Chapter 14 · Lot Four

"The vent's dead too." Calder's thumb slammed the manual release a second time, third time, and nothing answered but a dry click, like a gun that wouldn't fire.

I pulled my knees up on the steel bunk, shirt hanging off one shoulder where he'd torn it, the fabric still damp with his breath. My skin still had his fingerprints on it, four dark marks blooming under my collarbone. "Try it again."

"I am trying it again." His jaw was tight enough to crack. "This hatch doesn't fail. I built it not to fail."

"Well, it's failing, Calder."

The overhead light stuttered, went from red to nothing, then came back low and orange, like a fever. Something behind the wall panel hummed to life on its own — a screen I hadn't noticed before, set flush into the steel, dark until now. It blinked. Numbers scrolled. My stomach dropped before my brain caught up with why.

DOCK BOARD — LIVE FEED. 04:52 AM.

"What is that," I said, though some ugly, fast part of me already knew.

Calder went still in a way that scared me more than his hands ever had.