Page 35 of Marek

“We don’t have time,” Marek grinds out. “Barry is gone.”

“Where?”

“Fuckin’ bullet in the skull because he refuses to listen. I’ll deal with him when this storm is over. Get in the boat.”

My heart skips a beat.

He speaks of death as if it’s just a normal daily occurrence.

The idea that I’ll be sharing a ship with a dead man isn’t something I want to process right now. If I manage to get out ofthis alive, then I’ll deal with it later. Until then, I’m just focusing on slipping by without notice. The weather is progressively getting worse, hopefully by the time they get to the shore, they won’t be able to make it back for me.

I don’t move a muscle as they lower the last boat.

I don’t move even when it is dead silent, the only thing I can hear is the waves crashing against the side of the ship as it begins to rock.

Did I just get away with this?

Am I going to be free?

Or is this the worst mistake I could have possibly made?

I guess I’m about to find out.

I’M SCARED.

Mostly because the wind is picking up, and a harrowing howl rolls down the empty halls of the ship as the waves crash angrily against the sides. My stomach turns with each nauseating rock, and I try to find a room that is most central on the ship. It looks like a crewmates room, and only has a small bed, a chair in the corner and no windows. I have my small box from the kitchen, including the gun, ready.

Now, I just have to wait it out.

I drag the mattress from the bed and put it on the ground before I take the chair from the room and put it in another. I can’t risk it barreling towards me in the middle of the night. Once the room is cleared, I sit on the mattress and wait. Hugging my knees to my chest, I prepare myself for the onslaught of wind and rain that is about to test this ship and its strength. If it goes down, I’m going down with it.

The door swings open.

It is dark in the room, so for a moment, I think the wind has somehow broken the latch and sent it flying open but when I see the shadowy figure in the door, I know it wasn’t the wind. Screaming, I scurry backwards, terrified as the dark presence enters the room. Is Barry really alive? Is he looking for someone? Did Marek not do the job properly? Or is it someone else on the ship, someone who had the same idea as me and is now here to kill me.

The figure takes two steps towards me, and the wind blows, whipping his hair out around him. I know the minute I see that hair, who it is. Marek. How the hell did he get back onto the ship? Either way, he will kill me now for sure. Frantically, I lunge towards me bag, pulling out the gun just as he reaches me and hauls me back. A struggle breaks out, his hand curling around my wrist as he tries to drag me from the room.

“You made a fatal mistake, girl,” he barks.

“No. I didn’t.”

I try to swing the gun toward him, but he’s in the wrong position. He pulls me out into the hall and when we’re in the dim light, he notices the gun in my hand. His shock has him releasing my wrist as he lunges towards my other hand. I take the moment to rush backward, away from him, before I raise it. I stand, pointing it at him, panting, my body coated in a fine sheen of sweat as my fingers tremble. “Do it,” he growls, his eyes flashing as he takes a step closer to me.

My hands tremble.

Come on, Ellie.

This is your chance.

Kill him.

He takes another step forward, his wet hair sticking to his face as he pants with a rage I’ve never seen. “Pull the trigger, girl,” he seethes, stepping up close until the gun is pressed intohis chest, “watch my blood scatter across this hall. You want your freedom, now is the chance. Pull the trigger.”

I’m borderline hyperventilating now, my chest rising and falling as I hold the gun to his body. All it takes it one second, one tiny second. I pull the trigger and end him. Just end him. He’ll be gone, I can go home. Go home....to what?

“You don’t want to kill me,” he taunts, his voice low and husky. “Because that means you have to go back to your miserable fucking life and bend yourself to be the person they all want.”

“You’re wrong,” I whisper, my voice shaky. “I want to go home. To my family. To Carter. I do...”

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