Flint was sat alone at a window table in the lounge, the sun reflecting off the empty glass in his hand. The water jug on the table had moisture upon its sides and a small pool of water forming at its base. He looked across to where Denver's coat still lay across the back of his seat at the window.
It had been a strange change in relationships over the past few hours. The hostages were now the allies and the transporters were now allied with them as well. Although, no one knew where they were headed or what they were to face they were all bound in this journey together.
As a person who preferred being alone and relying on no one, it made him uncomfortable to have to trust so many different people. Especially, when he knew nothing much about any of them, but then that was reciprocated on their side also. He knew Oak and Captain Rumello were of moral dispositions and that reassured him.
He browsed about the room. Denver was back in Oak's cabin with Captain Rumello discussing further options that they may have. Rancor and Detroit were nowhere to be seen but no doubt they were together making some scheme for a serviceable plan for Kisin. The rest of the boys were conversing with the Aviatilians, who’d proved to be friendly in nature and generous hosts. They had all been fed copious amounts of food and drink.
The boys had drunk glass after glass of beer and ended the evening with a battle of songs, the Aviatilians against the Citans. The Aviatilians had won, their vocal ranges being quite amazing and even making some of the Citans jaws drop at the high and low notes they could reach. The applause had been deafening. It had left everyone with good feelings all around. Feelings that had been long missed by many and even Flint had rejoiced in jubilation at the appearance of laughter and happiness in their lives.
Rancor and Detroit hadn't returned to the lounge since they left but Captain Rumello did. He told them that he knew of Rancor and Detroit’s whereabouts and warned that they avoid the port side of the ship. Denver had laughingly told them that Flint should put a curse on the port side but Captain Rumello reminded him that many of the Aviatilians had quarters there too. It had however given then brief amusement from their anxieties.
Flint was glad that Rancor and Detroit kept their distance, it made for a much more amiable environment. Captain Rumello told them the journey would be long. He only knew this because of the amount of food he was asked to bring on board. He was told to carry enough to feed them for at least two days with a stop to pick up more goods on the way. Unfortunately, he didn't know exactly where they were to stop, only that they were to maintain a course of south west.
They were still travelling over the lake. Her lace train of white crests spreading behind her to the distant land, her arms opening toward the horizon. It would be a while before they would see land on the other side.
He wiped his tanned face with his hand, passing over his deep brown eyes that were still hooded and disturbed. His long dark hair fell forward as he leaned across the table, sliding his hands outwards as if inviting someone in. Who was he inviting in? The spirits? He often felt the presence of his father, guiding him, consoling him in his loneliness, encouraging him to be more open to others.
He didn't open, the only person he trusted was Denver. Denver knew him well and he treated him with respect and equality. Washington never did. It was only because of Denver that he stayed, he would have been happy to live as a nomad, wandering alone in a canoe down the rivers and through the forests. Travelling, until the day when the last boat would come and take him away, the day he would see his father once more on that unseen shore that the rest of his kin had landed upon.
He leaned back again, his short affirmation of his beliefs locked away once more. Tilting his head he moved it from one shoulder to the other to help release the tension that his neck and shoulder's held. He was gratified with a couple of cracks and felt the mobility in his neck increase. Gradually moving his head from side to side in a slow twist, starting at the group to the left of him and then slowly taking in the seats in front of him, the expanse of lake beside him, until he reached a view behind him of the lake, he felt his neck softening, giving him relief. He was about to repeat the motion but stopped, and quickly turning his head he looked behind him out of the windows once more.
He wasn’t sure of what he was focusing on at first it was distant and hard to see, but spinning his body to see more he was better able to make the object out. In the distance was a ship and for some reason he knew this ship. It was the ship they had seen sat in the bay when they left the point, the one that a boat had made its way toward. Flint took a deep breath as he continued to stare. He had no doubt the ship was following them.