suddenly, she felt a cold shiver run up her spine. Kay turned to her left and headed away from them, rounding the corner with scarcely a sound and disappearing. A few seconds passed before Curtis leaned in close and whispered to Stella.

“What the heck was she doing in that room?” he asked. “And where’s Parker? He’s supposed to be her buddy.”

“I don’t know,” Stella said. “We need to tell someone.”

“Yeah, but maybe we should check that room first,” Curtis replied.

Stella felt a little stab of fear at the thought. But maybe he was right. If they took a quick look, they might be able to figure out what she was doing in there, and then they’d have something more to report.

“Okay, but we have to do this really fast,” she whispered. “We don’t want her to find us in there.”

“Yeah, really fast,” he agreed.

He headed off down the hallway, little more than a shadow in front of her. Stella followed, her arms stretched out to either side to feel her way along, dread filling her chest.

You’re getting worked up over nothing, she told herself. Kay might have just been doing a routine check on the body for some reason.

Somehow, she couldn’t make herself believe it. They reached the door, and Curtis slowly turned the handle. As he eased the door open, Stella saw that there was one of Clark’s candles flickering on a desk near the bed. Vanilla cookie, she noted. Stella took a quick look down the hall before stepping into the room.

Once she entered the door, Curtis followed her and eased the door shut behind them. She turned to look at the body on the bed. They were, for the moment, alone.

“The blanket’s been moved,” she noted.

Part of the blanket was folded back, as if someone had lifted it to look at Dennis. The side of his body closest to the door was now exposed.

“Why would Kay come in here to look at a corpse?” Curtis said. “That doesn’t make any sense to me. He’s dead. What else is there to see?”

“I don’t know,” Stella said, “but I don’t like seeing him partially uncovered like that.”

She approached the bed. As she did, Curtis grabbed something off the desk near the candle. There was a click, and a big flashlight beam shone across the body.

“Someone left this here,” he said.

Stella lifted the blanket, intending to pull it back into place. As she did, she uncovered the face and shoulders of the dead worker. His flesh was gray, his eyes partially open, lips pulled back slightly to reveal his teeth.

“Whoa, what’s that?” Curtis said, aiming the flashlight at his neck.

It took Stella a second to see what he was referring to. Distinctive marks on his throat. Dark red and black stripes ran across his Adam’s apple and around both sides. Stella had read enough true crime books and blogs to know what she was looking at.

“Ligature marks,” she said. “He was strangled.”

“But…” The flashlight beam wobbled. “How did nobody notice them before? We carried his dead body all the way here from the rec room, laid him on this bed, and nobody saw the marks on his neck?”

“Maybe they were covered by his jacket. Or maybe they hadn’t shown up yet. From what I’ve read, they can take a while to appear on a body,” Stella said. Shaking with fear, she looked at Curtis.

He leaned in closer to the body, to the neck, examining the marks. “So what does this mean?”

“It means Dennis didn’t die from electrocution,” Stella said. “I know he had burns on his fingertips, but that’s not what killed him. He was strangled to death. Someone murdered him.”

22

Ruth tried to help, but there just wasn’t enough room in front of the generator for two people to reach inside. Ultimately, she stood back and watched John do most of the work. He’d removed the carburetor and was working with small tools to clean out whatever gunk had been stuffed in there. It took a while.

“It’s like really old oil mixed with dirt,” John said, scraping some of the gunk off the tip of a screwdriver into a small plastic container. “I wonder if the saboteur scraped this gunk out of the drill? That would be my guess.”

“What can I do to help?” Ruth asked.

“I think I’ve got this,” John said. “It’s dirty work, but I’ll get the generator running again. Why don’t you take it easy for a while? You’ve had a lot to deal with lately.”

“Well, you’re not wrong about that.” Ruth finally walked over to one of the control room’s padded chairs and sat down. She was finding it hard to concentrate on anything but the current chain of events. How in the world were they supposed to root out the terrorist in their midst without potentially inducing some desperate response?

Kay’s at the top of the list, she thought, but she’s been so hostile and difficult lately. Would our resident saboteur really be so obvious, especially if she were trying to hide her identity?

“Somehow, I need to goad our saboteur into revealing him or herself,” she said.

“Well, I can think of one good way to provoke a response,” John replied.

“How’s that?”

The generator suddenly roared to life. It sounded stronger now, louder. Ruth waited a few seconds, but it didn’t sputter out and die this time. John had fixed it. Ruth was so excited that she rose from the chair and went to John, patting him vigorously on the back. He, in turn, gave her a big, proud smile. And was the man blushing just a little bit? Ruth thought so.

“Boy, I’m glad you showed up,” Ruth said. “What would I do without you?”

“Aw, shucks, ma’am,” he said, tipping the brim of his cap at her. “I’m just here to help.”

“Okay, shut off the generator so we can save the fuel.”

He flicked the power switch to shut off the generator. It wound down with a throaty growl.

“If our saboteur knows we have power, don’t you think that might entice them to act?” he said.

“Quite possibly,” Ruth said. “Of course, it doesn’t help us get the new tech working unless we can replace the cut wire.”

John rose, massaging his back, and turned from the generator. “Actually, I was thinking about that a little bit. We might be able to open up the older computer system and find a compatible part that would enable us to bypass the missing plug. There’s a soldering iron in the toolbox that might come in handy. What do you think?”

“I think it’s a reasonable idea,” she said. “Let me get the console open for the old system.”

Of course, the old system was on the other side of the room, which was now filled to the ceiling with their bags and boxes of supplies. Still, with the newer console moved away from the wall, she found she could squeeze in behind it. Ruth grabbed a screwdriver off the table and worked her way in behind the old console. Then she began pushing it, inch by inch, away from the wall. She found the access panel for the old system on the back of the console, and she gradually managed to wedge herself into the gap.

“Do you need help?” John asked.

“No, no, I’ve got it,” she replied. However, she could see that the screws in the corners of the panel were stripped badly. She tried to unscrew them anyway, but it was hopeless. She only made them worse. Still, now that she’d refused John’s help, she was embarrassed to turn around and take it back. She tried prying the panel open with the screwdriver, but she just couldn’t get enough leverage.

“Okay, okay,” she said, leaning back against the wall. When she looked up, she saw John standing nearby, ready to help. Ruth took a deep breath. “Yeah, I could use some help. I can’t get this panel open. It’s old, and the screws are stripped.”

John smiled brightly at this. Clearly, it meant a lot to him to help. Ruth was comfortable being self-reliant, but had to admit, even if only to herself, there was value in accepting that she needed others. Despite all of their troubles, she seemed to have made John’s day just by letting him open a panel.

She worked her way out from behind the old console and squeezed past John, handing him the screwdriver.

“I’ll see what I can do,” John said.

To be fair, John was quite a bit stronger than her. The man had some impressive arms. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled back, and he had well-defined muscles in his forearms. He sat down behind the console and examined the old panel as Ruth watched him.

“I wonder if these screws were stripped on purpose,” he said. “They might just be old. I don’t know. Hard to tell.”

“I think there’s a crowbar in the toolbox,” Ruth said.

“This screwdriver should work. Just needs a bit of leverage.”

He worked the end of the screwdriver under the edge of the panel and began levering it back and forth. The panel creaked and bent. And then one of the screws gave a loud crack and popped loose. Then a second screw popped loose. From there, John was able to grab the panel with both hands and pull the whole thing off. He set it aside.

“There you go,” he said. “It’s wide open now. You can handle it from here.”

And with that, he rose, handed her the screwdriver, and returned to the generator. She appreciated the fact that he didn’t take over for her completely, and he was careful not to step on her toes. He’d only offered to help with the one task when she was clearly struggling, and then he quickly got out of the way.

Ruth had spent years in academia dealing with smart and capable men who frequently talked over her, offered explanations that weren’t needed, insisted on helping when no help was requested, and generally treated her like she was incompetent despite her experience and education. Usually, when one of her male colleagues offered to help with a single task, she had to brace herself not to have the entire project wrested away from her.

But John wasn’t like that. He went right back to the generator and sat down.

“Thanks, John,” she said, stepping behind the console. “I appreciate it.” He probably assumed she was talking about removing the panel, but she meant so much more than that.

“Any time.”

Ruth pulled the flashlight from her jacket pocket and shone it inside the old console. She saw a tangle of wires and electronic boards, but everything in there was coated with a choking amount of dust. It was a mess, and she knew rooting around inside for replacement parts was going to be sneeze-inducing.

“They could clean in here from time to time,” she said. “I think it’s safe to say our saboteur hasn’t opened this panel.”

“You might want to wear a mask,” John said. “It’s not good to breathe all of that dust. There are a few in the toolbox.”

“Yeah, toss me one, would you?”

She heard him rooting in the toolbox, but just then, someone knocked on the locked control room door. It was frantic knocking. Ruth pulled herself out from behind the console and traded a worried look with John.

Someone found another dead body, she thought. We didn’t act fast enough.

She went to the door, and John came with her, bearing a heavy wrench in one hand. As she got close, Ruth heard someone breathing fast and shallow. She unlocked the door and eased it open, raising the flashlight to reveal who was on the other side.

“Let us in. Let us in,” the voice said.

The door was shoved against Ruth, forcing her backward, as Stella pushed her way into the room. She was out of breath, eyes wide. Curtis came with her, and he quickly shut the door behind him and turned the lock.

“What in the world is going on?” Ruth said, stepping aside so they could pass.

Stella pulled her backpack off, letting it thump to the floor, and collapsed on a padded chair. Curtis sat down on the floor beside her, whipping off his baseball cap and fanning his face with it.

“Is everything all right, son?” John asked.

But they were both struggling to catch their breath, as if they’d been running. Finally, Stella took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and spoke.

“We saw something,” she said, fumbling with her backpack straps.

“It was her,” Curtis said. “Kay. She was coming out of a bedroom and didn’t see us at the end of the hall.”

Ruth turned and traded another concerned look with John. Of course it was Kay. “What was she doing?” Ruth asked.

“She was in the room with Dennis’s body,” Stella said, dabbing her forehead with the end of her sleeve. “After she left, we went in to make sure she hadn’t messed with anything, and the blanket covering him was pulled back on one corner.”

“You should have come and told us before you investigated,” Ruth said. “I don’t want you two taking unnecessary risks.”

“Well, it already happened, so it doesn’t matter now,” Stella said. “We already went in there, and we saw something. Grandma, marks have developed on the body. On his neck.” She pointed, dragging a finger across the throat. “Ligature marks. Black and blue..”

Ruth went cold. “Are you sure about this?”

“We both saw it,” Curtis said. “They were like thick bruise lines that went around his throat.”

“But why was Kay in there?” John asked. “Why would she want to examine the dead body now?”

The answer seemed obvious to Ruth. “Checking to see if evidence had developed. Making sure no one else has been in there to look at the body.”

“You think she did it?” John asked. “Kay strangled Dennis?”

“We have to consider the possibility,” Ruth replied. She turned to Stella and Curtis. They were both clearly freaked out. “Listen, we’re going to keep this information to ourselves for now. Don’t breathe a word to anyone else.”

“Why would she kill him?” Stella asked. “What does that accomplish? What’s the point?”

“Well, we’ve known for a while that we have a saboteur in our midst,” Ruth explained, “possibly someone affiliated with this AILS group. All signs point to Kay being that individual. Maybe Dennis saw something he wasn’t supposed to see. Maybe he overheard something, and she killed him to cover her tracks. I don’t know. But we don’t want her to know that she’s our primary suspect. Not yet.”

“And if she keeps killing people?” Stella asked.

“Well, we need concrete evidence that she’s the guilty party before we make our move,” Ruth said.

“Coming out of the room with the corpse isn’t concrete evidence?” Stella said, her voice rising.

Ruth signaled her to keep quiet. “I want to catch her in the act of sabotage. If I can get a direct connection like that, we can accuse her publicly.”

Curtis put the cap back on his head, pulling it down carefully over his bandage. “What if we set a trap for her?” he suggested. “Like bait on a hook.”

“What did you have in mind?” Ruth asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, ma’am. You’re the smartest person in the room. You can probably come up with the best way to do it. I just figure if we could entice her somehow, she might finally reveal herself.”

Ruth nodded. She needed something concrete to tie Kay to the sabotage or the deaths. Suspicion wouldn’t do it, and if she made an accusation without real evidence, and they were wrong, well they would have played their only hand and the real saboteur would still be out there.

“Okay, let’s figure something out,” she said. “If Kay is responsible for all of this, we need to stop her before she acts again. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’d rather not deal with any more dead bodies.”

23

“Somehow, we need to convince Kay that we’re on the verge of getting the power back on,” Ruth said. “That might force her hand. She’ll do something desperate to stop us, and then we’ll know for sure.”

John was pacing in the small space between the supplies and the table in the corner, arms crossed. “Is there some way to make a nonfunctioning computer console look like it’s working? Then we could pretend like we’re contacting the mainland.”

“I don’t want to goad her into damaging the actual console,” Ruth said, “We need it. Maybe we could cobble together some crude electronic device and make her think it’s a functioning shortwave radio. If it blinked or had flashing lights, all the better. So what can we come up with based on the parts we have here?”

“She won’t fall for it.” Stella said. Ruth noted that her granddaughter’s backpack seemed fuller than usual. It was practically bursting at the seams. “This woman has been smart enough to kill people and sabotage equipment without being caught. She’s not going to hear a few beeps and blips and think we built a new shortwave radio from scraps.”

Curtis was sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her, idly running his finger across the dusty floor. “There’s an easier way,” he said. He glanced at Stella, and Ruth saw guilt in his eyes. “Um…Stella and I went somewhere…”

“We went down to the boat,” Stella said.

“Why would you do that?” Ruth said. Under the circumstances, she could scarcely get worked up about it, but it was still foolish enough that it needed to be addressed. “That was unsafe.”

“Salvaging equipment,” Curtis said. He made a little gesture at Stella, and she sat up and unzipped the big pocket on the backpack. “Sorry, it was a dangerous idea, I guess, but it might help us out.”

Stella seemed to know what he wanted. She dug into the backpack and pulled out a piece of equipment, holding it up in both hands to show the others.

“The old ham radio?” John said. “You fished that out of the cabinet behind the seats?”

“Yeah, I thought we might be able to find a replacement part for the cut wires,” Curtis said. “What if we called another meeting in the cafeteria and told everyone that we’d figured out a way to get this radio working? Then we could find some highly visible place to rig an antenna and wait to see if she tries to damage it.”

“That’s a good idea,” Ruth replied. It was a brilliant idea, and she could see exactly how it might play out. “Our saboteur should make a desperate attempt to stop us from calling out. All we have to do is catch her in the act.”

She considered this young fisherman who seem quite pleased with his idea. He’d come up with the idea of going back down to the boat for salvage, something that hadn’t crossed Ruth’s mind.

I have to stop underestimating people, she told herself.

“Heck, maybe we’ll actually get the ham radio working again,” Curtis said. “Then we could actually call for help. But even if we can’t do that, we can at least entice our saboteur out into the open.”

“Young man, you need to speak up more often,” Ruth said. “You have some great ideas. Why don’t you and Stella head up onto the platform and find a place to build a very conspicuous antenna for the radio? I’ll call another meeting during lunch and break the news. Once everyone is there, then come in and announce that you’re working on the antenna. Then we’ll see how people react.”

Curtis rose, grinned proudly at Stella—who returned the grin with enthusiasm—and the two of them headed out of the control room. He had the ham radio in his arms, as Stella returned the heavy, clanking backpack to her shoulders.

“He’s a smart kid,” John said once they were gone. “I don’t give him enough credit sometimes.”

“You raised him right,” Ruth said. “Come on. Let’s go call that meeting. I think we’re close to figuring this out.”

Ruth and John headed out of the control room and down the hall. The work teams had continued to gather supplies from throughout the oil platform, but they were now stacking them along the wall in the hallway. Eventually, it would all have to be moved into the control room, but Ruth decided to wait on that. They had a more pressing plan in the works.

They found Parker and Kay in the back hallway, pushing a handcart with some additional tools. Kay gave her a strange, unfriendly look, and Ruth wondered if there wasn’t some guilt in the glance.

Outside on the deck, though, she found one of the workers, Andy, she thought his name was, staring at the shore. She walked over to see what he was looking at.

The fires were spreading making it look like the entire mainland was in flames.

“It seems like the whole world is burning…” he said. She wasn’t even sure he was speaking to her.

Before she could answer, they saw a huge balloon of smoke rise into the air. They couldn’t hear anything, but she was sure something had exploded. She just shook her head.

“We’ll have something to eat, soon,” she told him and he nodded, still watching the fires in the distance. She asked Parker to summon the other workers to the cafeteria. Then she went with John to prepare a hasty lunch.

Within half an hour, they had set out some lunch meats, bread, cheese, and fruit. They laid it all out neatly on one of the cafeteria tables, along with some bottled drinks. By then, workers were beginning to enter the cafeteria. Ricardo and Ignacio came first. The poor guys looked spooked.

Do they know more than they’re letting on? Ruth wondered. Have they seen or heard more from Kay?

She directed them to the food table, and they began making sandwiches. Soon, the room was filled with workers, but Ruth waited until everyone but Curtis and Stella were there. Most of the workers ate. A few just grabbed sodas or water. Kay touched nothing and sat unhappily with Parker.

“How are we doing, boss?” Parker asked, as he made himself a sandwich. He looked frustrated. Dealing with Kay’s surliness seemed to be wearing on him. “Did we earn a Christmas bonus this year?”

“You’re all doing great,” Ruth replied, taking up her position at the front of the room. Her gaze went briefly to the kitchen door. She half expected to see Bestie lying there, but the dog hadn’t come out of hiding yet. If she ever would. John stood beside Ruth, his arms crossed over his chest. “Everyone has been working hard without taking any breaks.” She gestured to the food on the table. “With the power out, we need to eat this food before it goes bad. So, please, eat up and enjoy. After, I want everyone to take the rest of the day off. Eat. Relax.”

This got some murmurs of approval from most of the people in the room. Even Kay looked up and nodded.

“While you’re eating,” Ruth continued, “I do have some possible good news to share. John and I have been working hard to try to get some system up and running around here, and it’s been a challenge. However, it seems we’ve finally stumbled on a possible solution to our predicament.”

This put an end to all whispered conversation, and every eye fixed upon her. Ruth quickly scanned the crowd, looking for any hint of suspicion or disapproval. However, she saw only interest. Even Kay and Jorge, her top suspects, just looked back with curious expressions.

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense,” Parker said with a smile. “What’s the solution, boss?”

“It’s possible that we’ve found a way to call out from the oil platform,” Ruth said.

This caused excited murmurs and whispers to go through the room. Workers looked at each other. The ones who were eating ceased to eat.

“Have you done it yet?” Parker asked. “Have you called out? Please, tell us help is on the way, boss. You have no idea how ready I am to get out of here. I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we’ll all be very happy to get off this hunk of metal.”

This got many nods of approval from other workers. Even Kay nodded.

“When are they coming?” That was Jorge. Normally so quiet. But he didn’t seem upset by the news. If anything, he was more excited than usual. “Are they headed this way right now?”

“Now, now, don’t get ahead of us,” Ruth said, raising her hands to try to quiet the crowd. When people only got louder, John finally stepped forward and cleared his throat. This worked. “We’re still working on it. We don’t have a functioning radio yet, just an idea and a plan.”

And then, as if on cue, Curtis and Stella strode into the room. He had a wrench in one hand and a bundle of wires in the other—props, clearly, meant to prove that he was working. He walked up to Ruth, glanced nervously at the crowd, then told her, “Sorry to interrupt, ma’am. Just wanted to tell you that we’ve found a good spot for the antenna.”

“Oh, very good,” Ruth said. “And where is that?”

“At the edge of the helicopter platform,” Curtis said.

“How’s it coming along?”

“Actually, we could use your help,” he said. “Would you mind coming out and taking a look at what we’re doing?”

“Sure, I’ll be there in a minute,” she said. “Grab some food and I’ll meet you out there.”

Curtis nodded and they both made quick sandwiches before hurrying out. Ruth scanned the crowd. Most were watching Curtis and Stella leave the cafeteria. A few were chatting now. But everyone seemed genuinely excited. Even Kay looked like she’d come out of her angry funk. She wasn’t quite smiling, but there was a hint of something positive there. Indeed, no one in the room seemed upset by the news that they were installing an antenna to call for help.

Did we read this situation wrong? she wondered.

Ruth let the crowd chat for a while, but finally she motioned at John to call them to order. He cleared his throat again and said, “Okay, folks, I know it’s good news, but listen up for a bit, okay?” When that didn’t work, he snapped, “Quiet down! Listen to the boss!”

Conversations tapered off, but everyone seemed so happy.

And if we can’t actually get the ham radio working, I’m going to break a lot of hearts, Ruth thought. Damn. But if it roots out the saboteur, I guess it’s worth it.

“Okay, so we’re working to get a radio up and running,” Ruth told the workers. “I can’t guarantee that it’ll work, but our chances seem fairly good. I’ll head outside in a couple of minutes to help Curtis get the antenna installed, and then we’ll see what happens. As for the rest of you, enjoy your meal and take it easy. I’ll keep you updated as soon as I have news to report.”

“Good luck, boss!” That was Ricardo. He gave her a thumbs-up.

“Yeah, good luck,” Ignacio added.

As people returned to their food and conversations, Ruth took a seat at the nearest table and kept her eye on things. Before she went out to help Curtis, she wanted to see if anyone would act strangely. Parker and Kay were sitting farther down the table. They were chatting away, and both seemed happy.

“Are you going to eat anything?” John asked, sitting down across from her.

“I don’t think so,” Ruth replied. “I lost my appetite a long time ago.”

“How long has it been since you’ve had any food? You need nutrition.”

“Fair point,” she said with a sigh. “Okay, I’ll eat something before I head out to meet with Curtis and Stella.”

As she got up, she scanned the room again, looking for anyone who seemed unhappy, worried, or anything other than excited about the news. Either their saboteur was a very good actor, or they weren’t in the room. Was that possible? Could they have a terrorist hiding somewhere on the oil platform that they hadn’t yet seen? Ruth headed for the food table, deeply troubled.

As she was making a sandwich, someone stepped up beside her. He spoke softly, glancing over his shoulder as he did so.

“You’ve figured something out?” Parker said.

Ruth motioned for him to keep his voice down.

“You think you know who it is?” Parker said in a whisper while making himself a sandwich. “Is that what this is all about? Do we know for sure who it is? Can we make our move against them now?”

Ruth shrugged and leaned in close. “I have a suspect. Let’s put it that way. Soon, I may be able to confirm it.”

“Can you tell me?” he asked before shoving most of the sandwich in his mouth. Chewing quickly, he drank from his water bottle and swallowed. “If you can’t, or don’t want to, I understand.”

Ruth looked around the room again. Everyone was deep in conversation now except for Kay, who was eating her sandwich.

“Your work buddy,” Ruth told Parker. “She’s still at the top of the list. More than ever, actually.”

Parker pulled a face, then took a big bite of his sandwich. “I just can’t believe it,” he said. “No way.” He tensed and finished off his sandwich and his shoulders relaxed as he swallowed. Brushing the crumbs onto his jeans, he looked up at her. “Just tell me what I can do to help.”

Ruth considered this. “How about this? Organize some kind of a game night. Get everyone into the rec room and keep them busy having fun.”

“And what will you do?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

Parker saluted her. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll keep them all together, having fun. You do whatever you have to do. When you’re ready to make your move against the guilty party, I’ll be there to help with that too. We’re going to put a stop to this, Ruth.”

“Yeah, I sure hope so,” she said.

“We will,” he said, more insistently.

24

The so-called antenna didn’t look like any radio antenna that Stella had ever seen. Mostly, it was just some metal scraps taped and tied to the handrail at the edge of the helicopter landing pad. But they ran wires from this crude antenna across the helicopter pad toward the outside storage shed, where they’d placed the ham radio and other equipment and tools.

“You know, after riding that lift to the boat, I find that I’m a little less freaked out by walking out here close to the edge,” Stella noted, as they followed the wires back to the shed. “Actually, it’s a really nice view. I think I might even enjoy it.”

“Yeah, it’s a long way down,” Curtis said, “but I’m more nervous about the terrorist hiding on the oil platform among the workers than a little fall into the ocean.”

They entered the shed. A large pallet of boxes took up about half the space. Most of the stuff had been water-damaged, and even now, it still seemed slightly damp. They’d set a chair in a near corner with the ham radio on top of it, then arrayed the tools on the floor nearby. Stella thought it all looked rather conspicuous—maybe a bit too much like a baited trap.

“What do you think the chances are we can get the radio working again?” Stella asked. Her backpack had been mostly emptied. She picked it up off the floor and slipped it over her shoulders.

“Not sure. We’ll have to open it up and check for damage from the EMP. But first, we have to spring this trap and catch the bad guy.”

“Oh, gosh, what if it turns out to be someone we like?” Stella said.

Curtis gave her a sad look. “That would be unfortunate, but since it’s probably that woman Kay, I don’t think we have to worry about that.”

As they left the storage shed, Stella pulled the door shut behind them, careful to ensure that it wasn’t locked. They stepped around the corner to find Ruth approaching them. She was alone.

“Where’s my dad?” Curtis asked as they went to meet her.

Ruth looked back over her shoulder at the exterior door to the oil platform. Then she said with a frown, “He’s parked in the control room, keeping an eye on the supplies. Don’t worry, the door is locked. I just didn’t want to leave all of the stuff in there unguarded.”

“Dad can take care of himself,” Curtis said. “I’m more worried about us.”

“Now what?” Stella asked. “Do we just wait for the suspect to show up and try to damage the antenna?”

“That’s exactly it,” Ruth said. “If we’re lucky, our saboteur will be desperate to stop us from calling out. Let’s find a nice hiding place where we can keep an eye on the antenna and storage shed.”

They walked back along the building to the corner, then weaved their way through some of the support posts. Finally, they tucked themselves into a shadowy spot near the ramp that led down to the lower platform. Stella hunkered down beside one of the support posts, Curtis right behind her. She could hear him breathing fast. The antenna included some shiny material that had no real purpose other than to make it more conspicuous, and it caught the late afternoon sunlight, glinting brightly.

“Would it make more sense if I stayed out there and continued to work on the radio?” Curtis asked. “The saboteur might find it strange that we’ve all just disappeared.”

No, Stella didn’t like that idea at all. Curtis as bait? If the saboteur was desperate enough, they might just push him over the handrail.

“This is someone who has killed people,” Stella reminded him. “If they see you alone, they might attack.”

“Yeah, they killed unsuspecting people,” he replied. “But I’ll be on my toes. No one’s going to get the drop on me. It makes more sense this way.”

Stella looked back. She could tell Ruth thought this was a good idea, but she seemed to be wrestling with it. Finally, Ruth said, “Okay, that’s fine. Stand out there somewhere that we can keep an eye on you, and if someone comes through the door, don’t turn your back on them.”

“Okay, got it,” he replied.

“And don’t stand too close to the handrail,” Ruth added.

“I won’t.”

“This seems unsafe,” Stella said.

Curtis patted her on the back in passing. “Being on an oil platform with a secret terrorist is what’s unsafe, but we’re going to catch this loser. Mark my words, Stella. This is the moment of truth. I just know it.” And with that, he dashed out of hiding and headed back toward the helicopter platform.

As he hurried away, Ruth bent down and said, “We’re right here. As soon as our saboteur shows her hand, we’ll rush out to confront her. Nothing’s going to happen to Curtis. And as for John, he’s safely locked in the control room with access to plenty of makeshift weapons, if it comes to that.”

Curtis had reached the helicopter platform, and he stooped down like he was examining the wires.

“Are we sure Kay is the traitor?” Stella asked. Suddenly, despite every weird thing that had happened, she wondered if they were wrong about all of this. Was it possible that they’d jumped to some extreme conclusions because of the unusual circumstances? “Are we absolutely sure?”

Ruth hesitated a moment before answering. “No, I’m not a hundred percent sure that Kay is the saboteur, but she’s the most likely candidate right now.”

“Just because of her attitude?” Stella asked. “Because she came out of Dennis’s room?”

“That and more,” Ruth replied. “She was present on the oil platform when the sabotage took place, when Clark disappeared, and when Dennis was found dead. Combined with the strangeness of her behavior, it seems likely.”

“Couldn’t some of those things be a coincidence, though?”

“Stella, aren’t you the one who saw her come out of Dennis’s room? Aren’t you the one who found the ligature marks on his neck?”

“Yes and yes, but…” She didn’t want it to be true, that was the thing. She didn’t want to find out that one of these people was a villain. Somehow, she still wanted to find out that every bad thing that had happened was an accident.

“Stella, my dear, always look for patterns of behavior,” Ruth said, “and that’s where you focus your investigation, okay? If we can rule out Kay, that will be great, but for now, she is our chief suspect.”

Stella sighed. She couldn’t argue with that, so she dropped the subject. There was a more troubling question, of course. What were they going to do if and when they uncovered their secret terrorist? How were they going to punish this person? There was no real security on the oil platform, and only a skeleton crew of workers.

We’ll lock her in a room and wait for communication to be restored with the mainland, she thought. It was the thing that made the most sense, but she feared that some might not go along with it. Some might want a swift and more brutal justice.

Curtis was spending an inordinate amount of time staring at the wires that ran from the antenna to the storage shed. As the minutes passed, it looked sillier and sillier, but he only needed to look like he was working when the saboteur showed up. Stella and Ruth both grew quiet. Stella felt anxiety building as the minutes passed. She reached out and pressed her hands to the support post. Her palms felt clammy.

Periodically, she heard Ruth take a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if to calm herself. Stella tried it, and she found that it blunted the sharpest edge of the anxiety, if only for a little while. The minutes continued to pass until she lost track of time. Curtis, at least, had the endurance to just keep faking his work.

The saboteur’s not going to show up, Stella thought. She knows it’s a trap. She’ll wait until we’re forced to go back inside, when we’re not watching the antenna.

It had been at least an hour by then. The sun lay low to the west, casting what looked like long orange flames across the rough ocean water. The wind was chilly, and Stella felt it sink deeper and deeper into her flesh as time passed. She zipped her jacket all the way to her chin and flipped her hood up. Finally, her grandmother must have tired of standing behind her, for she eased herself down onto one knee with a huff.

Do we just wait here until nightfall? Stella wanted to ask, but she was hesitant to break the silence.

And then she heard a familiar sound. A whoosh and squeal of poorly greased heavy hinges followed by the thump of a metal door banging off a wall. Suddenly, Kay strode into view. She’d come from the entry room, and she made a beeline for Curtis. Somehow, she’d ditched her buddy, Parker. She’d put on her heavy waterproof coat and rubber boots, and her hands were deep in the pockets.

At the sight of her, Stella felt a jolt of alarm, and she started to rise. To do what? She did not know. But Ruth put a hand on her shoulder to restrain her.

“Wait,” she whispered. “Watch. Listen.”

Curtis must have heard Kay coming, for he rose from the wires, wiped his hands on his pants, and turned to face her. If he was frightened at the sight of their prime suspect, he didn’t show it. He managed to give her a friendly smile and wave.

“Hey there,” Kay said. “Sorry to bother you. I’m just restless. They’re all in the rec room playing games, but I can’t pay attention.”

Stella feared Kay would keep going right toward him, maybe barrel into him, hit him, stab him, or try to push him back across the helipad. Kay was notably shorter than Curtis, stocky and strong but probably not as muscled as the young fisherman. Still, if she caught him by surprise with her boldness, she might be able to hurt him before he could defend himself.

It made Stella want to rush out there all the more, but Ruth clamped down harder on her shoulder.

“I don’t blame you,” Curtis said. He did a great job of sounding friendly, but Stella knew he must’ve been feeling anxious. “I’d much rather get the radio up and running than play a few rounds of poker. Who can concentrate on a game when we might have a chance to get out of here?”

Kay leaned to one side to look past him, staring at the antenna for a moment. “Have you had any luck getting it up and running? It looks a bit crude, no offense.”

Suddenly, she’s Miss Personality, Stella thought bitterly. She’s been scowling and complaining all day, but all of a sudden, she wants to have a friendly chat with Curtis, who she barely knows.

But Ruth’s grip on her shoulder was tight. Clearly, she was waiting to hear more. Maybe a confession, though that seemed unlikely. Fortunately, Kay was still a safe distance away from Curtis, and he made sure to face her directly.

“Yeah, there’s still some work to do,” he said, “but I think it’s coming along. Heck, I should have it up and running before sunset, and we might get off this oil platform before the morning. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“That would be fantastic,” Kay replied. “I can’t tell you how sick I am of this place.”

He’s doing such a great job, Stella thought. I hope he doesn’t let his guard down.

“Let her approach the antenna,” Ruth muttered, just barely loud enough for Stella to hear. “Come on, Curtis. Let’s see what she does when she can get her hands on it.”

Of course, Curtis couldn’t hear her, but then the door swung open again and the moment was lost. Another person strode outside, the hard soles of his boots thumping on the metal floor. Stella tensed, bracing herself for who it might be.

It was a lean, wiry guy in a gray nylon rain jacket. His hood was down, revealing a bowl of black hair. Stella recognized him, of course, though she’d never exchanged so much as a word with him—Jorge.

Kay heard him coming and whipped around to face him, as if startled. Curtis managed to hold his ground, but Stella could tell by his body language that he was getting more anxious.

“Did you already go all in and lose your chips?” Kay said. “You always take big risks in poker, and they never pay off.”

Jorge waved off her comment. “No, I stopped playing early. It’s a waste of time. I want to do some more work, something productive. If we’re close to getting out of here, I want to help, not sit on my butt and play.”

“Oh,” Kay said.

“Speaking of which, Curtis, have you seen your dad anywhere?” Jorge asked. “I was going to ask for his help with something, but I can’t seem to find him. I thought he might be out here.”

“He’s in the control room,” Curtis replied.

“Well, that’s what Parker told me,” Jorge said, “but the control room door was wide open, and nobody was in there.”

25

For a few seconds, nobody said anything. Kay, Curtis, and Jorge were frozen in the distance, just staring at each other. In the shadows of the pillar, Ruth went cold. John was missing! She’d left him alone for an hour in a locked control room, and he was missing. How could it be?

One hour, she said, fear quickly giving way to fury. I left him in a locked room for one hour, and I told him not to go anywhere. He was surrounded by potential weapons. How did he go missing?

It took her a moment to realize Jorge, Kay, and Curtis had resumed talking.

“John has some experience doing electrical work,” Jorge said. “I needed his help cobbling together a fix for a battery-powered lamp, but I can’t find him. I’ll keep looking.”

“He shouldn’t have gone anywhere,” Curtis said. “He was working in the control room.”

Ruth realized she was still holding fast to Stella’s shoulder, keeping her from running to Curtis. It didn’t matter now. Their plan to catch Kay was ruined now that Jorge had showed up. Assuming it is her, a part of her brain kept reminding Ruth.

“We’ll tell them we were on the lower platform,” Ruth said.

“We’re going out there?” Stella said.

“Yeah, no sense hiding now. Let me lead. Come on.”

Ruth let go of Stella’s shoulder and stepped out from behind the pillar. She cleared her throat to draw the attention of the others. Kay gave her a hard, narrow-eyed stare.

“I thought I heard people talking up here,” Ruth said. “Stella and I were on the lower platform, checking on the fishing boat. Did you say you can’t find John?”

Kay frowned and planted her hands on her hips. “Now, this is curious. I find Curtis here working by himself. John was apparently in the control room all alone. What’s the deal? Have you changed the rules about the buddy system without telling us?”

“You’re right. We can discuss that later,” Ruth said. “I’m going to find John. Kay, Jorge, why don’t you return to the rec room? Curtis is taking care of getting the ham radio up and running.” She flapped her hands at them. It was a rude gesture, and she knew it. A bit like shooing gnats, but she couldn’t help it. The worry was getting harder to contain. “Come on. Let’s go!”

Jorge sniffed loudly, then turned to leave. “Well, when you find John, send him my way.” And with that, he headed back to the building.

Kay hesitated a moment longer. It seemed like she was on the verge of saying something, but then she shook her head and went after Jorge. That left Ruth, Curtis, and Stella standing on the platform, and Ruth could tell they were as disturbed as she was. She turned to Curtis, and he looked distraught, one hand clamped to the side of his head.

“Why would he leave the control room?” he said. “You told Dad to stay right there, and he does what you say. He respects you too much to defy you. Why would he unlock and open the door? It doesn’t make any sense.”

She couldn’t answer his question. Ruth could scarcely bring herself to speak. The worry and dread were almost paralyzing. I left him alone for one hour, just one hour, in a locked room, for Pete’s sake!

“Come on,” she said. “We’ll find him.”

She turned and stomped toward the door with Stella and Curtis following. Beneath the angry, shocked voice was another voice, softer and sadder, that said, You created the buddy system for a reason, and then you violated it, and now look at what’s happened.

“He’s probably just fine,” she said, more to herself than anyone else. “Maybe working on something. Had an idea or…or…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence.

She flung open the exterior door so hard that it banged off the wall, swung back, and hit her in the side making her gasp. Shouldering it out of her way, she stepped into the dim entry hall, digging the flashlight out of her jacket pocket. She could hear an echo of voices from the rec room. It sounded like the workers were having fun.

“Dad wouldn’t go anywhere without telling you,” Curtis said. “And he wouldn’t let anyone drag him away without a fight.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ruth replied.

As she crossed the entry room and entered the hallway, she saw that the control room door was ajar.

“There goes our plan to catch the saboteur,” Stella said.

Ruth shushed her. Stella was right, of course. Kay’s sudden appearance on the platform was suspicious, but she hadn’t said or done anything to implicate herself directly. However, this was not the right time or place to discuss it.

They reached the control room, and Ruth angrily kicked the door all the way open with the toe of her boot. Then she shone the flashlight inside. At first glance, everything was as she’d left it. One half of the room was full from floor to ceiling with supplies, and they looked undisturbed. The other half of the room contained the new console, chairs, a table, scattered tools, and the generator. John was nowhere to be seen.

Ruth strode into the room, shining the light back and forth. “He was supposed to stay here and keep an eye on the generator and console. All he had to do was keep the door locked and sit here. Why in the world would he leave?”

Curtis and Stella came in beside her.

“I’m telling you, this isn’t like him,” Curtis said. He had his hat in his hands, and he was twisting it in agitation. “Dad had a huge amount of respect for your authority, and if you told him to sit tight, he would sit tight.”

The flashlight beam played over the generator, the nearby wires, the scattered tools. “But which of these workers could drag him away by force? John is a strong man, tougher than most of the people on this oil platform.”

“Definitely not Kay,” Curtis said. “He could pick that woman up and throw her and not bat an eye.”

At this point, Ruth was fighting panic. Come on, John. Where did you go? she thought. Tell me you just went to the restroom and got turned around trying to find your way back. Walk through that damned door already.

But then the flashlight glinted on something, and she froze. Fixing the beam on a spot just in front of generator, she strode forward. Motes of reflected light on a small puddle. Ruth knelt down close, her hand shaking, struggling to hold the flashlight still.

“Is that…?” Stella almost said it, but she stopped mid-sentence and seemed to choke on the word.

It was a small puddle, little more than a few large drops, which had flowed together, but it was clearly blood. Nevertheless, Ruth stooped down and ran her finger through it, holding her bloody finger up into the light. She turned to Curtis and Stella, saw the shock in their eyes.

“This is fresh,” she said. “It hasn’t even begun to dry. This just happened. Probably right before Jorge came outside.”

“So it probably wasn’t Kay,” Curtis said. He sounded breathless, clearly struggling to hold it together. “She was outside chatting with me for a while.”

“Kay’s not the saboteur, then,” Stella said, eyes wide. “We set a trap and the wrong person came out.”

“And John paid the price,” Ruth said, wiping her finger off on the edge of her boot heel. “By God, we’re going to turn this oil platform upside down to find him. Come on.”

She rose, grabbed a large crowbar in passing, and headed out into the hall. She strode in the direction of the happy voices in the rec room, so furious that she felt her heartbeat in her temples and throat, felt a flush in her cheeks and forehead. When she neared the cafeteria, she saw Kay sitting at a table by herself, a bottle of water in her hands. Ruth stepped through the door, motioned for Stella and Curtis to stay back, then sat down across from the woman.

Kay took a long drink of water, screwed the cap on, and only then did she look at Ruth.

“Yeah, I know, I know,” she said. “I’m not with my buddy. You’ll find Parker in the rec room. Can I have a minute alone before I chain myself to him again?”

But Ruth just stared hard at her, trying to read the woman’s expression, her tone of voice. Kay seemed annoyed, not guilty. What was going on? Was the suspect list all wrong?

Kay set the water bottle down and gave Ruth a confused look. “Are you going to say anything, or are you just going to glare at me? What is going on?”

And Ruth decided to just go for it. “What do you know about the ruined pallet of supplies from the helicopter? The one that was left in the outdoor storage shed with the door wide open? Did you have anything to do with that?”

Kay frowned. “Heck, no, I’m not that stupid or incompetent. Dennis was in charge of finding a place for the pallet, and he knew damn well that he needed to close and lock the door. Everyone knows that. Did someone tell you it was my fault?”

Ruth shook her head. “Dennis ruined an entire pallet of supplies, and then he turned up dead not long after. That doesn’t strike you as strange?”

Kay glanced left and right, but Ruth saw something changing in her expression. The hardness seemed to melt, and real fear entered her eyes. “Are you suggesting Dennis’s death wasn’t an accident? He wasn’t electrocuted touching the fuse box?”

“I am,” Ruth replied. “How did you find out about the ruined supplies?”

“From Parker. Someone always had to follow along behind him and fix what he did wrong, usually Parker or a shift manager. But if someone actually hurt Dennis because of job performance, that’s messed up.”

“Can you look me in the eye and tell me it wasn’t you?” Ruth asked. “It wasn’t you who killed Dennis? And you had nothing to do with Clark’s disappearance?”

“Or my dad’s disappearance,” Curtis shouted from the doorway. He was so loud, his words echoed down the hallway. “Did you do something to my dad? Are you the one who’s killing people and sabotaging equipment?”

Kay looked back at him, then turned to Ruth. She was grimacing, and Ruth couldn’t tell if it was mostly shock or fear. “Is that what you think?” she said. “Is that why you’ve been treating me this way?”

“Well, you have given us a few reasons to suspect you,” Ruth said. “Why were you in Dennis’s room by yourself?”

“How do you know about that?” Kay said sharply.

“Never mind about that. Why did you go in there?”

Kay bowed her head. “I took his employee ID tag and keys. Even under these circumstances, I have to write an incident report and put it in an envelope to deliver to the company. The ID and keys go with it. I told you, there are SOPs we’re supposed to follow. Just because the power went out for a couple of days doesn’t mean we’re living in anarchy.”

“I see. And did you happen to notice anything about him?”

“You mean, besides him being dead? I didn’t look. I knew he kept his ID and keys on his belt, so I grabbed them and got out of there as fast as possible.”

It was a reasonable enough explanation. The woman had expressed her fondness for standard operating procedures before.

Ruth heard movement in the hallway behind Curtis and Stella. Startled, she half-rose, raising the crowbar and shining the flashlight in that direction. Her flashlight beam met other lights from the rest of the crew approaching the cafeteria. They crowded into the doorway, pushing in around Stella and Curtis. Ruth saw shocked and angry faces.

“I told them,” Jorge said, stepping past Curtis. “I told them about John. They all know now. Someone is making people disappear. Someone on this oil platform is killing us, and we want to know who it is.”

26

At Jorge’s words, Curtis made a sound that might have been a sob and said, in an enraged voice, “I want to know who did it! I want to know! Right now!”

This caused the rest of the workers to begin talking over each other, all angry voices, some cursing and shouting. At first, Ruth wasn’t sure who they were shouting at, but then she realized they were approaching the table and most of them were glaring at her. Ruth raised her hands to try to quiet them down, but she no longer had John beside her to regain control of the crowd.

“Please, you can’t all talk over each other,” Ruth said.

“People are being murdered on the oil platform,” Jorge said, speaking more forcefully than she’d ever heard him speak. “There’s a killer among us, and you knew it! You’ve been conducting an investigation, and you never even told us. Now, we find you interrogating Kay, and meanwhile, we’re all sitting in the rec room playing cards with no idea that any of us might be next!”

“Okay, stop. Just stop.” When the crowd continued to talk over each other, Stella jumped on a chair and pulled a whistle out of her backpack. She blew it long and hard.

“Everyone needs to quiet down” Ruth yelled. “We’re not going to get anywhere if you keep talking over each other!”

The combination of the whistle and her shout did the trick. The crowd stopped talking all at once, and some of the angry faces turned to fear. Jorge pressed his lips tightly together and stepped back. Parker was farther back in the crowd, but he finally pushed his way forward. Ruth could see that he was going to try to help her, but she didn’t want help right now.

“Everyone sit down,” she said, stepping back from the table. “Everyone. Parker, even you. Nothing is going to be solved like this.”

She rose and went to her usual place at the front of the room. When she turned around, she was relieved to see that most people were sitting down at tables. Jorge had sat down across from Kay. Parker started to come toward Ruth, as if to join her, but she motioned him to one of the tables. He frowned, clearly troubled by this rejection, but sat down.

“Now, we can handle this in a civilized manner,” Ruth said. “Raise your hand and speak one at a time, and I will try to address your concerns.”

Immediately, half the people in the room raised their hands, including Parker, Jorge, Ricardo, and Ignacio. Ruth nodded at Jorge. Better to let him finish venting.

“The deaths happening on the platform aren’t accidental,” he said. “Is that true?”

“That appears to be the case,” Ruth replied.

“And you’ve been keeping secrets from us,” he added.

“Correct, but only because we aren’t sure who is responsible. I didn’t want to reveal our suspicions until we identified the guilty party.”

“So you’ve been letting people die,” Jorge said, smacking an open palm against the tabletop. “If we don’t know about the danger, then we don’t know to protect ourselves.”

Ruth’s instinct was to vigorously defend herself, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The complaints were valid, and their frustration was reasonable. She was frustrated with herself as well and terrified about what might have happened to John.

John was so quick to help me when I needed it, she thought, as she stared across the sea of angry eyes caught in multiple flashlight beams. He never stepped on my toes, tried to wrest control from me, or talked down to me. And now he’s gone, and it’s my fault.

“Yes, I was attempting to handle this quietly until I figured out who was responsible,” Ruth said, “but I admit now it might have been a mistake. Believe it or not, I was trying to do what was in the best interests of all of you. I didn’t want an innocent person being accused and punished.”

“We just want to know what’s happening to us.” That was Ricardo, who was sweating profusely and constantly dabbing his forehead with a napkin. “Don’t leave us in the dark if people are dying.”

“Okay,” Ruth said. “I’m going to level with you. I’ll tell you what I know. There’s a saboteur on board this oil platform, someone who is also a killer. Probably someone in this room.”

The workers began looking at each other, some whispering, some clenching fists. Ruth studied their behavior carefully. Everyone was looking around suspiciously, even Kay. The only exception was Parker, who was watching Ruth with a slight frown on his face.

He didn’t tell me it was Dennis who was supposed to move the pallet, she thought. He said it was Kay. One of them is lying.

Not wanting him to read this on her face, she quickly looked away.

“Well, who is it?” Jorge asked.

“And how are we are supposed to keep from getting killed?” Ignacio asked.

“I think the buddy system is still the best way to keep everyone safe for now,” Ruth said.

“But that means someone has a killer for a buddy,” Jorge said, practically shouting. “How can we trust anyone?”

“Stay in communal areas for now,” Ruth said. “Keep an eye on each other. From here on out, I promise to be completely transparent with you. We’ll figure this out as a team, and we’ll deal with the saboteur together. That’s the best I can offer. Do you all agree to this?”

It seemed like Jorge wanted to argue again, but instead he sighed and nodded. Then others began to nod. Even Kay nodded.

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” Ricardo said. “Can’t we launch the other lifeboat and escape?”

It’s not Kay, Ruth told herself. She wasn’t in the control room when John was attacked. It was someone else. Someone else in this room. But she did come out to check on the antenna, and she was more gregarious than usual. Could there be more than one saboteur? Is she working with someone else? Are there a bunch of them?

She glanced at Jorge, then at Parker, then at the floor beneath her feet. Could she trust anyone? Stella and Curtis, perhaps. That was it. But from now on, everything would be out in the open.

“Ricardo, you and Ignacio check on the lifeboat,” Ruth said. “I don’t know if it can be launched. First, I’d like to look for John, just in case he’s in a room somewhere. There’s a chance he’s not dead, just hurt, so we can’t assume the worst just yet.” She shrugged. It felt like a hopeless gesture. They’d never found Clark, after all.

Oh, God, I’m so sorry, John, Ruth thought, and suddenly she was fighting tears. I should never have left you alone, not for a minute, not for a second.

27

It was a fruitless search, as Ruth had known it would be. John was nowhere to be found. And so, it was with a heavy heart, weighed down by the burden of her own failed leadership, that Ruth finally sent all of the workers to finally get some sleep.

In the morning, she found Curtis sitting in the corner of the rec room beneath the DVD player, his arms folded, the brim of his baseball cap pulled low to hide his eyes. She wondered how long he’d been there.

“Should I stay with him?” Stella asked softly. Ruth flinched. She hadn’t realized her granddaughter had woken up.

“No, you stay with me,” Ruth replied. “He’s safer here with everyone else. You and I are going to see about the lifeboat.”

She headed for the door when Parker hopped up and came toward her. A hint of his usual smile crossed over his face, but it didn’t last long. She waited for him, if only to prevent him from following her down the hall.

“Ruth, I’m so sorry about John,” he said. “What can I do? I don’t want to just sit here.”

“There’s not much you can do at this point,” Ruth said. “Things are more desperate now, but we need to keep everyone safe.”

“Have you changed the suspect list?” he said. “Have you figured anything out?”

“Only what I already told the rest of the group,” she said. “Stay here with the others, Parker. Keep an eye on things. Let me know if you see anyone acting suspiciously.”

He stared at her with narrowed eyes for a second, as if trying to read something on her expression. Then he shrugged one shoulder and said, “You got it, boss.” He turned and went back to his chair. More of the workers had woken up, now, and were getting breakfast.

She saw Ignacio and waved him over. “Can you help me with the lifeboat?”

He gave her a quick nod. “Just let me grab something to eat, first.”

Ruth turned to Stella. “I’m going to take Ignacio and see if we can try to get the other lifeboat working,” she explained. “It’s still jammed onto the lift arm, but I’ll see what we can do. Stay here for now, please. Don’t wander off, and never go anywhere without your buddy, not even for a second.”

Stella looked like she wanted to protest for a moment, but then she glanced over at Curtis and nodded.

Poor Curtis, she thought. He was rescued off that boat only for this to happen. He must be mad at me, and I don’t blame him. I was his father’s buddy, and I left him alone in the control room. It was such a flippant decision. Why did I do it? I knew better.

It was hard to breathe. The weight of everything was so heavy on her now. Stella stayed with her, quiet and sad.

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” Stella said after a moment. “I wish we were on that cruise ship headed somewhere else.”

“I know,” Ruth replied with a sigh that seemed to go from her head to the soles of her feet. “I really wish you’d stayed on that lifeboat. I know I’ve said that before, but it’s truer than ever. At least then I’d know you’re safe.”

“Yeah, I’ve thought that, too, but then again, the lifeboat went to the mainland,” Stella reminded her. “We have no idea what it’s like there now with the fires. We don’t even know if the lifeboat made it to safety. They might have sailed right into the flames.”

Ignacio was done eating and Ruth and he stepped outside and headed for the lifeboat lift arm. It had taken some work from Parker and Jorge to loosen the first lifeboat from the metal arm and get it attached to ropes so they could lower it. As Ruth peered down at the other lifeboat she realized it was going to take just as much work to get this one free.

I don’t want to work with any of these oil platform workers, she thought. Not Parker, not Jorge, not Kay. The only reason I asked Ignacio to help me here is because I worked with him before and everyone knows I’m with him. But I don’t really trust anyone but Curtis and Stella.

“It’s not going to be easy to get this disconnected and dropped into the water,” Ruth noted.

“We could use the fishing boat instead,” Ignacio said. “It’s in good condition, and we put some boat bumpers against the hull so it won’t take any more damage.”

“We can’t fit all of these workers on that small boat,” Ruth said. “We’d capsize the thing. No, we need the lifeboat to get everyone off the oil platform.”

They were both standing at the handrail, looking down at the lifeboat. Ruth was finding it very difficult to dredge up any energy or enthusiasm for doing anything. The anger had mostly passed, leaving exhaustion in its wake.

Ignacio made a noise and then pointed out at the water. “What is that?” It was some sort of debris, being carried out to sea on the waves. “Could it be from the helicopter?”

“That was so long ago…” Ruth trailed off. There was a piece of metal that was drifting by. It had words written on it. Words that looked awfully familiar.

She glanced over at the remaining lifeboat and saw the exact same words printed in the exact same font and pattern.

“Oh no…”

Beside her, Ignacio’s head whipped over to look at their lifeboat, then back at the debris. He crossed himself. “Madre de Dios…”

The lifeboat. The debris was the remains of the lifeboat that had evacuated the rest of the crew.

The two of them watched the debris for a while longer, until it was drifting out of sight. Then they walked back together into the rec room to tell the others what they’d found.

Ruth wasn’t sure what it meant. Maybe everyone had made it to the shore safe and sound and what had happened to the lifeboat had happened after it had been empty of its crew. Or maybe not. The truth was, they would never know. But it did mean that getting back to the mainland was probably not in the cards. At least not any time soon.

Stella walked over to her and grabbed her hand, squeezing it. It grounded Ruth and she was able to take a deep breath and refocus. “I need some fresh air,” she told her granddaughter.

“I’ll be your buddy.”

The two of them walked outside.

“You know, Gran,” Stella said after a moment, “with terrorists attacking, this oil platform might actually be safer than the mainland. If we have to leave, we should consider somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else,” Ruth echoed numbly. She gazed out across the expanse of late morning waves.

“Yeah, like an island,” Stella added.

Ruth knew she was thinking about that cruise ship. But who knew what had happened to them. And in that moment, there came a godawful clang from somewhere beneath her. It sounded like someone hammering on metal. Startled, she stumbled backward, grabbing Stella’s arm and pulling her away from the handrail.

“What is it?” Stella asked, startled.

“It came from the lower platform,” Ruth said. Someone was down there. Doing what? She had expressly told the workers to stay in the rec room, but of course, the terrorist wouldn’t necessarily obey orders.

Ruth had tucked the heavy crowbar through a loop on her jacket. She drew it out now, grasping it in both hands.

“We have to go down there,” Stella said. She hefted the weight of her Maglite she’d been keeping in her backpack.

“Yes,” Ruth replied. “Be on your guard.”

She headed across the platform, raising the wrench above her shoulder. Stella stayed beside her, but she was moving like a skittish rabbit, ready to flee.

“But what are they doing down there?” she asked. “What would make that sound?”

“Not sure,” Ruth replied. “Keep your voice down.”

They reached the ramp and headed down to the lower level. As they did, Ruth heard the clang again. It seemed to be coming from the direction of the makeshift boat lift. The lower platform was dim and full of long shadows. Ruth turned this way and that, seeking enemies in the dark, ready to swing her crude weapon.

But the sound had come from a specific direction. As she moved toward it, she saw the pulley system that she’d created with Parker’s help. A flat platform created of a metal handcart attached to ropes with a winch installed to raise and lower it. She half expected to find their saboteur crouched in front of the lift, smashing the winch or cutting the ropes, but there was no one there.

“We might need help,” Stella said. “They could be hiding anywhere down here.”

They heard the clang again, and this time, Ruth realized that it was coming from farther away. Not on the platform, not around the lift, but beyond. And possibly below.

“What on earth is going on?” she muttered.

Clutching the crowbar tightly, she ran toward the lift and the handrail. She saw only the rough water below, so she leaned over and looked down. From here, she could see the fishing boat. It was now chained to the support post. She saw the anchor chain holding it in place. But then her gaze was drawn to the moving shape on the rear deck.

Stella saw it at the same time and gasped loudly, “A dead body!”

It was John. Ruth recognized his blue shirt, his rolled sleeves, his black boots. He was sprawled on his back, arms and legs askew. She bit back a cry.

They threw him back onto his own boat after they killed him, she thought. Was it meant to look like he fell from the lift and died?

But then his right arm moved. He raised his hand, and some metal object glinted in his fist. Then he brought it down, slamming it against the deck. It made a loud metallic clang.

“Oh, my God,” Ruth said. “He’s alive. Somehow, he’s alive.”

She could see blood on the deck pooled around him. Heart racing, desperate, she shoved the crowbar back through the loop and pushed the lift over the handrail. Without even thinking about it, she stepped onto the lift, grabbed the rope with her left hand, and reached for the winch.

“Gran, be careful,” Stella said.

“We have to go down there and help him,” Ruth replied. “He’s hurt badly.”

Stella nodded, tightened the straps of her backpack, and stepped onto the lift with Ruth. She grabbed the ropes and narrowed her eyes, while Ruth began maneuvering the pulley ropes to lower them. She went as fast as she dared. It felt reckless, the lift shuddering as it dropped, but Stella didn’t complain. As soon as they reached the level of the deck, Ruth locked the winch and practically leaped onto the boat.

She landed on the wet deck, slipped, and fell against the cabin wall. Then Stella slipped and fell against her. Ruth reached back and grabbed her granddaughter by the arm, trying to steady her, even as the boat rocked.

“Careful,” Ruth said. “Don’t hurt yourself, dear. He needs our help, and it might take two of us to get him out of here.”

She pushed off the cabin wall and made her way to the back deck. When she got there, she was shocked at how much blood was on the deck. John’s eyes were closed, his teeth clenched.

“John,” she said, stumbling up beside him and dropping onto her knees. “John, I’m here. It’s Ruth.”

He opened one eye, looked around, and finally found her face. Then the other eye opened, and the grimace went away. He blinked, and the piece of metal slipped from his hand.

“You found me,” he said, out of breath. “I figured if I made enough noise, someone would come along eventually.”

“Can you sit up?” Ruth said. “Can you walk? We need to get you out of here.”

He groaned and struggled to rise. Ruth put an arm beneath him and helped him up. Stella came along on the other side and squatted down. She handed Ruth a towel that she’d pulled from her backpack.

“He’s bleeding,” she said, pointing at a spot on his back. “Gran, I think he’s been stabbed.”

Ruth looked at his back. His shirt was cut at his right shoulder blade, and blood had soaked through. Ruth dared to pull the edges of the cut cloth aside, revealing an obvious stab wound. It was about half an inch wide and oozing.

“John, what happened?” she asked. “Who did this to you?”

He took a deep, shuddering breath and groaned in pain. “I was just sitting there messing with the generator and someone came up behind me. I heard the door open, and I assumed it was you. Then there was a burst of pain. I fought back, but whoever it was kicked the flashlight, and it went out. I fought hard in the dark, and they fled.”

“You didn’t get a good look at them before the flashlight went out?” Ruth asked.

He shook his head. “No, and I was half-conscious from the pain, but I just started punching and kicking as best I could. Then I heard my attacker running away.”

“Can you stand?” Ruth said. “We need to get you back inside and check out your injuries. Curtis is going to be so happy to see you.”

John grunted from the pain. “I’ll try.”

He struggled for a moment and finally got his feet beneath him. Then, with both Ruth and Stella helping, he slowly stood up, groaning in pain all the way. Once he was on his feet, he leaned heavily against Ruth.

“I escaped into the hallway, but it was pitch black, and I was disoriented. Took me a while to figure out where I was going. I wound up in the back hall and made it outside,” he said. “And then my attacker returned. I felt hands against my back, and I didn’t have the strength to stop them. They pushed me over the handrail, and I went down into the water.”

“That’s such a long drop,” Stella said.

“Tell me about it,” he replied. “I hit the water feet first, or it might have been really bad. It still hurt. When I finally surfaced, I struggled to make my way to the fishing boat. Fortunately, the current seemed to be in my favor, but it took forever. Even when I pulled myself into the boat, I thought I was dying.”

They started helping him walk, one slow and careful step at a time, toward the front of the boat.

“And then I woke up and found myself lying there,” he said, “so I grabbed that piece of metal—an old steel gasket, I think—and I started hammering away, trying to draw somebody’s attention. Thank God it was you, Ruth. Thank God!”

“Can you ride the lift?” Ruth asked.

“I can do whatever I have to do to survive,” he said. “If the fall into the ocean didn’t kill me, I’m sure not going to let myself fall off that lift.”

When they reached the lift, it took a while to get him up onto it. Ruth finally decided to have him sit in the middle between them. It seemed safer that way. Then she stood beside the winch and used her legs to brace him. Stella stood on the other side, one hand against his shoulder.

“Just sit tight,” Ruth said.

She started to turn the winch, and the lift rose from the boat. As they ascended, she noted again the alarming amount of bloody water sloshing lazily on the aft deck of the fishing boat. John’s wound didn’t seem to be bleeding as badly now, but he was very lucky that he hadn’t bled out before they found him.

And now that he was alive, now that she’d found him, the despair was gone, and she felt the anger returning.

Whoever did this is going to pay, she thought. I don’t care what it takes, I’m going to make them pay for every drop of blood.

28

They finally got John over the handrail and onto the platform, but he was not doing well. Ruth had him sit down again so she could examine the wound. The hand towel Stella had given her was soaked through. As Stella helped him lean forward, Ruth opened the tear in the back of his shirt wider to fully expose the wound. Blood was still oozing out. She dug into the inner pocket of her jacket and felt for something suitable. Ruth didn’t usually carry a purse, but she was known to keep her jacket pockets quite full.

Finally, she felt a handkerchief and pulled it out. She folded it up and pressed it against the wound, holding it there firmly.

“This isn’t enough,” she said. “We have to get you to the control room so we can open a first aid kit. Come on.”

As they helped him to his feet again, he gasped suddenly. “Oh, wait, I forgot. I have something.” He fumbled into the pocket of his jeans, finally got a couple of fingers inside, and pulled out a long object. “My attacker left the knife sticking out of my back. I removed it myself on the boat. Can you believe that? They say it’s dangerous to pull out a knife like that. You bleed a lot. I can attest to that, but I couldn’t leave it in. I was afraid it would move around and make the cut worse.”

He opened his hand and held it up. It was a long folding knife with a black rubberized handle. Ruth took it from him and unfolded the blade. It was as black as the handle and very sharp. Her blood went cold.

“I know this knife,” she said. Seeing it here was so shocking that she almost let it slip from her grasp.

“You know it?” Stella asked, clearly confused.

“I’ve seen it before.” She hesitated to say it, knowing it would shock Stella. But there was no use keeping it from her. “Smith & Wesson. This knife belongs to Parker. I saw him use it to cut a rope when we were working on the handcart lift.”

“Are you sure?” Stella said. “It can’t have been Parker. He came here with us. He’s our friend.”

“I was right beside him when he used this knife,” Ruth said, and she felt a sinking feeling. Even saying it, she couldn’t fully believe it. “I know it belongs to him.”

“But you’ve known Parker for years,” Stella said. “He’s your friend. How can he be a murderer?”

It was a terrible realization. More than Ruth could fully contain, so she went back to work helping John to his feet. Once he was up, she guided him slowly toward the ramp. But with her free hand, she slipped the knife into a jacket pocket.

“Is it really Parker?” Stella said. Tears brimmed in her eyes and finally spilled over. She quickly wiped them away with her sleeve. “I just can’t believe that, Gran.”

“I wish it wasn’t true,” Ruth said sadly, “but I think so.”

“But he’s always been so nice,” Stella said. “He’s helped us.”

“He’s certainly friendly,” Ruth agreed. “But think about it objectively. Put your feelings aside and look at the evidence. Tell me what you see.”

As they moved up the ramp, Stella grew quiet. Finally, as they neared the top, she sighed and said, “Well, he had access to the control room. We know that. Heck, he’s one of the only people other than Clark who had a key to that place, so it would have been easy for him to sabotage the console. Even though he arrived when we did, he could have sabotaged it before we went into the control room. While we were getting a tour from Kay.”

“Exactly,” Ruth said.

“He was supposed to be Kay’s buddy,” Stella added. “But when she came outside to talk to Curtis, he wasn’t there. She said he was with the crew in the rec room, but he could easily have slipped away and gone to the control room to attack John.”

“Exactly,” Ruth said. But it hurt to realize it. It hurt badly. Parker. Couldn’t it have been anyone else? She felt utterly defeated, and only John’s need kept her moving. “I was wrong to place my trust in him, and if I was wrong about Parker, what else have I been wrong about?”

They reached the upper platform and guided John toward the door. Of course, if Parker was a villain, then they might be in real danger bringing John back inside the building. Ruth knew she had to confront him publicly and do it very soon, before Parker had an opportunity to silence anyone.

“Gran, you’re not to blame,” Stella said after a moment. “You’re one of the most respected scientists in the College of Geosciences—heck, in all of Texas A&M—and you’ve achieved more in your career than most people. Just because someone that you thought was a friend lied to you doesn’t mean you failed in some way. And it definitely doesn’t diminish your abilities or your accomplishments at all. None of this is your fault. Parker used his friendship with you as a cover to do bad things.”

“Heck, I never suspected him either,” John said in a pained voice, “and I barely know the guy. He just comes across as so friendly. He’s always smiling. When someone is a killer, you expect to see some kind of evil glint in their eyes, but Parker seemed genuine to me.”

“I guess he wore the mask well,” Ruth said. “He’s the saboteur. He’s a terrorist. A killer.” Speaking it made it feel more real, and all of it stung. Not Parker. Smiling Parker.

They were moving toward the door, but John was going very slowly now.

“I could really use a few ibuprofens or something,” he said.

“Don’t worry,” Ruth said. “We’re going to treat your wound first, get you some painkillers, and then we’re going to unmask your attacker.”

“You know, if Parker was the saboteur,” Stella said, “then the missing half of that console wire might be in his stuff somewhere.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Ruth said. “We’ll be going through all of Parker’s stuff. There’s no telling what we’ll find.”

“Just be careful,” John said. “There’s another side to this guy. He attacked me in a flash. I never saw it coming. It was pure dumb luck that I survived the attack. He never even said anything when he stabbed me. He was swift and quiet as a viper. He’s dangerous, Ruth.”

“I know that now,” Ruth said. “And we’re going to outsmart him. And then we’re going to get the control room up and running, and that’ll be the end of it.”

29

Just stepping through the door to the entry room felt threatening, and after pulling the door shut behind them, Ruth stood there for a moment, almost overwhelmed with the sense of impending danger. She drew the flashlight from her pocket, clicked it on, and shone it across the room and down the long hallway. She could hear the voices of the workers echoing faintly from the rec room, and even that sound seemed menacing now.

Can I do this? she wondered. Can I really confront Parker, my friend, and deal with him?

She took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. Then she let it out slowly. It calmed her, if only the tiniest bit. Then she guided John across the room toward the control room.

“Stella, I want you to run to the rec room and get Kay and Curtis,” Ruth said. “I’m going to take John into the control room.”

“Alone?” Stella asked. “Without a buddy?”

“It’s just past the cafeteria and around the corner,” Ruth said. “I want you to run there as fast as you can. Everyone is gathered there. I don’t think he’ll attack you when others can see, but we won’t give him a chance either way. Run fast. Like you used to do when you were in track in high school.”

“I was terrible in track,” Stella reminded her.

“Then run faster than that. Leave the backpack. It’ll weigh you down. Sprint. Get Kay and Curtis. Bring them to the control room.”

“Are you sure Kay is safe?” Stella asked.

Ruth nodded. “I think so. Go.”

They had reached the control room. The door was still ajar. Ruth kept the flashlight aimed down the hallway, lighting the way for Stella. Stella sniffed, nodded, and let the backpack fall from her shoulders.

“I’ll see you soon,” she said.

Then she took off running down the hallway, moving fast, her shadow stretching out before her. Just before she disappeared around the corner, Ruth felt a moment of regret, even though Stella would already be in sight of the people in the rec room.

She’s not going to get attacked in front of all of the other workers, she told herself.

With that, she grabbed Stella’s pack and then guided John into the control room and eased him down on one of the chairs.

“Screw this killer,” John said tightly. “Let’s get the control room up and running as fast as we can.”

“First, we’re going to treat your wound and check you for other injuries,” Ruth said. They’d stored first aid and medical supplies on top of a stack near the wall, and she went toward it. “Then we’re going to search Parker’s room for that missing bundle of wires. If he didn’t toss it into the ocean, it’ll be in there somewhere, I bet.”

She grabbed a plastic first aid kit off the stack and popped it open, setting it on the table in the corner. Upon opening it, she found an array of bandages, antiseptic, even curved needles and surgical thread for stitching wounds, something she had no experience with. She pulled John’s chair over to the table and positioned herself behind him.

“I’m going to clean out this wound and close it,” she said. “I do this with minimal experience, so I hope you’ll bear with me.”

“Do what you have to do,” he replied. “I can take it. It can’t be worse than being stabbed.”

She used an alcohol swab to clean the area, cleaned out the wound with antiseptic, then proceeded to stitch it up as best she could. John gasped and groaned a couple of times, but otherwise, he handled it well. Ruth was in the middle of pulling the thread through his skin when the door flew open, and Curtis strode into the room, his hat crushed in his hands.

He looked left and right, spotted his father in the chair, and went toward him. Breathless, eyes red in the backwash of the flashlight, he looked like he was going to try to throw his arms around his father. Ruth made a sharp little sound, and he realized what she was doing and came to a stop.

“I can’t believe it,” he said. The corner of the bandage on his head was coming loose, and he pressed it back into place. “Dad, you’re alive! They tried to kill you and failed.”

“Yeah, that’s about the size of it,” John replied, sucking in his breath as Ruth tied off the final stitch that now held his wound shut.

More people came into the room then. First, Stella rushed in, moving low and fast, as if she thought even now that she might get attacked. Then Kay stepped into the room, scowling darkly, and pushed the door shut behind her.

“What’s going on?” Kay said. When she saw John sitting in the chair, she gasped and backed away until she bumped into the stacks of supplies. “Son of a gun, you found him. He’s alive!”

Ruth pressed a bandage over the stitched wound, gave John’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, and turned to Kay. The small, stocky woman’s eyes flitted from John to Ruth and back to John. She seemed genuinely shocked.

“Please, someone tell me what’s going on,” she said. “Where did you find this guy? What happened to him?”

Ruth sighed and went to lock the door. Then she set her back against it. “Well, the good news is, I’ve ruled you out as the prime suspect in our recent disturbances,” she said to Kay. “At worst, you may be working with our saboteur. At best, you’re a complete innocent. Either way, you didn’t attack John here because you were outside when it happened.”

Kay’s expression hardened. “Who was it?”

Ruth reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the folding knife. “This belongs to Parker. It’s the knife that stabbed John in the back, which he pulled out himself after surviving a fall into the ocean.”

“Parker.” Kay said the name softly, as if testing the sound of it. Ruth studied the woman’s face as she said it. If she was working with Parker, she’d expect to see some guilt there, some hesitation, some fear. Instead, her eyebrows lowered, her lips pressed tightly together, and her breathing become fast and loud. “Are you telling me Parker is the one who made Clark disappear? Parker is the one who killed Dennis?”

Ruth nodded. “He stabbed John in a surprise attack right here in this room, chased him outside, and threw him over the railing. Through sheer tenacity, John managed to swim to his fishing boat and climb on deck.”

Kay bared her teeth, her hands clenching into tight fists. “Parker told me to go out and check on the ham radio antenna,” she said. “It was his idea. He’s the reason why I went to talk to Curtis. I told him we were supposed to stick together because of the buddy system, and he told me, ‘Oh, I have to use the restroom. You said we weren’t going to follow each other into the restroom.’ He also said, ‘Be extra friendly for once. Don’t be your usual surly self. That kid’s working hard to help us.’ He just wanted me out of the way so he could attack this man.”

“That would seem to be the case,” Ruth said.

Curtis was kneeling beside his dad, Stella standing in the corner, but Ruth could feel the tension in the room. It mostly emanated off Kay. Her whole body was shaking now, not with fear, but with rage.

“He’s always smiling,” she said in a low and threatening voice. “Always everybody’s friend. I should have known it was all an act. Nobody is that happy-go-lucky during a terrorist attack, smiling while people are dying around us.” She swung a fist in the air, as if striking an invisible enemy. “We have the knife. Let’s expose him. This guy killed Dennis. He belongs at the bottom of the sea, and he can take all the damned smiles down with him.”

Ruth held up her hands. “No, wait, wait, we have to handle this wisely. He’s dangerous, that’s clear, but he’s also well-liked by the workers. I want more evidence before we confront him in front of everyone, because we were wrong before. I don’t want to keep accusing people until we know for sure.”

“Right,” Stella added. “We don’t want to be the boy who cried wolf.”

“We have to move against this guy soon, though,” Curtis said. “If he realizes he failed to kill Dad, he might try again.”

Ruth considered their options. She hadn’t made the best decisions thus far, but she really wanted to ensure their next steps were wise and careful. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” she said after a moment. Anxious, she couldn’t stand still, so she went to pack up the first aid supplies while she spoke. “Curtis, you’re going to take your father and find a good hiding spot for him. He needs to rest and recover, and we’re not going to let our killer make another attempt on his life.”

“You got it,” Curtis replied, jamming the baseball cap back onto his head. “If he tries again, we’ll be ready for him.”

“Remember, hiding is the key here,” she said, pointing at him. “The confrontation is going to happen, but not quite yet.” She turned to Kay.

The woman was still furiously scowling, her fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white. “Parker would have let me take the fall for what he did,” she said. “He knew suspicion was on me, didn’t he?”

“Yes, more than that, he agreed with putting you at the top of the suspect list,” Ruth replied, “but I need you to do something really difficult right now. I know you’re angry, but I need you to contain yourself, go to him, and distract him somehow. Tell him I gave you two an assignment and keep him busy for a while. Can you do that?”

Kay sniffed, smacked her own cheeks a couple of times, and blew her breath out. This strange ritual seemed to take some of the rage out of her. “Yeah, I can handle it. I’ll keep him busy as long as you want.”

“Can you suppress your anger when you’re that close to him?” Ruth asked.

“I was angry anyway,” she said with a wave of her hand. “He won’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Okay, good.” Finally, Ruth turned to Stella. Her granddaughter was standing near the console, hands clasped to her backpack straps. “Stella, you’re coming with me. While Kay keeps Parker busy, we’re going to search his room. We need to find something that clearly ties him to the sabotage or provides some evidence of his motivation.”

“The knife isn’t enough?” Stella replied.

“If we can’t find something else, it’ll have to do,” Ruth said, “but we’re going to look. Come on.” She clapped her hands. “Okay, everyone, you know what you have to do. We’ll meet back here in an hour.”

Kay headed out first, unlocking the control room door and flinging it out of her way. She strode down the hall, her footsteps particularly loud. Curtis helped his father stand up, and they went next. As they stepped into the hall, they turned left, heading away from the rec room.

“Parker’s been so nice to us,” Stella said in a sad voice. “I just can’t believe he’s a killer. I mean, I don’t doubt it, but I never saw the evil in his eyes, you know? Somehow, that makes it even worse.”

“Yes, I know, dear,” Ruth replied, and again, she felt a twinge of sadness. Why Parker? Why did it have to be him? “There’s nothing we can do about it now. We have to uncover the truth and confront him. Let’s get this done.”

Before heading out of the room, Ruth pulled the crowbar out of the loop on her jacket. Then she beckoned her granddaughter and headed out of the control room, locking and shutting the door behind her. She was exhausted after days of dealing with this ever-worsening situation, but she pushed through it. Moving fast, she headed to the entry hall, then turned a corner and went past Clark’s old office. Though the candles weren’t lit, a faint mixture of smells lingered around the door.

“So Clark went into the ocean like John,” Stella said. “Only he didn’t survive the fall.”

“That seems most likely,” Ruth replied.

“But why? Why would he kill Clark?”

“Clark must have seen something he wasn’t supposed to see,” Ruth said.

“Maybe the cutting of the wires in the console?” Stella suggested.

“Maybe.”

They headed down another hall and arrived at the living quarters. Two rows of doors stretched out into the gloom. Fortunately, she knew which one was Parker’s. About a quarter of the way down, close to the exterior door that led to the bridge. She’d seen him coming and going from it.

“What if he attacks us while we’re searching his room?” Stella asked.

“If he attacks, run as fast as you can and get help,” Ruth replied. “I’ll try to hold him off. Bring as many workers as you can. Shout his name. Let everyone know.”

She tested the door latch to Parker’s room and wasn’t surprised to find it locked, so she raised the crowbar and worked the tip between the door and frame. They were flimsy doors, made of thin, hollow metal, but Ruth wasn’t at full strength. Still, she gave the crowbar a pull and felt the door dent ever-so-slightly against the shaft of the crowbar.

“Let me help,” Stella said. She moved up beside Ruth and grabbed the crowbar. There was just barely enough room for both of them to hold it.

“On three,” Ruth said. “One. Two. Three.”

She pulled. Stella added her strength. And suddenly, the door popped open with a loud snap. It whooshed into the room. Because of the momentum, Ruth stumbled forward and dropped the crowbar, which thumped against the floor. She quickly stooped to retrieve it, then stepped fully into the room. Stella came behind her, swinging the door shut behind them.

“We did it,” Stella said.

“Let’s move quickly,” Ruth replied. She’d tucked the flashlight into her armpit, and she pulled it out now, shining it across the small room. “We don’t know how much time Kay will be able to buy us.”

Parker’s room was cluttered. His dresser was covered in a pile of clothes, his desk hidden beneath stacks of papers and books. His bed was unmade, and he had a stash of granola bars and candy bars on a shelf. A large metal footlocker sat on the floor at the end of the bed.

“That seems like a good place to start,” Ruth said, approaching the bed and easing herself down in front of the footlocker. She found it latched and locked. “Well, I guess we’re breaking it open. What else can we do?”

She jammed the end of the crowbar into a spot where the lid met the box, but the locker was sturdy and well-built. Additionally, Ruth was exhausted, and she just couldn’t put a lot of force behind it. She tried a few times, but all she managed to do was make a bunch of noise.

“Let me try, Gran,” Stella said, holding out her hand.

Ruth handed her the crowbar and eased back to give her room. Stella knelt in front of the footlocker, braced herself against the wall with one foot, then pressed the sharp end of the crowbar against a corner of the lid. She pushed, rocking it up and down slightly as she did so, and eventually the end of the crowbar worked its way between the box and the lid.

Gradually, she forced the lid up, and finally, the lock gave a loud crack. Stella set the crowbar down and lifted the lid of the footlocker, and Ruth shone the light inside. Unlike the rest of the room, the space inside the footlocker was half empty, but what was in there had been neatly arranged. First, she spotted some framed photographs stacked at one end. She looked through them. Most of them were of a young woman, probably college age, who bore a striking resemblance to Parker. Minus the beard, of course.

“I take it this is his daughter,” Ruth said.

“I didn’t know he was married or had any kids,” Stella replied.

“I think he may have mentioned her once or twice over the years, but he doesn’t talk about her. And I notice he doesn’t keep any of the pictures out in the open. I’m guessing their relationship isn’t the best.”

The last picture was of his daughter standing on a pier. She wore a shirt with an acronym on it. AILS. She showed it to Stella, who gasped loudly.

“So his daughter is a member of AILS?”

“That’s what this seems to suggest, anyway.”

She pulled out the papers and beneath it was a folder, which she began to go through. “Look at all of this.”

Diagrams of the Mako oil platform, email exchanges, detailed plans, financial information. It was all right there, spelled out as clear as day. Though Parker wasn’t mentioned by name, the plan was clear.

“AILS wants to use the Mako platform as a base of operations,” Ruth said. “They’re relying on Parker to take control, prevent outside intervention, then get it up and running before they arrive.” She showed a few of the pages to Stella: printouts of emails, text conversations, diagrams of various parts of the oil platform, the new console, a map that showed the location of the oil platform off the Atlantic coast. “Some of it is coded language, but not enough to hide their intent.”

“So he’s trying to kill everyone who seems like a threat,” Stella said. “When his terrorist group shows up, they’ll capture or kill the rest and take the platform.”

“That seems to be the plan,” Ruth said. She put the papers back into the folder. “We can’t let him do it.”

She shut the folder and was about to reach back into the footlocker when she heard a soft creak from across the room. Rising, she turned the flashlight beam toward the door, her heart racing. A figure was standing in the open door. He was well-muscled, with a broad, angular jawline and a neatly trimmed black beard. His hair and jacket were disheveled, and his face was twisted in either pain or horror.

“Parker,” she said, breathing his name.

He had a small black object in his right hand, but it was partially hidden behind the folds of his jacket. Stella whipped around to face him, then grabbed the crowbar off the floor and held it up.

“Did you…did you break into my room?” he said, out of breath. His right hand came out from his side, and the object revealed itself to be a small handgun. “What did you see? What are you holding?”

Ruth held up the folder. It was all the answer he needed.

“If you shoot that gun, everyone on board will hear it,” she said. He hadn’t raised the pistol yet, but he’d made sure they’d seen it. “Every worker will come running. And you know that. Otherwise, you would have used it before when you tried to kill John.”

“Will they come running?” he replied. “Will they?” His eyes went from Ruth to Stella, and for some reason, they locked there. Ruth saw a panicky light in his eyes. Despite the gun in his hand, he looked like a cornered animal.

Suddenly, he pushed off the doorframe with his free hand and took off running.

“No, no, he can’t get away,” Ruth replied.

She rose to her feet. Flashlight in one hand, folder in the other, she rushed to the door, but she could hear Parker’s footfalls moving swiftly down the hall. She made it through the door just in time to see him racing around the corner, heading in the direction of Clark’s office. She took off after him. Stella easily kept pace, still clutching the crowbar.

“He’s going outside,” Stella said. “He’s going to try to escape.”

“I don’t think so,” Ruth replied, running as fast as she dared. “If I had to guess, I’d say he’s headed for the control room.”

30

They caught sight of him again as they approached Clark’s office. He appeared to have fumbled for a few seconds trying to get the door open that led into the front hallway. As Ruth shone the flashlight at him, he looked at her, wild-eyed.

“I’ll shoot if you come any closer,” he shouted hoarsely. “I swear I will.”

Stella tried to push past Ruth at that point, but she thrust an arm out and held her granddaughter back. If someone was going to take a bullet, it was going to be Ruth.

“Stay behind me,” she barked at her granddaughter.

Stella allowed herself to be moved behind Ruth, but Parker never raised the gun at them. Instead, he used the few seconds of confusion to get the door open and lunge through it. He was moving fast. By the time Ruth got to the door and through to the front hall, he was already disappearing into the entry room.

He didn’t shoot us, she thought. He had the gun in his hand, and we had no way to defend ourselves, but he didn’t shoot. He knows it’ll draw everyone else. Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt anyone else.

She hoped that would make chasing him just a little safer. As she stepped into the entry room, she spotted Kay, who was standing there, her mouth hanging open in shock. Parker was already headed down the hall toward the control room.

“That was him,” she said as Ruth passed by. “He ditched me!”

“Come on,” Ruth replied.

Kay fell in beside them as they ran down the hall, but Parker was already inside the control room. Just before they got there, he kicked the door shut. As Ruth reached for the handle, she heard the lock click on the other side. She tried anyway, turning it in vain, as Kay and Stella came up on either side of her.

“Where did he go?” Kay said. “I turned my back for two seconds, and he was gone. What’s happening?”

Stella raised the crowbar and moved toward the door, but Ruth held up a hand and shook her head.

“No, I don’t think you’ll get it open with that,” Ruth said. “And we don’t want to risk damaging this door beyond repair.”

Stella lowered the crowbar, but then with her free hand, she began pounding on the door. The room beyond served as a kind of resonance chamber, making an incredibly loud sound. She kept this up for a few long seconds until Ruth signaled for her to stop.

“We have to get him out of there,” Stella said. “He’ll trash the whole system

“He’s not going anywhere,” Ruth replied. “There’s no other exit.”

“He has most of the supplies in there with him,” Kay noted. “He could last a long time. I think breaking down the door is your only option.”

“Most of the food and water is in the kitchen,” Ruth reminded her. Stella raised her hand, as if to knock again, but Ruth shook her head. “Let me try talking to him. Despite this madness, we do have a professional relationship that goes back a few years. I might be able to reason with him.”

“He’s not who you thought he was,” Kay reminded her.

Ruth leaned in close to the door, cupped a hand beside her mouth, and spoke in a sharp voice, hoping it would carry through the heavy door.

“Parker, we know everything,” she said. “There’s no sense in hiding now. It’s all out in the open.”

To her surprise, he shouted back at her, his voice deep and bellowing, clearly angry. “Oh, you know everything, do you? You looked at a few papers, and now you know everything, Ruth? Let’s hear it, then! Tell me what you know.”

“We know you sabotaged the console by removing a converter wire that connects it to the old system,” she said. “We know you’re responsible for what happened to Clark, Dennis, and John. And we know who you’re working for.”

At this, Kay gasped and glanced at her. “We do? Did you find evidence?”

Ruth had the folder tucked under her arm. She pulled it out now and held it up for Kay to see. “It’s all right here. He’s working for that terrorist group called AILS.”

Kay smacked a fist against her own open palm. “Are you kidding me?”

Ruth shouted into the door again. “Am I wrong, Parker? Did you sabotage the new console as soon as we arrived? Was it your very first task? It must have been.”

“I’ve got the other half of that damned wire with me right now,” he replied. “The part with the dongle that plugs into the motherboard on the old computer. I put it in the inner pocket of my coat, and it’s been there the whole time. So what?” Ruth could tell he was moving closer to the door.

She wanted to scream and curse at him, demanding to know how he could do something like this. Instead, she took a moment to settle herself, to rein in her anger, then she tried to speak to him in a less hateful voice.

“Parker,” she said, trying to sound like a friend. “Parker, I don’t know how you got involved with this extremist group, but we’ve been friends for a long time. Surely that friendship means something. I’m just trying to understand why you would do this to people who care about you.”

“Who cares what he has to say,” Kay hissed. “I’ve got keys. Let’s just get in there and take him out.”

“He has a gun…” Ruth reminded her. “Let’s give him a minute.”

Parker was quiet for a few seconds, then said, “Appealing to my friendship won’t work.” But she could hear something in his voice, some change. Whether he admitted it or not, there was a softening there. She’d gotten to him.

“Was it all a put-on?” she asked. “Your friendship all these years, was it faked, all of it? Is that even possible? I can’t bring myself to believe you’ve been pretending this whole time. I can’t believe all the laughs, the good times we had working on projects together meant nothing to you. How could you turn on me? How could you brandish a gun at me, as if I were a threat to you? On my granddaughter!”

Stella and Kay were both fidgeting. Kay was practically growling under her breath. Clearly, they didn’t care for her attempt to win Parker over by being nice. After a moment, Ruth heard Parker sigh.

“I value your friendship,” he said, and to her surprise, his voice broke. “I really do. No, it wasn’t all fake. Obviously, I’ve had to lie a lot since we got here, but I wasn’t faking my friendship with you.”

“Then why don’t you help me get the console up and running,” she said. “Whatever it is they’re making you do, you can choose to stop it and help us. I’m not even trying to fight AILS. I just want to get the power up so we can survive longer out here. We still don’t know what’s going on with the drill pressure. Parker?”

He was quiet again for a long time. Kay was making so many disgruntled noises that Ruth finally motioned for her to back up. Fortunately, she did so, stepping away from the door.

“I’m going to unlock the door,” Parker said finally, “but Ruth, I only want you to come through it. The others have to stay out there. I still have the gun. Once you’re inside and the door is locked again, I’ll put the gun down and we can talk like friends.”

Ruth glanced at Stella, but her granddaughter vigorously shook her head. “No, Gran, don’t do it. He’ll kill you as soon as you’re locked in there with him.”

“No, he won’t,” Ruth said. “He has nothing to gain by hurting me, not now, and I just don’t think he’ll do it. I’m going in there alone and don’t want either of you to follow me. Is that clear?”

“I don’t like this…” Stella grumbled.

Ruth looked at Kay, who shrugged. “I mean, it’s your funeral, but if that snake does try to hurt you, I’m coming in and will chop him to pieces. Count on it.”

“Fair enough,” Ruth replied. She knocked on the door again and called out to him. “Okay, Parker, I’ll come in there alone. Unlock the door. I just want to talk.”

He was silent again for a few seconds, and then Ruth heard the click of the lock being undone. She tested the handle and the door opened. As she shone the light across the room, she saw Parker standing partially behind the console, the gun held at an angle where it wasn’t quite pointed at the door. Ruth felt Stella’s hand on her arm, as if her granddaughter wanted to restrain her, but she shook it off. She handed the folder of incriminating paperwork to Kay, then stepped through the door.

As soon as she was in the room, she shut the door behind her.

“Lock it,” Parker said.

He was wild-eyed and jumpy, the gun rattling in his right hand. Ruth reached back and locked the door. When she turned to him again, she lowered the beam of the flashlight so it wasn’t shining directly in his face. For a while, they just stood there on opposite sides of the room, staring at each other. Ruth had no more sadness or sympathy for him, not after what she’d seen in the footlocker. It was too much. Still, she couldn’t let her contempt for him show, so she tried to hide how she really felt, to keep it from her face and out of her voice.

“I can’t believe you’re affiliated with this group,” she said. “I really thought I knew you. But I realize now I didn’t know you at all. You have a daughter that you never talk about. You’ve hidden so much for so long, but it doesn’t even matter. Why don’t you help me get the power back up so we can get the drill pressure under control and I can help the people on this oil platform?”

Parker smiled sadly and shrugged one shoulder. “Ruth, look…I value your friendship, I really do, but my hands are tied. I know you don’t understand my affiliation with AILS. You’ll probably never understand or accept it, so why bother trying to explain? I don’t want to hurt anyone else if I don’t have to, but I have certain obligations.”

“You say your hands are tied,” Ruth said, struggling to keep the contempt out of her voice. “So did you plan on killing everyone on board from the beginning? Was that the plan? To pick off every person on the oil platform one by one until you had the run of the place?”

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” he replied, and he sounded embarrassed as he said it. “They forced the issue and put me in a desperate situation. I made some regrettable decisions, it’s true, and I don’t feel good about it.”

“Who forced you?” Ruth said.

“The people I answer to,” he said. “People you can’t say no to. This is just what it’s come to, okay? And soon it won’t matter.” After this, he sort of trailed off, holding one hand out in a gesture of surrender.

Ruth didn’t know what to make of this. Was this another put-on meant to disarm her? Parker had hid his terrorist affiliation behind smiles and jokes and a helpful attitude. It was hard to take any expression of emotion at face value. Who was the real Parker Jamison?

To be safe, she decided to assume it was all fake. “I’m going to level with you, Parker,” she said. She dared to take a step toward him, wanting to see how he would react. Would he raise the gun? Back away? Threaten her? Instead, he held his ground and kept the pistol pointed off to one side. “You’re not getting out of this situation easily. Even if you kill me, your guilt is known, and the rest of the workers will respond in kind. You must realize this.”

“I have no intention of killing you,” Parker said. “I told you, our friendship does count for something, however it may seem to you. Just because I was hiding this one big part of my life doesn’t mean nothing about our relationship was real. Even if you were the only person standing in my way, even if I knew for sure I could get away with it, I wouldn’t kill you.”

Ruth dared another step toward him. He still didn’t raise the gun. “Then take this opportunity to surrender peacefully. I’ll see to it that you’re locked safely away in your old crew quarters until you can be turned over to the authorities.” Assuming any authorities still exist… “It may be your only opportunity to save yourself.”

But Parker shook his head. He seemed sad, but again, Ruth didn’t know whether to trust the display of emotion. Finally, he set the gun down on top of the console. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do for you,” he said. He reached into an inner pocket of his jacket and rooted around for a moment. Then he pulled out a small bundle of something and held it up. A flat cable comprised multiple-colored wires with a long plastic plug on one end.

“That’s the converter you cut?” Ruth asked.

“Even better, this is a replacement part,” he said. “Uncut. I was supposed to get the place up and running just before the team arrived.”

“AI-Led Society, that team?” Ruth said. She couldn’t help saying the name of the organization with some obvious disgust.

“Uh, yeah,” he replied. He tapped the top of the console near the gun. “I’m leaving this weapon here, but I’d recommend that you don’t shoot me quite yet. Let me finish this first, okay?”

And with that, he knelt down behind the console. Ruth lost sight of him, and for a moment, she had the irrational thought that he would somehow escape. She knew it was not logical.

“Would you mind giving me a little light?” he asked. “I can’t see what I’m doing in here.”

Ruth approached, shining the flashlight into the small space behind the console. She saw him reaching into the guts, digging through the wires. After a moment, there was a distinct click as he seated the plug into its connector on the motherboard.

“That’s one end,” he said.

“You’re fixing the new console?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Why don’t you get the generator up and running while I plug in the other end?”

Ruth approached, eyeing the gun. She was within reach of it, and she had much easier access at the moment than Parker. He was turned away from the console, plugging the other end of the converter wire into the old system. At the very least, she could grab the gun and keep him from getting it back. So why had he left it there? Did he want to be shot? Was it some strange way of taunting her?

Why would he fix the console and then shoot you? she told herself. Parker is testing you to see if you’ll grab the gun. He wants to know how hostile you are.

Ruth knelt in front of the generator and pressed the starter. It roared to life.

“Okay, you can plug it into the console now,” he said. “We’re all wired up.”

Ruth grabbed the plug that John had jury-rigged for the new console and plugged it into the generator. As soon as she did, the screen above the keyboard flashed, and a second later, a boot screen appeared. It was the first functioning electronic device she’d seen since the EMP, and it caused a sharp flutter of excitement. A lighted screen, the hum of an internal cooling fan, the soft sounds of a hard drive spinning.

Parker came out from behind the console and stood behind her, staring at the screen. He did not, she noted, pick up the pistol.

“Well, there you go,” he said. “It works. With this, you could probably access some of the oil platform’s systems, whatever survived the pulse, and see if you can get the problem with the drill pressure figured out. Contrary to popular belief, an EMP doesn’t fry everything. In fact, it can be sort of unpredictable.”

The program that controlled the new equipment had fully loaded—a Linux-based system that had been created by software developers at the university. Ruth stared at it a moment.

“Why did you help me get it up and running again?” she asked. “What do you have to gain from this?”

He sank his hands into his jacket pockets, staring at the screen beyond Ruth, with a listless expression on his face. “I told you, our friendship counts for something,” he said. “Whether you believe me or not. I wanted to give you a chance to see the new console up and running, boss. You’ve earned it.” And then he sighed and said, “Look, I’ll try to convince AILS leadership to go easy on you, but you really should’ve just left on the lifeboat when you had the chance.”

“You could have said something at the time,” Ruth said. “Something like, ‘Leave before my terrorist friends take over this facility.’”

“Why do you think I worked so hard to get the lifeboat lift working?” he said. “I was trying to do you a favor.”

“Oh? You weren’t just trying to get most of the workers off the oil platform and out of your way so your buddies would have less to worry about?” she said.

He shrugged. “Well, yes, that was the primary reason. I admit it. But you could’ve left, and since you didn’t, that means you’ll be here when they arrive. All I can do is plead for your life. Maybe they’ll listen. Beyond that, it’s out of my hands, Ruth.”

31

The generator was so noisy that Ruth didn’t realize the door had opened until another flashlight beam shone into the room, moving past the console to settle on Parker. She whipped around, expecting to see Stella or Kay charging into the room. Instead, she saw Curtis and John standing there, the father leaning on the son’s shoulder.

“How did you unlock that door?” she said sharply.

“Kay gave me her key,” Curtis said, holding it up. “I want to see him. Where is he?”

With her foot, Ruth reached down and kicked the power switch on the generator. It wound down, and the computer screen flashed and went dark again. As she did that, Parker stepped to one side, moving out of the flashlight beam. Ruth thought of the gun and reached for it, but her free hand simply brushed along the top of the console.

It was gone. When she searched for him again, she found Parker standing to one side, the gun in his hand. He’d grabbed it so fast that she hadn’t seen it happen. He didn’t yet have it pointed at anyone, but his eyes were flitting from Ruth to the men in the door and back.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “I’m leaving this room and heading outside. I’ve got a meeting to attend very soon, and I think it would be best if you didn’t block the door. Please don’t make the situation any worse than it has to be.”

“You tried to kill my dad,” Curtis snarled.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I didn’t try as hard as I did with Clark,” Parker said. “My heart wasn’t in it. And the good news is, nobody else has to get hurt by me, so please just move aside. Let me pass. I’m headed outside.”

“I’m not letting you go anywhere,” Curtis shouted. Ruth saw Stella and Kay in the hallway behind him. “Gun or no gun, I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

Parker glared at him. “I will shoot you.”

“But you won’t be able to shoot all of us before someone takes you down.”

“I don’t want to shoot any of you,” Parker said. “I’ll only do it as a last resort.” But as he spoke, he raised the gun, almost but not quite pointing it at Curtis. “If you step aside and let me leave this room, nobody else will get hurt. Not by me. And I’ll do my best to ensure that everyone else on this oil platform is safe.”

He moved toward Curtis and John, and now he did aim the gun directly at Curtis. The two fishermen stepped back but didn’t move out of his way.

“Just let him pass,” Ruth said. “Guys, let him pass. AILS is on their way to the Mako anyway. Maybe Parker can reason with them. Either way, it’s not worth anyone else getting killed.”

“There you go,” Parker said, his arm thrust out straight, the gun held steady. “Listen to my friend Ruth. I helped her get the power up and running again. But if I don’t get to my friends before they enter the building, they might overreact to the presence of hostile people on the oil platform. I really need to meet them on the outside, and to do that, I need to get out there and signal them.”

Curtis glanced at John, then grabbed his father’s arm and pulled him into the hallway. Stella and Kay backed up with them.

“Parker, you’re a real scumbag,” Kay said. “I want you to remember I said that, and I hope you’ll always think about it. You’re a mentally deficient little loser, and I never much liked you. The fact that you killed Dennis and Clark is unforgiveable.”

“All right, Kay, I’ll remember,” he replied. “I’m a loser and a scumbag. I’ll remember. I promise. Just stay out of my way, okay? Don’t make me hurt you.”

As he moved toward the door, Ruth followed at a safe distance. The others had moved down the hall out of his way, but he swung the gun toward them in passing. Ruth followed him into the hall and saw Curtis, John, Stella, and Kay clustered together. The young fisherman was seething, teeth bared, fists clenched.

Parker didn’t fix the console as a favor to me, Ruth realized, as she followed Parker toward the entry room. He did it for his AILS friends, but he wanted me to think it was for me in that moment. To put me at ease, disarm me.

Parker walked at an angle, side-stepping so he could keep the gun pointed back behind himself.

“We’re just going to let him leave, then?” Curtis said. “Just like that? He gets to walk out of here with no consequences?”

“Hey, I’m doing you guys a favor,” Parker said. “I’m going to advocate for you so you’ll get better treatment from the new owners of the Mako. I’m the best chance you’ve got for safe passage off this rig.”

“Gee, thanks for all your help, you turd,” Kay said bitterly. “You’re a real swell guy.”

“You’ll be glad you’ve got someone on your side when everything is said and done,” he said. “AILS isn’t playing around. They’ve got big plans, and they’re making real progress. When they were first talking about this years ago, nobody really believed it was possible. Now, the whole world may be within their grasp. I don’t want you guys to get steamrolled under the wheels of progress.”

“You sound like a maniac,” Kay said. “Or a brainwashed cult member.”

“I’m neither,” he said, “whether you believe it or not. I’m just a guy who sees the writing on the wall and doesn’t have any other choice.”

Parker was moving through the entry room now. Ruth was torn. Did they really want to let him make direct contact with his AILS buddies? Would it really be better to let the terrorist group on board? Ruth had a bad feeling, a twisting fear in the pit of her stomach. Welcoming terrorists on board the oil platform would be a disaster, no matter what Parker promised to do.

As they approached the exterior door, she glanced at the gun. It wasn’t pointed directly at her, and it wasn’t quite within reach. She thought she might be able to lunge forward and grab it. Even if she got shot, she could distract Parker long enough to allow the others to grab hold of him.

Well, if you’re going to do it, she told herself, do it. He’s almost at the door.

She waited until Parker was reaching for the door handle, his face turned away. As soon as his eyes were off her, she took one big stride forward, trying to close the gap while also moving behind him. She reached out, though the gun was still out of reach.

And then someone barreled into her from behind. She was shoved to one side, arms flailing, which made her drop the flashlight. As she went down, she saw Curtis rushing past her. Parker sensed him and turned to confront him. Ruth’s flashlight landed at her feet, the angle of the light creating strange disorienting shadows that climbed the wall and danced on the ceiling.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Curtis shouted. “You have to answer for what you did!”

They were two shapes locked together, spinning. Ruth picked herself up, grabbing the flashlight. As she did, there was a deafening gunshot and a flash of light. Stella screamed, Curtis cursed loudly, and suddenly everyone was moving about frantically.

Ruth aimed the flashlight at the two men and found them locked together like wrestlers, each pushing and pulling at the other. The gun was in Parker’s right hand, but Curtis had a firm grip on his forearm, and he’d thrust it upward. The smell of gunpowder filled the air, but Ruth couldn’t see where the bullet had gone.

“Don’t you understand?” Parker shouted. It looked like he was trying to get his left forearm against Curtis’s throat. “You’ll all be killed without my intervention. I’m your only hope. Your lives mean nothing to them.”

“We’ll take our chances,” Curtis replied. “I’m not letting a murderer escape.”

John came up then, grimacing from what must have been a tremendous effort. He tried to grab the gun from Parker’s hand, but Parker twisted to one side, dragging Curtis with him, to keep the gun out of his reach. In the process, they both went down, dropping to the ground in a tangled heap. Curtis inadvertently swept John’s legs out from under him as they fell, and John landed on top of them.

“Parker, stop fighting,” Ruth said. “You’re outnumbered.”

The three men were thrashing on the ground, fists flying. Ruth kept the flashlight on them. Suddenly, she heard a clatter of metal against metal, as the pistol flew from Parker’s hand and went tumbling across the room toward the far corner.

“I’m not outnumbered,” Parker said, taking a swing at Curtis. “You’re outnumbered! This place is going to be swarmed. Don’t you get it?”

His fist caught Curtis hard on the jaw, and Curtis fell to one side, rolling off Parker. John, despite his injury, quickly flung himself onto Parker, taking his son’s place. He grabbed Parker’s jacket with both hands and began slamming the man against the floor.

As the fight went on, Ruth turned to look for Stella. Both Stella and Kay were standing to one side, clearly looking for some approach to enter the fight. Ruth went to her granddaughter and grabbed the crowbar out of her hand.

“Without my help, they’ll kill everyone on board,” Parker snarled. “Don’t throw your lives away. You need me!”

John was bigger than him, and clearly quite a bit stronger, even with the injury. He was repeatedly slamming Parker against the metal floor, even as Parker tried to shove him away. But then Parker reached around his right shoulder and grabbed the bandaged wound. John shrieked in pain and pulled away. As he did, Parker got a boot against his stomach and kicked, shoving him backward. John hit the floor and slid toward Stella and Kay.

Ruth decided to make her move then. She rushed toward Parker as he rose, and she swung the crowbar at him. Unfortunately, she could tell there wasn’t much strength behind the swing. Parker saw it coming and caught the crowbar in his hand, stopping it cold. Then he twisted it to one side, forcing it out of Ruth’s hand.

“Let me through that door,” he shouted, “or everyone on this oil platform will die. Don’t you get it? Don’t you understand, Ruth? Stop fighting me.” As if to emphasize the point, he flung the crowbar to the ground. It made an enormous bang that echoed down the hallways.

If the other workers didn’t realize something big is happening in the entry room, they do now, Ruth thought.

Parker stood at the door, facing his attackers. He was out of breath and scowling. John was on the ground. Stella had stooped down to help him. Kay was glaring at Parker in a fighting stance.

“You killed Clark and Dennis,” she said. “Admit it. I want to hear it from your mouth. You killed them.”

“I did,” he replied. “I had to. Clark is at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico now. I led him out the back door and pushed him over the railing. He never saw it coming. So what? You never liked him anyway.”

“Dennis was a decent guy,” Kay said. “Incompetent, maybe, but just a nice, dumb kid. He didn’t deserve to die. And Clark was a bad boss, but you had no right to kill him. We were searching this damned oil platform room by room, and you knew all along that he was in the water.”

“Clark went into my room,” Parker said. “He saw something there. He said he wanted to talk about it later. And Dennis, he heard me talking on the radio. He was going to report me. I had no choice. Now, I’m walking through this door, and no one is going to try to stop me. Is that clear? Even though you already attacked me, I’m still going to try to convince AILS leadership to spare your lives. It’s the best I can do.”

Without turning away from them, he reached back and grabbed the door handle. He turned it and pulled the door open. As he did, outside light flooded the room, revealing the figure who had been crouched in the corner at the edge of the flashlight beam. While Parker talked, Curtis had made his way, unnoticed, to the far corner, and he rose up now. As he did, he raised his right hand, revealing the pistol clutched there.

“You tried to kill my father,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “The only reason he survived is because he’s tougher than you gave him credit for.”

Parker, seeing the gun, turned to one side and flung himself through the open door. But Curtis fired then. One shot, two, three. With each one, the ringing in Ruth’s ears grew until she could scarcely hear anything. Parker fell, landing on the threshold of the door, half in and half out of the building. He rolled onto his stomach as Curtis advanced toward him.

It looked like Parker wanted to say something, his mouth opening and closing. He pressed his hands to the slotted mesh floor outside and just managed to drag himself forward a few inches. As he did, Ruth saw blood running out from behind him, a lot of it. Then Parker slumped onto the floor, mouth open, and did not move again.

She waved Curtis back and went to Parker’s side, squatting down beside him. She tried to roll him onto his back but lacked the strength. Kat leaned down and helped her. It looked like he’d taken two bullets in the side of his chest, a third in the shoulder. The wounds themselves were bleeding badly, but foamy blood was also running out of his mouth and nostrils. He was fading fast.

And then she heard a faint squawk. Ruth had a terrible ringing in her ears after the gunshots, so the sound seemed to come from miles away. However, a faint red light flashed from inside the folds of Parker’s half-zipped jacket.

She pulled the jacket apart, trying not to get blood on her hands, and reached inside. She found a small plastic object in the inner pocket and pulled it out, revealing a small two-way radio. A red light was flashing on top. Someone trying to contact Parker, trying to get a response.

Ruth turned the radio off and stuck it in her own jacket pocket. Then she rose and stepped to one side. As she did, Curtis grabbed Parker’s feet and dragged him into the room.

“Are they on their way here?” Kay asked. “Did he already talk to them?”

“We don’t know what he told them,” Ruth said, shouldering the door shut. “We can only hope that they’ll take radio silence as a sign of the mission’s failure.” She gazed down sadly at the body on the floor at her feet. “Come on. Let’s deal with him.”

“Why?” Kay said. “Leave him outside for his friends to find.”

“He’s not quite dead,” Ruth said. “We might get more information out of him. Come on. Help me move him.”

32

By the time they got Parker into the cafeteria and laid him on one of the tables, word had spread and the workers had gathered. The general response seemed to be shock and amazement. Nobody had suspected Parker, it seemed. The guy was so friendly and easy to get along with that everyone had given him a pass.

Kay did a good job of keeping everyone away as Ruth, Curtis, and Stella carried Parker to a table and laid him down on his back. Ruth then sent Curtis and Stella to get first aid supplies from the control room. As they left, she pressed two fingers against Parker’s throat and felt a weak pulse. He wasn’t dead, not yet. She leaned in close to his face and heard him taking shallow, wet breaths. It sounded like he had a collapsed lung.

“Do we have anyone with medical expertise on board?” Ruth asked, looking in the direction of Kay and the other workers. They were all grouped together near the door.

“Beyond basic first aid skills?” Kay replied. “Not really. And anyway, nobody’s going to try to save that traitor’s life,” Kay said. The other workers nodded then. “I’ve told them everything. That snake would have killed all of us if he’d had the chance.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Ruth said with a sigh.

Still, she felt compelled to at least try. She couldn’t just watch Parker die on the table, not if there was even some slight chance that he might survive. Curtis and Stella soon returned bearing a first aid kit and some additional medical supplies. Curtis dumped what he had on the table, gave Parker a look of contempt, then went to sit with his father.

“What can we do for him?” Stella asked.

“I don’t know,” Ruth replied. “Not much.”

Even so, she opened the jacket fully. Then she retrieved a small pair of scissors from the supplies and proceeded to cut off Parker’s shirt.

“It would be better if he survived,” she said. “He has a lot of information we need, and we could use him to negotiate with AILS.”

“If you say so, Gran,” Stella replied, but she had tears welling in her eyes. “He brought this on himself. Curtis had no choice.”

“I get that. I didn’t say otherwise.”

But as Ruth peeled open the shirt, she saw that his entire torso was wet with blood.

Maybe if I plugged the hole in his lung, he’ll be able to breathe better, she thought.

As she considered how to do this, Parker’s eyes fluttered. She leaned in close, and he looked at her. She could see the light fading from his eyes, but he managed to lock onto her for a moment. His mouth worked up and down.

“I’m going to try to save your life,” she told them. “We’ll have to hold you prisoner, but at least you’ll be alive.”

“It…doesn’t matter,” he replied, each word coming thickly. “AILS is coming. They need the Mako platform.”

“Just lie still for now,” Ruth said. She could see blood on his tongue and teeth.

“They’ve been…planning this takeover for years,” he said, barely above a whisper. Ruth’s hearing was still returning to her, so she practically had to read his lips. He was struggling greatly to get the words out. Blood was coating his lips, now.

“Why do they want the Mako?” Ruth asked. “What do they plan to do with it?”

“Base of operations,” he said. “Offshore. Safer.”

“But why, Parker, why did you work for them? You’re a decent guy, a hardworking guy. I don’t understand how you fell in with an extremist group.”

“Someone on inside,” he said. “I…didn’t want to… they got my daughter. Against her will. Only way to keep her safe. Doing what they say. Promised to let her go.”

“We saw her pictures in your footlocker,” Ruth said. “That’s your daughter? AILS has her?”

His response was a wet gurgle, but then he managed to say, “Why I ran. For her. They’ll kill her. They’ll kill you.”

“We’ll deal with AILS if and when they arrive,” Ruth said. “In the meantime, we’ll work together to survive.”

Parker took a shaky breath, then exhaled and died.

Ruth pressed her fingers to his throat, but she could no longer feel a pulse. She rose from the table and looked at the gathered workers.

“He’s gone,” she said. “There’s nothing else I can do.”

Her hands were bloody, so she wiped them off on Parker’s jacket. Despite everything, there were no cheers when he died. The workers were looking on somberly, clearly disturbed by the death. Even Curtis looked troubled by what he’d done. Stella dabbed her eyes on her sleeve and sat down in the nearest seat.

“He killed Clark and Dennis,” Kay said, as if to remind herself. “He tried to kill John, and he was going to let a bunch of terrorists on board, who might have killed all of us. Why does everyone look like they just lost their favorite uncle?”

“He was your friend,” Ruth noted. “It’s hard to lose a friend in any situation.”

“The person that I thought was my friend turned out to be a character,” Kay said. “A character played by a terrorist named Parker Jamison.”

But Parker had always been so friendly and well-liked. It was hard to avoid the impact of his loss, even if his evil actions had been revealed. Ruth was especially troubled by the mention of his daughter. Was it true? Could she trust anything he’d said, even at the moment of death? If it was true, then Parker had been coerced into doing what he did. That didn’t remove his guilt for the murders, but it did change the situation somewhat.

“I suppose we should take the body somewhere,” Ruth said. “We can’t leave it here in the cafeteria. We’ve already made such a bloody mess.”

Jorge pushed his way out of the crowd then. “Might as well toss it into the sea,” he said. “It’s more than he deserves. Let him lie down there with Clark at the bottom of the ocean.”

“Maybe so, but for now, we’re storing the body somewhere,” Ruth said. “Come and help me carry him.”

Jorge, Kay, and a few other workers came toward the table. Parker’s body was such a bloody mess that they first found a plastic tablecloth in the kitchen and wrapped him up. Then they carried the body out of the kitchen and around to the bedrooms. They laid him on his own bed in his own room, fully covered. Then they stood around for a minute, staring at the body.

“I can’t believe our maintenance team leader was a terrorist,” Ricardo said, standing beside the footlocker at the end of the bed. “And I can’t believe he’s dead. Parker always seemed like such a good guy. He played Texas Hold’em with us all the time. Couldn’t bluff for nothing, but he never complained when he went broke.”

“I never liked him all that much,” Jorge replied. “Never trust a guy who smiles all the time. He usually has something to hide. A snake would smile all the time, too, if he could, and then he’d bite you. And that’s what Parker was. A snake.”

As a funeral eulogy, it would have to do. Ruth didn’t feel like saying anything. Parker had done terrible things. She’d been absolutely furious at him, and now she just felt a kind of sad regret that she’d lost a friendship, both the past and present. She directed the men to grab the footlocker and bring it with them as they left the room. She caught a last glimpse of the body on the bed, just a lump now covered in a plastic tablecloth.

What a sad and pitiful way to go, she thought, pulling the door shut. But she couldn’t shake the picture of Parker’s daughter from her mind. Would I have done the same as Parker if AILS held Stella captive?

33

Ruth stood in front of the console, staring at the drag marks in the dust on top. That’s where Parker had briefly set his gun. When she leaned forward, she saw the wires trailing from the back of the new console into an open panel on the back of the old console. Parker had killed and threatened, but he’d also gotten the new system up and running again, even if he’d done so for nefarious reasons.

Bestie was sitting in a corner of the room behind the table. The poor dog had finally made her quiet reappearance, padding out of some secret place as Ruth was walking back to the control room from Parker’s room. Ruth took that as a good sign. Maybe the worst was over. At the moment, Bestie was gnawing on a rawhide treat she’d retrieved from one of her hiding spots.

“I never expected to see Parker Jamison go out like that,” Kay said. She was standing behind Ruth. Once the adrenaline had passed, her anger had gone with it, and now Kay seemed deeply shaken. Ruth heard her teeth chattering. “And you say he fixed the console?”

“Yeah, but not for our sake,” Ruth said. “I guess AILS wants to use the Mako oil platform as a base of operations.”

“Base of operations for what?” John asked. He was sitting in a chair near the generator. Fortunately, Parker hadn’t ripped John’s stitches, but he was still in some pain.

Stella answered his question. She was sitting with Curtis near the supplies. “AILS, or AI-Led Society, wants to tear down our current society and rebuild a technocracy run by artificial intelligence. I guess being offshore seemed safer, especially if they’re trying to cause maximum chaos on the mainland.”

“How do people come up with these insane ideas?” Kay said. “And how could a smart guy like Parker fall for it? Can you imagine devoting your whole life to something like that? I just want to work a decent job with benefits, and we’ve got people killing and dying for some ridiculous pipe dream like this?”

“To be fair, Parker may have been coerced into participating. He told me that AILS has his daughter,” Ruth said.

Kay scoffed. “That could’ve been just another ruse to keep from getting crowbarred in the forehead. I don’t know if I can trust anything that guy ever told me. His whole life was a lie.”

“Maybe so,” Ruth said. She really didn’t want to talk about Parker anymore. It was all too distressing, and she had more pressing issues at hand. So she changed the subject. “John, the new console works. Do you think you’d be able to help me figure out a way to get the rest of the platform up and running?”

John groaned as he stood up. He stepped around the generator and came up beside Ruth, gazing down at the console. “Well, to be honest, I’ll probably need help. I can handle the electronics, but Curtis will have to help with mechanical problems.”

“I’m coming,” Curtis said from his place on the floor.

“Just give him a minute,” Stella said, coming to Curtis’s defense. “He shot a guy, you know.”

“Believe me, I know,” John replied, “and it was the right thing to do, even if it wasn’t easy.”

Curtis struggled to get to his feet. His legs wobbled and didn’t want to hold his weight. Stella put an arm around him and helped him, and he finally managed it.

“I’ll help too,” Kay said, “if there’s anything I can do.”

“Actually, you can be a huge help,” Ruth said to Kay. “Now that Parker’s gone, I’ll need you to manage the rest of the crew. They usually listened to him and seemed to like him. Now that he’s gone, and worse, now that he’s been exposed as a terrorist, I’m afraid the workers will be harder to deal with.”

“You want me to whip them into shape?” Kay asked.

“No, they don’t need to be whipped into shape,” Ruth replied. “They need confident leadership from someone they know and trust. And that’s you.”

Ruth looked at Kay. The woman gave her a smirk and said, “Well, I’m not the most sociable person on the crew, and they’ll never like me as much as they liked Parker, but I’ll do what I can.”

“Can you round them up now and maybe catch them up with our situation?” Ruth asked. “Don’t take them to the cafeteria. It still needs to be cleaned. Maybe the rec room.”

“Yeah, I’ll figure it out.” She sighed, shook her head, and headed for the door. Clearly, like the rest of them, Kay was still struggling to come to terms with what had happened.

“Stella, would you go with Kay and help her?” Ruth asked.

Stella frowned at this. She didn’t want to go. Ruth thought maybe she wanted to stick close to Curtis. They’d practically been attached at the hip since the fight. All the more reason to send her off, at least for now. Curtis needed to help get the power back on.

“It’s not the buddy system,” Ruth said. “I just want you to help Kay for now so she’s not doing this all by herself.”

“Well…okay,” Stella replied. She grabbed the straps of her backpack, clamped down tightly, and followed Kay to the door.

“It would also be helpful if you two could put together a list of the things we need to do for our immediate survival,” Ruth said. “It might include things like repairing the boat, finding more drinkable water, whatever you can think of. But I want you to make it for both staying on the rig and, well, if we get off it, too.”

“You want to leave the Mako?”

“I don’t want to be caught unaware anymore. I want to plan for everything that we can. Let’s also make a list of what we can do to stop AILS from getting on the platform.”

“Got it,” Kay said.

And with that, Kay and Stella left quietly, though Stella was still frowning as she moved into the hallway. Ruth couldn’t worry about that now.

Ruth stood with John and Curtis in front of the console. For a while, none of them spoke, though they knew what they had to do. The weight of their reality was heavy in the air, and Ruth was thinking about the fires on the mainland. The danger of AILS went well beyond the confines of the Mako oil platform.

“I guess we should get to work restoring power,” Ruth said.

“How long do you suppose we’ll have to stay on this platform?” Curtis asked. He had his hat in his hands again, and he was crushing it tightly. The poor hat was starting to look as battered as his father’s hat. Thankfully someone had changed the bandage on his head.

“We’ll stay here as long as we have to,” Ruth replied. “Survival is the key. That’s our objective.”

“And if AILS is really on their way?” Curtis said. “Can they get onto the oil platform without Parker’s help?”

“Not easily,” Ruth replied. “We’ll keep all the exterior doors locked when we’re inside, and we’ll keep an eye on our surroundings. It won’t be easy to climb up onto the platform from the water. If we’re lucky, they might not attempt it since I didn’t respond to their call, but if they show up, we’ll need to figure out how to deal with them.”

“Maybe we can call for help before that happens,” John said.

“That’s the plan,” Ruth replied. “Now, let’s get the lights on.”

34

The ship, which they’d unofficially dubbed the Mind Maiden 1, had formerly been some millionaire’s undersized yacht. The Captain always found a beautiful poetic justice in that fact. And it was all the more satisfying that they’d obtained the yacht for free. The previous owner had been more than happy to give it to them in exchange for the incriminating photos they had of him. Sometimes, she just strolled the decks, enjoying the work of her own hands, and her heart filled almost to bursting with pride in her own accomplishments.

They never thought we’d come this far, she thought, as she stood on the freeboard deck, watching the sun set in the distance. So many doubted us, but look at where we are now.

It was out there somewhere, just beyond the horizon, their soon-to-be base of operations. From the Mako platform, they would be able to launch the next stage of their plans. Already, the cities along the coast were panicking, and the news was filled with troubled and terrified reports, images of burned-out buildings. They had no idea what was next. No idea.

“We’re about to shake this world to its foundations,” she said, talking to herself as she often did. She ran her hands down the slick sides of her yellow raincoat. She could feel her own ribs.

I need to eat, she thought, but who can eat at a time like this?

“We’ll feast like kings and queens in the world to come,” she said. “When people are finally fully free.”

She heard someone awkwardly shuffling their feet behind her. The team members always hated to approach her when she was talking to herself. The Captain turned and regarded the young woman standing near the cabin door. Like her, she was draped in a yellow raincoat from her shoulders to the soles of her shoes. It was a good color. Her hair was cut very short, practically shaved, her cheeks and forehead lightly sunburned.

“There’s nothing strange about a woman having a conversation with herself,” she told the young woman as she strode across the deck. “You people have to get over this antiquated notion. Stop fidgeting like you caught me doing something shameful.”

“Yes, Captain,” the girl replied timidly. “Ma’am, they wanted me to bring you to the communication room.”

“Excellent,” she replied. “Did we get a call from our friend on the inside?”

“I’m not sure, Captain.” The girl turned and went into the cabin.

The Captain followed the girl through the door into the main cabin, walking past couches and a nice glass table, and ascending a set of carpeted stairs. The communication room was just behind the bridge, a dim little room full of consoles and computers. A small group of people were clustered in front of the radio. When the Captain stepped into the room, they all turned, practically in unison, to face her.

“Has our dear Mr. Jamison prepared the way?” she asked. “Is it time?”

The young man sitting at the radio held up the receiver. “Captain, we picked up a quick signal of some kind from the oil platform, but it was quickly cut off. We’re not sure what it means.”

“Did you respond?” she asked.

“I’ve tried,” the operator said. “There’s no one on the other end.”

The Captain considered this. Had Parker Jamison done his job? Had he prepared the Mako oil platform to receive them? Maybe the brief radio signal was the only one he’d been able to get out. Technical trouble, perhaps. Or maybe he hadn’t fully carried out his plans. Or maybe he’d gotten cold feet.

“Captain, what do we do next?” the radio operator asked. “Should I keep trying to call him? Should we go ahead and approach the oil platform?”

The Captain took a deep breath and held it for a while. Then she let it out slowly, softly.

Planting her hands on her hips, she said, “We’ll wait just a little longer. If he doesn’t check in, we’ll proceed with caution. While we currently have the upper hand, I don’t want to make any mistakes. We’ll make our move very soon, my friends.” She smiled slowly at them, like a pleased cat. “Very soon.”

END OF NO RESCUE

EMP SABOTAGE BOOK ONE

No Rescue, December 14, 2022

No Relief, January 11, 2023

No Escape, February 8, 2023

PS: Do you love EMP fiction? Then keep reading for exclusive extracts from No Relief, Endless Storm, and Erupting Trouble.

THANK YOU

Thank you for purchasing ‘No Rescue’

(EMP Sabotage Book One)

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ABOUT GRACE HAMILTON

Grace Hamilton is the prepper pen-name for a bad-ass, survivalist momma-bear of four kids, and wife to a wonderful husband. After being stuck in a mountain cabin for six days following a flash flood, she decided she never wanted to feel so powerless or have to send her kids to bed hungry again. Now she lives the prepper lifestyle and knows that if SHTF or TEOTWAWKI happens, she’ll be ready to help protect and provide for her family.

Combine this survivalist mentality with a vivid imagination (as well as a slightly unhealthy day dreaming habit) and you get a prepper fiction author. Grace spends her days thinking about the worst possible survival situations that a person could be thrown into, then throwing her characters into these nightmares while trying to figure out "What SHOULD you do in this situation?"

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BLURB

The world is ending. But for the survivors, their ordeal has just begun…

Ruth Garber survived the sabotage of the Mako oil platform as the first wave of EMP attacks crippled the southern United States. Now, she’s stranded on the platform with a handful of people. And violent terrorists are closing in…

A desperate mission.

The EMP strikes keep coming as Ruth and the others leave the platform, embarking on a dangerous voyage across the sea. Their mission: to reach safety on an island and find a way to survive. But when they land on what seems to be a tropical paradise, they soon learn they are not alone. And all is not what it seems.

A world gone dark.

Meanwhile, Ruth’s brother, Ronny, may have discovered the key to stopping AILS, the shadowy organization behind the EMP strikes. Ruth and fisherman John decide to seek him out on the mainland, leaving her granddaughter Stella and the rest of the crew to prepare for an impending attack.

But as civilization decays around them, they quickly learn they’re not the only ones who are fighting to survive…

Get your copy of No Relief

Available January 11, 2023

(Available for Pre-Order Now!)

www.GraceHamiltonBooks.com

* * *

EXCERPT

Chapter One

Ronny Garber didn’t mind being a tough old cuss. His reputation kept people from bothering him, and most of the time, that was exactly what he wanted. However, under the circumstances, it had become quite inconvenient that no one in town thought to visit his ranch to check on him during a time of widespread chaos.

If they thought of me as a sweet old man, townsfolk would be out here with baskets of bread and water, he thought. At least a preacher or two would come to pray with me, and I could put them to work for a little while.

As it was, a few days had passed, and he’d heard not a peep. He stepped outside onto his porch and gazed in the direction of town. From here, he could only see his broad, rutted driveway winding through about two acres of grass and dirt, and then the single-lane road that marked the boundary of his property. Five miles west on that road, over the low hills on the horizon, would take him to the small Texas town of Monroe City. Before the EMP, he’d driven into town at least a few times a week, and there were a few people that he had almost friendly interactions with. None of those people had thought to check on him, though.

“Well, and why would they?” he muttered. “They lost power, too. Every man for himself. That’s the way I’ve lived.”

Ronny wasn’t afraid to admit he was cleverer than the average Texas redneck, and his gaze shifted from the road and the unseeable town to the big red barn that sat near the barbed wire fence on the east side of his property. It was so full of junk that he couldn’t close the door all the way. But this was no hoarder’s nest. Far from it. In Ronny’s estimation, every single item he’d stashed in the barn, the yard, and every room and corridor of his house was a fully useful object just waiting to discover its purpose.

He pulled his cowboy hat low—a faded black vintage Stetson—shading his eyes from the low-lying afternoon sun. No clouds today. Maybe the government’s cloud-producing machine had lost power in the EMP, too. Ronny chuckled at his own amusing thought as he made his way across the yard toward the barn. A length of nylon rope kept the barn door in place, connecting the hand to a U-bolt screwed into the exterior wall. Ronny undid one of the knots, and the door immediately swung outward, causing him to stumble backward.

I wonder how Ruth is handling all of this, he thought, as sunlight revealed a narrow path through the stacks of junk in the barn. She should be out there on the Mako right about now. That ought to be fun, especially if they lost power too. She probably hasn’t given me a second thought. Probably doesn’t think I’ve given her a second thought either.

He kept plenty of flashlights, matches, lighters, and candles on a metal shelf near the barn door. The shelf was actually the door from an old wood-burning stove that he’d attached to the wall. He had to reach through a gap in some large pieces of salvaged equipment to get to it, but he was so familiar with the nooks and crannies in the barn, he could have navigated it blindfolded. Grabbing the nearest flashlight—a heavy, black metal monstrosity—he clicked on the light and stepped into the labyrinth.

Picking his way past salvaged appliances, furniture that needed work, barrels full of scraps, and other assorted junk, he made his way to an open space near the back of the barn. Here, he had managed to keep the junk at bay just enough to create a five-foot-by-five-foot workspace with a table in the middle. A large upright toolbox sat at the end of the table.

At the moment, the project that dominated the table consisted of a motorcycle battery and the pieces of a few different shortwave radios that he’d Frankensteined together. He’d been working on the damn things for days, but the previous night he’d had a breakthrough when he’d found some line fuses in a box of junk parts that weren’t burnt out.

Well, I don’t need anyone from town checking on me, he thought. He connected clamps to the leads on the battery. A light turned on, indicating that the battery had power. I don’t need Ruth’s help either. I don’t need anyone, and I never did. I’ve got this.

The liquid crystal screen lit up, illuminating a piece of paper jammed under the edge of the radio. Ronny had scribbled a couple of frequencies, along with some names. He dialed in to the first frequency, listening to the crackle and hiss of the radio.

Come on, Bill. Tell me you’ve got your radio working, he thought. You’re an engineer, for Pete’s sake.

He leaned into the receiver. “Come in, Billy Bird. Billy Bird, this is Ronny the Wrangler. Come in.” He listened for a few minutes but got no response. Irritating. He tried the next frequency, dialing it in carefully. “Hey there, Mighty Mike. Come in, Doc. Are you there? Let me know you’ve got your radio up and running again. Hey, man, it’s that time of the day. Time to chat! Come in, Doc.” He waited again. No response.

He tried both frequencies for at least half an hour, switching back and forth, repeating their stupid nicknames and call signs, until the frustration finally reached a boiling point. He smacked the edge of the table with the palm of his hand and leaned back in his chair.

“Come on, you guys,” he shouted, his voice muffled by the walls of junk closing in around him. “We’ve talked about this. If something knocks out power across the region, the first thing you do is try to reestablish communication, and this is the way we do it.”

He dug his old silver pocket watch out of a coat pocket. No EMP could knock out a purely mechanical device. As he flipped open the watch to check the time, he felt a little thrill. Terrorism defeated by antique engineering.

“Three o’clock,” he muttered. Exactly when the guys were supposed to be parked at their radios. There was no way they wouldn’t be at their radios unless something was wrong. “Hey there, Billy. Billy Bird. Come on, man. Let me hear you.” He leaned in close to the receiver, just in case the mic wasn’t quite picking him up. “You know the plan, buddy. Talk to me. Where are you?”

Nothing. Radio silence from the whole group. Ronny’s little gang of ornery engineers. What was he supposed to do without his regular chats with the guys? They were his only real social outlet these days. Ronny switched off the shortwave and disconnected the battery. With a huff, he pushed back his chair and stood up.

Ronny looked around the dusty stacks around him. Plenty of salvaged electronics, mechanical parts, and appliances, but nothing that could help him in this situation. Billy and Michael were both unreachable at the appointed time. Unlike most people, Ronny and his friends had perceived the real danger of the AI-Led Society group in advance. They’d spent long hours discussing it. AILS had deep pockets and plenty of funding from people with a vested interest in their ultimate aim: to overthrow society and rebuild it to their own liking.

They want a civilization run by artificial intelligence, he thought. What diseased thinking!

“AILS got them,” he muttered. “They got Billy and Mike.”

It was a disturbing possibility. What if AILS had targeted them specifically? Ronny and his gang had been discussing AILS pretty openly over the open radio in the weeks leading up to the EMP. Was it possible that the extremist leaders had become aware of these conversations and decided to track the engineers down?

Oh, no, what if they’ve taken Billy and Mike out?

Ronny felt a little shiver run down his spine. His hand dropped to his hip, feeling for the holster clipped to his belt. He kept a small .22 pistol there most of the time. When his fingers brushed cold gun metal, he felt reassured. He grabbed the piece of paper on the table and flipped it over.

“Okay, you AI obsessives,” he muttered, “Ronny Garber’s got a few tricks up his sleeve. We know where you are, and we know what you’re saying.”

On the back side of the paper, he’d scribbled a few frequencies that he believed AILS operatives had used in the past. He switched on the radio again. Then he reached for the tuner knob and began running through the frequencies listed there. No speaking this time, just listening, waiting to hear their voices. It seemed like AILS would be even more active than usual. They’d taken the first big step in their insane plan. Surely, they would be chatting somewhere, and shortwave radio was about their only option for communication now that the internet, phone lines, and electricity were all down.

He heard nothing at the first frequency, so he kept going. On the second, he picked up some strange static. It seemed like something was trying to bubble up to the surface. Ronny leaned in close, tweaking the tuner. The antenna was good. He’d mounted it near the roof of the barn and run the wires through the ceiling and along the floor. If there was a signal out there, he should be catching it.

“Come on, whoever you are,” he said. “Let’s hear what you suckers have to say.”

The voices just wouldn’t come in clearly, so finally he switched to the next frequency on the list. And here, at last, he hit the jackpot. Two voices going back and forth, still weak but clear enough to make out most of what was being said.

“Captain says phase three,” said the first voice. A young woman, by the sound of it. “Phase three. That’s Captain’s orders, Lieutenant.”

“Roger,” said the second. An older man. “Phase three.”

If phase one had been the EMP, what was phase two? Probably some moves they’d made in the immediate aftermath of the EMP, while the country was still at maximum chaos. But what was phase three? His heart was pounding hard. Part of him wanted to grab the receiver and snarl angrily, “Bring it on, you lunatics,” but another part was terrified.

Get your copy of No Relief

Available January 11, 2023

(Available for Pre-Order Now!)

www.GraceHamiltonBooks.com

Endless Storm

BLURB

A storm like no other plunges the world into chaos…

When an egotistical billionaire’s plan to solve climate change goes horribly wrong, it unleashes a catastrophe with devastating consequences. Waters are rising. People are dying. Widowed librarian, Kelly Walker, is determined to escape from Florida with her family before the flood waters rise and life as she knows it disappears.

But when disaster strikes, Kelly’s son, Jackson, is missing. She’ll do anything to find him. But as brutal winds and power failures accompany the floodwaters, she fears she may already be too late.

Her landscaper brother-in-law, Eddie, must also brave the maelstrom to find his daughter—promising to meet back up with Kelly at a bug-out location. But the rising water is not the only danger. Vicious gangs revel in the chaos, ready to take advantage of anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path.

Kelly’s dreams of a haven high up at her parents’ retired service dog sanctuary in the Smoky Mountains are dashed, as a deadly plague sweeps the world. And she quickly realizes that their ordeal is only just beginning. A new storm is coming.

Can the two of them reunite their family, as the world descends into madness?

Get your copy of Endless Storm

Available March 1, 2023

(Available for Pre-Order Now!)

www.GraceHamiltonBooks.com

BLURB

An ailing father and a son determined to get him home…

Matthew Riley wants to believe people come together in times of struggle, but as chaos sets in after a massive EMP event, he discovers the only people he can trust are family. His father, an Army vet, has skills to survive this dark new world, but with no medication for his heart, keeping him alive may prove an impossible task.

She’ll protect her daughter and reunite her family…

Kathleen doesn’t share her husband’s optimistic view of humanity. When the power goes out during a visit to her brother in prison, she and her teenage daughter must find their way out before starting the long trek back to their family.

They’ll defend their home…

With the rest of the Riley family gone, it’s up to Ruth and her grandson, Patton, to keep their hotel safe for the family they know is coming back. But food is running low and some see an elderly woman and a pre-teen boy as easy pickings.

In a broken civilization, there is strength in numbers. One family is determined to survive, but will they be able to defend themselves against desperate survivors?

Grab your copy of Erupting Trouble (EMP Catastrophe Book One) from
www.GraceHamiltonBooks.com

* * *

EXCERPT

Chapter One

From his spot in the cashier’s line of Wilson’s Antiques, Matthew Riley smiled at the gorgeous expanse of blue sky that he could see outside the shop’s windows. It was turning out to be a beautiful day, and not just because of the spring Wisconsin weather: he’d junk-hunted through rickety wooden chairs and strange metal plush seats from the ’60s, and had found the perfect set of green velvet chairs. They’d be perfect decor for the hotel's summertime grand opening. Even his daughter, Allison, would think them retro-cool instead of outdated-gross. The ticket to claim and purchase rested in his palm.

“If this line moves any slower, I might keel over,” David grumbled beside him. His father wasn’t wrong—it seemed a lot of people had the same idea of taking advantage of the weather to hunt for trash turned to treasure. They were near the back of the line, and up ahead, the cashier was doing her best to keep the line moving.

“We have nowhere else to be,” Matthew told his father. “You can consider this mission a success. We found everything we came for here.”

“And some things we didn’t expect to find. What is this thing, anyway?” David asked, gesturing to the items in the basket Matthew held.

“It’s an old-timey coffee grinder,” Matthew said.

“Could just buy a new one,” David responded, peering at the squat wooden box with a rotating handle. “Looks like a Jack in the Box. Remember those toys?”

“It’s about the aesthetic. The River Rock Hotel is a mountain resort, and that’s what our guests will expect. We won’t use it, but doesn’t it look cool? People will imagine what it was like, exploring the mountains and finding ways to get their morning joe while watching the sun come over the mountain.”

“Should’ve kept my coffee grinder from when I was a young man. It might not have had the same aesthetic, but at least it worked and looked old. You could’ve used that for free instead of paying twenty bucks for something that cost fifty cents back in the day.”

“Fifty cents might’ve been the same amount as twenty bucks,” Matthew said. The lights above flickered, almost as if someone was playing with the light switch. “It’s called inflation, Dad.”

David snorted a laugh. His blue eyes crinkled in amusement. The lights continued to stutter, casting a dim flickering glow over the customers. Then, with a sudden bright surge like the bulbs had been pushed to their max, the store fell into darkness. Around him, the customers in line groaned.

“Sorry, folks,” the cashier said in a loud voice. “Looks like we lost power, again.”

A collective groan rose louder than the first.

“We’ll just wait for it to kick back on, and then we’d be happy to give you all a 10% discount for your patience and understanding,” the cashier finished. She pushed straggling hair off her forehead and had the look of a rabbit caught in a trap.

“I can’t wait for you to get your store back in order," one woman near the front said. "You should be prepared for this. It’s Madison, for goodness sake. The electricity is always unreliable in the spring.”

“It figures,” a young man said to his friend just in front of Matthew. “These kinds of shops aren’t investing in tech or updating their contingency plans in case something happens. Something like this could send them under. You need to take steps to ensure you aren’t losing your customer base just because the electricity goes out. The winter ice must've done a number on their infrastructure.”

Some of the customers rolled their eyes and pulled out their phones as the grumbling continued, and Matthew sighed, wondering if he should speak up. He understood why everyone was frustrated—the world was a hustle-and-bustle kind of economy, where listless time meant money lost or accomplishments not achieved. Still, the poor cashier looked flushed and stressed, and Matthew tended to have a strong, soothing personality. If everyone just understood that they were in the same boat, things would calm down. Matthew had found, over his years, that people had good hearts that got lost underneath the go-go-go life they all lived. Sometimes it just took a little nudge for everyone to remember that goodness. He opened his mouth.

“Don’t even think about it,” David said under his breath to him. Matthew gave his father an irritated, if fond, look. The two of them were so similar, yet their experiences had shaped them into two very different men.

“I wasn’t going to do anything,” Matthew said, but even he could hear the lie in his voice. “While we’re waiting, I’ll check in on Kathleen.” He pulled out his phone and dialed his wife, wanting to keep her abreast of the situation. She'd been on his mind all morning. He knew today would be hard on her.

“She’s inside a prison,” David said to him gently. “I bet neither she nor Allison can answer. Especially during visitation hours.”

Matthew kept the phone to his ear, but he couldn’t hear anything. The phone was eerily silent. He ended the call with a frown. His battery was fully charged. Why wouldn’t the call go through? “It’s not that. The call doesn’t even go anywhere.”

David shrugged, even as he pulled out his much older cell phone. “This old building probably has too much concrete blocking the signal, plus the electricity is out. Maybe a tower’s down. I don’t have signal either.”

“It’s all right. I just wanted to check in with her. It’s tough for her, seeing her brother locked up. I feel bad not being there with her.”

“You can’t be in two places at once. She’ll be all right,” David said. “Plus, the hotel is like having another child. You were needed here.”

Matthew swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, steering the conversation back into familiar territory with a joke. “At least it’s a child we’re raising together.”

“The most time-consuming money-sink of a child I've ever had."

Matthew smirked, knowing his father liked to pretend the hotel hadn't given him some purpose in his retirement years. "You fuss over the place more than I do."

"Never thought I’d be a retiree,” David mused and scratched at his temple. He had the same sandy-blonde hair as Matthew, only his was cut military style and had been for decades. “In all honesty, opening this hotel together will be as good for me as it is for you.”

“It’s been Kathleen’s and my dream for a while now. It’s about time we took the steps to make it happen. I'm glad you and Mom decided to be part of that dream too.” Matthew paused. “I know we told Mom we’d be back early this afternoon to help her and Patton clean up the rooms, but they’ll understand why we might be late.”

David grinned. “Patton’s probably driving Ruth up the wall.”

“Hey, he elected to stay behind and help clean.” Matthew held his hands up, palms out. “Sometimes I don’t understand that child of mine. I wouldn’t be caught dead having to clean, especially on a nice day like this.”

"Oh yeah, as opposed to shopping, which has always been something boys enjoy."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny."

Up ahead, the cashier held her hands around her mouth. “Hi there, valuable customers! Since the power doesn’t seem like it’s coming back on right away, we are going to ring out customers with cash purchases only. If you have a cash purchase, please form a new line to the right.”

“Are you serious?” the woman near the front yelled. She walked out of line and around the numerous displays, leaving her pile of things in the middle of the store. “You’ve just lost my business.”

“I’m with that lady,” another man seconded, and abandoned his items.

"I'd be more than happy to put your purchases on hold until tomorrow," the cashier said, her face crumbled with distress.

"You think I'd ever come back to a mismanaged establishment like this?" The bell above the door jingled as the woman stormed out.

“That’s uncalled for,” David said, his gruff voice low. “No need to be rude.”

“They’re just frustrated.” Matthew released a sigh and looked down to his basket. “I don’t have much cash on me. Not enough to get the chairs, that’s for sure.”

David bit his lip as most of the customers left their items strewn about the store or dumped on displays. “Maybe we should come back when things aren’t so hostile.”

“Yeah, this poor lady has enough to deal with. Let’s go put our things back. The furniture hasn’t been pulled yet.” Matthew ran a hand through his short, wavy hair, and placed the coffee grinder back on the shelf.

He turned a watchful eye on his father, who was placing a few art deco hinges and doorknobs back, and searched for any signs of distress. It had been a couple of hours, after all.

“This whole thing has been a bust,” he said to David. “Feel like heading home? We can try again another day.” He shouldn’t push his father to keep going and explore the other antique shops in Madison.

“You read my mind.” David rubbed his gnarled hands together as if to warm them. His eyes skittered around the shop, always taking in his surroundings. Old habits died hard. Matthew nodded, and together they walked out into the bright sunny day.

The warmth hit Matthew’s face, dispelling his worry over his wife and daughter. It was hard to be upset on a day like today. Together, David and Matthew headed to Matthew’s silver truck—a couple years old, but still up to date. They hopped in the truck’s cab, and Matthew clipped his seatbelt before reaching to start the car by hitting the button.

Usually, a green light flashed at him when the car started up and his phone connected to the Bluetooth. Now, the light flashed yellow. With a frown, he pulled out the key fob from his pocket and held the angular piece to the button. The button flashed green, indicating the key was near, but when Matthew tried to turn the car on, nothing happened. “C’mon,” Matthew said, pressing the button again. “You have to be kidding me.”

“I’ll go check it out.” David laughed, opening the truck door to get out.

“There’s no way,” Matthew said, holding the fob closer to the button, only now, no colored light flashed to even indicate the key was present. He didn’t hear any clicking or whirring indicating that the system knew he was in the car. He followed his father out of the cab and popped the hood.

David lifted the hood up and hooked it open. Matthew bit back the admonishment to be careful. Ever since his heart attack, his father had been sensitive to Matthew’s hovering. David poked at the looping wires bundled along the engine, checked a few things that Matthew had no idea what they did—a master’s in business did not a mechanic make.

“What’s it look like?” Matthew asked.

“I can’t see anything wrong,” David said slowly. “Probably left an interior light on that drained the battery. Happens to the best of us. You’re low on washer fluid.”

“What should we do?” Matthew looked around and saw that despite the exodus of people from the shop, a lot of cars still filled the parking lot. “Call a tow?”

“If you have signal. Honestly, we should go back inside and see if anyone can give us a jump.”

“Good idea.” Matthew smiled at his father. “I’m sure someone will help us out.”

David patted Matthew on the back, and together they turned to head back inside Wilson’s Antiques.

Grab your copy of Erupting Trouble (EMP Catastrophe Book One) from
www.GraceHamiltonBooks.com

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