That day, as John B and JJ went to Lana Grubbs' house to ask her about the compass, Elora had a much less exciting job on her hands; returning the stupid fucking scuba gear.

'There's something about my mum I haven't told you yet. She and Ward Cameron, Sarah's dad, were best friends. They weren't romantic or anything - he was about the only man in the world she wouldn't try - but they were really good friends nonetheless.

They wanted Sarah and I to be friends a lot. Pushed us into it more than left us alone. It's probably why we ended up hating each other. But nonetheless, Ward Cameron has always remained a soft spot for me, despite disliking all Pogues on principle.

Let's hope that remains true today.'

So that was why she was sneaking onto the Camerons' boat, My Druthers, at five am, carrying the two scuba tanks and the rest of the gear.

If caught, she was just to say John B had given her the key, but she didn't expect to get caught.

Well, that is until she slipped the key into the lock of the fancy ass boat, opened the door, and heard the unmistakable sound of snoring coming from the sofa.

Shit, if Sarah Cameron's here-

But it wasn't Sarah Cameron. Or her brother Rafe or her sister Wheezie.

No, it was Tyler Thortnton.

I think I would've preferred Sarah.

Why was Tyler here? This wasn't his boat, and it appeared that not a single Cameron was here with him, so how did he even-

Clang!

"Shit," she muttered between gritted teeth as she accidentally kicked and empty beer can across the room.

And it appeared it didn't go amiss with Tyler either, given the fact that he sighed heavily and muttered. "Just a few more minutes, Top."

Elora squeezed her eyes shut as she tiptoed another step, just praying he didn't open his eyes-

"Elle?"

Oh fucking hell.

"I told you not to call me that," was surprisingly the first thing that came out her mouth.

Tyler smirked. "Okay, so if you won't be nice, you could at least tell me what you're doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" Elora snapped back. "It's not like this is your boat either."

Tyler chuckled. "Well, Topper slept over at Sarah's last night and I didn't want to go tell our darling mother what happened without him, so... here I am," he smirked at her. "Bet that's better than your explanation."

"Well, I'm just dropping off some scuba gear John B borrowed, so..." Elora made to walk off.

"Did you top up the tanks?" Tyler asked amusedly as she went. "Not saying anything, it's just, I know Ward goes crazy when they're not returned full."

"Well, the power's down and the compressors are off, so I guess he'll have to do it himself when it comes back on," Elora shrugged.

"Oh, this just gets better and better," nodded Tyler.

"Look, can you just shut the fuck up?" Elora asked, dumping the scuba gear down on the floor.

"Can't. You're easy to annoy," grinned Tyler.

"Yeah, well, I have reason to be annoyed at you, and you know it," Elora snapped.

"Do I?" Tyler shrugged. "I don't know about that one."

"Did your memory just lapse for the part where you led me on, kissed me and then left me to rot?" Elora raised her eyebrows.

"Maybe," Tyler sighed. "But look, I'm the one with the power here."

"Really? How'd you figure that one?"

"Well, I could tell Ward that John B stole scuba gear and get him fired," shrugged Tyler. "I mean, what are you gonna do, pull a gun on me?"

"When I tell you I wish I had one-"

"Oh, so now you're threatening me as well?" Tyler chuckled. "I mean, at least you and your little boyfriend wouldn't get bored in a cell together, if you know what I mean."

"Fuck off, JJ's not my boyfriend," Elora snapped. "Anyway, your psycho brother was trying to drown our friend."

"Just saying," shrugged Tyler. "Anyway, relax. You know I won't tell Ward anything."

"Do I?" Elora questioned. "You've lied to me before."

"Yeah well, this time I'm telling the truth," said Tyler. "Trust me."

"That's the problem," Elora rolled her eyes. "I don't."

She walked out of the boat with her arms crossed and her head held high, the sound of Tyler's deep chuckle following her relentlessly.

𔓘𔓘𔓘

Elora didn't tell them about Tyler when she got to the Chateau. She didn't feel like it. She hoped he wouldn't tell, and if he did then she guessed she would just have another opportunity to cuss him out.

However, it seemed like John B and JJ had also ran into complications on their trip to Lana Grubbs'. There had been two men there, the same men that had chased them down the river yesterday apparently, and they'd been beating her up.

"It was crazy you guys! Just like bam! Bam! Bam!" JJ imitated. "Look at this!"

He shook his head upside down and a load of paint flakes fell from it.

"That's dandruff, ew," Kiara commented.

"No, it's the paint from the house, Kie!" JJ said, eyes wide and movements erratic. "They knocked it off from the inside! At that point I was just like- like I'm waiting for death."

"Okay, okay, so you saw the crazy-ass guys that shot at us, right?" Elora checked.

"Yeah!"

"So, did you get a good description of them?" Pope asked. "What did they look like? Anything we could bring to, like, a police report, maybe?"

JJ shrugged. "Burly."

Elora rolled her eyes. "What?"

"Burly!" JJ defended. "You know, like-"

"That's not helpful," Elora shook her head.

"Okay, like the type of guy at my dad's garage!" JJ shrugged, fetching a cigarette, lighting it and taking a puff. "You know, the drug smuggler type. I mean, I can tell you with confidence that these guys are square groupers."

"Square groupers, like narco square grouper?" Pope frowned. "Like Pablo Escobar square grouper?"

"Yes-"

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

"Okay, so what does this square grouper look like? We need details," Elora switched tracks. "And I swear to fuck if you say burly-"

"Dude, I wasn't taking little mental polaroids the whole time, I was under duress!" JJ yelled, his tone suddenly becoming serious. "But I can tell you, from the way that Miss Lana was screaming, that thee guys are serious, serious hombres, man."

Elora looked down, biting her lip.

"Listen, I know it's a heavy vibe right now," JJ continued. "I'm not living this very much."

"Okay, so why would they want the compass?" Kiara leaned forward.

"It's a piece of shit," agreed Pope.

"I don't think it could be pawned for much either," sighed Elora. "No offence, John B, I know it's your dad's-"

"The office," the boy cut across her, still holding the compass. When everyone looked at him, begging for more, he complied. "My dad. My dad's office."

Then he was up and walking into the house, the others following behind him as he walked up to the office. It was the only place in the Chateau Elora had never been.

John B coninued to speak as they walked. "He always kept the office locked because he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research. We used to laugh at him like he was gonna find it, but now that he's gone, I've just kinda... I just left it as he kept it."

They got to the office door and John B grabbed the key, unlocking it quickly and shoving it open. John B darted inside, but the others were more hesitant.

"I've slept over here like six hundred times, and I've never seen this door unlocked," Pope commented.

Elora nodded. "Ditto."

The office was littered with maps and files and documents. The desk was invisible underneath the stacks of paper adorning it. There was a small path on the floor that one could walk around on, and apart from that everything else was full.

Big John Routledge was not a man to get rid of things easily, clearly.

"Okay, look," John B said, pulling out a frame with pictures of different men on it. "This is the original owner of the compass, right here."

"Okay, Robert Q Routledge," Kiara read out. "Eighteen eighty to nineteen twenty. That's the lucky compass, right there," she pointed to it in the picture.

"Actually, um... he was shot after he bought it," John B said hesitantly, pointing to the next man in line. "Then the compass was shipped back to Henry. He was killed in a crop dusting accident when he had the compass. After he died, the compass was given to Stephen, who had it with him when he died in Vietnam."

"Let me guess, he died in action, right?" JJ asked.

"Sort of," shrugged John B. "Actually he was killed by a banana truck. I-in country."

Elora tried not to laugh. "I mean, it's a great story for the grandkids."

John B rolled his eyes. "Anyways, after that, Stephen passed the compass down to him, my dad."

"Hm, sounds like there's a reoccurring theme here," JJ said.

"Yeah, uh, you have a death compass," said Pope.

"I do not," snapped John B.

"I'd say just get rid of it, sounds cursed," Elora frowned.

"Look, my dad used to talk about this compartment in here," John B sighed, beginning to open up the compass in some way. "Soldiers used to hide secret notes."

He opened it up, shaking it a second before Elora noticed it. "What's that? Something's written on it."

She was right. Carved into the metal was a single word. It was messy, and in not the greatest handwriting, but what it said was unmistakable.

Rᴇᴅғɪᴇʟᴅ

"This is my dad's handwriting," John B said, voice full of wonder.

Pope looked skeptical. "How can you know that?"

"Because he does these weird Rs with the- see it?" John B illustrated his point, holding the compass up for Pope to inspect.

"Forget about who's handwriting it is, what's Redfield?" Elora raised her eyebrows.

"Besides the most common name in the county?" Pope asked.

"Maybe it's a clue," John B said. "Maybe it's telling me where he's hiding."

"Dude, come on-" Pope said, as one of the roosters crowed outside and the rest of the Pogues (discluding John B) stared angrily at him. "Okay, maybe it's an anagram."

"Yes, yes, an anagram! You'll need paper-" John B collected a slip of paper and put it down in front of Pope as the rooster crowed again.

"How can you concentrate with that thing constantly making noise?" Pope groaned, as he began to work it out.

"JJ loves the rooster," shrugged John B.

"Okay," Pope sighed, looking down at the table. "Anagram. What about..."

As he tried to work it out, Elora headed to the window, trying to look for anything else that would help them figure this out. She wasn't, however, expecting to see a black truck pull up to the Chateau.

"Guys?" She asked, voice wavering. When they didn't listen to her, she shouted louder. "Guys! Somebody's here!"

They others rushed over to the window fast, watching as two men got out the black truck. Two men none other than the ones that had shot at them yesterday, the ones that had beat up Lana Grubbs looking for the compass.

"Guys, is that them?" Kiara asked fearfully.

No one needed to answer her, they all knew it already.

"John B I told you," JJ said, turning away. "Why does it always-?

"JJ, hey, look at me," John B turned him around. "Where's the gun?"

"Gun? I, uh, I can't-" JJ faltered. "It was in my backpack and then I-"

"On the porch," Elora said, shaking her head. "It's on the fucking porch-"

"JOHN ROUTLEDGE!"

Before JJ could even get out the door, the roar echoed throughout the house, and John B slammed it shut.

"They're on the porch," JJ hissed.

"Routledge!" There was another shout. Clearly, the men had entered the house by now. "Where you at, boy?"

To give John B his credit, he was the one who stood against the door, blocking it shut with various items in the room whilst the others looked for an escape.

"We need to get out the window!" Elora hissed, shoving Pope towards it. "Open it, please!"

But the window was stiff, and Pope was only so strong.

"Sack this place!" Elora heard of the men say to the other.

"What's happening? W-what's taking so long?" Kie was a mess, eyes glassy and teary.

"It's painted shut, okay?" JJ told them, both he and Pope trying desperately to get it open.

"Guys, use this!" Elora said, grabbing a letter opener and throwing it to JJ, who surprisingly caught it and began to try and lever the window open.

"Where the hell is that compass?!" One of them men growled aggressively outside, as the sounds of glass breaking and things being thrown filled the air.

"Faster, faster!" Elora said desperately to JJ.

Pope, meanwhile, had ran over to guard the door with John B. This was convenient, given the next second one of the men tried the door, beginning to kick it in.

John B and Pope dispersed, relying on the fact that the lock was strong as the man kicked harder and harder.

"YOU BETTER NOT BE IN THERE!" The man kicking it yelled.

Well, we're about to not be.

"Hurry up, hurry up," she said to JJ, who was trying his hardest to get the window open. "Hurry u-"

BANG!

She knew they had guns, realistically, but it didn't stop her from jumping violently at the sound, her body shaking.

"Got it!"

In a few years, Elora wouldn't remember how they'd jumped out the window one after the other, listening to the gun shots behind them. She wouldn't remember their wild sprint to the rooster house, or how the five of them crammed in there, along with the rooster, to avoid being spotted.

No, it was only when she was sat there, legs pressed up against Kie's and John B's, converse planted in the hay, that she really came to again. That she really remembered how to breathe.

It took about five minutes for the men to come out the house, and when they did they were carrying some loot. John B and Elora watched them through the chicken wire, being the only ones close enough to see.

"Caw-caw!" The rooster crowed, and Kie moaned slightly in fear.

"Do something, Pope, shut him up!" JJ said through gritted teeth.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Pet it or something, or talk to it, I don't know!" Kie cried.

When the rooster clucked again, one of the men turned round.

"Guys, they're looking!" Elora whispered hysterically.

"You don't something!" Pope shoved the rooster at JJ, who was honestly a rooster-whisperer or something as he held it, calming it down and stopping it from clucking.

Kiara sobbed as they sat back, the rooster no longer making a sound, and then-

"Ratter! What the hell are you doing? Let's just go!"

Elora didn't move a muscle as the truck drove off. She didn't want to. She felt like fucking shit, and she wanted to cry and sob and just collapse in on herself.

She hadn't felt that way for years.

Since her father died, to be specific.

𔓘𔓘𔓘

"I mean, it's obvious, right?" John B said to the others in the Twinkie later. "A family heirloom? I mean, what better place to hide a message? He had to know it was gonna get back to me, right?"

"Yeah, it's possible," nodded Kiara.

"It could also be possible that you're concocting wild theories to help, you know, deal with your sad feels," shrugged Pope, who was studying the compass.

"Pope? Could you stop being negative for like, two seconds?" Elora asked.

"Yeah bro, you know how I process my sad feels, dank nuts and the stickiest of ickies, that's how I do it," smirked JJ.

"Listen, I'm not concocting, okay?" John B said in frustration from the driver's seat. "My dad's trying to give me a message."

Kiara sighed. "If it helps you believe, John B-"

"Listen," Elora interrupted her. "I... I'm the only other one here who understands what it's like to lose a dad, and... I can understand where you're coming from right now, JB."

The other three all looked down, and she understood why. Elora hardly ever spoke about her dad, or about what losing him was like. It was a rare moment, and they knew to treat it tentatively.

"Thank you, Elora," John B said eventually. "Look, guys, my dad is missing, okay? Missing."

The word hang between them, and Elora stayed silent.

"It's been almost a year," Kie finally said.

"Hey, he could've been kidnapped," JJ shrugged. "That's definitely a possibility."

"JJ- look, what do you think the message is?" Kie asked John B.

He just sighed heavily. "Redfield. It's gotta mean Redfield Lighthouse, it was my dad's favourite place."

So she guessed that's where they were driving to. Elora felt nerves and excitement bubbling up inside her like static as they approached it. This was a lead, and as much as the others thought it wasn't, she was sure it was.

The question was: a lead to what?

𔓘𔓘𔓘

When they pulled up to the lighthouse, they were met with a low wooden gate painted white, surrounding the place. The lighthouse was averagely sized, the bottom half painted white and the top half painted black, its watch tower currently deserted.

"Right, we need to split up. You need to post up and keep a look out for bogeys, okay?" John B turned to JJ.

"Why me?" He protested.

"Because you're not coming," Pope broke to him.

"Why?" The blonde boy whined.

"Because there are independent and dependent variables, and you're an independent variable," said Pope calmly. "We don't know what you'll do-"

"Shut up! Shut up-"

"Just listen to me for a second!" John B jumped in. "Just listen! Pope, you stand lookout with JJ, okay? Elle, you go with them. If we get split up, we meet back at JJ's house."

"Oh, so now you don't know what I'll do either, huh?" Elora snapped, crossing her arms.

"No, but the less people on this, the better," John B told her. "Listen Elle, just stay here and keep these two in check."

Elora rolled her eyes, leaning against the Twinkie as she watched John B and Kiara go.

"He totally has a thing for her, man," JJ said distractedly, looking on at them.

Elora snorted. "No he doesn't."

"It's so obvious, Elle," JJ rolled his eyes.

"JJ, the most serious relationship you've ever had was Rebecca Stevens in grade five," she snapped back.

Pope grinned. "She got you there, dude."

"Oh, come on! I know what checking someone out is, guys," JJ defended.

"Whatever," Elora chuckled. "Anyway, they can't. No Pogue on Pogue macking. We made the rule years ago and it's stuck."

'Macking' was slang for kissing. Kiara and Elora had established the rule of no Pogue on Pogue macking back when Elora joined the group, and as the girl said, it had stuck.

"Well, it might not anymore," shrugged JJ. "Just sayin."

Elora turned so he couldn't see her disgusted facial expression before muttering two words.

"Bullshit."

𔓘𔓘𔓘

It was only about ten minutes later, when JJ and Pope had taken it upon themselves to start playing catch with the Twinkie keys, when they heard the sirens.

"Oh, shit!" Elora cursed, all three of them sprinting back to the car, JJ slamming the keys into the ignition and beginning to drive away.

"JJ, what the fuck?!" Elora yelled. "We have to wait for the-"

"And get caught?" JJ questioned. "We'll meet them back at mine, as planned."

Elora watched the lighthouse disappear behind them, silently cursing.

"What I'm more concerned about is why the police are there," Pope said. "They must've been called? What did Kie and John B do?"

"Forget about that - they'll fill us in later!" JJ called from the front. "Let's just get back to mine for now!"

𔓘𔓘𔓘

But Elora didn't go straight back to JJ's. She got dropped off in town. She needed to buy a few things, and was dropped off on the promise that she'd return later to discuss what the hell just happened with John B and Kie.

The reason being that in a few days was the anniversary of her dad's passing.

Elora had never really been allowed to do anything for it before. Her mother had shut her down whenever she asked, and the Pogues, although supportive, hadn't known him at all.

So this year, due to her mum's disappearance, Elora had decided to purchase some flowers and take a walk up to where her father was buried.

So that's what she had done. She was walking up the street right now, bouquet in hand, on the way to JJ's but needing to stop in at her house to drop it off.

The journey had been interrupted so far.

"Hey Easton, nice flowers! Which of your boyfriends you try'na impress?"

So much for that shit.

Topper Thornton, complete with two friends, was standing just down from her beside the jetty. He was looking at her, insufferable smirk on his face as he yelled.

"How about you shut the fuck up, Thornton?" She yelled back. "You're almost as annoying as your brother at this point."

"Oof, that's a rough insult," Topper held his heart and pretended to look hurt. "I was just going to tell you that one of your boyfriends just got fired, so he's not around for a romantic gesture."

Elora's comment died in her throat.

"What are you talking about?" She asked, as Topper's friends hooted with laughter.

"Oh, you mean you haven't heard?" Topper was taunting her, and she hated it. "John B. Someone reported him this morning for, uh... stealing some scuba gear. Ward obviously wasn't taking that, so he... got rid."

He practically beamed as he said this, and Elora saw red.

Tyler. Tyler fucking Thornton.

He'd told. He'd promised her he wouldn't, and he had. And he knew the job on the boat was John B's only option, he knew.

And he'd told anyway.

She knew it was him, yet all that came out her mouth that moment was. "Who?"

Topper chuckled. "Who what?"

"Who reported him, moron!" Elora snapped, walking closer to face him.

"Oh, I don't know," shrugged Topper.

"Okay, let's phrase that differently, where is your lazy, good for nothing brother?"

"He's here somewhere," Topper shrugged. "Just, do me a favour and don't kiss him when you find him, will you? My mum would kill him if she found out he was macking on a Pogue."

"Hm, very funny," Elora gave him a sarcastic smile and a middle finger before stalking off.

To hell with meeting up at JJ's.

She was going to find Tyler Thornton.

And when she did, she'd slap the shit out of him.