The Extinction Trials(62)

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were resting.”

“No. I was just thinking. Come on in.”

She slipped inside and closed the door. “It was brilliant thinking with the times on the file list.”

“It seemed obvious to me.”

“I don’t think it was to any of the rest of us.”

“Just the way my mind works.”

Maya sat down on the other narrow bed. Being this close to her stirred the fire within Owen. He wished he could pull her close, kiss her, lock the door and spend some time with her before they reached Garden Station. But he desperately needed to figure out what was wrong with the stories the others had told—deep down, he felt their survival depended on it.

Maya seemed to read him like an open book.

“Something is bothering you.”

“Yes,” Owen said. “I feel like I’m missing something. Can’t put my finger on it.”

“Such as?”

“Something about all their stories. There’s something off. I know it’s there, but I can’t quite bring it to the surface.”

“I think we’re all exhausted and stressed, and maybe it’s just our minds trying to find meaning where there is none.”

“Maybe.” For whatever reason, a thought occurred to Owen. “Have you seen Alister’s tattoo? The one on his forearm?

“No. He doesn’t have a tattoo on his forearm.”

Owen pushed up in the bed. “Yes, he does. I saw it yesterday in his stateroom. It’s quite elaborate.”

“Interesting. Because I was just above decks, and it was warm enough that he took his sweater off. There’s nothing there.”

Owen tried to wrap his head around that. He had been exhausted when he had seen the tattoo—or thought he saw it. Had he imagined it? Apparently.

“Is that some kind of clue?” Maya asked.

“That, or I’m hallucinating.”

After a pause, Maya went on. “Thank you for trusting my instincts on the ship.”

“You have good instincts. They’ve saved us a few times now.”

“So have yours.”

In his mind, the piece clicked into place for Owen. “That’s part of it: us. I think the six of us are like some sort of tapestry.”

“A tapestry?”

“I think our stories knit together. So do our skills. And our personalities. Even our values. There’s something to that. I think it might be the key to everything.”





At some point, Maya and Owen had stopped talking, and she had stretched out on the bed and wrapped an arm around him. With her warm touch on his body and the waves striking the hull, Owen was finally lulled into a deep sleep.

He woke to a gentle hand on his face and shoulder.

“Owen.”

It was Maya’s voice.

“We’re here.”

He rose, bound through the door, and raced up the stairs and onto the main deck.

The sun was setting in the distance, causing him to raise a hand to shade his eyes.

Owen expected to see an island. Or the shore and a city waiting there. Or even another container ship.

He saw nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

In every direction, it was only open sea.

He had been wrong.





Chapter Forty-Nine





Maya saw the disappointment in Owen’s face. She knew exactly how he felt. On the ship, when she pressed him to search for the container, she put herself out there like that.

Now he had made a leap, and it had led to a dead-end. A dead-end on the sea. With time running out.

While they now had more food thanks to the duffel bags, they didn’t have a way to get any more.

Standing on the deck, staring at the horizon, Owen had the look Maya had come to know well since waking up in Station 17: focused concentration that could break through any problem.

His voice was calm but forceful when he spoke. “Will. Bring the monocular.”

A thrill went through Maya. That was it. It had to be.

Owen held the small device to his eye and spun slowly.

She waited, and on his face, she saw the truth before he spoke.

“Nothing,” he muttered as he handed the monocular back to Will, who tried it as well.

“Perhaps it only works at night,” the younger man said. “Perhaps when the sun sets, we’ll see whatever is here.”

Alister exhaled heavily. “Yes, maybe there will be a fireworks show too.”

When no one responded, Alister continued: “Look, we tried it. There’s nothing here. Let’s go to The Colony. End of story.”

“I’d like to wait,” Owen said quietly. “I want to make sure there’s nothing here.”

An idea occurred to Maya. “Maybe waiting is the answer.” She took the pocket watch out. “Time. We wait until the time indicated on the watch. Maybe it’s not what’s here. Maybe what we’re meant to find is what’s coming.”





With the boat’s motors off, the small vessel rocked quietly in the choppy sea, waiting.

At the dining table, Alister, Cara, and Blair played cards.

Will spent his time examining every last piece of the suits. Maya knew the sight of the storm had scared him, and he was working on a way to get more oxygen into the tanks—just in case they needed them.