Free Triton by Dan Rix Page B

thinking. Where do we find them?.”
    “Housekeeping.”
    “Alright,” said Jake. “Naomi, lead the way. Let’s get the master keys and start searching this ghost ship.”
    “Got them,” said Naomi, grinning and holding up a stack of white cards imprinted with magnetic strips. “Masters for every stateroom on the Cypress , courtesy of the Chief Bedroom Steward.”
    She shut the drawer and left the Steward’s office on deck two, high-fiving Jake on the way out.
    They were ready to begin their search of the rooms.
    On their way back up the I-95, though, the group passed a pair of double doors leading to a cavern of gleaming stainless steel—a kitchen.
    Next to her, Jake craned his neck to peer inside, and something caught his eye. He slowed. “At least now we know we’re not completely alone,” he said, pointing to a lone lobster resting at the bottom of a murky tank.
    Naomi laughed. “Yeah. Reassuring.” They continued a few more steps, but Jake’s words replayed in her mind. Completely alone  . . . No, it couldn’t be—
    She halted, and Cedar ran into her back. “Hang on,” she said. “I need to check something.” She rushed back into the kitchen and flung herself to the lobster tank. She stared at the solitary critter, the back of her neck bristling.
    The others appeared beside her.
    “He’s dead,” she announced.
    “Huh?” said Jake.
    “This lobster’s dead.”
    “Were you hoping for lobster tonight?”
    “No, the others were taken. Look,” she said. “You can see their imprints where they were pressed against the glass. I remember this tank, it was full before.”
    “They must have cleared them out for dinner last night,” said Jake.
    “They’re supposed to last the whole trip,” she said. “Guys, the lobsters are gone.”
    They all stared at her like she had lost it. Then, one by one, their eyes lit up with understanding.
    “They took the lobsters?” said Sky.
    “That’s just messed up,” said Cedar.
    “Why didn’t they take the dead one?” said Brynn.
    “So they took everyone on board . . . and the lobsters,” said Jake.
    “Except the dead one,” said Brynn. “They left the dead one behind.”
    “And us,” said Cedar. “They left the dead lobster behind and us .”
    “The Aquarium Bar on deck eleven,” said Naomi, leading the way across the lobby to the elevators. “That’s how we’ll know for sure.”
    The elevator accelerated upward, leaving her stomach behind on deck two. It couldn’t be. They had moved the lobsters to another tank. There was a logical explanation . . . one that didn’t include removing every single living thing from the cruise ship.
    The elevator ding gave her a nervous jolt, and the doors slid back, revealing the deserted lobby on deck eleven.
    Jake looked to her. “Lead the way,” he said.
    Naomi took a deep breath and headed aft, toward the ship’s stern. The others followed her past a library into a spacious lounge shimmering with sea green—the glow from a dozen floor to ceiling aquariums set inside the walls.
    The Aquarium Bar.
    Naomi stopped at the first aquarium and peered through the glass. Plastic kelp floated among particles of lifeless sediment and machine-generated bubbles.
    There were no fish.
    “Empty,” she said.
    The five of them spread out and checked the other tanks around the room, all of them empty.
    “Check the one at the bar,” she said.
    Sky stooped down at the bar and inspected the tank embedded in the counter. “Empty,” she reported
    “So . . . they took all the fish?” said Brynn.
    Naomi scanned the bottom of her tank, and let her forehead fall against the glass. “They took everything . . . even the snails.”

 
    Stateroom 1740: The Royal Loft Suite
    “Okay, what happened last night?” Jake said, once they had gathered on the open air Pool Deck. They had reached a consensus that discussing things up here would be less creepy than down in some deserted hallway deep within the