“That’s what he infected Thomas with,” I explained, gaining speed as I figured it out. “The worms explain the fevers and seizures, the hunger and thirst—your body tries to fight them off, but if it doesn’t, they need energy to grow … and they want to reach water before they die. That’s why people keep going overboard and drowning.”
While I spoke, Asher watched me, weighing what I said—it felt like he was weighing me—and I saw his jaw set as he resolved something. He reached into the pocket of his torn pants, then held out four pills on his palm. “I saw him take one of these. That must be what they’re for. To kill the worms.”
“And when were you going to share them with us?” Claire asked.
“I forgot I had them,” Asher said as she tsked. “I didn’t know what they were for until now.”
Claire stared him down. At least I wasn’t the only one who knew he was a liar. I knew he didn’t get sick—but that wouldn’t stop him from saving them all for me.
“So we’re all infected—” Rory said, finally satisfied now that we’d confirmed his worst fears.
Asher shrugged. “I don’t know. Some of you all might have natural immunity, or luck, but Nathaniel doesn’t seem like the type to take chances.”
“How do you know all this?” Hal asked.
“We’d worked together. Like I said.”
“You helped him do this to us? To my parents?” Rory said. He wasn’t holding the knife anymore, but I doubted that he’d dropped it.
“Seven years ago,” Asher explained, shaking his head. “And I didn’t help, so much as steal some research for him. Damning with faint praise, I know.” Asher looked around the room to include the rest of the ship, then spoke directly to me. “If I’d known it would lead to this, I sure as hell wouldn’t be here.”
“I know,” I told him. I’d tell him about the Shadows interfering with our travel plans to bring us here as punishment later; it wouldn’t make sense to anyone else right now.
Emily’s face crinkled. “I don’t want there to be worms inside me.”
“I know, honey,” Claire told her, stroking her hair.
Asher pushed his hand out. “I don’t need one of these. And I’m not sure that one dose is enough. But I suggest the rest of you all take one.” Asher offered the pills on his palm to me. I picked one up, and then he offered the rest of them around. Rory took one, then Emily, and then it was down to Claire and Hal.
“I suspect sirens are immune,” she said. “I should be fine.” Hal nodded, her word gospel, and popped the pill into his mouth.
I held the pill up. “What is it?” They were faintly tan, pressed without any markings. My brain was filled with all the things that it could be.
“I don’t know. But I know he takes them. So they’re safe.”
I could tell Asher was overselling it. “For men. Non-pregnant men. I don’t feel sick yet,” I said, trying to ignore visions of the slowly spinning things dying in Raluca’s torso—and how Raluca had seemed fine. I swallowed drily.
“Edie, I can’t lose you.”
He couldn’t lose me—but I couldn’t lose this baby. And taking unknown and likely experimental medicine didn’t seem safe. Besides, what were the chances of one dose being enough? Or of me not getting reinfected before I got off this boat? I leaned into Asher’s shoulder so I wouldn’t have to see the look in his eyes. “I never should have left you,” he whispered, his head by my ear.
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.” I nodded into him, accepting his apology. “We can have another child though, Edie. If it can happen once, it can happen again. I need you.”
“I need you, too,” I said, because it was the truth.
Asher pulled me to him tighter, his roughness revealing his fear. “Please, just take the pill.”
“Okay.” I’d seen so many patients palm pills before that I knew it wasn’t hard. I put my hand to my mouth, faked a swallow, and felt him nod.
“Thank you.” His relief was palpable.
“What now?” I asked as he turned around. He didn’t see me putting the unmarked pill into the pocket of my jeans.
“Now—we figure out how to get off this boat.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Asher stood quietly for a moment thinking, and I almost felt safe standing by his side. I’d never be the kind of woman to give over all thought to anyone else, but it was nice, deep-down-in-my-bones nice, to have him here with me again. Despite the odds, with Asher around I almost felt like we had a chance.
Rory was sitting equidistant from Claire and us, trying to keep an eye on everyone who was supernatural at once, and Claire and Hal were whispering to each other just as Asher and I had been. Emily had the radio up to her ear in the semblance of a cell phone. Asher saw this and nodded at her. “Hey Emily—what do you hear?”
She shrugged and handed the radio out to him. He took it, with Rory swinging dramatically backward to be out of his way.
“The medical channel is number five,” I said, and Asher grunted, turning up the volume and flipping through the rest of them. Languages I couldn’t understand crackled through, sounding just as excited as they had when Hal had done the same earlier. Asher narrowed his eyes and held the TALK button down.
“Hello, is anyone out there? Can you hear me? Hallo, is daar iemand daar buite? Kan jy my hoor? Alo, este cineva acolo? Poți să mă auzi?” He started off in English and went through three different languages in quick succession. “What is happening? Are there any survivors?”
“Wie is jy?” came through in a burst of static from the other side.
“Ek is ’n gas hier, wegkruip van die manne met gewere! Wat de hel gaan aan?” Asher said.
“Hoe weet ek dat jy nie een van hulle?” said the man back. I finally recognized the accent.
“It’s Marius!” I said and clapped my hands.
Asher broke into a grin. “I believe we met once, outside the medical bay.”
There was a staticky pause. “So your girlfriend found you at last?”
“Yes. What’s going on out there? Stay in Afrikaans so they won’t translate you.”
There was another, longer burst of Afrikaans, as Asher nodded.
I didn’t know what Marius was saying, but I recognized some names. Jorge—I was so glad he was all right—and Kate.
Asher let go of the button to address us again. “He says they’re trying to get to the lifeboat deck, but they’re scared of the gunmen. They’re getting ready to make a run for it.”
I nodded. “Then so should we.”
“Hello?” came in another voice, with another accent, shouted over mechanical background noise. I tensed.
“Hello?” Asher answered back, with the same accented English.
“Naririnig mo ba ako! May mga lalake dito na may hawak na baril! Tulungan niyo kami!”
I didn’t know what they were saying, but Asher’s expression turned dark, and he asked a series of fast questions.
“Mga trabahador kami sa ibaba ng barko, dito kami sa baba, malapit sa lugar ng makina. Bilis!”
“What language is that?” Rory asked.
Asher let go of the TALK button. “Tagalog. He’s one of the fish in the engine room—the workers who live belowdecks.”
“Tell them about the guns—”
“They already know,” Asher cut in. He pressed the button back down and asked what sounded like questions. His eyes narrowed at their fast response and asked them another question in turn. “Ano ang itsura ng nilalagay nila? Nakikita mo ba?”
“Mukhang gam! Isang malaking gam!” came the response, followed by a gun report.
“What’s he saying?” Claire demanded.
“He sees gum.” Asher rocked back, lowering the radio. “They’re putting plastic explosives on the walls.”
Hal groaned. “They want to breach the hull.”
“But if they do that—” I said in a whisper.
“We’ll all die,” Rory finished for me.
Asher held the radio up again and asked another question. “May naiisip ka bang paraan para mapatigil siya?”
“Bahagi siya ng isang pares. Tinututukan siya ng baril ng isang lalake. Natakasan lang namin yung isa dahil naubusan siya ng bala.”
“Lost at sea’s no way to die—tell him to escape,” Hal suggested as Asher’s conversation went on.
“Subukin mo makarating sa ikatlong palapag. Subukin mong makatakas.”
There was a bitter laugh on the other end of the line before another response.
“What’s he saying?” Emily asked me.
“I don’t know, honey,” I said, as Asher gave me a look that was both hapless and dismayed, clicking off the line definitively.
“He’s injured, a bullet shattered his leg. They took down one gunman, but one remains,” he said.
“We have to stop them,” I said, and Hal nodded agreement.
Asher took a measured breath and shook his head. “No, we don’t. What we need to do is get off this boat. We get to the third deck, and then we get the hell out of here—”
“But there’s still people alive on board. Not just the ones we talked to on the radio—we have to try to warn them. If this ship is going down, we have to,” I protested.
He paused, and I could tell he was choosing his next words carefully for my sake. “I can’t see any possible way this will work.” I didn’t know whether him being willing to leave everyone else to die was instinct, fear, or love—or maybe all three. Even worse, I knew he was right. But—
“Mercenaries don’t sign on for suicide missions.” Hal interrupted my thoughts. “Unless somehow those are government guns, those men think they’re getting off this boat alive. And if they’ve got time to get off, we’ve got time to stop them.”