All this happened in the matter of seconds. I ran back to Paula’s cabin, unbolted the door, threw it open, whipped around and dragged the unconscious man in and dropped him on the floor.
“I walked right into him,” I panted as I bent over him. I lifted an eyelid. He was out all right, and by the pulpy softness at the back of his head he would be out for some time.
“Put him in that cupboard,” Paula said. “I’ll watch him.” She was pale, but quite unruffled.
It took a lot to rattle her.
I dragged him across the cabin and into the cupboard. I had to squash him in, and I got the door shut only by leaning my weight against it.
“Phew!” I said, and wiped off my face. “He’ll be all right in there if he doesn’t suffocate. It’s like a furnace in here.”
“It’s worrying me. Even the floor’s hot. Do you think there’s a fire somewhere?”
I put my hand on the carpet. It was hot all right: too hot. I opened the cabin door and put my hand on the planks of the deck. They were so hot they nearly raised a blister.
“Good grief!” I exclaimed. “You’re right. The damned ship is on fire somewhere below.” I caught her arm and pulled her out on to the deck. “You’re not staying in there. Come on, kid, keep behind me. We’ll take a quick look and then get up on the top deck.” I checked my wrist-watch. It was five minutes to nine. “Jack’ll be out in five minutes.”
As we moved along the deck, Paula said, “Shouldn’t we raise the alarm? The ship’s full of people, Vic.”