I bet you thought you knew what was going on, huh? You kinda had the plot figured out. You sorta knew where this was going...NOT ANYMORE!
Please leave me a review! I'd love to know what you think. Don't guess at the ending, though. You'll never know what's going to happen.
For Bryce and Daniel and Kevin. But mostly Bryce, my dearest friend and most dedicated reader.
Guinevere glanced up from her textbook, her eyes scanning the green for what felt like the millionth time, unsure of exactly why she was doing so. When she did it again a few minutes later, she realized what was wrong. "Wait a second, where's Peter?"
"No idea," Bryce shrugged. "I haven't seen Erika around either and she said she'd meet us here today."
"Don't they have Archaeology 101 together?" Kevin asked; his eyes were still glued to his notes about Greek Mythology. He had to memorize the pantheon for his next quiz and he hadn't been adding much to Gwen and Bryce's discussion of medieval literature.
"You're right, they do," Bryce exclaimed. "But whatever, maybe it got out late."
"Bryce, love, classes ended half an hour ago," Kevin stated in his most condescending voice. "They should be here by now."
"I'll go find them," Bryce offered, moving to stand. "I need to stretch my legs anyway."
"Alright, I'll finish these notes," Gwen agreed. "And we can compare them later."
"Sounds good," Bryce said. He stood, stretched, and lumbered off in the direction of the Science building. Kevin looked up at Guinevere and smirked.
"You and Peter are getting along well, huh?"
"Well yes. Our date was really nice last week," Gwen smiled. "I enjoy his company very much."
"Seems like Erika does, too," Kevin mused, "But I'm sure she's no threat to the Lady Guinevere. Peter has big blue eyes only for you. You should see some of the poetry he writes and then hides in the bottom of his bedside table drawer. Bryce has showed me and it's absolutely terrible."
"Oh dear," Gwen blushed, "That sounds…very odd, actually. Peter doesn't seem much like a poetry writer."
"It's horrible, I promise," Kevin winked. He went back to his pantheon and Gwen returned to her notes on how chivalry influenced the structure of medieval courts and how it was connected to modern romance. It hadn't been fifteen minutes before Bryce returned, his head hung low and his walk more lumbering and sad than usual.
"What ails you, lad?" Guinevere asked jokingly, jogging his arm with her elbow when he took his seat next to her.
"Peter and Erika were looking pretty friendly when I found them," Bryce sighed, "I bet she likes him."
"I thought you two went on a rather splendid date the other night," Gwen said.
"We did, but I guess it wasn't as splendid for her as I initially thought," Bryce huffed. "She was practically wrapped around Peter's arm, but she jumped back when she saw me coming. He seemed uncomfortable, though, Gwen, so there's nothing for you to worry about."
"Yeah and he doesn't often fight back, he just looks really agitated when someone or something bothers him," Kevin added. "So there you go."
"Yeah I've noticed that. Is he coming?" Guinevere inquired. Bryce shrugged noncommittally.
"I don't know. He said something but I was too distracted and didn't pay attention to what he was explaining," Bryce admitted.
"Whatever. If he shows, he shows. If he doesn't, he doesn't," Kevin mumbled. His eyes fell back to his notebook and Bryce and Gwen began their discussion of Gwen's notes, with Bryce changing and adding to his own while they talked. Before they knew it, the study period was up and they had orchestra practice before dinner.
The trio walked down the hallway towards the orchestra room, Guinevere in the lead. They passed Erika as they approached, which they found odd since she wasn't studying an instrument, and found Peter already inside tuning his violin. "Did you spend the whole free hour with her?" Kevin asked, raising a curious eyebrow. Kevin gauged Guinevere's reaction when Peter nodded, understanding her look of blatant confusion.
"We accidentally got into a long-winded debate about some French ruins we're studying in Archaeology and we ended up going to the library to find a source to settle it," he chuckled nervously. "Sorry, Gwen."
Kevin was relieved when her confused expression was replaced with a large smile and an understanding eye roll.
"No big deal, it's not like you were making out in the stacks. Or what is it you guys call it? Snogging?" Gwen laughed. "As long as you weren't doing that."
"I most definitely wasn't," Peter smiled. Gwen got her instrument out and took her seat, beginning to tune and practice the short warm-up scales with Peter. Bryce headed for the percussion section with Kevin, looking mightily relieved himself that Erika and Peter had not indeed been snogging in the stacks.
Britney wandered in and took her seat in the viola section, waving and smiling at Gwen on her way. Gwen smiled back, her hands still occupied by the violin. When at last all the students were seated, warmed up, and waiting, the room remained empty. Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen, with no sign of Mr. Painter ever arriving. "Someone should call down to the administration building and see if he left a note with the dean," Peter suggested.
"You do it," one of the cellists piped. Peter shrugged.
"Alright."
He crossed the classroom and dialed the number for the dean of the music program, waiting patiently until the secretary picked up. "Hello, yes? This is Peter. Peter Gardern. I'm sorry, but the entire orchestra has showed up for a scheduled rehearsal today and our teacher seems to be missing with no explanation. Did Mr. Painter leave a note or some form of instruction or say that he would be late?" At this point there was a very long pause. Peter nodded before speaking again, "Thank you. Alright. Goodbye."
"Well? What is going on?" the same cellist spoke up. "Where's Mr. Painter?"
"They don't know. We were his only class today and they haven't heard from him. The secretary said the dean instructed her to release us for the afternoon and that rehearsal was canceled," Peter explained. "This sucks."
"Not for me," the cellist said, standing, "I have papers to write."
The room was full of confused and worried murmurs as to the whereabouts of the teacher as the students packed up their instruments and left the music building in a tiny wave. Kevin caught up with Peter and Gwen, while Bryce and Britney and Stephanie headed for the green. "Where are you two lovebirds off to?" Kevin asked.
"We're both concerned and want to try and locate Mr. Painter," Peter explained. Gwen nodded eagerly and tugged at Peter's jacket sleeve.
"Speaking of, I'd like to get a move on," Guinevere stated, eyebrows raised in impatience. Kevin and Peter nodded to each other before taking off in different directions. "His apartment is right on the edge of campus."
"How do you know?" Peter asked.
"Mr. Painter invited me over for tea after rehearsal once," Gwen explained, "He said he wanted to talk about America but we mostly ended up talking about books after he caught me staring at his first-edition copy of Moby Dick."
"Ah, that explains it," Peter rolled his eyes, "You literature nerds sure seem to get along well."
"Yeah, literature and music," Gwen smiled. "And you're not that different. You Archaeology majors are all dirt fiends."
"It's not the dirt!" Peter protested, "It's the stuff buried in the dirt that we find so absolutely fascinating!"
"Worms, dirt, whatever," Gwen teased. Peter laughed, looking up and around.
"So where is his apartment?"
"It's on the first floor of this building," Guinevere said, approaching a historic brick townhouse. The old house had been converted into several small apartments, each with a theme. Mr. Painter had been delighted to show her around his 'hairt's fairst love, Regency England'. She knocked on the door of the building and waited for the smiling security guard to let her in. She led Peter down the hall to the second room on the right before stopping abruptly and politely tapping on the shining wooden door. No reply.
"He hasn't been in all day," the security lady piped from her chair near the door. "Nobody's seen him coming or going."
"Can I get in? He didn't show up to teach his only class today and we're very worried about him," Gwen begged. "Please?"
"I'm not supposed to let students into teachers' flats, but since that's not like Mr. Painter at all and he is rather old…" the security woman trailed of, pulling a key from her ring and sliding it into the door. The lock clicked and the door swung open. Guinevere thanked her two more times before following Peter into the apartment. She stopped mid-step and looked around, her jaw dropping in horror at what she saw.
The chairs were smashed, their splintered remains strewing the floor by the upended dinner table, which was cracked down the center. The bookcase was on its side with its contents spread across the living room, over and under the ripped floral-patterned rug. The lamp was smashed and the television screen had several holes in it with cracks spider-webbing out. Dishes were smashed and glass covered the tiled kitchen floor. What really got Gwen's attention (for some reason that she couldn't understand) was that every single clock was demolished, the gears covering the rug by the fake fireplace. Even the digital kitchen clocks had holes through them, rendering them useless and illegible."Oh god," Gwen cried, her breath hitching in her throat. "Oh no."
"Get help!" Peter called down the hallway to the woman. She went for her walkie-talkie while Peter and Gwen tiptoed through the wreckage.
"Mr. Painter?" Guinevere called. "Mr. Painter?"
Nothing. The sound Gwen's quiet crying filled the tiny apartment. Peter put a careful arm around Gwen's shaking shoulders, letting her cry into his shoulder. "Maybe he made it out okay."
"But if he didn't?" Gwen sniffed.
"It's going to be okay, Lady Guinevere. Let the police sort it out," Peter offered, escorting her out of the building and back into the light of day. The police arrived moments later, demanding interviews with both of them as well as the security lady, whose name they never learned. When they gave their statements and the police understood that Gwen was terrified and Peter was exhausted, they let the two teens return to the dorm with no further questioning.
"Want me to stay the night?" Peter asked, rubbing Gwen's shoulder.
"Yeah, that would be nice," she nodded. "I appreciate it."
On the green, Erika's phone rang, interrupting her conversation with Bryce. She glanced down at the screen and hurriedly picked it up, "Hello?" she gave Bryce an apologetic look before standing and rushing a safe distance away from the group to a nearby cluster of trees where she wouldn't be heard. "What's wrong?"
"I've made a horrible mistake," the low voice replied. "The original plan is totally ruined. There's someone on this campus that may be a problem."
"Who?" Erika asked. "I can handle them, sir."
"You don't understand who you're dealing with. He has nearly as much power as the boy! Causing him grief or threatening him may prove dangerous if not deadly and completely destroy our hopes of returning home with the Artifact. You must beware this man," the voice instructed. Erika could tell that her companion was frightened, which unnerved her even further because he was one of the bravest men she had ever met.
"I don't even know who this man is," Erika huffed. "How am I supposed to avoid him if I don't know who he is?"
"He is a very recognizable man, Erika," the man snarled. "I knew him well, once. You did too, though you were just a child."
"Listen, sir, that's all well and good and I know I should avoid whoever this is but who is he?" Erika demanded. "I can't just pull a mysterious face from childhood memories."
"He is a dark man, my dear. A murderer, a thief, a pirate, and worst of all, one of the smartest and most cunning men I've ever served under. If there was anyone who could ruin our plans," her friend paused, taking a shuddering breath and exhaling nervously. Why would he be so afraid to state the man's name aloud? Could it be… could it really be? "It would be Captain James Hook."