Chapter fourteen - I fell for you (literally)

spooky macaroni

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We arrived at Plemont earlier than anticipated. I was fucked.

Captain Bryar waited patiently at the top of the stairs to observe my practice with Gerard down on deck. I sat in uncomfortable silence on the bench, waiting for Gerard to peel himself out of Ryan's bunk and join us.

The captain was a very enduring, tolerant man, but it had been over an hour, and this was trying his patience. He wore a perfect mask of boredom to cover up the frustration I could tell he was attempting to conceal, from the way the he drummed his fingers incessantly on the banister, and every so often, thumbed at the pistol on his belt.

Swiftly, and with a wave of his hand, the captain ordered me to go and fetch Gerard. I obliged immediately; I was impatient to begin and that need was only reinforced by the fact that Captain Bryar could shoot me whenever he wanted if things didn't go his way. I hoped he'd be a reasonable man and not blame Gerard's lazy apathy on me.

To my surprise, Gerard was not in Ryan's bunk. I had to wander about the ship for several minutes before I found him in James and my quarters, poking around.

"What on earth are you doing in here?" I demanded. "The captain's been waiting for over an hour."

Gerard looked like a deer having been caught halfway through the chase, eyes wide and back hunched. He said something unintelligible, then shook his head. "Never mind, I was just-"

"Look, I don't care," I rushed out, "Just hurry up. Don't you want to drink again?"

Gerard nodded emphatically.

"Then get up on deck and let me tread on you."

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The captain was relatively impressed with my acquired skills, and murmured to me while we were taking a moment to breathe that he was giving me special consideration because of the lack of concern Gerard seemed to have been showing towards the training sessions.

Eventually we were successful in gaining Captain Bryar's approval to visit Hayley, although apparently his decision was just on a whim, because he was in a good mood today. On hearing the news that we had been granted permission to leave, Ryan shot up and climbed up on deck, grabbing a couple of coats on his way, then bustled us off the ship down to the docks.

There was little time to protest, as by the time I became aware of what on earth was happening, we were already halfway down the boardwalk and I had a coat draped over my face. I brushed off the fact that this was Gerard's coat; I could tell by the familiar rush of indescribable muskiness and the scent of alcohol that flooded over me, and the shiver that came with it (which I found that I was unnervingly accustomed to).

Ryan was chipper as ever throughout the whole trek to the prison, hysterically amused by his own antics and guffawing like a child for most of the trek. He stood on my left, forcing me and Gerard to walk beside each other and Gerard to talk across me if he wished to converse to Ryan. On top of that, Ryan kept pestering Gerard and me to interact with each other– to make friends– but we each scoffed and pulled a face at one another every time he brought it up.

Aside from Ryan essentially forcing me and Gerard upon each other, the journey went surprisingly well. We made it to the prison without being hassled, and we slipped into the tunnel unnoticed. All in all, it was a rather successful and uneventful trip- until the tunnel collapsed and we were knocked off our feet by the impact of the rubble, and walled in by a heap of debris.

My knees and elbows were grazed and I felt like I had snapped a tendon in my wrist. To my immense irritation, Gerard and Ryan seemed to both be completely intact, thanks to their thick-sleeved coats. I scowled and attempted to haul myself up off the ground, but crumpled back down when a sharp pain shot through my arm from the pressure put on it. Gerard and Ryan were already back on their feet, and they were presently piling up loose rocks to form a wonky staircase up to the caved-in gap in the roof (or the floor of the prison, I supposed).

Gerard glanced back at me, and his eyes locked on mine. He gathered my situation from the look on my face, and retreated back to where I had fallen to help me back up. I watched him in bewilderment.

"Don't be that surprised," Gerard said dryly, extending a hand. "I'm not that bad a person."

I narrowed my eyes, but took his hand regardless. I absolutely did not pay attention to how warm his skin was. I also absolutely did not pay any regard whatsoever to the way the contact resurfaced that crimson burning feeling down my whole body.

"We're gonna have to climb up through the ceiling," Gerard said in a bored voice. "Savvy?"

"I think my wrist is sprained," I grimaced, poking at my swollen arm and wincing when it caused a throb of pain. "Not savvy."

"Oh, fuck," Gerard muttered. He glanced over at Ryan and sighed in irritation when he saw that Ryan had already climbed up through the gap in the prison's floor. "I'm gonna have to help you then, aren't I?" he asked in a rather unhappy voice.

"It looks that way, yes."

Gerard exhaled and shrugged off his coat, then handed it to me. "Put this on. I can't climb with all that extra weight on my shoulders."

I wrapped the warm coat around my shoulders and rubbed my sore wrist through the fabric. "What are we going to do?" I asked, dubiously eyeing the hole in the ceiling.

"I have no fucking idea," Gerard said.

It took a fair amount of strength on Gerard's part and a lot of hissed insults on mine when he slipped and grabbed the wrong part of my arm, but after approximately five minutes of scrabbling at the broken rocks, we made it up into the hallway of the prison– only to have a gang of prisoners spit a string of filthy insults at us.

"Fuck off," Gerard chuckled darkly once he'd finished helping me up. He shot the institutionalised pirates a glare, and even I was a little intimidated by the violence in his eyes.

One of the pirates sniggered, the dirt on his face cracking slightly. "You think you can talk to us like that, girly?"

Gerard scoffed, his expression returning to incredulous boredom, like he could barely be bothered with people so lowly. "Who d'you think you are, the Queen of Siam?" Gerard asked.

"We're the Screaming Hangman," the man said, his face twisting into a sneer.

Gerard's expression remained as bored as ever. "Am I supposed to recognise that name?"

"We dominate the whole west side of Plemont. Best fucking crew around."

"Oh, really? Is that why you're in prison?" Gerard asked.

A slightly rabid looking man with a mangled beard rattled the bars and hissed at us. "Fucker. You're from the Black Freighter, ain't you?"

I thanked God that none of the cells had caved in, so there was still a barrier between this man and us.

"See, that's infamy," Gerard said conceitedly. "When people know your name."

The Hangmen ignored him. "You," the bearded man spoke again, in a low, menacing tone. "You have the scorpion child."

My heart caught in my ribcage. I tugged Gerard's coat tighter around me, and prayed that it covered my neck.

"The what?" Gerard asked confusedly.

The other pirate growled. "The scorpion child. I heard you have him on board, don't you dare fucking lie."

Gerard dropped the façade and glared at the Hangmen through the bars of their cell. "He's ours," he snarled. "He's mine."

The bearded man laughed. "For now, he is."

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Hayley had a voice like honey and velvet, deep and dark. She spoke in riddles, in twisted and indecipherable idioms, and her home made me feel as though I was drowning, depths underneath the sea. There was almost no light, and the little light there was was scarcely bright enough to see by, and fell in dappled speckles across the cold stone floor. There were no windows, simply a few cracks at the top of the stone wall for sunshine to slide through, and a candle here and there.

She requested that Ryan wait outside while she spoke to me and Gerard, for which I was immensely thankful.

She called us scorpion lovers. Gerard and me. 'The scorpion lovers', as it it was some kind of title. As if we were anything other than bitter enemies.

Hayley told me I was the key to Parade Island. I didn't know whether to laugh or be very, very afraid by how simultaneously relieved and volatile Gerard looked. I couldn't decide if he looked like he was about to cry, or toss me out the door then drag me by my collar to Parade Island as fast as he possibly could. His hands were shaking, and he looked practically white as a sheet. Meanwhile, Hayley remained calm as ever, dreamy and ethereal and without a care in the world. I wondered idly if she'd just ruined my life.

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We trekked back through the prison, back through the collapsed floor and into the tunnel again. I only managed to get down the rocky cascade with Gerard's help, and even then we ended up on the floor in a heap, laughing at each other until we couldn't breathe, to Ryan's glee.

"See? It ain't that hard to be friends," he beamed.

I scowled and Gerard rolled his eyes fondly at Ryan's naivety. "That's not going to happen," I said, and Gerard guffawed.

"C'mon," he said, putting on his best fake pout. "You know you love me really, lover."

I could physically feel myself stiffen. Ryan frowned and looked from me to Gerard. "What did she say to you?" he asked, baffled.

I shook my head. "She just gave us some useless riddles. It was nothing."

Ryan looked sceptical. "Looks like more than nothing to me. Why did she shut me out, anyway?"

Gerard glanced at me. Don't tell, don't tell, he implored silently. I exhaled. "I'm not sure," I said.

"Why can't you two just get along?" Ryan pleaded, misinterpreting our silent agreement as an internal battle.

"Because Gerard is an idiot," I muttered. ('Lovers'. What was he playing at?)

We trudged through the tunnel in relative silence after that, the dull, cracking echo of our boots on the rubble and stone the only sound in the dim cave. After some time, daylight began to wash over the path, gradually brighter and brighter, like we had found our way up to the surface of the water after almost drowning. We were almost out of the tunnel when Ryan announced that he had left his coat and we needed to go back.

I rubbed at my sore wrist. "I'm in no fit state to go anywhere but the ship," I said. "In other words, fuck off."

"Well," Ryan said deviously. I grew suspicious and slightly worried within about a millisecond. "There is another option. You and Gerard could just go straight back to the ship together while I go fetch my coat. I'm sure you'll have a lovely time bonding. Making friends. You'll be thick as thieves in no time."

I laughed at Ryan's naivety. "You amuse me," I said, starting to walk towards the end of the tunnel again.

"Come on, Frank," Gerard said, trotting after me. "We'll have a good time, won't we, lover?"

"Oh, you wish," I said, shaking my head. You wish.

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spooky motherfuckin macaroni

xoxo