Vessel, Book I: The Advent

by Tominda Adkins

  * * * * *

  I don't even know how we got aboard that ferry without any trouble. Jackson was the only person among us who could still form a complete sentence at that point. Corin could do little more than stare at his own hands, and Ghi―well, I’ll get to him.

  We watched the ramp for an agonizing five minutes but saw no signs of Stella or her apparent accomplice. When the ferry shoved off at last and the other passengers moved into the warmth of the cabin, the four of us slumped down against the railing of the deck, alone, finally able to freak out properly about ambushes and ice explosions.

  Taking our nervous eyes off the island behind us, we moved on to the first concern: Ghi, who was clutching his throat with both hands and staring ahead without blinking, genuinely shell-shocked. He sincerely believed, in the horror of the moment, that he was holding his neck together.

  "Alright, let's see it." Jackson pried Ghi's hands aside and moved in for a closer look at the wound―which didn't take long because there was no wound to be seen. He smirked and pushed Ghi's shoulder. "Quit your panicking, Sally. You're fine."

  Ghi raised his hands back to his throat in disbelief, finding it cold and clammy, but whole. He had been so sure that he was covered in blood. The collars of his sweaters and the hood of his sweatshirt, indeed, were soaked. Jackson pinched the material and then smelled his own fingers.

  "It's just ...."

  "Water." Corin sat against the railing, still examining his hands. "It's just water." He raked them through his hair, piecing together his thoughts. "Those were water cannons. Little ones, in her sleeves. She had to have a tank on her back or something, but ...." He trailed off and looked up at the rest of us with earnest fear. "Do you think I killed her?"

  "Hey man," Jackson said, planting a hand on Ghi's shoulder. "She was threatening our weird friend here. You probably saved his life. Who knows what she was getting ready to do."

  Corin frowned at him. "With a water gun?"

  "Yeah, let's revisit that," said Jackson. "I've heard New York is full of crazy people and all, but who goes around threatening people with concealed water canons?"

  "I have the feeling she wasn't just any crazy person," said Corin.

  "No," Ghi agreed softly. "It’s like she knew exactly who I was."

  Things got very quiet. We watched the island recede behind us.

  "You don’t suppose ...," Corin began.

  No one wanted to finish.

  I huddled against the railing, mentally racing through Jesse’s rambling story and wishing that I’d listened better. I spit out the word as soon as I remembered it:

  "Hollows."

  Three pairs of eyes looked at me like I’d just dropped the f-bomb at the Vatican.

  I frowned. "Well, that’s what she was, right?"

  "Wait just a minute." Jackson pointed at me before anyone could consider that thought. "Just who the hell are you, anyway?"

  Ghi and Corin seemed equally interested in my reply, and I practically bared my teeth at them.

  "I’m somebody who has nothing to do with this," I answered, ignoring their combined stare. I crossed my arms to the freezing wind and retreated into my hoodie. From there, I glared at Corin. He was going to ruin reality for me, depending on how he answered my question.

  "How did you do that?" I asked. "The ice?"

  He looked at the others as if for confirmation. In one sense, he didn’t know the answer himself. He certainly hadn’t expected that to happen, much less intended it. But in another sense, he knew exactly how it had happened. He’d panicked. He’d needed protection. And it―she, the water, whatever―had protected him.

  Corin looked at me. He had the kind of eyes that could harden from soft gray to iron in an instant, depending on what the situation required. At that moment, they were somewhere in between.

  "You already know, don’t you?" he asked.

  So this was real.

  I bit my tongue. I didn’t want to answer, to condemn my own half-sane little world to the impossible, and they couldn’t make me.

  "My boss was supposed to meet you here," I snapped. "But he couldn’t, so he sent me."

  They all spoke at the same time.

  "Who is he?" Ghi asked.

  "You work for Su Kim Khan?" Jackson’s square jaw dropped.

  "For Jesse Cannon?" Corin supplemented.

  "Nope!" I tossed my hands up and backed away a few steps. It was time to draw the line. "This is where I get off. When this boat lands, I’m gone. That letter should tell you all you need to know. Who he is, where to find him, everything. I am so done here."

  Something clicked in Ghi’s head. His face blanched. He reached into his sweatshirt.

  "Oh no."

  "Oh no what?" I demanded.

  "The letter." He patted his entire torso frantically and then froze. "I lost it."

  I eyed the closest cabin door. I needed to get away from them before they started asking me more questions.

  "Well, that's too bad," I said, taking my first step away. "But I really don't―"

  Care?

  A possible crisis slowly seeped in. My eye twitched. Whether I liked it or not, I was starting to care.

  I turned and stepped over to Ghi, glaring down at him. "Did she take it?"

  Ghi put his hands over his mouth in a way that would’ve been comical had I not wanted to strangle him.

  "I don’t know," he said, his eyes darting from left to right. "Maybe. Yes. I think."

  Shit.

  The letter. That woman. Jesse.

  "What is it?" Corin watched the changing degrees of panic on my face. "What’s the problem?"

  I could hardly hear him, I was thinking so far ahead. To the instructions in that letter. To a massacre on the set of Odette. To Jesse, struck dead by an artillery of water guns ...

  The jarring of the ferry as it began to dock surprised us all. Corin shifted his attention from me to look back across the water, watching as another boat prepared to leave Liberty Island, worrying about who might be on board—if she’d thawed out already.

  "Alright everyone," he prompted. "Where to now?"