by Gabi Moore
He scratched the side of his head and turned away from our conversation.
“Fascism is a systemic representation of a specific behavior set,” he replied. “There is no fascism, there are only people and their choices. I used to think that there was no such thing as a bad man. I swore up and down that all men had the possibility for good, and that there was no such thing as a man who was beyond redemption.”
He turned around and yawned, looking tired, and worried.
“I don’t mean redemption in some kind of biblical sense,” he continued, “but I mean, truly — a reformation of character, demonstrable through action. Now, I have come to the realization that this is not the case, and it is by their own doing. I suspect this is the origin of the saying, ‘He who makes a beast of himself, rids himself the pain of being a man.’ The only difference, is I no longer share any sympathy for such beasts.”
“It’s hard to know where I stand on that continuum at times.”
He looked at me in a strange and penetrative way, as though I was slow to pick up on something important.
“I think not,” was all he said in response.
After our conversation, he began to pay more attention to the trajectory of the boat. We had been headed straight out into the Adriatic, but at the behest of the fisherman, we were now headed in a loop back toward the south.
“Doing much fishing today?” I asked, trying to get a bit of a hold on where we were headed.
“A long time ago, when my daughter was first growing up, I was involved in some activity that made me unsure as to whether or not things would be safe for my family. As it turns out, things weren’t safe for everyone, but there was one spot that has always been kind to us.”
“You think your daughter will head there?”
The man didn’t respond. He looked emotionally distant, and under a great deal more stress than he was letting on.
“It is a small island called Ottagono San Pietro or Bastion,” he said. “The island is abandoned, though it used to have military defense functionality during World War Two. I believe it is privately owned, but whoever owns it doesn’t care enough for it to take care of it. A man could live there and fish, if he had a sufficient supply of water. As it stands, there is only enough room on Bastion for a small grove of trees.”
“Will she know to go there?”
“If you’ve got her bag,” he said bitterly, “then I’m sure she’ll figure it out. Piper’s a smart woman; at the very least she will know not to go back to my home. I’d say this is our best bet. All we need to do is dock, and wait. I’d wager she’ll be out here before the morning is through.”
Time passed quickly through the beginning of the morning. I watched the sunrise from the eastern wall of Bastion. The waves looked beautiful beneath my feet, and I allowed myself to forget, if only for a moment exactly how difficult everything had been in recent memory.
When I’ve been in the middle of a stressful situation for a long time, it can be difficult for me to set things aside, and truly relax. I still found my mind drifting toward the words and philosophies of the fisherman. I still thought about the character and face of Piper, wondering if she was really as trustworthy as her father believed her to be.
Women were occasionally trustworthy, or so it seemed.
More often than not, women, like every other human being, tended to seek out things that were not necessarily good for them, perhaps more out of rebellion than anything else.
I was old enough at this point in my life to realize that rebellion for rebellion’s sake was not a good enough reason to do something. Perhaps, when a person was younger, and they were still in the process of establishing some form of identity, then rebellion might have its place. If Piper ended up forfeiting her own agency, for the sake of pursuing some hollow shell of a philosophy, I wasn’t sure I could respect her. I might help her, but I certainly wouldn’t make any effort to get to know her as a person.
If she ended up having some kind of integrity, I thought, focused on a thing that was larger than herself — then, maybe.
My mind drifted into the world of possibilities, but only for a moment.
A deep sigh banished the thoughts as soon as they had come. I blinked hard and stared out into Laguna Veneta.
Stay focused, Tyler, I told myself.
I knew that there was not really any room for error in the moments to follow. We may have been temporarily safe within the proximity of Bastion, but the long-term effects of the situation had yet to come to fruition. If anything, those moments were essentially the equivalent of the calm before the storm. There were far too many factors at work for me to prognosticate any sense of peace within the immediate future.
Then I saw her arrive.
Chapter 16 - Tyler
She was in a simple sailboat that she had rented from a nearby marina. The way that she commanded the vessel was inspiring, to say the least. She looked fearless in the face of the slight breeze, and open water that sat beneath her and the ship.
I looked over toward the fisherman and saw him swell with pride at the sight of his daughter. It was clear to me, in that moment, that Piper did indeed stand for something that was independent of whatever situational conflict she managed to find herself in at that moment. I couldn’t imagine how a person who looked that commanding could be in a position of duress, but then I realized that it was likely the context of the conflict itself which had likely brought her to that level of composure.
She docked the sailboat easily next to the edge of Bastion, secured it through a lasso toward one of the posts that were jutting out from the edge of the small, man-made island, and then hopped onto the edge of the wall herself, pulling her body up onto the deteriorated cobblestone wall.
She offered me a curt nod, as though she fully expected my presence on the island, and then walked over to speak with her father.
I let them be for a moment, knowing that both of them were glad to see the other in good health and prepared to engage in whatever new plan was at work in her mind.
She would have to take the charge in this endeavor, because even though she was in the least vulnerable position out of each of us, she was also in the position of greatest authority. Only through careful navigation could we hope to get through this experience in one piece, though I suspected that we would pay some tax for our troubles. The cost had not been high enough, as things stood in the present moment. Sure there had been some casualties on both sides, as well as some emotional trauma, but we were all here, and for a moment, I felt like I had found a team once more.
Walking over to me, then, she initiated conversation.
“I see you still have the bag, and you’re still in good health.”
“Relatively,” I said, moving my body unconsciously to stretch out the minor injuries and strains that I had sustained over the last few days.
“Any plans to give me that bag back?” she asked, figuring that I had at least some say in the process.
I shook my head.
“Not really. Unless you’re planning to make a major shift in your social circle.”
She nodded and looked down at the ground.
The wind buffeted through the small trees that peppered the landscape on Bastion. The ground was surprisingly established for being a man-made island. The only part of the island that reminded me that the ground I was standing on had once been an artificial installment was the sheer octagonal siding and the diminutive size of the landform.
“I figured you might say that,” she said. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been having more than a few second thoughts about my social circle as well. Though, I’m not convinced you would provide any better company. Unfortunately, I’m not sure at this point how to dismantle the work that has been done.”
Of course, she was referring to the fact that if she betrayed the group she worked for, then there would only be greater problems for the three of us. On the other hand, if she went to the police, there was no damning evidence to support taking down tha
t group she was involved with, as all of the evidence lead squarely to the two of us, and now the fisherman by association.
I paused for a moment to reflect what course of action might be most appropriate, when suddenly, a small sail caught the corner of my eye.
Another ship had apparently gone around the backside of Bastion and was now coming into view.
Ships in Laguna Veneta were frequent, but there had been no ships around, and now not only was one present, but it was headed straight for the island.
Something about the ship’s presence felt very wrong.
Just as I instinctively pulled Piper to the ground, a shot went off. One bullet, and then two more spat into the ground, kicking up dust and rocks as it buried its deadly force into Bastion.
“Head to the cover of the trees,” I commanded.
Piper’s father ran over toward us, to help get his daughter to safety, but didn’t manage to complete the journey.
“Dad!” Piper screamed, staring in horror at the fallen man.
Falling into the ground below, blood spilling our from the side of a hole in his neck, the man looked up helplessly at his daughter, seeking to view the only remaining love of his life for one more moment as an excessive flow of his own warmth seeped out from between his gnarled fingers.
Knowing that there was no time in the present moment to indulge in the grief of the tragedy, I literally yanked Piper from her position, and sprinted toward the cover of the trees — dragging her mourning, flailing body every step of the way.
When we got to the trees, she was still trying to crawl back out toward her father. I slammed her body back into the nearest tree trunk and stared her directly in the eyes.
“You need to focus right now,” I said. “Your father is dead, and there will be time to mourn, but now is not that time.”
My speech was truncated by the spray of another series of bullets. Each bullet pulled bark and wood from the nearby trees. The weapon used was clearly a high-powered rifle of some sort. Whoever was attacking, clearly had a very simple plan of execution — Eliminate Target, Recover Goods.
The obvious reality that there were no official police members on board the attacking ship went without question. Venice’s finest didn’t operate clandestine kill jobs via sailboat.
I knelt down to the ground and undid series of bags located within the pack. Finding the pistol, I unloaded the cartridge and checked to see how much ammunition was available. The officer I had stolen the weapon from made sure that the weapon was full. I wouldn’t need that many bullets if I could get a fair shot off, but it wasn’t going to be an easy confrontation.
Using what cover the trees provided, I launched into an attack, firing at the man in the boat, and making him dive into the water in order to take cover. One final blast through the pistol’s chamber sent a bullet to clip the man’s legs as he was retreating into the water. The leg twisted weirdly from the force, and I ran forward to finish him off.
Posting up on one of the octagonal lengths of Bastion, I looked to either side of the island, and then back down at the man. He had lost his rifle and was struggling to hold onto the edge of his wooden sailboat.
“Keep to the tree line, but look around the perimeter of the island,” I yelled, instructing Piper to make sure that there weren’t any other ships about.
The island was small, and within a few moments, she called out a signal that everything was clear.
I thought about shooting the man then and there and then decided to go through with it, knowing that his fate might be worse than death if Piper got around to seeing him. The man fell with my final shot, and his body floated limply in the water. Running over to the Fisherman’s body, I dragged him off toward the side of Bastion.
“Come over here and help me give your father a send-off,” I directed.
Piper was more than a bit rattled, but common sense was strong inside of her, and she was operating well on a minimal level of both survival and logic.
We both knew that if one found us here, it would be wise not to remain here for too long. Likely the assailant had some type of communication device, and would not be getting in touch with whoever had orchestrated the assault. However, I was confident that he would have reported a positive on the observation of the boats as soon as he arrived; any assassin would have done as much, particularly if the worked alone.
The two of us lifted the fisherman’s body into its final resting spot. He fell down into the water with a splash, and then slowly began to sink beneath the waves. I reasoned that our best option at this point would be to take the fishing boat, as it had a motor, and I believed there was more equipment available on board.
We boarded the vessel, and then pushed off from Bastion, headed back out into the Adriatic.
Neither of us spoke for a long while.
The silence was broken by an unearthly scream.
Turning around, I found Piper was kicking and beating the hell out of the side of the ship.
Her moment of shock had sustained her long enough to where we could find a secure place for her to break down. Now that we were in the middle of the sea, and out of immediate danger, I had to agree with her.
She couldn’t have picked a better spot.
After her outburst, she sat silently for a long while, staring off into the water and crying. The tears rolled down her eyes, and as though the environment itself was sympathetic to our cause, a light rain began to fall on from the overcast sky overhead.
I walked over to see how she was faring, but stopped only a few feet away from her, astonished.
Steam was literally rising off of her body in the rain, and she looked absolutely hellish. The amount of anger present in that woman was incredible, and I had nothing but understanding for where she was coming from. Personally, I hoped that she would stay there as long as possible.
“Hold onto that feeling,” I told her, ”but only long enough so that it will give you the strength necessary for you to do what needs to be done. Any longer, and it will start to eat at your heart like cancer.”
She turned to me quickly, as if to accuse me of speaking up about things that I knew nothing about, but I didn’t back down from her glare. There was no reason for her to be upset at me. She knew I had helped both of us out, and I knew that we had all shared in the responsibilities of the events that had come to pass. I was no more to blame than she, but in a sense, we were both irreparably tied to loss.
I wanted to say something more, to offer her some form of encouragement that would ease her mind, but then I stopped. Thinking that I could do anything at this point about her grief was nothing short of pride. The best thing for me to do was to safely navigate the ship toward a location where the two of us might know a moment of peace. At the moment, I didn’t know exactly where that was, but the unknown seemed like a safer bet than any of the places we had been previously.
I targeted our course for the center of the Adriatic and cut the engine so we proceeded forward at a drifting pace. We had nowhere to be, and I figured that I might as well pause for a moment to reflect.
Chapter 17 - Tyler
She cried for a bit, staring out at the water, so I let her be. When she stopped, she came toward the ship’s navigation room, with a desperate and strange look in her eye.
“You as much a man as you seem?” she asked, leaning in toward me, and placing her hand on my cock.
Without pausing, she leaned in to kiss me. Her lips were chapped and puffy, but they felt good against my skin. Her eyes were red from crying and kept a careful eye on her, wondering just what she was all about.
“I need something to keep my mind busy,” she said, continuing to rub her palm against the front of my pants, “and I like it rough, do you understand?”
I nodded and pulled her top down so I could pinch her nipple. Then I wrapped my hand around her throat, while sticking my tongue down to meet her tongue. She opened her mouth for my fingers, and I slapped sharply on the face. She bit her tongue and nodded.
“That’s what I need right now,” she said, and she knelt down to unzip my pants.
My cock was already hard when she started to bob her head up and down on my penis. Her eyes were closed, and she was giving herself one hundred percent to the lust of the moment. I grabbed her by the back of the neck and shoved my cock down her throat.
“You’ll look at me when you suck my cock,” I demanded.
She nodded because my hand made her head nod. Then I gave her some more space, so she could have a bit of freedom to demonstrate her improvements. That didn’t last long because I found it was easier to hold her hand behind her back and shove my cock in between her lips. She kept coming toward me, with her mouth open, looking to kiss my body. I wanted her so badly, that I lifted her up off of the ground, and placed one of her legs over my shoulder. With her vagina right there for me, I began to clutch my body up against hers, while fucking the hell out of her.
She moaned incredibly loudly, and tears came down her eyes. I grabbed her by the roots of her hair, and she pleaded with me.
“Don’t stop,” she said. “Don’t you fucking stop.”
Maintaining my composure, I pushed her back down to the floor so I could get my hand firmly planted on the top of her head. My cock was wet with her saliva, and I pumped by dick in and out of her mouth as fast or slow as I saw fit.
Pulling her down on top of me next, I began to fuck her from behind, while she rode me in the referee position.
“Fuck… OH OH OH!” she moaned, as she twitched and convulsed on top of my cock.
The two of us took turns fucking each other. When I thrust into her, she couldn’t do anything but cry out in pleasure, and when she was busy fucking me, drove her into paralysis through repeatedly rubbing my fingers on her clit. She switched positions on me, giving me just the right opportunity to put her in a submission hold and spank her while I pumped my cock in and out of her body. I moved faster than any other time and gave everything that I had to fuck her.
