by Sean Blaise
Captain Otter had been teaching them the basics of celestial navigation and it hadn’t stuck with her yet. In anticipation of the trip, Wayland had learned it by himself at home.
Jennifer dropped her gaze from the sky and found Wayland's face. He was standing at a corner of the tomb. Jennifer caught his eyes. He looked down at the stone at this feet and back at her face. So that was the South West corner, she thought. And there they would find Napoleon’s treasure map.
Chapter 15
Two hours later, Jennifer found herself in an open field lying on her back. Jennifer moaned as Greg sucked her nipple into his mouth once more. His hand was already under her dress, pulling her panties down around her knees. Finally, her body was getting what it so badly needed.
“Did you bring them?” she asked.
“No, I thought you did?”
“What? I told you to get the condoms before we left!” Jennifer groaned in exasperation.
“I thought,” Greg stopped.
“Forget it. We have to make do with what we have,” Jennifer whispered, too turned on to be very annoyed with Greg’s idiocy.
She pushed his head between her legs, and he put his masterful tongue to work. Greg had many gifts and oral was one of them.
Greg pushed her toward her first powerful orgasm with his mouth and she wanted more. His tongue stopped and she felt him sliding his body up hers, her panties now long since gone. She felt him grab her ass and spread her legs and knew instinctively what came next.
Her conscious brain wanted to tell him to stop, they had no condoms. But she was so turned on, her hormones had full control of her body. What was one more slipup? She reached back and grabbed Greg’s hard ass and helped pull him in.
“You have to pull out, OK?” she said as Greg began to thrust inside of her.
“I will, I promise.”
Jennifer lost track of time. She felt her body shimmering on an orgasm wave that refused to subside. Greg kissed her deeply, his tongue perfectly matching his thrusts. This feels different, Jennifer thought.
Greg was running his hands all over her body, and he was going slow. It wasn’t like the normal frenzied pace of their sex that sometimes, left Jennifer unable to climax. It was a slow build, like a heavy locomotive picking up speed on the track heading for a cliff.
It suddenly dawned on Jennifer that Greg was making love to her. Her mind refocused on that idea momentarily, wondering what had changed for him. This was definitely different. But her mind was pulled back from conscious thought into the warm glowing pleasure that she felt all over as he thrust into her deeply.
Greg kissed her intensely and Jennifer felt the throbbing of her impending orgasm as she neared the edge.
“Look at me,” Greg said.
Jennifer could barely force her eyes open through the pleasure. She opened them slowly, locking her eyes with Greg’s. This was nothing like they had ever done before. She watched as his eyes closed in pleasure and felt him exploding into her body.
Chapter 16
Later that afternoon, Jennifer, Jack, Wayland, and Greg all sat on the hill looking down at the Napoleon’s tomb. Smith had taken the main group of students and returned to the ship. There was nobody around, not even a person walking a dog. The area was completely abandoned.
“It’s perfect,” Greg said. “I haven’t seen a soul since the rest of the students left. According to the map, the nearest houses are a quarter-mile that way and the road we came down is 600 feet away.”
“I don’t even think anyone lives within earshot of this place. Maybe these natives feel like it's haunted,” Jack responded.
“What do you mean by 'natives'?” Jennifer asked.
“The goddamn natives of this island. You know they’re all former slaves. Probably hacked up their masters and freed themselves. It was such a shitty little rock that their masters never tried to come back.”
“That’s not true Jack,” Wayland said.
“Please don’t give me a lecture. I’m sick of you talking all day. ‘Did you know this’, and ‘did you know that’,” Jack said imitating Wayland’s robotic speech pattern.
“Be nice to him Jack,” Jennifer said.
“Or what?”
“Or me,” Greg responded looking straight at Jack. There was a coldness in his eyes Jennifer had rarely seen.
Jack rolled his eyes and got to his feet. He walked around in circles, pacing like a cat. Jack knew that Greg could easily finish him in a fight. Jennifer found that she liked Jack less and less. He couldn’t be trusted. And he was so stuck-up it made her sick to her stomach. Jack was a carbon copy of his weasel, politician father.
“I figure we need this,” Greg said pulling out a crumpled paper. “Hacksaw, hammer, crowbar, and shovel. Better make it more than one shovel. We don’t know how deep it will be.”
Do you think you can saw through the metal bars? They looked thick,” Jennifer asked.
“It won’t be easy. An electric battery grinder would be better, but I think it’s too damn loud even for this isolated place. The bigger question is do we have to cut through the bars at all?”
“I don’t know. The fence was added after the tomb was laid. If the map is buried outside the fence, we won’t have to,” Jennifer said.
“I disagree,” Wayland interrupted. He shifted his body closer to Greg than Greg liked. Understanding personal space was not Wayland’s forte. Wayland pointed at the tomb corners.
“Look. Each corner has a stanchion that is angled outward--see it? And that stanchion pushes to the very corner of the stone paver on each corner. I think we need to cut that angled bar, lift that corner stone, and the map should be underneath that.”
“Are we certain which corner it is? We will only have time to do one corner and if we get it wrong, we find nothing,” Greg said.
“Then, we find nothing! Who cares? At least we can all have a story of how we desecrated the French prick’s tomb,” Jack said.
Greg jumped to his feet.
“We can’t find nothing. The map has to be there; we have to find it.”
“Why?” Jack asked, looking at Greg with genuine confusion. This was a big game to Jack; it was something different for Greg.
“Who cares if we don’t find anything?” Jack said again like the kid who knew his life was set either way.
“I care. Make sure it's the right corner,” Greg demanded, pulling his bike up from the grass and getting on.
“Where are you going?” Jennifer asked.
“To get the tools we need,” Greg said peddling away. Jennifer dusted her skirt off and stood up. She watched Greg peddling down the hill.
“I swear, I don’t know why you put up with that guy. What an ignoramus! A girl of your breeding should know better than to fuck the help. He must have a huge cock,” Jack said with a grin.
Jennifer slapped Jack across the face hard.
“Be careful Jackie old boy, and remember who my father is. You know your father is only in office with my father’s support. It only takes a phone call from me to end that. Play nice or else.”
Jennifer got on her bike and peddled after Greg feeling good about wiping the smug look off Jack’s face. She made a note that Jack was now a liability; something would have to be done before they got to Brazil.
Chapter 17
Later that night, the gang of four climbed carefully up the companionway to the helm station. Keeping their heads down, they looked around the deck of Beagle for the person on night watch. If the person was conscientiously doing their job, escape from the Beagle would be impossible, and they would have to try again later.
The group had chosen this particular hour for just that reason--the person on watch. On the bow, they could see Hanz fast asleep on the deck again. If Captain Otter saw that it would be another missed meal for Hanz, Jennifer thought. But thank you for being consistent.
Greg lowered the rope ladder off the Beagle’s stern and climbed down into the waiting kayaks. The group had gone on a
kayaking excursion right before sunset intentionally so that the boats would already be launched and waiting in the water.
Jennifer climbed down the ladder next. Greg’s hand sliding up her skirt unnecessarily to help her into the boat. God, he was persistent, she concluded happily.
They had already had sex three times that day in half the open fields of the island and here he was fondling her again. She felt her body respond nonetheless to his hands on her bare bottom, and she knew she was as addicted as he was.
Jennifer plopped down into the front seat of Greg’s kayak and unclipped the bow line. She shoved the kayak away from Beagle as Greg dipped his oar into the water and backed them away.
Jack and Wayland each got into their kayaks and pushed off as well. Hanz was still blissfully asleep on deck and didn’t notice the three kayaks, as they paddled through the silver moonshine toward the shore.
The sea was calm, but Jennifer’s mind was racing. She had tried to back out, but the boys had insisted. They had come this far and given up too much to get here, Jack had said. What Jack had given up Jennifer couldn’t fathom; he had done none of the research the others had.
Jack was only here because his father was a very powerful politician in the EU. Should they get into trouble, Jennifer had a feeling that between her dads’ money and his father’s political connections they would get off easy. Jack had been the insurance policy.
Now, she wasn’t so sure. She was beginning to feel like Jack was actually the opposite—a loose cannon that could be a detriment to the whole affair. Still, she knew it was too late to change that now.
What they were about to do was a crime. There was no glossing over that fact. It was one thing to spray paint a historical sight, quite another to break into one. Napoleon’s Tomb was owned by France, and it was a historical monument of huge value to the country. If they got caught, the French would not take it lightly.
“Maybe we shouldn’t, Greg,” Jennifer began again, between paddles.
“Jen, we went over this today, it’s there, I can feel it.”
“But we don’t really know if it’s there, and we’re going to be destroying something of historical significance.”
“Who cares about a dead Frenchman? Honestly, don’t you want to find it?”
“Of course, I do. But I don’t know, I just don’t want to get us into trouble. What if we get caught?”
“Jen, we have to do this. We don’t have a choice. Wayland and Jack would be furious if we pull out now.”
“I don’t give a shit about them. They both won’t face the consequences. You know my father; he could disown me.”
The thought of losing her massive inheritance was terrifying. She was an only child, and the sum of what her father was worth, would make her one of the wealthiest women in Europe one day.
“And what about me?” Greg asked pitifully.
Jennifer turned in her kayak and looked at him. He had never looked more handsome. The silver light of the moon cast his face in a soft glow, but his eyes were wild. He had an angry look she had never seen before.
“What about me?” Greg repeated. “I’ve got the most to lose because my father won’t be able to do a damn thing to help me. I don’t have your money, Jack's connections, or Wayland’s condition to save my ass. And as the poor boy, all your well-off parents would hang the noose around my neck. They would say I dragged you into this. I can already hear it now. ‘Sweet Jennifer would never have come up with something like this on her own. Jack was led astray by this street urchin.’”
“It’s not like that,” Jennifer said but she knew it would go down exactly as Greg described. She could almost see her mother on the stand, large crocodile tears on her face, detailing how her perfect Jennifer had been led astray by the awful Greg.
“Of course, it is. And you don’t see me trying to back out, do you? I didn’t dream up this whole thing. You did, remember?”
“I do,” Jennifer said stroking her paddle into the water again facing forward. There was no denying it. When her friend Wayland had told her, he had found something in his research she had been intrigued. It was something to break up the monotony of Oxford life. Napoleon had hidden a treasure? It had been exciting.
Hidden treasure was like cocaine for the soul, it made you feel alive. As they had researched together it was Jennifer who had made the suggestion, that they actually go find it. Before she had told Wayland to keep his mouth shut, he had confided in his best friend Jack about the expedition.
And she had blurted her idea out to Greg after a sex session at his neighboring college. Yes, she admitted, she had been the one who had lit the spark that had started this whole adventure, and now she had to see it through.
Chapter 18
Greg dragged their kayak onto the stony beach next to Jack and Wayland’s kayaks. Jennifer took the kayaks painter line and wrapped it around a scraggy tree. She tried to make the bowline knot that Captain Otter had shown them the day before but failed miserably. Greg grabbed the line out of her hand and demonstrated.
“Remember you make the loop around the tree; in your right hand you have the other loop; then the rabbit goes through the loop, around the tree and back through the loop. See,” Greg said.
“I never seem to get it right,” Jennifer said.
“What took you guys so long? Lovers quarrel?” Jack asked. Greg’s look at Jack told him to drop it. “Wait, don’t tell me--she tried to back out again. This was your bloody idea, Jennifer!" Jack shouted.
“Stop! I know it was. But I almost died last week and, and,” Jennifer paused trying to find the right words. She gave up. “It doesn’t matter. I’m in. Let’s find the treasure.”
The group grabbed their bikes and began the pedal up the main Jamestown street. If anyone was looking, they would be spotted, but it was 2 am in a town with nothing going on. Everyone was long since asleep. There were no streetlights. Only the moon lit their path. A dog barked lazily in the distance, more out of habit than true alarm.
Jennifer marveled at the beauty of the place. Men and women had carved out a life on an inhospitable rock in the middle of nowhere. For a moment, she imagined herself as a bird flying across the thousands of miles of ocean and spotting this little rock. What a strange thing it would be.
The road switched from “Side Path” road to “Two Gun Saddle” road. What a name, Jennifer thought. Like some Spaghetti western she was sure the name had a long and interesting history. She made a note to have Wayland research its origins.
Jennifer was beginning to get winded. Despite the cool chill of the night air, her body was warm. She still didn’t have her full strength back after the storm. And the endless mountain switchbacks without gears had made the 3.5-mile journey seem much longer. Wayland was behind her, ever the book worm. His lack of physicality was a cliche. At least she wasn’t bringing up the rear, Jennifer thought.
Greg, of course was way up front, ever the showoff. Without money, connections, or power she understood that he had to have masculinity. She knew too, that without his looks Greg would have nothing. He wasn’t very bright, or maybe he had just never had the opportunity find out if he was due to his poor upbringing.
Jennifer was always intrigued by the idea of nature vs nurture. Would Greg have been someone different if he had grown up like she did? Private tutors since age three, and now four languages under her belt. She had no doubt that he would be. What a cruel flip of the coin life was.
Greg turned around on his bicycle and smiled at her with his boyish grin. She wondered again about their last tryst in the field. He had made love to her, she was sure of it. It was the first time she had felt that there might be more to their fling. And Jennifer had no idea how she felt about that.
Cynically, she also wondered again if she was just being played by him. Since an early age, her mother had taught her to trust people very little. They are after your name, Mother would say. Jennifer now knew, her mother meant they are after your money. Maybe she was right.
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Jennifer also knew that her father would never allow her to have a future that included a man like Greg. And she knew if it came down to it, she would never give up her inheritance for him. Or any man.
Jennifer pushed her pedals harder to catch up to him. She would enjoy him while she could. Part of her wanted them to find the treasure. And yet she knew if they did Greg would leave her. If he had money, he never would have looked in her direction in the first place.
They turned off ‘Two Saddle Gun Road’ and onto the aptly named ‘Tomb Road.’ The English were masters of the obvious.
The second they turned onto ‘Tomb Road,’ Jennifer felt a chill and a sudden sense of apprehension. She knew it was ridiculous but felt it anyway.
The road looked so different at night. It was eerie. The moon had suddenly set over the mountains and a harsh, blinding darkness befell the group.
Chapter 19
Ten minutes after turning onto Tomb Road, Greg’s bike slid to a stop. He dismounted and pulled his bike into the trees along the side of the road where he hid it. Jennifer stopped her bike and followed suit.
“This is it,” Greg whispered.
“Are you sure?” Jennifer asked.
“Of course, I am, I marked that tree this afternoon when I hid the tools.”
Greg started toward a tree that sported a large gash across its trunk. He began feeling around the base of the tree. He kept looking to no avail.
“Greg, what are you doing?” Jack asked.
“Looking for the tools I left. I swear they were right here,” Greg responded, now crawling on his hands and knees. He kept feeling around the tree’s base in the dark like a mad man.
“Oh, you stupid oaf! How could you misplace the only tools we had to get this thing done? I knew we should have--” Jack said.
Greg was on his feet faster than Jennifer could react to it. Greg had Jack by the throat in his large hand, as his eyes flashed a rage that made Jennifer swallow a tremble.
