John awoke to the sound of a foghorn and gulls. He opened his tired eyes and scanned his small quarters. The small itchy blanket had again fallen off of him in his sleep and he again would be getting up cold. He swung his legs over the edge and dropped to the cold steel floor of the cabin. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and like everyday before for four years he asked the same question: Who are you? He sighed and opened the hatch to the cold rusted ship's hallways. The squeaky hinges on the steel hatch sent a loud screech down the hollow corridor. Before long John saw the corridor bustle with slow, sleepy movement as everybody made their way to the breakfast hall.
John sat down next to Halloway and Markus who were both eating straight from the can. John noticed that a few more cans laid in the middle of the table. His stomach growled and he couldn't wait to eat something that closely resembled food. Only one problem, no can-opener. John grunted in frustration, a ship as poorly funded as this should still be able to afford a few more household commodities. John looked around the only people near by were his two acquaintances from maintenance. Their faces were buried in their cans. John tried to look as inconspicuous as possible as he jammed his thumbnail into the metal rim and ran it around until the lid came free. John didn't like pulling that shit anymore. It was hard enough to forget while leaving it all behind. John threw the lid away and grabbed a fork. His meal today consisted of canned spaghetti…that's it, spaghetti? John sighed and looked around. Risked my secret for disgusting spaghetti. John despised using his abilities, which spanned infinitely further from just opening tin cans. It was just one more reminder that he wasn't human. He was disgusted with himself. Maybe it was a little fun when it started at 23, but after five years of killing and hiding, he was ready to start new. And what better place to do so than the Gangsta Paradise known as Roanapur. What better place for a criminal to hide than among other criminals. John flipped open the folder again. He had collected the information on Roanapur for two years. It had been a central hub for the drug trades, Gunrunning and prostitution rings for several decades. Roanapur was connected with many major organized crime rings such as the Russian Mafia and the Yakuza Triad. It was a city run by crime, corruption and murder was a daily occurrence and money determined if you were a bum or a King.
John didn't notice the stocky weather-beaten captain as he walked into the breakfast hall with the megaphone.
"Attention crew." All eyes were on the captain including John's as he was eager to finally set foot on solid ground and begin his new life. "I need four volunteers to help me unload an unscheduled shipment." Nobody rose from their seat.
"Really, nobody's willing to haul their fat ass out of their seat to keep their job?"
A voice echoed from out of a crowd. "Look who's talkin' Ricky!"
The hall erupted in laughter and a smirk even formed on the captain's face.
"Fine. You, you, you, and you." A finger landed on John.
He sighed lightly and got up. His pack, which held all of his few possessions, he hefted onto his shoulder.
The salty ocean air was a refreshing change to the musky damp air of the ship. John breathed in the invigorating oxygen as if it were a drug. The other three "volunteers" were already positioned around the box hooking up the crane hook to the top. The job was fairly easy. The only reason the captain needed four people was to control the immense load as it was lowered onto what looked to be a military grade PT boat. John knew what was in the crate. He could smell it from the door. Pure, uncut, 100% Columbian Snow. This wasn't the first time either. Cocaine had been through this ship more than any other product. John wondered how many crewmen had skimmed off the top. John didn't bother thinking about it. Two of the boat's crew were on deck. One was a Japanese man who looked like he belonged in an office building crunching numbers than on a PT boat collecting shady merchandise. The other was a crazy looking girl no older than 25 wearing very little in terms of clothing and a weird tribal tattoo on her right arm. Two identical custom handguns lay in the shoulder holsters. But the most foreboding characteristic was her eyes. Without them she would have looked something near normal, but those eyes. He'd seen them before. Many times. They were the defining detail on only the most hardened, deadly killers. Only those who drowned their morality in blood had eyes as empty and emotionless as that. She seemed to be sulking around while the accountant was jotting something on a clipboard. After several minutes she noticed him, she locked her eyes with his with an unblinking glare. John didn't break the staring contest, but held his gaze. She raised an eyebrow apprehensively. Her glare then narrowed. She leaned over slightly and spat. The wad of phlegm flew from her lips to the concrete before her. No respect. The quick passing of a forklift broke their staring contest suddenly. John took this opportunity to disappear. He took quick pace with the forklift, keeping behind and out of sight. This was not out of any sort of intimidation, but he was not in the mood to be confronted should she gain the confidence John was so sure was there. The job went off without a hitch and afterwards John walked over to the captain.
"Hey, Cap, why drop it off here when they could just pick it up at the port?"
"What?"
"You know, when we get to the port they could have just got it from there."
"Johnny boy, we aren't going to port."
"W-What? B-But you said we were stopping at Roanapur."
"Uh, yeah, but I didn't say we were landing there."
"Ricky, you don't understand, I need to get to that city."
"I'm sorry John but we're turning around as soon as this deal is d—"
"God damn it Rick!"
"Look John just get a ride with them."
The captain stuck his thumb out behind him pointing at the couple picking up the shipment.
"I don't think that would be a good idea." John mumbled.
"Well I can't help you Jonnie, we are already behind schedule and I can't afford another strike on my record."
John heard the sound of a small but fast engine start up overboard. The PT boat was leaving. Time was running out. Rick gave him a grim look and turned to leave.
"Then I'd like to take this opportunity to resign."
A pause. He heard the PT accelerate.
"No need to be so formal. Fine. Sorry to lose you Jonnie but all the same it looks like you won't be getting off 'till at least the end of the we--"
The captain turned around only to find that John wasn't there.
John didn't have time to be discreet. The boat had nearly cleared the length of the tanker. He was soon sprinting inhumanly fast. The concrete ground cracked under his as he pushed off and gained even greater speed. Small details began to blur together and he felt the wind whip by him. He heard the loose straps of his bag whipped against his jeans and his black shirt flattened against his chest. People flashed by while exclaiming remarks of astonishment as he flashed by almost to quick to follow. John got ready to jump as he neared the edge of the deck. He looked over the edge and tracked the boat's movement. Suddenly the boat accelerated significantly and out of human range. Good thing John was John. He sped up to unparalleled speed and took one last look behind him. People were pointing and shouting. John was out of road. The boat was a hundred metres away. John had one choice. He vaulted onto the railing and leapt with considerable strength. He flew over the water catching his reflection in the water Who are you? And aimed for the boat.
"It's like the entire world is making me bust out the super powers." John almost chuckled to himself. He had almost missed the boat but with a small contortion of his body he managed to turn himself back into its path. Ha! Gotchya! John landed with a crash, noting the huge dent he put in the deck.
"No chance of buffing that out."
The wind whipped through John's hair as he rose to his feet. He stood in the painfully noticeable dent with a diameter of around five feet. He turned around to find the tanker drifting in the other direction. The horn blared echoing through the air as if saying goodbye. John gazed long into the distance looking for the Roanapur skyline…Nothing. He would get there soon enough. Now all he had to do was relax until the reached sho--.
The hatch squeaked as the handle began to spin. John didn't have much choice but to make a desperate leap behind some large piping and stay low. He heard the hatch his open and heavy boots clang over steel.
"Ah shit." A low masculine voice was barely audible over the crashing waves.
"What's going on up there, Dutch?" The grouchy female voice was even harder to hear coming from just inside the ship. More boots clanging.
"Dunno what happened, but buffing this out is gonna be a bitch."
As I said"Shit, what the fuck did that. Looks like a goddamn elephant landed on it."
Not quite"Looks like we won't be taking any water-borne contracts for a while."
No shit.
"I still can't see anyway something could have made that."
Boots clanged again and the hatch closed. Just sleep John. You'll be there soon. John closed his eyes and drifted away.
Author's Note: Hope you like the first chapter. Getting back to work on The After Effect too.