At Sea (Harbingers Book 16) by Gansky Alton

Author:Gansky, Alton [Gansky, Alton]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Amaris Media International
Published: 2016-10-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

RED HAS IDEAS

RED IMPRESSED ME big time. She was smart and wasn’t afraid to show it. I was going to have to defer to her in the brains department. Still, I couldn’t figure out why she picked up the pencils and pens and carted them out of the corridor.

We went topside where the light was bright. Still gray, mind you, but brighter than what we had available in the corridors, even the ones with windows at their ends. I was glad for it. I needed a breath of fresh air, but the air never seemed fresh on this tub. For the first time I noticed that it smelled like day-old bread.

Red didn’t lead us far once we got on the main deck. “I’m going to run off at the mouth for a minute. Just let me do it without interruption. We can discuss later. Okay?”

I saw no reason to disagree. “I’m good with that.” Grumpy and Sketch just nodded.

“Good. That’s good.” Her eyes danced around as if reading something only she could see. “Here’s what we’ve got so far. The best we can tell, we may be the only ones on this ship.”

“We haven’t searched the whole ship yet—”

Her head snapped up and she shot me a harsh glance. “I thought we agreed I wouldn’t be interrupted.”

“Yes,” I said. “Right. Correct. Sorry. I didn’t mean— This is me shutting up right now.”

The corners of her mouth ticked up a notch. What a relief.

Again, she tilted her head down a few degrees and I could tell she was wandering the corridors of her mind.

“Big Guy is right, there might be more people to find. My gut tells me that at least one other person is onboard. The boy.”

Sketch started to say something, but reigned it in. I had already come to the conclusion that very few things frightened her, so I had to conclude she was being polite.

“I can’t be sure, but our response to the image makes me think we know the kid. I also think we know each other. Maybe we’re friends, coworkers. I don’t know, but we’re all connected by something.

“We saw some strange images down there,” Red continued, “but there’s something stranger still—the fact that we didn’t find the images strange. Okay, that’s a lousy sentence, but you get my point. We should have been repulsed or, at very least, questioned Sketch’s sanity, but we didn’t. We accepted it all as if it was nothing new. Why is that?”

Red began to move her head back and forth like a metronome. The movement was subtle, but noticeable. She was weighing heavy thoughts.

“We each have amnesia. A specific kind of amnesia. There are a dozen or more types of amnesia. Most are caused by physical trauma or a disease like Alzheimer’s. Our heads look to be in pretty good shape and it’s doubtful we would all manifest the same form of amnesia at the same time or the same place. So, what does that leave?”

Grumpy took the question to mean the silence law had been lifted.

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