Casey scrambled up through the gap, and tried to look around. The workers had sliced straight into the Tephi’s hold, the space impossibly dark. Inside the ship, the velvet blackness filled her eyes. Casey held her hand in front of her eyes, and saw no movement. For a second, she felt as if she had dissolved, disappeared.

She shook her head, dragging herself back to the present. It smelt of oil down here. It was colder, too. Dank.

She reached for her torch.

‘Do you think we should use the light?’ asked Ed, as Hessa climbed up beside them.

‘It’ll be impossible if we don’t.’

And I can’t. I can’t. I won’t.

For a moment, the three of them blinked, staring around the hold. The shadows flickered like ghosts as Casey glanced around. In the dusty torch beam, vast bulkheads rose up to the next deck. The walls and floors were painted a utilitarian khaki, a fretwork of salt covering everything, a memory of the ship’s last life.

In the corner, a steep ladder climbed to the next level. Casey moved towards it, clipping the torch to her belt before she climbed, sending a madness of light bouncing round the hold. It felt like the old ship was lying in wait, watching for the next move. The light reached out into impossibly dark corners, and anything could be there. Anything. The silence closed in.

‘Come on,’ said Casey. ‘Come on.’

She was out of breath by the time she reached the highest deck, bursting into the fresh air with relief. Once, this whole deck would have been piled high with shipping containers. Uniform in shape and slotted into place by derricks and brisk cargo winches, at port after port after port. Now, there was nothing except a couple of roosting birds that screeched away loudly as Casey and Hessa hurried down the deck, Ed following them.

Chittagong glowed orange to the south. The workers had already stripped away many of the Tephi’s fittings. The lifeboats were gone from this deck, along most of the railings. Casey peered up at the barns, but everything was still.

There was an abrupt clatter below decks, echoing up in the dark. Casey jumped.

Who is there? Who is there?

They stood frozen to the spot as the minutes edged past. Then Casey forced herself to move, legs like lead. One step, and the next, and the next.

‘I don’t think there’s anything here,’ she whispered. ‘We have to keep going.’

She turned towards the bridge, at the rear of the ship along with the living quarters. Once, the bridge would have given the captain a clear view over the mountain of containers.

‘I suppose they might be there,’ whispered Casey.