As he reached for the latch, a low, rhythmic thumping started from within the metal walls. It wasn't the sound of shifting cargo. It was a heartbeat.
Elias approached the rusted steel doors. The first four digits, 5825 , represented the origin code—a defunct research station in the Arctic. The remaining seven, 3104988 , were supposed to be the weight and contents. But the math didn't add up. 3,104,988 kilograms was impossible for a single crate; it would have sunk the ship the moment it touched the deck. 5825-3104988
The manifest in Elias’s hands was damp from the harbor fog. He ran his thumb over the entry at the bottom of the page: . As he reached for the latch, a low,