Chapter Nine
Beckket led May to his office, then suddenly stopped.
May growled, " Beckket, move on or there'll holes in your head. Let's try not to make this–,"
"How long has it been?" Beckket asked firmly, taking May by surprise.
"What are you talking about?" May pressed the barrel against his neck.
"The last time we met, of course, May. Don't think I didn't recognize you. Though I have to admit it took me a while, it's the first time you don't look malnourished."
"You still a little ass, I see. Tell me, do you ever remove the stick?"
"It's good to know you're happy to see me,"
"The heart or you're a dead man. And it will be a slow death."
"You'd kill me if I gave the heart. I'm sure being digested by the kraken is not a fast passing.
"You try my patience. Give me the heart!"
"I didn't know you had patience, May."
"I'm beginning to rethink asking you where the heart is."
"Why?"
May leaned into his ear and whispered hoarsely, "Dead men are easier to search."
May's cold, wet breath was just the push Beckket needed. He walked to a safe and hurriedly unlocked it. He pulled out a bag and handed to May. She heard a heart beat. She backed into the wall and whispered, "Three years," to Beckket.
She reappeared on the Flying Dutchman's deck and handed the bag to her captain.
"Good work, May," Davy said almost inaudibly
May nodded. It was good to be home.