As the crew moved through the cavern, their feet crunched over large coins and accidentally kicked around other trinkets. Everyone looked around in awe of the treasure hoard around them, overwhelmed by the possibility that these riches could bring. Their lives could be changed for the better.
Even the usually dour Oniel had a small smile on his face. He didn't look quite right with it. The smile didn't fit the silent sourpuss that Purdue had come to know and loath.
Alton cupped a pile of gold coins in his hands and tossed them up into the air, laughing as they rained down on him. There were howls of celebration from the whole crew. People hugged and cheered, practically dancing around the stockpile of riches.
Purdue himself was surprised by the sheer amount of treasure that was in front of him. He expected a lot, but this ... this was beyond anything his imagination could have concocted. The amount of time and work it must have taken for Ogden's fleet to acquire so much ... it was mind-boggling.
Worry crept into his thoughts, and he was about to speak that newfound fear aloud, when Aya beat him to it. She apparently shared his concern.
“We're not going to be able to get all of this onto the ship,” Aya said.
“Aye,” Purdue said with a nod. “The Wharf Man should have loaned me a bigger one.”
Aya took a breath, letting herself relax and just be happy with the outcome of their search. She turned to Purdue with a wide smirk. “You really did it.”
“Of course I did,” Purdue said, also trying to stow away his worries for now and just enjoy the victory. They could deal with the semantics later. “I'm insulted that there was ever any doubt.”
Alton had heard their worries though and strolled over with utmost confidence, like he already had everything all figured out. He held up his large radio and waved it at them. “I will contact the Wharf Man and have him send more ships to take all of this back. Believe me, he will send a whole fleet to ferry his prize.”
Purdue almost choked on his own spit. “His prize? Partially, aye. Most of this is going where I want it to. He can do what he pleases with the thirty percent he was promised.”
Alton looked flustered, like he had just been caught in a lie. Maybe he had. He had firmly planted his foot in his mouth and clearly knew that everyone had heard him do it. His face slipped back into that arrogant smile, but it seemed more crooked than usual. “Of course. My English is not great. Let me try to say it again.”
Funny, because Purdue had been impressed with Alton's mastery of English throughout the whole voyage. He didn't seem to ever have had a slip up like that before. Purdue felt his blood starting to boil and suddenly the world around him seemed to be shining a light on Alton; an intense, focused beam of light like he was sitting in the middle of an interrogation. Everything else fell away and Purdue could only focus on the expression on Alton's face.
Alton looked back at Purdue, and then his usually perfect smile grinded together uncomfortably. He looked guilty. No, he was guilty.
The more outgoing of the twins snickered awkwardly. He was like a boy being caught stealing from the cookie jar. He knew now that there was no excuse that could get him out of the mistake he'd made. The jig was up, and whatever game he was playing was over.
“Come on, Purdue,” Alton said, straightening his posture. “You had to know that this was how it was going to go. The Wharf Man does not settle for portions! He is the one that decides who gets what, and you will take whatever scraps he gives you.”
“That wasn't the arrangement.”
“There was no arrangement,” Alton said sternly. “There was only talking. Talking, talking, talking. That's all it was. What is that expression? That action is far louder than any words that are spoken? The Wharf Man does not negotiate. He takes what he wants. And he wants this treasure that you so kindly told him about.”
Purdue shook his head. He should have known better than to trust the Wharf Man and his goons. He had known better, he'd just second guessed himself. In this desperate time, he had to accept friendship where he could find it, even if it left him vulnerable to this exact kind of betrayal.
“Oh, I see ... so your boss is a liar and a con man. We made a deal. Me and him. And whether he likes it or not, that means something. He is going to follow through on his end.”
“No,” Alton said. “You will take whatever he decides you earned. Even if it is nothing. You will be thankful, because none of it is yours. It is only by his mercy, that you receive anything.”
Purdue clenched his fist and took a step forward. While Alton was taller than him, he had to stand up to him. He wouldn't let them stab him in the back. They could try, but he would make sure that he came out on top. He wouldn't let someone else take anything from him. He'd let that happen long enough. It was time to protect what was rightfully his.
“We both know that that's shit, and it's not going to happen.”
Beside Alton, Oniel drew a knife in one precise motion, staring at Purdue. He'd probably been itching to kill him this whole voyage. And now he might get the chance.
Alton didn't acknowledge the blade in his brother's hand. He just laughed at Purdue. “We needed you for your map. We needed you because you are good at finding things. We needed something found, and you found it. Your job is done, hmm? Understand me?”
Purdue was outnumbered and he had seen how quickly Oniel could plunge that little blade into someone. He knew how deadly his newfound enemies were. He wouldn't stand a chance in a fight against them, but he wouldn't relent.
“Well, if there's no deal, then I don't owe the Wharf Man any of it either then.”
Oniel took a step forward, looking ready to slip that knife into Purdue's eye sockets.
To Purdue's surprise, the rest of the crew moved in front of him. They formed a protective barrier of bodies between Purdue and the twins. Nearly a dozen people were in between Purdue and Oniel's knife.
“What is this?” Alton barely managed to hold in another giggle.
“You are not going to touch him,” Aya said firmly from the front of the pack.
“We're not?” Alton looked at his brother, who looked ready to tear apart the wall of bodies that were in his way. Neither of them looked overly concerned by the obstacle. If anything, they looked excited by the challenge.
“Purdue is going to let us have much more gold than the Wharf Man would. We'd be lucky if we got anything from him. Purdue will be far better for us.”
Alton put a hand on his forehead in agitation but kept laughing. “You disloyal little street rats. You would have nothing without the Wharf Man.”
“We don't have much with him anyway,” Aya replied. “And you seem to forget, Alton, that you and Oniel were street rats too. Just like us. Fighting to survive. Before you let the Wharf Man fill your heads with malice and evil. Now you are just his puppets.”
That seemed to strike a nerve with Alton and he got in Aya's face. “Get out of the way.”
“No,” she said, standing her ground. “Not until you and your brother start thinking for yourselves and see that the Wharf Man isn't good for any of us. This is our chance to do something better. To go somewhere better. Far away from where he can reach us. You still have a chance. You and Oniel can find real peace.”
Alton didn't speak and Purdue hoped that maybe her argument was sinking in. Whoever Alton and Oniel were before the Wharf Man ... maybe that part of them could be reached, and they could be reasoned with. Maybe those ‘street rats’ could be swayed away from the enforcers that they had become.
“Fine then,” Alton said.
For a moment, everything fell silent. Everyone stood in shock that Alton was relenting. Aya's words had worked. Alton looked at his brother and nodded. Oniel nodded back, and to everyone's horror, moved forward with the knife still in his grasp, ready to start tabbing the crew one by one until he got to Purdue.
The twins were going to kill them all for their betrayal of the Wharf Man.
Purdue looked down at the pile
of gold beside him. An old sword gleamed among the jewelry and trophies—an old scimitar that had probably been taken when Admiral Ogden's ships were out in the waters of the Middle East.
Purdue reached for it, wrapping his hand around the hilt and pulled the curved blade from the heap of treasure. He lunged forward through his group of supporters to protect them. Oniel retreated a few steps, and he glared at Purdue's sword. His little knife couldn't contend with a blade like that.
The crew took advantage of his hesitation and rushed Oniel like an angry mob. They swarmed him, forcing the knife from his hand. The blade skittered across the rocky terrain and the group piled on top of their enemy.
Alton fell back a short ways to avoid getting caught in the wave of arms and pulled a sword from another hill of treasure. It was a more traditional cutlass that he gave a few practices swipes with, before he moved to help his brother.
Purdue intercepted him, swinging the scimitar wildly and forcing Alton to defend himself, drawing his attention away from aiding Oniel. Their swords clashed together over and over. Purdue didn't have much skill with a sword, and the scimitar wasn't made for the little fencing knowledge he had. It wasn't meant for lunging and jabs. It was more of hacking and slashing kind of a weapon, but it would have to do in a duel.
It was clear that Alton wasn't a trained swordsman either, but his ferocity seemed to make up for it. He forced Purdue backward, moving up the slope of one of the golden mountains. As they dueled, the terrain they were on collapsed and slid under them. Coins rolled and splashed with each step while they reached the summit of one of the piles.
They must have been fighting for only a minute or two but Purdue was already exhausted. Every move at any second could have meant death. Sword duels looked so easy in the movies but those actors were just tapping their blunt props together. They weren't really trying to parry away killing strokes. They didn't have to worry that the blade was going to find its mark.
Alton might have been an amateur with a sword but he was an expert in combat otherwise. His general prowess in delivering violence was giving him the edge he needed in the duel. Purdue was barely keeping up and each moment that passed wore him down even more.
Alton threw his leg forward, kicking gold coins high up into Purdue's face. It was only a second, but it caused just enough of a distraction for Alton to slam his shoulder against Purdue. Purdue lost his already unsteady footing and tumbled down the slope. He rolled right down to the bottom, and it hadn't been a soft descent. A small avalanche of treasure swept down in his wake as he tried to get back up.
His opponent stood at the peak, laughing with the same arrogance that he usually let out. Purdue pulled himself up and glanced to his side to see how the crew was doing with Oniel. They were still wrestling with him, but he was putting up an impressive fight despite being so heavily outnumbered.
“This does not need to be hard,” Alton called down. “Let it happen. Do not let it happen. It does not matter. It will still come to be either way.”
Purdue brushed himself off, hoping Alton couldn't see the sweat pouring down his face. “You sound real sure of yourself, but I've hardly been trying.” It was a bold-faced lie, but Purdue knew that half of a fight was all about how you presented yourself to your enemy. He needed to display resilience and strength. He pointed his scimitar up at Alton. “So are we done dancing around yet?”
Alton's face twisted into a mix of surprise and irritation. His expression hardened into a leer almost resembled his brother's perfectly. He was angry, and wanted this whole mess cleaned up immediately. To him, the best place to start cleaning up was with ending Purdue.
Alton jumped forward and slid down the mound of gold like it was a ski slope. The momentum from his slide launched him at Purdue, and Alton used that inertia to start an even more vicious series of strikes. Their swords clanged together rapidly, forcing Purdue farther back.
Alton wasn't holding back anymore. His swipes were laced with rage and were becoming harder and harder for Purdue to anticipate. He was barely keeping up at all now. He managed to block one swing only to have Alton throw a punch with his free hand. His knuckles smashed against Purdue's jaw, sending him reeling back. He managed to stay on his feet, but just barely.
Alton kept on him, not giving him a moment to get his bearings. His annoyance was emanating off him, and Purdue could practically feel his murderous intent backing his every attack.
Purdue was being pushed back toward the crew, who were still grappling with Oniel. If Alton got closer, he would probably start cutting them down. Purdue tried to hold him at bay and far away from his vulnerable allies. They had enough to deal with in their attempts to subdue Oniel.
However, he was hit again by a punch from Alton's free hand. It connected with the side of his head and Purdue fell onto his back. The whole world was spinning and throbbing. Or maybe that was his racing heartbeat. He wasn't sure. He just felt pain and fatigue weighing down on him, and keeping him from getting back up.
Alton stood over him and chuckled. “You took a fall, my friend.”
Purdue desperately swiped at him from where he lay but Alton easily deflected his strikes. Purdue shuffled backward on the ground, trying to crawl away and recover his footing, but Alton followed closely. He was very visibly relishing the sight of Purdue trying so hard to survive. That broad smile of his had never seemed bigger.
His cutlass smashed against Purdue's sword hard enough that it batted the scimitar out of his hand and flying into one of the mounds of treasure. Purdue toppled back onto his back, completely disarmed and now defenseless.
“You should have just accepted your role. Accepted whatever we gave you. Now this is just a mess. A mess that I have to clean up.” Alton let out a sigh and pointed his sword at the crew nearby. “You know we are going to have to kill them now. All of them. That is on you. The Wharf Man does not tolerate insubordination and you made them all start talking crazy. You poisoned their minds. Gave them hopes for something that they can't have. You’re going to be the one killing them. Not me. Not really.”
“That's a load of shit,” Purdue said, trying to pull himself backward on the ground, away from the sword pointing down at him. As his hands touched the ground, he felt something smooth graze against his fingers. He reached around some more to find that it was a knife—the one Oniel dropped when the crew jumped him. “If anyone's mind is poisoned, it's you and your brother. The rest of the crew just understands that they could have a better life than running errands for a goddamn vulture like the Wharf Man.”
“Quiet!” Alton barked.
Purdue slowly wrapped his hand around the handle of Oniel's knife behind his back.
“You should have just known your place. You are already a dead man, hmm? Is that not what you told us? So there is really no harm in killing you again, is there?”
It sounded quite harmful actually.
Purdue tightened his grip on the knife behind him, making sure he had a good hold of it. It could make all the difference.
Alton looked happy to have Purdue looking up at him like he was superior. He kept inching closer with his sword, taking full advantage of the situation. “I will tell the Wharf Man that you thanked him for all of the help he gave you. You were so grateful, weren't you?”
Alton raised his sword for the killing blow. It was a split second delay, but it had to be enough. It had to. Purdue launched himself forward, throwing his whole body at his opponent. He kept Oniel's knife in front of him, and as their bodies collided, the small blade sank into Alton's chest. Alton looked down at Purdue with wide eyes, and a weak gasp left his mouth. He trembled and stared at the knife piercing his heart. His sword fell from his hand and clattered on the ground. Purdue was practically embracing him, with one hand on his back and the other still clutching the knife that found its target.
As dangerous as Alton was, Purdue never wanted their alliance to end like this. He would have preferred something peaceful; an amicable end after staying true
to the deal that was initially made. Instead, Alton had a blade in him and was choking on his own blood, just like Purdue would have been.
Purdue really needed to stop making deals with such dangerous individuals. It never panned out well for him in the end. It usually ended with betrayal, attempted murder, and with Purdue feeling like a gullible moron.
Alton crumbled downward and Purdue crouched along with him. Alton's eyes kept fluttering as his life slipped away. He leaned in close, resting his chin on Purdue's shoulder.
The dying man whispered in his ear. “My ... my brother will ... kill you...”
The more jovial of the murderous twins choked out one final laugh before falling permanently silent, almost as silent as his living brother.
Purdue let Alton slip off of him and slump onto the ground, dead.
Oniel let out a horrible, hollow shout of rage from behind Purdue. He started pushing and bashing the crew out of his way. His attention was fixed on Purdue and Alton's body. He shoved anyone who tried to stop him away, and started advancing on Purdue. He was filled with utter fury, and was going to rip Purdue to pieces for what he'd done.
Purdue picked up the cutlass Alton had dropped and prepared to defend himself, but there was no need. Aya appeared behind Oniel, catching up behind him, and hit him in the back of the head with a jewelry box she had plucked out of the piles of treasure. Oniel dropped hard, tipping over like a seven foot tree. He lay unconscious near his dead brother. Purdue looked down to see the same face on two bodies, both with their eyes closed. One was still gently breathing, while the other never would again.
He looked up from the twins to Aya and smiled. “Thanks.”
Aya nodded, dropping the jewelry box and pointing at Oniel. “What do we do with him now?”
It was a good question. He was a threat to them, and the moment he was awake, he would surely come after them to avenge his fallen brother. But, Purdue was in no mood to have to kill someone else. One was hard enough, no matter how evil the victim was.
Order of the Black Sun Box Set 9 Page 34