Brian and Tommy were Others. They didn't live in Windsor, but lived close enough being out of Brown's Avenue; another place in town cast aside as being a ghetto. Their families were named as lower class, they constantly found themselves looked down on and branded as poor, white trash. Both of the boys spent most of their time in the woods, and plenty of it out in Windsor beating around the neighbourhoods, as well as the bogs and marshes around its deepest areas. Not only were Brian and Tom considered Other, they were outcasts and rejected from every group because they all but lived full-time in their little cabin, barely washing, eating food they catch and kill themselves, hanging out with an old drunk Native man who himself moved into the forest a few years ago, keeping his house in town as a winter home mostly. The two boys were as different and Other, as opposite to the mould of Grand Falls, as is possible.After Tommy and Brian met Don Bargery they were able to better understand t

Everything went off without much of a hitch. Easton's boys remained near fully in tact aside from a handful of cut throats and broken necks, shattered bones laying across the deck. The ships, their masts and decks, all stained in blood and viscera. The mad captain himself stood on the bow of the Adventure crowing out a call of victory to his men, streaked in the colour of the guts of his enemies. It looked a horrifying scene, but Easton and the pirates killed who was necessary while the rest quickly signed themselves on to the ranks of his fleet.The officer whom Easton took as hostage was not as lucky as those ganged into the captain's crew, nor did he experience the luck of a quick and fierce death during battle like those who died on the coast that day.Easton brought the British officer on-deck of the Adventure once they were back in Harbour Grace. The crew lined themselves along the ship's outer edges, each anxiously awaiting their captain and whatever fate was decided for the of

He only hoped Brian, of all people, would at the very least let the fantasy play out, for fun, for the sake of their friendship and the eternal hope Tommy's sanity might stay in tact. Sometimes a little hopeful magic, the unreal, is necessary and essential to living in the cold, harsh reality of certain worlds within this wide and terrifying universe human beings inhabit. Tommy understood this element of life, very well. He thought Brian did, too.The trail he'd been walking suddenly opened a little out into a clearing. Just beyond was Caribou Lake, long, still and vibrant as an oil painting, with its stoney waters and the tall grass circling the edges, and further past were the boggy, floating patches of earth over on the lake's thinner pieces. Tommy stood at the fringe staring on into the horizon, tuning his eyes to the places far at the lip of the water.No lights, nothing except the brilliant moon gave off any visible presence across the entire lake. Tommy heard nature, unmoving,

Brian decided it best to save his breath for the walk out from the station, especially considering Tommy planned to dig in three different places all around the area. He kept seeing more money, enough to dive into like Scrooge McDuck, and the thought made everything else fade away.But Brian's conscience, the well of his soul, wouldn't let him rest comfortably. He knew letting Tommy's delusion go on was risky; for days on days now, near a week, Tom has talked of nothing aside from the treasure, pirates, and all the like, and it slowly consumed his sanity, each day that passed. He kept on letting Tom pursue the dream of a legend that most likely was not true, in the slightest, and his spying conscience eyed him, judging, and made him feel as if his entire body were slowly being torn into quarters, drawn by horses, his every fibre wrenched in pain. Yet nothing stopped Brian. He certainly made no real efforts to curb Tommy's lust for treasure hunting.He went on watching Tom, who took hi

The car parked a few lengths away from them. Two men got out of the driver and passenger sides; they looked normal mostly. One man – tall, tattooed and fairly muscular, the type who spends his free time lifting weights and self-obsessing over the tone of their muscles, bronzed and starved to death – went to the trunk, as the other – smaller, not much, than the other, and with the look of still being in high school due to his teenage way of dressing, but donning a cane in one hand, limping considerably and aching from an obvious back injury – looked to be moving slowly towards Alex and Staunch. They both walked towards the waiting Firebird.Staunch and Alex each got out and greeted the men.The smaller one extended a hand. “You Alex ?” He shook Alex 's hand. Turning to Staunch he asked, “And that must make you – what's it – Stench?”Alex cackled a dry couching laugh. “It's Staunch, actually.”“Shit, sorry.”Staunch looked calm, but underneath a volcano boiled, bubbled fierce in