Chapter 33
Another night passes as we take turns rowing toward St. Louis. When the sun rises, Keisha wakes me up with a soft whisper and a hard shove to my ribs. I grumble, still exhausted and feeling like I was robbed of at least a couple of hours of rest.
“There’s no way it’s eight already,” I complain, still half-asleep and blurry-eyed.
“It’s not. Look,” she says, handing me the binoculars and pointing forward.
I lean up on my elbows and sigh, annoyed.
I blink several times, trying to bring the world into focus, then lift the binoculars to see what was so important to Keisha that she’d sacrifice my sleep.
Then I see it. Ahead of us, a boat sits idle in the middle of the river.
Calling it a boat is really an understatement.
This is a ship. And it’s huge. Every inch is painted with blocks of bright colors, and tall letters fan out from the top deck of the ship.
It looks like the letters are designed to light up, but the bulbs are dark.
“A casino? On a boat?” I ask, lowering the binoculars. “Weird, right? It’s just sitting in the middle of the river too. It must be anchored there. The current is strong enough to sweep it away, but it hasn’t moved.”
I lift the binoculars again and scan every inch of the ship looking for danger.
“I don’t see any carriers or people. Did you?” I ask.
“No, nothing. I think we should check it out. Casinos have food, right? This could be our lucky break. Maybe no one’s searched it yet.”
“Or maybe people are hiding on board, and we’re about to meet a bunch of casino pirates,” I say.
“Casino pirates? Really, Quinn?” She chuckles.
“The dead are walking the earth, Keisha. At this point, nothing would shock me.”
“Okay, point made. But I have a good feeling about this place. Let’s just take a quick look.”
“Fine,” I say with an exaggerated sigh, but I can’t help but smile. I’m excited too. If we’re right, this ship could be a gold mine.
“Yes! Okay, I’ll keep rowing. You watch through the binoculars for anything suspicious.
There’s got to be a ladder on the side of the ship somewhere, like with the barge.
We could use it to climb up and look around.
Let me know when you find it,” Keisha says with more energy than I’ve seen since the night we snuck out of the Pegasus Center.
It’s refreshing, and it makes my heart swell.
Keisha has always been one of the most joyful and adventurous people I’ve ever met, and seeing her like this again makes me feel…
There’s really only one word for it. I look up at Keisha.
Her brown eyes are lit from within. Her hair is wild from the river breeze, but it frames her soft face perfectly.
Her strong shoulders row us forward, and her smile makes the pit of my stomach feel like it’s bouncing.
I love her, and I hate her for it. I respect the game she’s played so well, and I also resent her for making me part of it.
I wish she could see it. She’s just like me.
We both manipulate; we both love the rush of power.
We both have to hide who we are. We’re the same.
Why does she keep trying to run from it when we’re so perfectly matched?
If she could just accept who we are, we could be untouchable out here.
“What’s with your face right now?” Keisha asks, giggling as she rows.
“My face?” I try to rearrange my expression to something neutral.
“I’ve never seen you look so…happy? Are you actually happy right now?”
I feel caught. The blood rushing to my cheeks is making things worse.
“I’m just excited to see what’s in there,” I say, pointing to the ship, trying to deflect her curiosity.
She looks into my eyes and smiles. With the Grady incident now several days behind us, for a second, I could swear she’s changed her mind about me. Maybe.
I awkwardly shift my attention back to the floating casino. Silence fills the space between us, and raw hope has me in a chokehold. Hope for our survival. Hope that this ship gives us what we need. Hope that she feels the same way I do.
We’re so close to the ship now that I don’t even need the binoculars to spot the ladder reaching up the side of the boat.
“There. On the right side, toward the end. We can tie the boat to that ladder and climb up,” I say, pointing at our target.
Keisha’s brow creases with determination, but the joy on her face still shines through. She rows with purpose and expertly steers us toward the ladder while I keep an eye on the boat’s deck above, watching for any movement.
When we reach the ladder, Keisha tosses me the rope, but I hesitate.
We need to be sure we’re not climbing into a pit of carriers.
I look around the boat and find a glass jar.
It used to be full of vegetables from the farmer’s garden, but now it’s just holding clean water.
I open the jar, chug what’s left, then aim toward the boat’s lower deck.
Keisha understands what I’m doing and gives me a nod, then crosses her fingers for good luck.
I hurl the empty jar upward, and it shatters on the deck with a loud clatter, breaking upon impact. We wait, frozen in silence, listening for the screech of a carrier or the footsteps of a protective inhabitant. After several tense seconds, we smile at each other. It sounds like we’re in the clear.
I tie up the rowboat and grip the ladder, keeping my machete in one hand.
“Cover me,” I say to Keisha waiting behind me. “Be ready to cut the rope and go if you need to. I’ll give you the signal when it’s clear.”
She nods, gripping her knife, scanning the length of the boat for trouble.
I climb up one step, then another. When I finally reach the top, I carefully peek over the ledge of the ship and into the lower deck.
The shattered glass from the jar lies undisturbed next to a row of lounge chairs and empty bar glasses.
A handful of coins and poker chips are scattered on the ground.
“Hello?” I say, hoping no one answers. “Hello?” A little louder this time. “Anyone here?” When no one responds, I give Keisha a nod, then climb over the ledge and onto the deck. I hold my machete tightly as she climbs up to join me, waiting for any threat to appear.
Once she’s over the edge and by my side, I feel better instantly. I’ve always worried about her getting hurt, but I remind myself that she’s shown over and over again that she can handle herself when things go sideways. She’s as lethal as I am when she has to be.
“Let’s take a lap around the deck. Once we clear the outside, we’ll go into the casino and see what we can find,” Keisha whispers.
I follow her lead. We step carefully, making our way around the perimeter of the boat, keeping our weapons ready.
We check every inch of the lower deck, but all we find are slimy floorboards and empty lounge chairs.
There’s nothing dead, alive, or useful down here.
On the far side of the boat, we reach a spiral staircase that leads to the upper deck. I point upward and Keisha nods.
I climb the spiral staircase, keeping my eyes focused upward, and it makes me dizzy.
By the time we reach the upper deck I have to steady myself against the railing and my machete clanks loudly against the metal bars.
I freeze, waiting for the screech of a carrier or the click of a gun.
Seconds and heavy heartbeats pass; then I hear Keisha exhale below me. I think we’re in the clear.
I step out onto the upper deck and my jaw drops.
The upper deck is much smaller than the lower one and has far fewer places for trouble to hide, but it’s clear immediately that we’re not in danger here.
Behind me, a bar is lined with empty stools and littered with half-empty bottles of liquor.
Video slot machines sit dark in every corner, some of them knocked on their sides.
Shattered glass covers the nearby dance floor and glitters in the sun.
Puddles of dried blood let me know this ship wasn’t immune to the chaos that unfolded in the rest of the world.
Near the edge of the deck, a circle of bodies completes the scene.
Six of them, each with one bullet to their forehead.
A seventh body lies nearby, shot through the temple.
It isn’t hard to imagine what happened here.
We’re looking at a group suicide. Some people weren’t meant for this world. At least these people knew it.
“Jesus. I guess we know who anchored the boat,” Keisha says solemnly. “Why do you think they gave up?”
“I don’t know, but I hope they did it before they finished off their food and supplies. We should check the bodies for weapons. That gun could come in handy, even if it’s empty. The more we have to trade in St. Louis, the better,” I say, walking toward the bodies.
I head toward the seventh body first. I check his pockets but find nothing. Then I pry the gun out of his dried-up hand. His joints crack with my effort.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Keisha cringe as she watches. She has that look I hate. The one that’s full of judgment, but too cautious to call me out. I ignore her. She’ll be glad we did this later.
I don’t know anything about guns. Only what I’ve seen in movies.
I fumble around with it and finally find the magazine release.
It’s empty. I replace the magazine, turn a tiny lever that I’m pretty sure is the safety, and tuck it into my backpack, then look back at Keisha.
All evidence of her earlier reaction is gone.
She’s smiling and warm again, just like before.