THE VENGEFUL LUNA
“We have vastly underestimated our opponent. Leave with me or die here tonight.”
“I don’t understand,” I say stubbornly. A fog seems to have settled in my brain; the whole situation has taken on the cast of dream, of nonreality.
“Dead,” he says loudly, startling me into the moment. “As in not breathing. Ever. Again.”
His words are a punch in the jaw; I’m reeling from the impact. Four other men, all trained paramilitary professionals like Gray, dead. I look back at the boat, where everything is still dark, where there is no movement or sound. It’s a ghost ship. Panic starts to undermine my sanity.
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