𝟎𝟎𝟓.                 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬

sunkissed ──── khai dreams

☀︎ 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯

𝖨'𝖵𝖤 𝖶𝖠𝖭𝖳𝖤𝖣 𝖠𝖭𝖲𝖶𝖤𝖱𝖲 𝖮𝖭 𝖬𝖸 𝖣𝖠𝖣'𝖲 𝖣𝖨𝖲𝖠𝖯𝖯𝖤𝖠𝖱𝖠𝖭𝖢𝖤 𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖢𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖣𝖠𝖸 𝖧𝖤 𝖵𝖠𝖭𝖨𝖲𝖧𝖤𝖣． Nine months ago, I lost my father, and John B and I have been trying to find him── hopeful that he'll just walk through the door one day, but he never did. He isn't here, and the only answer we've received in nine months is this compass.

That's right, a freaking compass is supposed to lead us to our father.

This compass has been passed down for generations, so it has to be some kind of sign that it's ended up in our hands, right? Dad is alive, and he's out there somewhere, wanting to come home to us. Dad is the last person to get lost out at sea── I know him. He's not dead.

With the recent discovery of Dad's compass, I hardly slept, and I actually crashed outside. My legs are swung over the armrest of the chair, and my face is pressed against a pillow. I'm not in the most comfortable position, but I managed to catch an hour or so of sleep.

I sense a presence hovering over me, and I blink my eyes open to see him── the boy that often occupies my mind whenever I'm asleep. However, last night, my mind did not take me to him. No, my mind brought me to the last conversation I had with Dad. We fought and fought and fought, and just when it was about to erupt, I woke up thanks to him.

A smile touches my lips as I stare up at him, very happy to be waking up to a gentle face. "Morning, Sunshine."

"Morning," I force out, clearing my throat.

"You sleep out here?"

I nod, yawning because, of course, I'm still very much tired. The lack of sleep will eventually catch up with me, but until then, I'll just power through my days. "Yes, I did," I confirm, wiping my hand across my sleepy eyes.

"You didn't sleep, did you?"

I glare at him, hating that he knows me. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, good morning to you too, Sunny. I'm just..." He steps away, moving to the window that's just above the sofa where John B lays, likely having a better sleep than I. JJ knocks on the window, and yells, "DCS! I know you're in there!"

I breathe out a laugh, my head burying into the pillow as JJ laughs. "Gotcha, slick. You should've seen your faces. Your face was like..." He continues to laugh, but I don't imagine John B is amused by his humour this morning.

I hate to say this, but I'm too tired for JJ.

I'm especially too tired to visit Lana Grubbs' house to ask about the compass that was found on her dead husband's boat. After it was revealed that Scooter Grubbs died during the storm, and it was his boat that sunk, I felt a wave of sympathy towards Lana, and now I feel especially bad that we are going to bombard her with questions when she's in a mourning period.

In this trio of myself, John B and JJ, I am the mediator who makes smart, thoughtful decisions. If John B and JJ went alone, they'd likely overwhelm Ms. Lana, and that's the last thing that should happen. She's just lost her husband, so when we get to her house, we need to be considerate of her feelings── that's why I'm here. I'm the kindest person out of the three of us, so I am here despite being very, very tired.

The boys are talking about Kiara, and I'm laid across the seats in the back. "I don't understand why you don't at least try it with Kiara. She clearly likes you." It does seem like that, huh? "She's like, Oh, John B."

"Is that what she does?"

"She's sketchy about you diving, then she kissed you, bro."

"She kissed me on the cheek." John B corrects. "It's not like we were makin' out." No, because if they had been making out, I think I would've caused a commotion just to get them to stop.

"Low-hanging fruit, bro. Don't pretend you don't notice. I see it in your eyes." JJ waves his fingers in front of John B. "You're like, I kinda like that, and you start blushing." I huff out a laugh.

"I blush?" Yes.

JJ lunges forward to grab the compass sitting on the dashboard. "Hey, don't──"

"I'm just looking at it." JJ pulls the compass away, not wanting John B to snatch it back. He moves it in his hand, fiddling with it. "I gotta admit, your father's compass in Scooter's boat, that's freaky," JJ says, and I make a noise in agreement.

"Yeah. That's why we're going to talk to Ms. Lana, figure this whole thing out."

"I'm sure she would just love to talk to us. It's not like her husband just drowned or anything." She so won't want to talk to us, but we need to try. If anyone has answers, it'll be her. I mean, Scooter must've told her what was going on, right? She must know something about the compass── more than we know, that's for certain.

We arrive at Ms. Lana's house, and we each climb out of the van. The sun is a little too bright for my liking this morning, and if I could afford sunglasses, I'd be wearing some.

"You know what this house looks like?" I turn my head to JJ. "Whoever lives here smokes too much weed," he answers.

We walk to the house, me up ahead for some reason. JJ and John B hang behind me, walking a little too slowly. I'm already exhausted, I don't need them walking at snail's pace, but then I realise why their steps have stuttered. I can hear yelling inside followed by loud, broken cries.

A hand is wrapped around my arm, and I'm tugged back. "Maybe we should come back," JJ suggests, his words cut short by a loud crash from inside the home. "It's a little too soon."

John B shakes his head, continuing to move forward slowly. "Tell me where it is, or I'll fuck you up." I don't recognise the voice, but I can hear that it's a male. "I'll sink you in the fucking──" He doesn't finish his sentence due to the loud crash that follows his unkind words, and I suspect he── wherever he is── is throwing things around the house.

That crash pushes us to crouch and hide up against the outside wall of the house. I hear Ms. Lana cry out while I sit here, feeling guilty that I can't do more to help. "You're hurting me!"

"Where the fuck is it, you bitch?"

"I don't know!" Ms. Lana cries out, and I feel my chest tighten. Whatever is going on in there, I know she doesn't deserve it. Ms. Lana is one of the kindest people on this island, and she doesn't deserve to be subjected to such cruelty by these... bastards, whoever they are.

"Is it here in this house?" I flinch when another crash erupts, and Ms. Lana breaks down once again, crying uncontrollably. "Is it somewhere else?"

What are they so keen on finding?

"Please! I-I didn't──"

John B lifts his head, trying to peer through the window, but I immediately yank him back down, afraid that we will get caught by these bastards. I may have been tired before, but I am fully awake and aware of what is going on. 

We're crouched against this wall, shoulder-to-shoulder, waiting for an opening. "The compass wasn't in the boat!" I snap my head to John B, eyes wide and jaw slack. That is what they're looking for── our freaking compass.

Another crash erupts, and JJ flinches, surprised by the noise. I gaze over at him, reaching for his arm. "Don't listen," I whisper, and he looks from my face to my hand on his arm, his breathing evening out and relaxing. I offer him a smile, fingers squeezing at his arm.

Little flakes of── I look up for a quick second, blinking rapidly as small flecks of dried paint fall from the bannister, hitting my face. "Is that paint?" I shake my head, needing to get the paint out of my hair because, of course, I decided not to tie my hair up or even brush it this morning. However, I did not anticipate spots of paint falling into my hair.

John B rises to his feet slowly to glance through the window above our heads, checking if we can somehow sneak in. "Let's get the hell outta here, man," comes from inside the house.

"We should just go. He's got smuggler..."

"Shut up," I hiss, now smacking JJ's arm.

"...smuggler written all over him," he finishes.

John B moves to peer around the corner of the house, and I slide up against the wall, moving to stand behind John B, JJ following behind us. Before I have the chance to peer around the corner, John B holds out his arm, pushing us back against the wall. "Shut up. Shut up."

I didn't speak, but okay, I'll shut up.

Ms. Lana continues to cry inside, and we hear the rattling of a boat. We peer around the corner of the home again, and we spot two men climbing into the boat, and I find that these two men look a little too familiar. "Dude, those were the guys that shot at us."

The boat sets off, driving across the water, and we stay pressed against the wall for a beat, waiting to make our move.

Once the boat was out of sight, out of mind, we quickly rushed around the corner, moving to the front door. We push it open, entering the once-tidy, once-polished home. It's completely destroyed with furniture thrown haphazardly, pictures knocked off the walls, and windows smashed. It's unbelievable how much damage has been caused, and for what? A compass? Really?

We move into the house, rushing to find Ms. Lana who is on the floor, head against the doorframe. I immediately fall to the floor, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Ms. Lana. Hey." She flinches, and I retreat my hand slowly.

John B crouches down next to me, trying to comfort Ms. Lana too. "Hey, are you okay? It's okay."

"Dude, shes tweaking."

"Do you need a doctor?" I ask, ready to call and report those bastards for what they've done. "I'll call the sheriff's department."

"No cops, please," she begs, grasping my hand.

"Mm. That's not good." JJ slaps a hand on John B's back. "Come on, dude. Let's just go."

"You shouldn't be here," Lana cries, her eyes moving between me and John B.

"That enough for me. Come on." JJ tries to pull on my arm but I push him away, wanting to comfort the crying woman in front of me.

"What do you know about these guys?" John B asks, ignoring JJ.

"They were looking for something," she replies, tripping over her words.

John B reaches into his pocket and pulls out the compass. "Does it have anything to do with this?" She looks down, and her eyes widen, her head shaking. "Do you know anything about this? This was our father's, and Scooter had it. Why?"

"Scooter didn't have it, okay?" She cries loudly, head continuing to shake. "Don't tell anyone you have it."

"Come on," JJ insists.

"Why?"

"They can't know! You gotta get out of here!"

"What do you know about the compass?" John B wants to stay and ask more questions, but she's obviously upset, and we can't get anything out of her when she's in this state. We need answers, but we won't get anything valuable out of her, not after she was just attacked.

"Go! Get out!" Ms. Lana yells, and I start to pull away from her.

"We gotta go. Let's go." JJ's hand reaches out, grasping my wrist to pull me up and off the floor, but some part of me really wants to stay here and find out what she knows about the compass.

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𝖶𝖤'𝖱𝖤 𝖭𝖮𝖶 𝖲𝖨𝖳𝖳𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖶𝖨𝖳𝖧 𝖪𝖨𝖠𝖱𝖠 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖯𝖮𝖯𝖤， 𝖤𝖷𝖯𝖫𝖠𝖨𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖶𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖩𝖴𝖲𝖳 𝖧𝖠𝖯𝖯𝖤𝖭𝖤𝖣 𝖳𝖮 𝖴𝖲．Actually, JJ is explaining what happened to us in great, painful exaggeration. I watch with tired eyes as he rambles on and on, waving his hands to emphasise what happened.

"And we were right outside like this." JJ presses himself up against the wall, pushing the hair from his face. "And all we hear is just, Bam! Bam! Bam! Knocking paint off the wall, G! From the inside. Alright!" His voice raises, and if my body wasn't so exhausted, I'd smack him. "And I'm just looking at these two, like── Wait, first off, look at this shit." He steps over to Pope and Kiara, bending forward and ruffling his hair to show the paint chips or... dandruff that are in his hair.

"That's dandruff, disgusting."

"Okay, thank you." Pope pushes him away.

"Look at all that. Alright? That's paint," JJ corrects. "At that point, I was just, like... I'm waiting for death." I sigh loudly, finding his exaggeration to be comical.

"So you saw the guys that shot at us, right?" Pope asks, trying to set the story straight and steer away from JJ's interpretation. "Did you get a good description on them? Anything we can bring to a police report?"

I didn't get a good enough description of the two men, but maybe JJ or──

"Burly," JJ interrupts my thoughts, and my mouth opens, wanting to respond but I don't know how to answer that.

Pope stares at him strangely. "Burly?"

"Yeah. You know, like──"

"That's not very helpful," Kiara interrupts, and I second that.

"Okay, well, no, like the type of guy at my dad's garage," JJ continues. "I mean, you guys know he made cargo hides for drug smugglers. I can tell you with full confidence, those boys, these killers..." He takes a puff from his cigarette, inhaling a large amount of smoke before exhaling almost dramatically. "...they're square groupers."

"They're square groupers, like narco square grouper?" Pope questions, still looking at him like he's the strangest guy in the world. "Like Pablo Escobar square grouper?"

"Yeah, man." He takes another swig of the cigarette, exhaling the smoke once again.

"You guys, not everything is a kingpin movie."

"What does this square grouper look like? Specifically?"

"You weren't there. You──" JJ scoffs, taking another blow from his cigarette.

"──Because apparently you don't know what to look for!" Pope yells over JJ's mumbling, and I look from Pope to JJ, pretending to pay just a little bit of attention, but it's hard.

"Dude!" JJ yells, snatching my attention. "I wasn't taking little mental Polaroids the entire time. I was under duress, okay?" JJ exhales, leaning back against the wall, needing to calm down. "But I can tell you... I can tell you by the way that Ms. Lana was screaming... that these guys are serious hombres, man. It's a heavy vibe right now. I'm not liking this very much." I have no idea what he's talking about, and I'm hardly listening anymore. I look to John B who holds our father's compass, moving it in his hand.

"Why do they want the compass?" Kiara asks.

"It's a piece of shit." You couldn't pawn it off for five bucks if you wanted to." Pope stops talking, realising what he's saying, and he looks towards me, shaking his head. "No offence. I know it's in your family──"

"The office," John B says, peering over at me, waiting for it to click in my head. "Our dad. Our dad's office." Oh.

John B stands, and I shoot up too, knowing where he's going. The others follow behind us as John B turns into the Chateau. "He always kept the office locked because he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research," John B explains, talking and walking. "We used to laugh at him like he was gonna find it. But now that he's gone, we've just kinda..." We stop at the door to Dad's office. "...we've just left it as he kept it."

John B starts to fiddle with the handle.

"Yeah, for when he gets back," Kiara says, and something of a smile touches my face at the idea of him actually coming back to this── to his office, to his home.

John B pushes open the door, and we step into the office── the office we haven't stepped into since he disappeared. Standing in here, looking at all that he's been trying to accomplish for years, hurts more than I'd care to admit. A lot of my memories as a child show me and John B, sitting in Dad's office while he conducts his... research, or whatever it is that he tries to do.

"I've slept over here like six hundred times, and I've never seen this door opened," Pope says, and that's not unsurprising. We don't open this door── not ever. And even when Dad was here, he never let anyone in his office other than me and John B.

We step inside, and John B starts to rummage through a few boxes, looking for something that will explain where this compass came from.

John B grabs a pinboard I've seen a few times, and he moves it towards the table in the middle of the room, placing it down for everyone to look. Pinned to the board are several pictures and names, revealing the compass that was passed down for generations. "Here, look. This is the original owner, right here." John B points to the photo of the first owner.

"Okay. Robert Q. Routledge," Kiara reads. "Eighteen-eighty to nineteen-twenty. There's the lucky compass, right there."

"Actually, um... he was shot after he bought it," John B reveals, and I force a smile.

John B clears his throat, moving his finger down to the next photo. "Then the compass was shipped back to Henry. He was killed in a crop-dusting accident when he had the compass." Another family member, another death── I know how it sounds. "After he died, the compass was given to Stephen. Stephen had the compass with him when he died in Vietnam."

"Let me guess, he died in action, right?"

I look to John B, knowing that is not the case. "Sort of. Uh, a-actually, he was killed by a banana truck. I-In country," John B corrects, obviously realising how it sounds. "Anyways, after that, Stephen passed the compass down to him..." John B moves his finger to a very familiar photo. "...our dad."

I stare at the photo of Dad. John B and I, age five, sit on his lap, our arms around his shoulders, and our heads tucked into his chest. We're sitting on the steps leading up to the Chateau── the steps that are now creaky and broken. We're smiling at the camera, teeth showing. The photo portrays the picture-perfect family, and it's beautiful.

I miss Dad. I miss the three of us.

"Hm. Sounds like there's a reoccurring theme here," Pope says, and before we can answer, he adds on, "You have a death compass."

I scoff, finding that to be a little... exaggerated. "We do not," we both say, shaking our heads.

"You two have a death compass."

"Get rid of it. It's cursed, and it's made its way back to you both."

We ignore them. We aren't going to die because of some compass. "Look, my dad used to talk to us about this compartment in here." John B sits down, and I move to stand behind him, knowing exactly what he's going to do. I watch as he begins to unwind the lid of the compass. "Soldiers used to hide secret notes," he explains just as the lid pops open, revealing a single word.

"What's that?"

"This is our dad's handwriting." He holds it up towards me, and I nod, knowing that's Dad's handwriting based on how he writes his letters.

"How can you know that?"

"Because he does these weird Rs with the──" John B holds it up to Pope. "See it?"

"Can I see it?" John B holds it up to JJ who tries to decrypt the single word. "Red── Rout── No, I think that's an A."

"It says Redfield," Kiara says, reading it easily.

"Okay, well, what's Redfield?"

I haven't got a clue what Redfield could possibly mean. Well, I have one idea, but that seems a little... silly, so I don't say anything, not until we've exhausted all valid options.

"Besides the most common name in the country."

"Oh, maybe it's a clue," I suggest.

"Maybe it's a clue to where he's hiding," John B agrees, nodding at me.

"A clue? Come on, that's──" Kiara shoots Pope a look that tells him to shut up. "But if it is a clue, maybe it's an anagram?"

"Yes. Perfect. Anagram. You need paper." John B grabs some paper off the desk, handing it off to Pope who begins to scribble down the word.

The crow we keep in the cage outside chirps loudly, capturing our attention. It's extremely loud today, I realise, but I don't question it. It's probably hungry, so I need to feed it later.

John B and I stand by the window, trying to figure out what Dad is trying to tell us. I have an idea── one that I think John B is aware of, but we don't say anything until we think of other ideas as to what Dad means. Pope is trying to figure out if it's an anagram, but I highly doubt that it is. Dad wouldn't leave an anagram, not when he probably doesn't even know what that means.

I decide to approach my idea. "Hey, what about──" My words are cut short when my head lifts, my eyes catching onto a black SUV that's pulling up in front of our house. "John B."

John B lifts his head, spotting the unfamiliar car. "Guys." They don't listen, still arguing over the word. "Guys! Somebody's here."

They rush to the window, standing behind me and John B. We look out the window, spotting the two men we saw earlier. "Guys, guys, is that them?" Kiara asks, panic in her voice. "Is that them?"

"John B, I told you. Why does it always──"

John B moves, pushing JJ back against the wall. "JJ!" JJ stops rambling. "Where's the gun?"

"Gun?" He shakes his head. "I, uh, I can't──"

"Now you don't have the gun, the one time we need the gun." Yeah, that sounds about right.

"It was in my backpack, and then──" He pauses, looking to John B. "I-It's on the porch." JJ pulls open the door, and rushes out of the office in the hopes of grabbing the gun. "Go, go."

"John Routledge!" JJ immediately retreats, sliding across the floor and bolting back into the office. Now we're in a little bit of a predicament. Are these men looking for my dad or my brother? They kind of have the same name. Actually, I don't think they care who they find, they'll kill whoever, right? Ha.

"John B──"

"Where's the compass!" Totally not in here.

"Where's the gun?"

"They're on the front porch, guys."

Great. This is just freaking great.

"We gotta leave!" No shit.

"Guys, window. Window." Glass smashes outside, and I mentally curse those bastards out because I just cleaned the house. I rush to the window with Kiara, hoping to pry it open so we can get out of here.

I begin to tug at the window with JJ, but it doesn't seem to be budging. "Hurry." The window is not budging, and I currently hate Dad for──

"Sack this place!"

I groan, stepping back from the window. "I just cleaned the entire house. I just──" John B grabs my shoulders, insisting I shut up but he does not understand that I spent forever cleaning. Well, not forever, and it's not like I deep-cleaned, but I still cleaned, and now they're trashing my hard work.

"It'll be fine, B."

I peer over my shoulders, looking to a panicked Kiara. JJ and Pope are trying to push the window up, but of course, because Dad is Dad, the freaking thing is painted shut.

John B tugs on my hand, and we move to stand in front of the door, barricading it while the boys and Kiara continue to force the window open. Kiara has found a screwdriver which she can hopefully use to rid the paint.

"Routledge!" The voice sounds closer to the door than it did earlier, and I flinch, a little surprised.

"Where the hell's that compass!" Can't they just freaking leave, like, come on. "Hey, check the back room!" I share a look with John B, knowing that it won't be long before the men are breaking their way into this exact room.

Kiara is still trying to pry open the window with the screwdriver, the boys rattling on in her ear to move faster. "Shh..." These three need to shut up, or we'll be caught and killed before they even get that freaking window open.

I feel the door handle move against my back, and I jerk forward, seeing that it's being fiddled with. "You better not be in there!" Well, shit, am I right?

The door starts to be kicked, and as he does that, the door rattles against its hinges. It's going to break in a matter of seconds. We need to get out of here. We move away from the door, rushing to the window that Kiara has just pushed open.

Kiara is out the window first, followed by Pope and JJ. I'm pushed out by my brother, and just as my feet hit the grass, a gunshot rings in my ears and John B is falling behind me. I follow the others, moving to the cage we keep the rooster who is not happy to have five people inside with him.

I find myself sitting alongside JJ, and I look out the small cracks in the cage, looking to see what the men are doing. I watch them move box after box of Dad's belongings outside the house, placing them into their car. They're bastards── have I said that yet?

The rooster crows loudly next to me, startling me. "Pope, do something!" I love how Kiara turned to Pope to shut up the rooster. He would be the type of guy to know what to do, but he doesn't seem to know how to handle this situation.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Let it, or talk to it. I don't know." Kiara is crying, and I watch as John B reaches out to take her hand, trying to calm her down.

The rooster clucks again, louder this time, and I pull my eyes off the men outside when I see one of them turn around. The rooster begins to panic, flapping around the small space rapidly, and JJ lunges forward in the hopes of grabbing it and shutting it up.

I close my eyes, afraid of what will happen. If those men catch us then we──

I hear a distinct snap, and my eyes open to find JJ holding down the rooster── sorry, the dead rooster in his hands. My mouth goes dry, and I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head. JJ falls back, his body next to mine.

His knee nudges mine, and I bite down on my lip, needing to be quiet right now. If I open them, I'll see the rooster, and I'll probably cry.

I guess I won't be feeding the rooster later── that thought makes me sad, and I feel something that feels a little too much like a tear slide down my cheek.

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❀ soph speaks

editing and republishing is so not fun, not when i really want to write the new season stuff . . .
but i want this story to be a thousand times better because before it was not good

i'd like to think my writing has improved over the last four years (when this was first published)

this was my first story, and it's very special to me, but since then, i've improved and i just want this one to be better too . . . sorry it's so slow!!!

thanks for reading :)