» Thu Jul 01, 2010 10:09 pm The Last Pack
It was a swamp, and it stank. Michael peered out over the railing, and into the impenetrable gloom. Strange sounds plagued the coast. Michael took a drag of his cigarette, its solitary ember tried in vain to protest the darkness.
The Point lookout landing drew nearer, shapes in the distance seemed to grudgingly appear out of the gloom. The boat was slowing as it lined up with the dock. It was hard to call it a dock though, it the water was slowly claiming it into its murky water.
Michael walked up to the ships captain, a strange man named Morgan Drake. Drake was scanning the pier from the top deck when Michael found him.
"Are we going to wait till the morning to load the fruit?" Michael inquired as he took another drag of the cigarette, the pack in his pocket had begun to dwindle.
Drake snorted, "You seen who we got on this boat? These idiots couldn't pour piss out of their boots! You think that they could do anything in this murky darkness? Naw we'll wait for the sun." Drake continued to search the darkness. "Besides the smugglers work in the night, don't really want to meet those mean sonofa[censored]es. You best get some sleep we got work tomorrow."
Michael wasn't the only one awake in the cabin. Carmine sat up in his cot when Michael walked in, he greedily eyed the square shape at Michael shirt pocket.
"Hey buddy! Can I bum a smoke?" His piggy eyes stared up at Michael.
Drake had mentioned carmines previous profession and had warned Michael to keep his eyes on him, in his own words "if he were on fire, he ain't worth the piss it'd take to put him out, but we needed another man for the trip,"
"I ain't your buddy, and I told you last time I don't share." Michael coolly proclaimed as he made his way to his cot.
"Fine, be that way," he muttered rolling back over in his cot.e="3"]
Michael laid down staring up at the ceiling, hoping tomorrow would come so he could get off of this cramped boat. [/size]
I'm going to be adding more soon.
