“They’re going to take you off the ship otherwise,” she said. “No one wants that.”
“We want to get you out of here,” Philby said. “But we need your help. Are you hearing us?”
“I hear you.”
“The Return,” Philby said. “Use it.”
“Repeat it,” Willa said.
“Wake…up,” Maybeck said.
“Or get left behind.” Willa knew Maybeck well; he would not want to be miss anything.
“Got it.” Maybeck already sounded slightly less traumatized.
“It’s going to happen soon. Willa’s going to stay here with you as long as possible.”
“Don’t go back to sleep,” Willa said. “Fight to stay awake.”
“Easy for you to say.” That sounded more like the Maybeck she knew.
With the two waiters gone, Philby threw a tablecloth over the Aurora portrait on his way out. He texted the others that they’d found Maybeck and that the OTs may have been watching. That he, Philby, would return Maybeck within a matter of minutes.
The rest was up to Maybeck.
* * *
The I-95 corridor stood empty, the result of the Canal celebration up on deck. Finn held his head high and his shoulders square, attempting to express a confidence he didn’t feel. The ship’s hospital was up ahead on his left.
Not long ago, Finn had headed into the dark tunnels of Fort Langhorn to literally catch the Overtakers napping. It seemed only likely that they would attempt to repay the favor—to try to capture the comatose Maybeck when he was defenseless.
When will any of this end? Finn thought. How do we break their hold for good? Does Wayne know? Does anyone? How do you stop a fifty-year war?
Finn wondered if they were just pawns, foot soldiers in some tiny battle in a war now older than their parents. Had they escalated things by bringing in technology? Hadn’t everyone been better off when there was little more going on than after-hour pranks between the villains and heroes?
These seeds of doubt grew roots as Finn drew closer to the hospital. He questioned the point of it all, including his leading a bunch of friends into life-threatening situations time and time again. He knew what he’d face when he passed through the door ahead—no better time to try to capture Maybeck than now. Determined to reduce their numbers and spread the concern Finn was now experiencing, Maleficent would take advantage of the Canal celebration; she had proved herself an experienced tactician.
Normally, Finn would approach such confrontations as a DHI, able to use his transparency to his benefit. Perhaps this was part of her plan as well: force him into the open, exposed him as mortal flesh, a physically vulnerable young man, not a projection of light and mirrors.
Looking back at the still-empty corridor, Finn wished he hadn’t tricked Charlene; he could use the company and support. If you wanted anyone in a confrontation, it was Charlene: levelheaded, nimble, and fast. What kind of stupid jerk would stop such a teammate from joining a potential battle?
His Wave Phone vibrated in his pocket. Charlene, no doubt trying to talk him out of going this alone. And while he’d just been thinking the same thing, he had no desire to argue the matter. He left the phone in his pocket.
The iridescent glimmer of unnatural light beat down uniformly from the ceiling fixtures overhead, causing a dreamlike shimmer on the walls and floor. It looked strangely like a ship’s version of the gates of heaven, or wherever people went when they were no longer people. Was this to be the end of it all?
It was only a single vibration: a text message, not a call. That might be anyone. He slipped his hand into his pocket. Chicken! his conscience called loudly. He was stalling, using any excuse not to open the door and confront whatever evil lay on the other side. He released the phone and let it fall back to the bottom of his pocket.
He pushed down on the lever and leaned his shoulder into the metal door.
* * *
Mattie Weaver huddled on a toilet seat in Vibe’s restroom—the only place she could think of to be truly alone. Maybe he hadn’t recognized the Caller ID on his Wave Phone. Couldn’t he assume it was from a friend if the number came from stateroom 816? She typed the message a second time, struggling with the antiquated system for text entry the phones used.
Her thumb hovered above the SEND key below the phone’s tiny green screen. She was about to reveal herself in a way she had hoped to avoid. She was about to enter someone else’s fight. A favor for a friend was about to turn into volunteering for a team she knew little about.
Her thumb pressed the key.
one of you is going to die
* * *
“Oh, hello.” Finn was met by a ship’s crew member, Maybeck’s nurse. “I’m—”