Damon grabbed the television remote, connecting the TV to his phone. He pointed at the screen. "That girl right there. You all are gonna rescue her."

  The first thing Zoe noticed was that the girl was young—based on the younger kids around Crater, she guestimated her age to be seven or eight.

  The picture was grainy. The photographer had taken the image from a ways away and had to zoom in to see any precise detail on the child's face. Her tiny frame was dwarfed by the men around her. They wore military-grade camo, their faces obscured by shadows, assault rifles slung over their shoulders. Her eyes were closed, and her tiny fist gripped the back of one of the men's shirts. Something about the image made Zoe’s stomach twist.

  Damon walked to the kitchen—it was a dark design with black marble walls and counters. He took out a massive blender, tossing several fresh fruits, juices, and powders into it. Afterward, looking at Paul, holding up a glass, he asked, "You want some?"

  He shook his head, "I'm fine."

  "What about your daughter over there," he nodded to Zheanni.

  Paul nudged her. She looked up from her phone, "What?" He pointed to the blender. "No." She shook her head, going back to her phone.

  "I'll have some," Yahd said, walking into the kitchen.

  Zoe tuned out the small talk, her attention glued to the photo. She felt Kalimba move closer, standing next to her, studying the picture on the screen.

  "So it looks like she's in a desert or maybe on a beach," Kalimba noted, deep in thought. He turned to Zoe, who stood staring at the picture. He stuck out his hand, introducing himself once more.

  She shook his hand. "Zoe," she said, returning to look at the girl on the screen.

  "Do you know energy?"

  Zoe whirled toward him, staring at him with wide eyes. She glanced around the room, but no one seemed to notice.

  "Yo, it's okay," he chuckled, "Everyone already knows about it here. We don't need to hide anything. I'm just trying to get a gauge on things."

  "Oh, okay," Zoe breathed. "Sorry, I just…well, yeah, I can use it. I'm not sure how well I can comparatively. I have somewhat of a scattered experience. I don't have much to put it up against."

  "That's okay. As long as you can use it reliably."

  "Yeah," she nodded.

  "Alrighty!" Damon walked back from the kitchen. He tapped his phone, and the picture on the TV changed to another. "This is where she's being held." To Zoe, it looked to be an abandoned military outpost. "A compound in the middle of nowhere. Originally, it was built for the production of drugs by some terrorist group some odd decades ago; abandoned for a bit, but now on to new management. So basically, you will infiltrate this place. Find her and bring her back to my yacht."

  "That's it?" Asher asked skeptically.

  "Hey!" Damon snapped, "I'm down over fifty million buying the coordinates and location of this girl, alright. Don't take this shit lightly!"

  "Okay, okay," Asher held up his hands, "Just seemed too simple, is all."

  Kalimba nodded, "Don't worry. I'll lay down my life for this girl."

  Damon glanced at his diamond-encrusted watch. "Well, we should actually leave now." He looked at Paul and Zheanni. "You guys wanna come."

  "Nah," Zheanni said. "I've gotta be somewhere in a few days."

  The helicopter descended over the sprawling yacht, its shadow rippling across the turquoise water below. The wind from the blades whipped Damon’s button-up shirt as he yelled, "Two hundred feet long!"

  After they landed, the group disembarked quickly, and soon the yacht was cutting through the open seas, leaving the coastline a distant memory.

  Several hours later, Damon lounged on the bow, reclining in a beach chair under a large umbrella. He sipped lazily from a glass of iced tea, his all-white button-up shirt and khaki shorts stark against the deep blue backdrop of the ocean. He pulled down his sunglasses, regarding the three kids that stood over him. Sighing, "What?"

  "For being so anal about how much you spent, you don't seem very invested in this," Asher noted, his arms crossed.

  Damon reclined in a beach chair on the bow of his ship under a large umbrella. He wore an all-white button-up t-shirt and khaki shorts. "Why the rush?" he shrugged. "We have about three days on this thing before we even see the coastline. Y'know, there's no need to get all stressed. Just relax," he smiled, looking over at one of the four women he had brought with him.

  She was tall and thick with short black hair, wearing nothing but a bathing suit. She sat on the edge of a nearby shaded table, her phone in one hand and a styrofoam cup in the other.

  She smiled, noting how Yahd kept shooting glances at her from across the boat.

  Kalimba, who stood next to Asher and Zoe, spoke up, "It'd be cool if we had details earlier. We can have more time to think of something."

  "Alright, fine," Damon sighed theatrically. "Everyone, come here!"

  Everyone huddled under the umbrella, avoiding the early afternoon heat, looking at the phone in Damon's hand. As he talked, he scrolled through hundreds of pictures. "Now, according to my sources, she's in some underground basement in this compound."

  "As opposed to an aboveground basement?" Yahd asked.

  Damon ignored him and kept talking, "The place is moderately guarded—fifteen to twenty guys in there."

  "They have guns and stuff like that?" Mitani asked.

  Damon nodded, "They aren't guarding the place with rocks and sticks."

  "Uh," Asher mumbled. "I'm not a battle type, and I didn't bring any weapons…"

  Damon smiled, "Don't worry. I've got everything you need. I'm assuming you all know how to use guns."

  Everyone nodded but Zoe.

  He pointed, "Not you?"

  "No," she shook her head. "I never had the chance to."

  "It's not too hard..." Damon's eyes scanned the ship as he patted his pockets. He got up, walking to a cabinet. Inside was a pile of guns and ammo. He rooted through it, picking out a sleek, bright pink pistol with a cartoon cat charm hanging off the side.

  "Here," he tossed the pistol to Zoe, who awkwardly caught it, almost dropping the heavy thing.

  Zoe stared at the gun with wide eyes, "Uh," she mumbled.

  "What? You don't like the color? I thought girls like the color pink."

  'I don't.' Zoe thought. "I don't know what you want me to do with it."

  "You can practice. Just shoot at the water or birds for target practice."

  "I-I don't know."

  Damon shrugged, laying back on the beach chair, "I'm sure one of them will be thrilled to teach you." He yawned. "But that's all I got for today."

  "I mean…I don't know, Zoe. Can I be honest?" Asher asked. "You're not gonna get mad at me or something?"

  "I don't get offended at anything," Zoe said, lowering the gun.

  "Are you at good any other combat skills?"

  Zoe hesitated, her gaze drifting out over the endless ocean. They stood at the bow of Damon's yacht, the late afternoon sun casting a golden glow on the waves. For the past several hours, they'd been attempting to teach her the basics of shooting. Pistols, shotguns, assault rifles…she didn't get the hang of any of it. The only weapon she was semi-competent at was the sniper rifle. "I have two knives I can use. I think I'm alright at it—better than the average person, maybe."

  "What do you think, Kalimba?"

  Kalimba leaned on the railing near them. He watched the fish hiding in the shadow of the ship. He listened intently to the sound of waves crashing against the yacht as it glided through the water. 'Something is weird about this,' he thought. 'It’s not like I’ve been on a ship before. Maybe it’s normal to feel this way—hundreds of miles from any landmass, surrounded by nothing but water. Yeah, anyone would feel a bit wary, right?'

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  "Yo! Kalimba!"

  "Huh?" He snapped out of his thoughts, looking up. "Oh, sorry, what was the question?"

  "How does she fit into all of this?" Asher repeated, a hint of impatience in his voice.

  Kalimba straightened, crossing his arms. "I don't think we have a chance." He said

  "What?" Asher scowled. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

  "If we go in guns blazing, we're dead. Our best option would be to sneak in."

  "I can be stealthy," Zoe agreed, her hand brushing over the charm dangling from the pistol Damon had given her. She took a deep breath., 'Even though I don't want to be here in the first place, I can't be deadweight and let them down.'

  Several hours later, below deck, Kalimba walked into the dining room. The dining room below deck had the atmosphere of an old saloon, with dim orange lights casting warm shadows over the wooden walls and floors. A polished bar lined one side of the room, though no one had touched it all day.

  On the other side of the room, Yahd and Asher had found a video game system and had plugged it into a TV. The clicking of their controllers and the sound of gunfire almost overpowered the bass of the muffled rap music ebbing from Damon's room on the floor above.

  "Have any of you guys seen Mitani?"

  "Nope," Asher mumbled, his eyes glued to the TV. "We've all been in here, and I haven't seen him for like an hour."

  "I was going to ask Damon, but he seems…busy."

  "Hold on," Yahd paused the game, ignoring Asher’s groan of protest. He stood, his expression shifting to mild concern. "You haven't seen him either?"

  Kalimba shook his head, "No, I was going to ask him something, but he wasn't in his room or in any of the bathrooms. What about Zoe? Has she seen him?"

  Asher glanced toward the table where Zoe had been sitting earlier. The black-and-gold playing cards that had once covered the tabletop were gone, and so was Zoe. His brow furrowed. "When did she leave?"

  "I dunno," he shrugged. "I was locked in."

  On the far side of the ship, Zoe sat on the edge of the bathtub, her body tense. The yacht tilted sharply to one side, sending a wave of nausea through her as it slammed back down against the water.

  She’d barely managed to stay upright in the shower earlier, slipping on the wet floor and almost cracking her head against the wall. She ran a hand through her hair, feeling shampoo cling to it in sticky streaks. The smell of coconut filled the small bathroom.

  Her stomach twisted with unease. She gulped, gripping the edge of the tub. She had an idea of what she needed to do, but she hated it. Shaking her head, she shoved the plug into the drain and twisted the hot water faucet. The tub gurgled as steaming water poured in, inching toward the rim. A knock on the bedroom door startled her, and she wrapped herself quickly in a towel. Peeking through the peephole, she spotted Kalimba standing outside with Asher at his side.

  Zoe hesitated before opening the door. "Yes?"

  "Oh! My bad," Kalimba’s eyes flicked down before he averted his gaze, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, I was just wondering if you've seen Mitani." He looked over to Asher, seeing his wide eyes staring.

  Zoe frowned, leaning against the doorframe, "I don't think I've seen him for a few hours. Why?"

  "Us too. It's like he just disappeared."

  "Wait," Asher said. "Maybe he fell overboard." He looked to Kalimba, "I didn't get a chance to connect to him, so I can't find him."

  "Oh no," a shadow passed over Kalimba's face, "No. No, I'm sure that wouldn't happen. Uh, anyways," he glanced back to Zoe, "We'll leave you to your business."

  Zoe watched as Kalimba grabbed Asher by the arm and pulled him away, walking down the hallway, glancing into every room they passed.

  Zoe nodded, shutting the door and locking it behind her. As their footsteps faded, she froze. "Oh no!" She ran back into the bathroom, turning off the faucet just as the water reached the edge of the tub, spilling slightly onto the floor.

  She wiped the condensation off the mirror, staring into it. She cocked her head, staring at the corner of the mirror, wiping off what she thought was a smudge, but it was indelible. Behind her, a gurgling sound reminded Zoe of what Ivy's stomach sounded like when she was hungry. 'What the…' she turned, her eyes flicking to the edge of the tub.

  A hand, thin and pale, clutched the edge of the bathtub momentarily before swiftly retracting into the water, vanishing with a splash.

  Zoe screamed, falling backward. She scrambled across the slippery tiled floor, clambering behind the sink. 'Was it my imagination, or was there energy surrounding the hand?'

  She sat staring, unblinking. Slowly, she maneuvered from under the sink. Attempting to make as little noise as possible, Zoe crawled to the bathroom door. She held her breath as she moved toward the handle—though it was only a few feet away, it felt like miles.

  She reached out, extending her arm toward the door, just inches away. Her hand gripped the doorknob; as she twisted, she turned, looking back at the tub—her breath caught in her throat.

  Mitani stared at her from the tub, his face contorted in agony. A faint aura of purple energy surrounded him, rippling like static. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

  Zoe reacted before she registered what had happened, something large and slimy burst from the water—a translucent tube, glistening with mucus and faintly glowing with a blue light. It lashed out, striking the spot where she’d been an instant before.

  "Mitani! Wha-" she stopped, her eyes focusing on what was surrounding him. Her eyes locked on the thing in the tub. It was almost invisible, quivering and shuddering with each movement. The energy surrounding it pulsed like a heartbeat. Mitani opened his mouth in a silent scream.

  'This isn't him. Someone or something has him trapped! My knives are on the bedside, and I can't open the door quickly because it swings inwards.'

  The thing in the bathtub gurgled as a single eye-stock rose from the water. Its large emotionless black eye stared at her, blinking before submerging once more.

  Seeing her chance, Zoe ripped open the door, running into her room, and slammed it. Behind her, there was a splash and a thud as the creature flopped onto the bathroom floor.

  She unbuckled the holster of one of her knives—a small wavy silver blade with an odd number of curves.

  The sound of wet slaps on marble tile came quickly. She whirled, seeing the eye-stock blink at her from under the door. Its dark eye was studying her as she cautiously stepped toward the door.

  Then came a loud snap. The door splintered, a large dent forming as something slammed into it from the other side.

  Zoe fell into the hallway as the door shattered, pieces of wood scattering everywhere. A slimy tube shot out, barely missing her foot as she scrambled backward.

  The smell hit her—a mix of spices and rotting fish. The tube quivered, and a sound like a sneeze came from deep within it. A moment later, blue goo speckled with red flecks shot from the end, splattering across Zoe’s face.

  She flinched. The smell shifted suddenly, becoming sickly sweet. Almost saccharine.

  It was feint, but she noticed a light blue energy surrounding the tube.

  Just as quickly as it appeared, the tube receded back into the bathroom, and all was silent. Zoe sat frozen, her breath ragged, the knife trembling in her hand. The only sounds were the steady hum of the ship’s engine and the pounding of footsteps rounding the corner.