Stowaway by Emma Bennett

Once you get up there, just feel for the small latch around the
other side of the smokestack. You can’t miss it, if you know it is there.”
    I look to see
where she is pointing. It’s a tall climb up a thin metal ladder. It turns out
Mike is scared of heights and threatens to charge overtime if I make him come
with me. So, I park him there as a lookout with Rose. He almost looks unhappy
enough with that option to brave the ladder. Almost.
    The rickety metal
rungs clank as I ascend up them, even though I try to climb softly. So much for my stealth skills. At least the wind kills most
of the noise. The flimsy ladder sways enough as I climb that I feel my stomach roll.
I would turn back too, except there is no one else to do this. So I go on.
    The smell of
whatever fuel they burn on the ship is strong up near the platform, and I can
feel hot wisps of smoke grazing my cheeks as I get closer. If it was a brighter
night, I could probably see the fingers of haze too, but as it is, I see
nothing.
    After I haul
myself up onto the platform with an ungraceful thud, I feel my way around the
smokestack, like Rose had instructed, until I felt the small latch. Right where
she said it would be. The door groans with rust, but surprisingly, opens easy
enough. Using my cell phone as a dim flashlight, I peer into the opening. I
still can’t see anything though, so I stick my head farther inside.
    My eyes haven’t
totally adjusted to the darkness yet, but it looks empty in here. Something
brushes my arm, an insect or something. I swipe at it, and feel that it has
more size and weight than a spider. As I register that a cold hand is touching
me, the rest of the body follows. Apparently, it was encased in plastic and stuffed
into the corner, but I shifted it out of its cocoon when I shoved my way in.
    I look over just
in time to see that George’s blank eyes are crashing toward me. I run backwards
back out the hole before his face touches mine and watch his corpse collapse
onto the floor just inside the doorway.
    I slam the door
shut on reflex, and as I back away, I open my mouth to scream. However, no
sound comes out. It is because a hand is suddenly covering my face. This time,
it is not cold and decaying. It is warm and very much alive. The hard grip
makes it difficult to breathe as I am dragged.
    I struggle to get
back to Rose and Mike, but now a whole arm encircles me too, pulls me deeper into
the shadows, as if that is needed in this incessant darkness.
    “If you’ll stop
fighting, I’ll let you go,” the male voice says in my ear.
    I freeze, then nod. Anything to get the
cigarette-smelling hand to release my face. When it does, I wheel
around, my pepper spray in hand. The man easily knocks it away before I can
squeeze anything out of the can.
    “Seriously? Pepper spray? Come on!”
    It’s the suit. He
looks down at a sheet of paper, then back at me.
    “I thought it was
you earlier, “he continues. “I figured you’d change your look, but really
thought you’d go the do-it-yourself bathroom sink color and hack job route on
that hair. Classy to see you sprung for the salon. Someday, you’re going to
have to tell me how you managed that with no money.”
    “You! How did you find me?”
    He holds out the
paper, which I can see is a squinting, angry picture of myself and a smiling
Mike, who is cuddled up next to me. Kimberly the
photographer’s photo from the bar. If possible, my driver’s license
image is better.
    “You didn’t
exactly make it hard, honey. You even posed with your delinquent buddy Mike in
this picture. At first, I thought you were taunting me, but now I think you are
just about the worst criminal I’ve ever seen trying to lay low.”
    Suddenly, I’m
angry and just want this over. Luke can wait. Looks like this guy just took the
top slot.
    “You got me into
this mess!”
    “Whoa,
lady! I did not. I was just asked to track you down to give you these
papers. But, since you’ve been such a joy to find, I