Chapter 6 - The Ferry to Nowhere-6-
The ferry was a hulking, rusted machine that churned through the dark water, its deck lights buzzing like captured insects. I huddled in the shadows near the rear observation deck, my clothes stiff with salt and oil, the ledger pressed against my skin under my jacket. The heat of the pier explosion was still fading, but my adrenaline was surging, a cold, sharp blade inside me.
There were dozens of people on the ferry—commuters, late-shift workers, tourists—most of them lost in their own worlds, staring at their phones or nursing lukewarm coffee. I felt like a creature from another dimension. I had just walked out of my own grave.
My phone buzzed. It was a message from an unknown number.
“They know you’re on the water. Don’t go to the pier landing. Get off at the second stop. The one near the shipyard.”
I stared at the screen. Who was this? I checked the logs. The IP address wasn't linked to the Syndicate. It was a clean signal, masked by a sophisticated privacy layer that even I couldn't crack.
I walked to the railing, looking back at the harbor. Far off in the distance, I could see the glow of the fire, a tiny red ember in the black velvet of the night. Sirens were wailing, a chorus of high-pitched alarms echoing over the water. They were coming for the pier. They were coming for the evidence.
I had to be smarter than them.
The ferry slowed, its engines rumbling as it approached the first landing. The crowd surged toward the doors. I stayed in the shadows.
A man in a dark coat stood near the exit, his eyes scanning the passengers. It was one of Alex’s men. He was checking faces, looking for me.
I ducked behind a large trash bin and crawled through the lower deck. I reached the maintenance locker I’d spotted on the deck plans. I pried it open and found a spare deckhand’s uniform—greasy, oversized, and smelling of engine exhaust. I stripped off my jacket and vest, stuffed them into the locker, and pulled on the overalls.
When the ferry reached the second stop—the shipyard—the man in the dark coat was still at the main exit, but he wasn't looking at the deckhands.
I walked right past him, my head down, a mop bucket in one hand and a trash bag in the other. He didn't even glance at me.
I stepped off the ferry and into the industrial wasteland of the shipyard. The air here was heavy with the scent of ozone and welding fumes. I kept walking, weaving through the maze of dry-docks and skeletal ship frames.
I was being tracked, but not by people. By systems. My phone was a beacon. I stopped, pulled the battery and the SIM card, and dropped them into a vat of caustic paint stripper.
I was invisible now.
I found a payphone near a guard shack and dialed the only number that mattered. Not Oliver’s. Not the police.
I dialed the number of the New York Times’ investigative desk.
"This is Maya Vance," I said when the reporter picked up. "I have the records of Sterling Logistics. I have the ledger of the Syndicate of the Blank Ledger. I have the location of their human trafficking hub at Pier 42. And I have proof that my husband, Alex Vance, is a high-level liquidator for an organization that has been operating with impunity for decades."
There was a long, stunned silence on the other end.
"Ms. Vance? Is this a prank?"
"Look at your email," I said, reciting an address I’d created moments ago. "I’m sending the first three thumb drives. If I die in the next twelve hours, the rest go to the authorities, the public, and the international press. Don't call me. Just watch the pier."
I hung up and started walking. I wasn't going to the suburbs. I wasn't going to the police. I was going to disappear.
I reached the subway entrance, my reflection catching in the window of a closed store. I looked different. Harder. More defined. The "glorified nanny" was gone, replaced by a ghost who had decided to become a hurricane.
May you like
I took the subway to the end of the line, got out, and walked until the city lights faded into the grey, sprawling industrial suburbs. I had one more stop to make. The woman in Seattle. I had to warn her.
As I walked, I realized that for the first time in my life, I didn't care if I survived. I just cared that they lost.
