Chapter Twenty-Five
A coarse length of rope hung from the lower deck of the Corinthian Star, disappearing into dark waters below. From the dirt and mud caked around its thick cords, it didn’t look as though it had been used in years.
A passerelle or some kind of gangway, attached further down the crumbling vessel at the second deck level—attached to a set of steps leading down to the dock. But that route would announce my presence before I even set foot on the deck.
I chose the rope ladder.
The potential danger of frayed or rotten fibers was clear, but the only other alternative—a tattered old fishing vessel—was too far away to make the leap. At least if I fell, the mud and water would cushion the landing.
Hand over fist, using my legs by twisting the rope into an ‘s’ shape, I pulled
