“This is 2.0. There is no almost pure.”
“But maybe you were thinking more like 1.6. Maybe it was something like that? Why does it matter, anyway? Especially right now? We’re in a bit of a situation here.”
“Are we?” Finn asked. “We’re crossed over. We’re 2.0 holograms. There’s nothing for them to bite.”
“And you’re going to test that, are you?”
“Maybe not,” he said.
“Yeah, I thought so.” Charlene shook her head. “So we go with my plan, right?”
“Right.”
They slipped along the wall toward a painted box that covered the lower section of a ladder. The purpose of the box was to discourage passengers from trying to climb the lifeboat access ladders, but the boxes couldn’t be locked for safety reasons—there had to be ladder access to the overhead lifeboats at all times.
The larger of the two hyenas headed for them.
“Ready?” Finn asked. “Nothing to fear, remember?”
“Yeah, right. Working on that.”
He broke off a piece of the Snickers bar.
The hyena charged.
Finn tossed the piece of candy bar. The hyena skidded to a stop, turned, and snapped it up. Finn could see the surprise cross its face—Snickers were just about the best thing on earth. Then it swung its ratty head back toward Finn, its eyes flashing yellow as they caught light from the windows.
More, the eyes said.
Finn broke off another chunk and threw it. As the hyena turned, Finn and Charlene inched closer to the ladder, now only a few feet away. The plan backfired: Finn had thrown the piece of candy bar well behind the hyena, trying to draw it away from them. For a fraction of a second, the hyena considered pursuing it. But, as the other hyena got into the act, scrambling for the snack, the bigger beast turned back toward the source: Finn.
“Uh-oh,” Charlene gasped, diving for the ladder. Finn was right on her heels.
He pulled the pin from the hasp and swung the box open. Charlene climbed it like a spider.
Finn fumbled with the Snickers bar, nearly dropping it. He tried to toe the wooden door as he pulled himself up a rung, but the hyena nosed the door open and snapped at Finn’s feet. The animal got a bite of a steel ladder bar and yipped. He knocked loose another piece of Snickers, distracting the lead hyena. A battle ensued between the two creatures, both wanting the treat. As they fought, Finn scrambled up the ladder to a small platform that provided access to the two closest lifeboats. An extremely narrow catwalk led between the suspended lifeboat and the ship’s wall in either direction. Charlene had already reached the forward lifeboat.
“Fifty-seven’s up there!” she said, pointing.
Finn arrived, out of breath. “How…you…possibly…so fast?”
“We can’t go down there,” she said in a perfectly normal voice.
Indeed, the hyenas were directly below them, tracking them like radar, wanting more Snickers.
“Not only is it not a good idea to go down there and beta test,” Finn said, “but unless we can get ourselves into the lifeboat, those two are going to end up giving us away.”
“OMG!” Charlene said. “I should have thought of that.”
They were at the end of the catwalk. There was still another lifeboat between them and boat fifty-seven.
“If we’re not going to use the next ladder—” he said.
“Follow me.” She pulled her hologram up and stood balanced on the rail. Then she leaned forward, clutching a safety rope that ran along the perimeter. The boat was divided into two pieces like a plastic Easter egg. Inside, the bottom half held all the passengers. But the top was a curving fiberglass shell as well, meaning that in a horrific storm the lifeboat could flip entirely upside down—and stay that way—and still protect its inhabitants. It also meant it was as slippery as a piece of Tupperware. There were several grips as well as the thick safety rope running fully around it. Charlene dangled from the rope, moving hand over hand, her legs bent at the knees to keep from hanging down, for just as she’d jumped, the sound of an automatic door opening rippled up the deck.
Finn climbed, fell forward, and clutched the rope. She’d made it look deceptively easy. It was like ropes course in gym—and he fell off the ropes course more often than he made it to the next level. Like her, he was driven by the thought of who or what had come through the automatic door. He’d heard no comments about seeing two wild hyenas drooling on the deck. It was as if whoever—or whatever—had come out, he, she, or it expected to see the creatures.
So it wasn’t a passenger, Cast Member, or crew.
That left only Overtakers.