I could kill them, but I have to assume anyone working the bridge would be missed more than a perpetually drunk sailor. Rumors are already starting to spread that he stumbled and fell over a railing into the ocean one night.
When I get to the bridge, it feels like a miracle.
There is no one inside.
I lurk outside, peering through the windows to be certain because there is no way I can get this lucky. Not after the endless s**t storm that has been the last few weeks.
I don’t see any movement, so I stroll casually to the door, and to my disbelief, it opens.
I am just about to step inside when I hear boots behind me.
“There you are!” I turn and see one of the servers from the kitchen standing there, his chest heaving. “Jesus Christ. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. We have to go.”
