The remnants of summer continued to flow throughout the atmosphere of the Crown Colony of Gold Coast. The sun beat down on the populace, reflecting off the stone constructions of housing and the massive fort that stood beside the sea as a blinding burst of white. Palm trees scattered around the area as the streets flourished with the sluggish citizens, each attempting to cope with working in such hot conditions. It had only been a few minutes since arriving at the colony, the sailors had quickly jumped into maintenance of their vessel while the Captain decided to visit the local warehouse in order to discuss prices of supplies.
Emerging from their quarters came the three troublesome explorers, longing for a decent room to sleep in for the next couple nights before leaving once again for South Africa. The view was amazing, Garth and Damien simply stood at the gangplank in awe of what they could see, if only they were born earlier in order to watch over the creation of the colony. The rolling hills, the palm trees, the giant fort. Everything that could be seen held a story in itself, a history, no matter how brutal it may be, it was beautiful. However, John was having second thoughts. Concern covered his face as his eyes slowly scanned over the area, watching the inner workings as if he knew it all.
“You two go ahead, I’ll stay on the boat.” John stated, his words wavered as he slowly turned to return to the cabin,
“Wait, why? We’ve got two nights here, so we might as well make use of our time.” Damien replied, questionably watching John’s worrisome actions.
“I’d rather not stay in the town. You know, bugs and shit.”
“You never objected to this in Mexico, and I think it was even worse because it was the height of summer.” Damien placed his hand on John’s shoulder with concern, attempting to convince the ex soldier to join the two. “Besides, we need to stay together at this time. Who knows what we’ll run in to.”
“Leave him, Damien.” Garth stated, his voice exhibited sympathy, “I doubt anyone would know we’re here.” The words incited a sigh of relief to be thrown from John’s mouth, shaking the hand from his shoulder before continuing back to the cabin.
“You were dispatched here before decommissioning, weren’t you.” Garth questioned, instantly stopping John in his tracks once more. A moment of silence fell over the three as the atmosphere fell low.
“Yeah.” A blunt reply given without turning to face his friends, John’s memories came back to haunt him as soon as he realised where he was. There was no way he could handle staying in the place which held nothing but a negative memory. He couldn’t question Garth’s assumption, he was a smart man, and the actions of an ex soldier such as this would definitely provide enough evidence of a previous dispatch. A dispatch which had scarred the man’s mind for the rest of his life.
“Let’s go and find a hotel for now, Damien.” Garth suggested, holding back the urge to press further into John’s past as he hopped onto the gangplank, returning to land once more. There was no means to find a hotel alone, no map, no signs. The only way to find one was through spoken word, asking the people to point the two in the direction of a hotel, or at least somewhere to sleep for the two nights they would be stuck in this sweltering area. Continue reading “8: (Mis)Adventure Part 2”