018.


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.*・。. EFF IT! .*・。.
————THE FORBIDDEN ZONE
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018.
TAINTED HEARTS.
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The only treasure hunts Sonny had ever done were the ones on the back of cereal boxes.

You know, the little puzzle and shit?

Sonny had done a whole lot of those in foster care, when she had nothing better to do. But other than that, her actual treasure hunting experience was pretty minimal. After all, it wasn't like hidden treasures presented themselves every day. Where else were you supposed to get that experience? There was no treasure hunter option at career fairs. Not that she had ever seen, anyways.

   So, considering their rookie level, Sonny was surprised that they made it back to John B's place all in one piece and with their hidden treasure in hand. Well, the first bit of it anyway. Maybe even the best bit.

    "Gross, JJ."

   The blonde shrugged, "What?"

   Pope brushed past the boy with a frown, "That bread had mould on it, three days ago."

"I'll just pull off the bad parts," JJ decided, hearing Pope's sigh as he made for the table. He continued to spread it with one thick layer of peanut butter, hiding any of the blue fluff.

   He'd eaten worse.

Sonny stopped by him on her way to the table, grimacing. She wondered if he was actually going to eat that. Maybe it was the first thing he'd eaten in hours.

   Then again, Sonny hadn't eaten in hours either— but you didn't see her picking the mould off old bread. Sonny didn't know if that was her privilege speaking or if she just hadn't the stomach to do it, no matter how hungry she was. It had chills coating her skin.

"Plus— mould is totally good for you, dude." JJ threw his knife down, "It's a natural organism."

   That definitely wasn't right.

After thinking back to the science classes she actually tried to listen to, Sonny wrinkled her nose and made for the table, hovering over John B as he stared at the envelope Kiara had found. It had BIRD scribbled on the front in black pen. The block lettering stood out on the white background, and for a moment, Sonny couldn't look away.

   BIRD. She wondered what it could have meant.

"JJ!" Kiara called.

"Yup, yup, yup—!" He danced his way over, sandwich in hand. "Hot damn! Let's do it!"

John B sucked in a sharp breath and pushed his hand into the envelope at the same time as JJ bit his sandwich, gagging when the bread met his tongue. He spat it into his palm and rushed to the bin, whimpering.

Sonny took a stick of gum from her pocket.

"Oi— mildew," she nicknamed when he returned, tossing the gum at him. He caught it with scrambled hands and put the stick between his lips.

"Thank fuck..." he exhaled.

With an eye roll, Sonny's attention went back to John B as he slipped a map from the envelope, spreading it out on the table so they could all lean in and look at it. After a moment or two of observing the markings, John B ran a hand over it and stopped his finger above a set of coordinates, his mouth twitching up to the side.

   Sonny eyed him carefully, unsure of how to react because holy fuck! Did this actually mean...?

"X marks the spot," Pope spoke in a gulp.

   They nodded.

"Longitude, latitude..." John B said.

   He went back to the envelope, freezing when he felt that something hard was still inside. John B frowned, "Wait— I think there's something else in here," he told them, quickly.

He reached back inside and pulled out an old black tape recorder, turning it over it in his hands. While everyone else shared looks of surprise, Sonny felt her heart sink. Usually tape recorders held messages, which was what had wanted, but something about it had Sonny's legs turning numb. She didn't know why, but it didn't feel right — like whatever the message that tape had, it might not be the one John B really wanted to hear right now.

"What's that?" JJ asked him.

Kiara blinked, "It's a tape recorder, dumbass."

After a tense moment, John B allowed his fingers to graze the buttons. He pressed PLAY and sucked in a sharp breath when he heard s voice in the static.

   For him, it was unmistakable.

"Dear, Bird..."

"Who's Bird?" JJ asked.

"That's what my dad called me," John B whispered. The room grew quiet, and he was unable to pull his eyes off the tape recorder — too entranced, too stunned. It was the first time hearing his dad's voice in a year.

Sonny couldn't bring herself to look at it, though. Even if this was meant to be a good moment. Because finally John B had something to cling to, a beacon of hope in the fog, and something about that worried her. She wondered if he felt it too, the same weight in his chest. It was heavy. And, even as the realist she was, she hoped not.

Because if he did, that meant he already knew.

   He was just awaiting the inevitable.

    "I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so." His father's voice said through the speaker.

   Sonny rubbed at her face. John B's dad left him a message, pre-recorded it and everything, before vanishing. Why? Why he done that? Why wasn't he here?

Deep down, Sonny knew why. Why he wasn't there, telling his son whatever he had to say himself. Why he had sent the boy on that wild goose chase.

    "And you doubted your old man, huh?"

   Sonny's jaw clenched.

    "I suspect at this moment, you're filled with guilt and self-loathing over our last fight — but don't kill yourself just yet, kid. I didn't really expect to find the Merchant, either."

They all shared looks, dumbfounded, but John B couldn't bring himself to look away from the tape recorder. He held it tightly in his sweaty palms, scared to let it go, not knowing if letting go would make this worse.

"You were probably right to call me out... I wasn't exactly Father of the Decade. What can I say, kid? I could smell the barn. And hopefully, we're listenin' to this in our brand new sugar-shack down in Costa Rica, livin' off passive investments and pulling on permits."

   Sonny felt her hands start to shake. She pushed them into the pockets of her shorts and tried to steel her face, keep her shit together, because she had to. Because she knew what was going to happen now, what came next. And she knew that it would tear John B into a million pieces. Shards of glass he'd never be able to mend. Fuck. She prayed that she was wrong. For his sake, she wanted to be wrong.

   Because she had been there.

   She hated what came next.

"If not and you find this in less than optimal reasons, well... that's what the map is for."

His words cemented it. They embedded it all in concrete and sealed it in like the tomb he'd left the message in. That was enough for John B dig, cracking the surface, forming a pothole for him to sink into. He could stay there if he liked how the darkness felt.

"There she is, the wreck of the Merchant."

The markings made sense now.

"So if somethin' happens to me, you finish what I started, go for the gold, kid." John B's hands began to shake, "I love you, Bird. Even if I didn't always act like it. Guess I'll be seeing you on the other side."

And that was it.

The recording stopped and a silence smothered them, one where no one dared move. Not until John B did; not until he stood up, spoke, blinked, anything. It was like all life had been sucked out of them, until JJ got it back.

"Holy shit... he did it!"

That seemed to revive John B. No— revive was the wrong word to use. Could you revive someone whose soul had just died? Crushed in the palms of their late father's hands? Not anything but dust, left to float in the salty breeze? No, revive was definitely the wrong word. This kind of death wasn't the kind you could try to resurrect. John B was dead now. Dead on the inside, dead to the world. And now the boy had to be buried, because that was the only option. John B couldn't be brought back to life — not that part of him, anyway. Sonny knew how it went.

She knew it painfully well.

So well, that she could feel it now— as John B staggered up from the table and wretched, bile at the back of his throat, as he made for the open door, trying to suck in air.

   He needed to breathe, but could he? Could John B ever breathe again? Was there even enough oxygen on this planet to keep his heart from giving out? He didn't feel like it. Even outside, the gusts of wind that wafted in through the door, the air felt stuffy, clogged with grief and misery. The salt didn't open his lungs like it usually did, it wasn't enough. He wasn't sure that it would ever be enough. Not now, not tomorrow. Not in a week or a month or a year.

   The air was tainted, the beach was tainted, the house was tainted and the barely-there heart in his chest was tainted; it was all touched by his father, now it was touched by death. It was completely ruined, every inch.

"Big John—" JJ pieced together the puzzle. He had always been more of a verbal thinker, "He found the Merchant— he found it! He—"

A sob wracked through John B's chest. Then another and another, then so many that cries couldn't be distinguished in comparison to his words, or breaths, or pleas for his dad that echoed in the dark night.

"Can you—" Kiara hissed, "Can you please?"

JJ's heart dropped, "Sorry..."

Sonny felt her nose tingle, eyes burning.

   She watched John B waver on shaky legs, feeling his pain envelop her heart and squeeze. It hurt, and ached, and hurt.

Without another coherent thought, Sonny pushed her way towards the door and threw her arms around him, wrapping him tightly from behind. With her front pressed into his back, Sonny felt his body jolt right through her, the pain paralysing him stiff and unmoving.

Sonny didn't know John B well.

   She knew he was a kid from the Cut, that he'd worked for Ward Cameron, that his father did die a year ago. She knew that he walked by her home to speak to her parents when he made his way to work, that his uncle ran to the mainland so he didn't have to look after a teenager, and that DCS couldn't quit sticking their nose in and threatening to bring him back to the mainland.

   Maybe she didn't know his favourite colour, or the way he took his coffee, or the toppings he put on pizzas. Sonny had no idea if John B always sang the same songs in the shower, nor how he had met the Pogues.

   Really, Sonny knew nothing about him.

   But she knew enough.

   She figured grief could connect people in funny ways. It bridged a gap, brought you close.

   Sonny knew grief. And, in that moment, she knew John B, better than he thought anyone ever could. That's what made him turn into her hold, head falling against her shoulder, his tears trickling onto her neck. John B clung to Sonny the way he had clung to that tape; like she was the one thing that was holding him together, like she was his friend, like she was his family. He held her close.

    "It's okay..." she whispered, unsure of what else she could say. It felt like a lie. "It's okay..."

   When her voice wavered, she fell silent.

   Don't cry, she willed herself, keep your shit together. Sonny held his shirt just as tightly as he gripped hers, biting at her lower lip and squeezing her eyes shut.

   A pair of arms appeared on John B's other side, and Kiara took a hold of Sonny's hand, interlocking their fingers as they held the boy between them. She wasn't sure if it was for John B or for her, but she didn't care. She didn't even look at Kiara as they kept the boy together, reluctant to let go in fear he fell apart at the seams. The two girls held John B for a long while, just standing there together. But it felt worth it. Regardless of how long it lasted for.

    "It's okay, bird..." Sonny whispered, "We got you."

   It was worth it for John B.

————

    "How much was it again?"

    "Four hundred mil," Kiara recited.

   They all sighed.

Four hundred million. It sounded crazy, had anyone ever seen that much cash before? Like, ever?

Because they were about to. The group of shifty teenagers from the south side and two Kook rejects. They knew where the remains of the Royal Merchant were, which meant they knew where the lost money was too.

   Sonny almost laughed, because what the fuck.

   Who knew a deadman's boat in the marsh would've lead them to this? Hidden treasures? A literal gold mine? Sonny's head would start to spin if she thought about it for too long.

"Four hundred," JJ echoed dreamily.

   When Sonny and Kiara had held John B to a point where tears no longer fell, their group had moved to the patio with beers in hand. They'd circled around the fire pit, basking in the warm glow that prickled their skin. No one exactly knew what to say, so they didn't speak for a while. Didn't force any words. Rather, they listened to Kiara strum at her ukulele in this calm, lulling sort of tune. It was magical, healing, and the red splotches slowly faded from John B's face. His sniffles got quieter to a point where he could breathe, and he nursed his beer with his eyes shut.

"Alright, let's talk the split."

Sonny looked at JJ, her brows arched.

He cleared his throat, sitting straighter. "Now— before we say evenly, may I remind you that I am the only one that can properly defend us from those groupers who were after us?"

He waved the gun in the air.

"Put that away."

"Stop it."

"What?" He asked when they all pulled faces, apart from John B, who still stared out at the docks. "Protection? That's not exactly cheap— okay?"

"You haven't trained," Pope pointed out, eyes narrowed. "You've done zero training, JJ—"

"YouTube, bro!" JJ scoffed, acting like it was easy to get to grips with a gun via the internet— which, maybe it was. She wouldn't know but the internet was a weird place, something told Sonny that if JJ Maybank wanted to learn how to use a gun, the internet was the place to start. "That's at least a five percent bump, right there!"

"You haven't—"

"Any objections? Didn't think so!"

Kiara waved a hand in the air, but JJ ignored it.

"Yeah, I don't hear any, so..."

"How about we hold off on that five percent until you get access to the internet," Sonny drawled out, "Storm wiped you clean, Keanu. Agatha made you her bitch."

Light chuckles came from Kiara and Pope while JJ sent a look her way that screamed stop shitting on my parade. She just rolled her eyes and took a sip of her beer, peering at the boy from across the fire with some vague amusement dancing in her eyes. His face glowed with the light from the flames. He was a bit grubby, and he needed a shower, but so did Sonny. They all did, actually.

"What are you gonna do with your eighty mil, Pope?" It was Kiara who asked the question. She replaced her trusty ukulele with another beer.

Sonny looked at him, interested.

"Pay for college in advance," he decided after a second's thought. "And also, textbooks. Those are pretty expensive."

Kiara pulled a face.

She could see why Pope would spend his part of the gold that way, on textbooks of all things, but she didn't think the idea was super fantastic or anything. But he could spend his money on whatever he liked.

Sonny agreed. All the power to Pope Heyward.

"What about you, Kie?" JJ asked.

"Yeah," Pope nodded along, looking at her, "What does a socialist do when she's rich?"

She shrugged, smiling coyly. Kiara, like Sonny, already had decent money. Not as much as the Penbrook's, but enough to live super comfortably, enough for her family to be Kooks. It didn't matter though. Even when you had the money, eighty million was a really nice thought.

"Just wanna make a double album," she bit her lip, "You know, about OBX, the Pogues. The way Catch a Fire is about Kingston and all that," the others nodded on. "Record it at Marley Studio, Peter Tosh producing..."

"Peter Tosh is—"

"Peter Tosh is dead, I know." Kiara raised her drink in the air, "But the Spirit of Peter Tosh will never die."

"I know what I'll do," JJ announced.

    "Enlighten us," Sonny said.

    "Listen here, princess." He smirked at her, eager. Like he yearned for her approval. "I'm gonna get a big ass house on Figure 8 and go full Kook."

Sonny quirked a brow, "Full Kook?"

"Yup!" He popped the p.

It surprised her. She never thought a kid like JJ would ever dream of going full Kook. Not when he hated them, so much. But then again, she had never thought much about what kids like JJ, Pope and John B dreamt about, it just never occurred to her before now.

"Gonna get a marble statue of myself and then I'm gonna get a koi pond," JJ grinned. "Put a bunch of those fish—"

Kiara snickered, "I'm never visiting you."

Something told Sonny that it was a lie. That JJ didn't really want any of that shit at all. Maybe the big house, but not the statue, the koi pond. She had a feeling it was all for show, an easy way to cover up what he really wanted deep down. She wondered if what he wanted wasn't worth eighty million, or any amount of money at all. Sonny wasn't totally certain but she just had a funny feeling.

"What are you gonna do, JB?"

They all turned to look at him, eyes wondering.

It took a moment, and a whole lot of strength, but John B tilted his head to meet their stares.

His face was blank, for a short while. It was worrying, and the group were concerned that maybe he'd fully shut off, but then his lips twitched at the corner and he raised his beer in the air. He nodded once.

"To going full Kook," he said.

"To going full Kook!"

They smiled, downing what was left in their beers, and sat there in comfortable silence. Nobody realised they had yet to
ask the newest addition to their group, until Sonny felt a set of eyes on her from across the fire. She quirked a brow at JJ; and, as always, he looked way too smug for anything good to come out of his mouth.

"Princess," he got everyone's attention, then.

    "We all said what we'd do with fuck tons of cash. But what about you? How does the mightiest of Kooks spend her profit, when she already has fuck tons of cash waiting for her back at home?" He asked in one breath.

As if worried his words might have stung, Pope, Kiara and John B shot JJ nasty looks. But, surprisingly, Sonny shrugged.

"I dunno," Sonny sucked in her cheeks, thinking. "I guess I haven't thought about it..."

"Koi pond?"

"Maybe," she rolled her eyes.

   A hum passed her lips and she tilted her head back to look at the starry night sky, just thinking. "Maybe I'll just save it for someone who needs it. We already have money. S'not like it'll have much use other than sitting in a bank, not unless I invest it or some shit."

"Oh— to be rich..." John B hummed, gently.

Brows cinched, Pope asked, "Like, donate to charity?"

"Sort of, yeah..." She turned back to the fire pit, "Or, just someone who doesn't have it, give 'em the life I never really wanted. I sure as hell don't use it,"

She toyed with the top of her beer can, shrugging slowly, totally unsure herself.

   The Pogues listened closely. It was a different take on the money than they had, and maybe not what they'd expected from a Kook. Though, there it was again. Kook. No, Sonny wasn't like the rest. Sonny had never been like other Kooks, that was becoming clearer each day.

    Give 'em the life I never really wanted.

   Maybe Sonny really didn't belong in Figure 8, with all the assholes and the money and the status. Her place wasn't with Topper Thornton, Sarah and Rafe Cameron. Sonny's place might've been here: sitting right where she was, in front of a fire pit on the Cut with four ragtag, misfit south side kids, all who vaguely resembled the mystery gang. Perhaps this was it for Sonny. This was finally her.

Perhaps Sonny was finally finding her peace.

"Maybe you should go full Pogue," JJ suggested.

Her lips puckered as she mulled it over. Each of them hid their smiles. Full Pogue.

After a moment, Sonny nodded.

    "Maybe I'll go full Pogue."




━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━

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