They have docked on an unknown island. The structures closest to the water had their window shutters closed. Signs taped to shop windows and doors mostly said their storeowners were away on business. However, one well-established sign had its message written in dark-outlined letters, saying, Will be back when the weather is nice. Trespassers will be prosecuted.
It was warm out. The sun was sitting in the sky, full and orange. Not a cloud in sight. It was just the right temperature. Birds cawed from far distances and feathers, all of different color and size, glazed the grass sparkling with dew. The water went with the breeze, making the air salty. It smelt like the ocean and cedar.
Akane leaned forward on the boat railing, waiting for Alexander. Ellie and Sabastian spoke about directions and the world and Alexander's health. They have very parental qualities, which she never noticed before. If not for their diagnosis and care, Alexander wouldn't have been able to salvage the life to sleep through the night. He wasn't dying-sick but he wasn't perfect either. Ellie already said he puked the cherry medicine she force-fed him. She took it for blood and lost her mind.
"Alexander, you're awake!"
Ellie scampered over to him as he ducked out of his cabin, recoiling at the sunlight. His sleeves were stretched to cover his hands and he wore a fleece over it that was a size too big. He also could use a comb through his hair and toothpaste but they had to settle for now.
It was a hassle to get Alexander to talk about himself but when she asked where the ship came from, he admitted to hijacking it. Not saying from where, however.
"How are you feeling?" Akane asked, staring at him as if she expected him to pass out before his next breath.
He didn't. His eyes were heavy and red. His nails tinted blue. He had decent nails for a guy. "I've been better."
"You've looked better," Akane said this as a joke but Alexander didn't react to it. His face was set emotionless.
Alexander ignored her. "We should just go in and grab some food and water–" A calm wind ruffled the water and Alexander winced like he saw blood, dropping his hands in his pockets. "Okay, someone remind me to get gloves. I need."
Ellie faced him, jerking his arm to get him to look at her. "We're not leaving until we find you a doctor. You might not see it but you're sick as a dog."
He passed her a glare but he had no vigor to strengthen it. He looked like a child being denied a toy. "I'm sorry but I don't remember asking for your opinion."
Akane pushed between them over to Sabastian, lifting a hand to his shoulder like they were about to witness a murder. "It's about to get ugly."
"You don't have to. You'll get it either way," she snapped, moving up to his face. He was taller but not by much. "Stop acting so rude and since you're probably not used to hearing people stand up to you, get off your high horse! I'm trying to be nice and help you. If not for us, you wouldn't have woken up this morning or ever again. I'm waiting for my thank you, Alex."
He closed his eyes and breathed, loud, like her words took physical toll on his life. His breath had a slight kiss of smoke. He must've finished his last cigarette. "Thank you."
But he didn't mean it. He didn't sound sincere. As he noticed the shops bombarded with signs and planks of wood nailed to the doors. Arms closed to visitors. Alexander placed his feet on the dock and held himself with the grace of a soldier on-command.
"I'm going to try and look for an open shop. I'm broke, but desperate times call for desperate measures. No one follow me. We'll meet back here before the sun goes down. Okay?" Alexander instructed. Everyone was silent. He raised an eyebrow and a hand to accentuate his point. But his voice was hoarse like he had bronchitis. "Okay?"
Akane smiled and waved him away. "Your wish is our command, Captain Alex."
He rolled his eyes as though she told a bad joke and walked away. They watched him go until Sabastian turned to the girls, breaking the silence with his voice, an eyebrow raised.
"So since our captain has taken leave without us, what should we do?" he asked, lifting his head in a motion to think better.
Akane faced Ellie, smiling like she already had a thought-up plan. "What do you say, Secondary Captain Ellie? We march on your word."
Ellie shrugged. She thought of Marie. She tried to think what Marie would do but the only things that came up were how bad the knife would hurt when Marie plunged it in her. How Marie would smile as she did it and call her a pig, a sewer rat, digging the blade deeper until she couldn't breathe, laughing as she slowly bled to death.
She smiled at them. "Go where the wind takes us?"
Akane grinned. "Good enough."
"Yeah, agreed."
Alexander decided to walk as far as he could to cool off. Obviously, he didn't get very far but he was calmer by the time he reached the hill. A white building with a red-cross on the side squatted beside a rundown shop, plastic blinds in the windows. There were no signs on the doors. The air was both hot and cold, an in-between temperature. He really didn't know what to feel.
He couldn't take a risk with the clinic. Not like he would find anything worth stealing. His stomach snarled and he clutched it, bent over dead flowerbed, feeling like he was going to lose what remained in his system. He doesn't remember eating or drinking anything today or any other day.
There was no sign of existence in animals, plants, humans. At least when he and Ellie boated to their first town together, they met Rosalina, Blake, and Hoshiko. They weren't much but they were still people. This was a ghost town, a graveyard.
The sickness ran out of his blood and he held a hand in his hair. He smelled sea salt and sweat on his clothes. His hands shook in his pockets. The nail of his ring finger was cracked through the middle and he hadn't had the chance to look in the mirror, and would prefer not to. But he did want food. Not salty ramen or lemonade made of sink water or cereal without milk. Real food made of real ingredients and pillows for his room and an omelette for breakfast, golden and crunchy, coated with melted cheese, a side of hash browns–
Alexander walked to the back of the store, looking for a window to break into. He found one that was fairly open, a towel that reached outside hung down to the grass. He pressed his fingers under the break and pulled, feeling like he dislocated his hand. The window opened halfway and he crawled through it, falling inside of the store with a thud.
There was one light, a lamp on the check-out counter. The bulb was flickering like it was fading out but he was able to identify the shelves and a cobweb-stained cash register. It was nicer from the outside like a new house in a bad section of town. Alexander squinted in the dark and felt his way around the store. He saw practically nothing on the shelves. He found only a moldy orange, a box of macaroni and cheese, a plastic barrel of tortilla chips, boxes of instant oatmeal; a canister of sugar, an apple, and a bag of celery.
Alexander sneezed and his nose became puffy. He didn't like being sick. Did anyone? He never got sick. He was healthy, he ate healthy, he showered. Now that he thought about it, he hasn't done much of that. He hasn't kept up with himself. He wore the same clothes and smiled less. He couldn't sleep without a nightmare or doze off during the day.
He grabbed the case of tortilla chips and unscrewed the cap, dropping it on the counter. He devoured a particularly salty chip in one bite and it crumbled into dust on his tongue. He saw how white the sky was, like surgical tape. He clutched what food he had and squinted at it. It rained white spheres, silver and clustered.
It was snowing.
Alexander dug into his memories and tried to remember the last time it snowed in Shellsound. It was rare in such a normally bright place. But he remembered.
A month before his second sister was born, it did. He was six or seven. Lauren and her parents came by to visit. Elijah had allergies and had been drifting around the house like a virus, clogging his nose with tissues. Lauren was in a white coat and had her hair knotted into mini buns. Misty, his mother, was chasing after her first daughter with a big belly. The grownups talked about business and he, Lauren, and Elijah went outside. They ate sugar cookies and apple pie until the night poured in.
That summer, Lauren cried until she was driven to sleep. Her mother was found by the housekeeper with her throat slashed. There were no witnesses or fingerprints. Days and months passed and Lauren started smiling again. But she was never the same. She became like Elijah in some ways, a skeleton of someone else. He couldn't blame her though. Her mother was a martyr and her father's a lunatic. Lauren was something in-between.
Winters brought warmer hearts and better memories.
He always liked the snow better.
"Emmett, what is love?"
Emmett breathed smoke in Marie's face. They were on the porch to his house. His parents never let him smoke inside–or even in the bathroom–because it made the whole house stink. If a peace officer were to investigate, the whole family would be arrested and shipped to the island labs for evaluation. The people that have been brought back home were already dead, starved to bones or with a bullet in their head. It was never not gruesome.
"Who the fuck knows, Marie?" he asked, sliding closer. His hand was cold as it slid to her thigh. "What we got is love. That's all I know." He held his cigarette to her, rolled with something toxic. It smelled good but it made her sleepy and lazy. She didn't look fourteen. "Take another hit. It's good for you."
Marie looked away and traced a heart on the baseboards. "No, Em. I can't…I just can't. Donnie will be so mad."
"Who cares about him? He's not even your brother. I don't get why he's up your ass all the time."
"Don't judge him. He's a good brother. He only wants what's best for me."
Emmett came too close to her face. She whimpered and fell back on the floorboards, shaking, as he towered over her like a killer. His face and eyes were dark. The cigarette was in her face and it looked like a terrible, dangerous thing. She felt wrong. She was a terrible person.
Marie made a timid sound before shaking her head, determined, like she knew what was best. "No."
He took his cigarette, licked the side, and climbed over her. Her arms were locked under him and all she could do was watch. His knee cracked into her ribs and she screamed because she could. He called her a bitch and told her to be quiet, wrestling a hand over her mouth.
When she bit his hand to release her voice, he stubbed his cigarette on her tongue.
She didn't have to scream anymore. Love wasn't like this.
Ellie gasped and caught the attention of her shipmates. Akane raised an eyebrow and Sabastian tilted his head at her. They were quiet, waiting for her answer. She didn't. Marie's past could haunt her until she died and no one would understand. If she told them about Marie, they would think of her as crazy.
Not that she already was. She did value their opinions. She valued everyone's opinion. There's so much not right with her and to hear someone's opinion, especially considering Marie's memories, would mean the world to her.
"It's nothing," Ellie said, scrutinizing the houses and stores from the deck. It was snowing. White painted over the grass. It wasn't a total snowstorm but the weather was at its best. "I wonder how Alexander's doing. He's been gone long."
Akane nodded and turned to the sky. It was darker and grayer. The sun was further and less bright. "It's almost sundown. The guy better have found something good for taking long."
Sabastian raised an eyebrow. "Should we go looking for him? I mean, we haven't heard from him for hours."
Ellie wanted to agree. They should've gone with him but he insisted on being alone. She shouldn't have been so aggressive with him. He was on the verge of pneumonia and they let him meander off into a ghost town. His voice was croaky and he had sick breath last time she saw him.
He could've collapsed and they would never know. Right now, he could be face-down in the snow, a blanket of ice covering his shoulders. Eyelashes clotted with frost, nails bluer than fountain water.
"Maybe we should go look for him." Ellie suggested, her mind giving her the image that Alexander was already blue-faced and unconscious from the cold. "It isn't like him to be this late."
Sabastian faced her. "He could've stumbled upon a doctor and went to get himself checked out."
Akane didn't even contemplate it. "Do you really think he'd do that? He went off on us earlier, saying that he wasn't sick. He'd be eating his words if he actually ran to find a doctor. Even though he wasn't super nice to us this morning, I'm a little worried."
"I second that," Ellie nodded, looking at her through the corner of her eye.
"Then why don't we just go look for him already?" Sabastian asked, raising an eyebrow. "We're not really doing much here."
Ellie sighed. She didn't know how to decide. "I say, we wait a while longer before we go looking for him."
Dimples ringed Akane's smile. "Ay, ay, Captain!"
But when the moon, huge and golden, appeared and four hours passed, Alexander still wasn't back.
"Why is it th-this cold?" Alexander asked himself. His hands and knees were shaking while he dragged his feet through the snow. It reached his ankles and gray slush oozed into his socks as he walked. His eyes were puffy and heavy, his nose was red and stuffy. "It was s-s-so…nice before. I need food and sleep, long sleep."
The sky was purple and the moon was golden, the world's personal flashlight. Snowflakes swirled into his face and into his eyes, diverting him. Alexander stumbled and held his hands out under him to balance himself. He looked ahead and saw that the houses had light, lamps behind curtains.
He couldn't see the ship from where he was and confusion swamped him.
They wouldn't have left without him. He relied on them and they relied on him. They needed each other.
He still hadn't found decent food. The food from the store was decent but it wouldn't last them. His stomach rumbled as a remembrance.
Alexander thought about the mental facility his father once lived in. They had terrible food–apple juice in plastic containers, tasteless oatmeal, quesadillas baked with melted cheese and raw meat. At the time, his father would lick his plate clean and beg for his seconds but he would snack on the prepackaged cookies in the vending machine. At the time, he would've rather ate his own hand.
"Why is this happening?" he swore, lifting a hand over his eyes. He was approaching the medical building with the red-cross. It was so close and he was so far. He pleaded to God through his mind, begging Him to lessen the cold and help get food in his stomach.
He's greedy and selfish but he doesn't care. He deserves these things.
Alexander squinted and acknowledged the clinic. He was steps away from the door. The lights were startling and he sniffed the air, searching for familiarity, but he remembered his clogged nose and felt disgusted with himself.
His foot caught on something, chipped sidewalk or upturned grass, and he staggered face-first into the snow. It bled into his teeth and inside his shirt, scalding his skin like hot oil. Alexander fumbled around in the snow, catching it between his fingers and in his nails. He was trying to stand but his body was numb. He couldn't lift himself. He couldn't move.
He closed his fists under him and received little warmth. Black spots filled his vision and he raised a hand to swat them away. They were persistent, lingering, like a moth to a flame.
Staring at the moon, his never-forgotten memories flooded him. Learning how to swim in the family pool and going under for the first time. His mother's face when he said he'd rather live with his father. Lauren's tears when he mentioned her mother and Elijah's fist connecting with his nose, breaking it, the next day. The last Christmas with his father, how tiny his second sister was when she was born. The crack Elijah's hand made when he punched a window. They were memories, good and bad. They made him who he was.
He was important.
Alexander closed his eyes and darkness swept over him, a door closing over a hard life.
"Doctor, we have a problem!"
Jefferson turned away from his potions and tilted his monocle at her. His medical assistant, Caroline, panted heavily from the door, holding her chest. Her voice was urgent and terrified.
"What is it, Caroline?" he asked, climbing out of his chair. The air was stained with smoke from another failed experiment.
"There's…a…boy…outside, unconscious, weak pulse. I couldn't lift him myself. He is so pale and cold." Caroline explained, tying her sandy blonde hair back into a crooked ponytail with elastic. "You have to help him before he…he–"
Jefferson nodded. "I'm on it."
He followed her out the door and she started off running into the snow. The weather was terrible, another side-effect of Lord Macao's ever-changing emotions. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he watched as Caroline knelt beside a body. Jefferson rushed to their side, dropping to his knees.
It was a boy. He was blonde and covered in snow. His face was an eerie white and he briefly wondered how long he'd been out in this horrid weather. His eyes were open, the whites of them cracked red, but he wasn't conscious. His breathing was light, a whisper. Jefferson checked his wrists, neck, and forehead.
The boy was limp and his forehead was burning.
There ends today's chapter. I'm officially on Spring Break and my motivation for today was the readers–and an amazing peanut butter milkshake.
I actually slacked off on this chapter a little. I didn't think I'd finish it today but I started reading through the character applications I received and developed a lot of ideas. I actually forgot how big the crew is and when I counted everyone…well, this was my face: O.O
And I started watching One Piece again. I just passed Ace's death and Luffy's brotherhood with Ace and Sabo–which broke my heart and inspired me–so beware, readers.
Ignore my rant though. Enjoy the chapter!
