Looking up at the burning sun, Vincent stretched his arms towards it and let out a long sigh. He had just walked onto the shore of Alexandria after being held up and questioned by the Egyptian Navy that saved him and the rest of the OFU's crew. Questions and being talked down to weren't exactly his favorite things in the world, so much so that he eventually gave the authorities deliberately ridiculous statements just to mess with them.
He was eventually let out and escorted to the edge of the docks, right next to the ocean, where a large group was gathered. Among the group was Robert, a familiar-looking sailor, his friends, and the rest of the crew. Robert and the familiar sailor seemed to be having an intense conversation, while Zander seemed to be listening intensely. Eliot, on the other hand, seemed to be looking at the people all around who were wandering the streets or doing various miscellaneous things.
“Yo,” Vincent said, walking up to the group.
Stopping mid-conversation, Robert looked over at Vincent and smiled. “Ah, Vince, they finally let you out, huh? A lotta questions?” Roberts asked.
“Yeah, it was just a bunch of asshats who think they’re tough shit,” Vincent replied, rolling his eyes.
“Did it not go well?”
“I’m willing to wager that he didn’t answer a single one of their questions,” Zander interrupted.
“And,” Eliot added, “he probably made them so mad that they just let him go.”
“Bingo says the bullseye,” Vincent replied with a half-cocked smile, snapping and pointing his fingers at Eliot.
Robert then let out a long, drawn-out sigh and facepalmed. “That sounds about right,” Robert said, his hand still covering his face.
“But anyway, what have you guys been yappin’ about?” Vincent asked.
As if in response to Vincent’s question, the familiar sailor stepped out towards him. After looking at the sailor, Vincent recognized this man as the badass traveler that took out a lot of the pirates.
“I can answer that for you,” he said softly. “We met earlier—my name is Yoshin Ryugata. We were talking about the events of the day and were trying to put a sensible timeline together. The information from your friend,” he pointed at Zander, who had a look of superiority and confidence to him, “has been really valuable.”
“What’s there to talk about?” Vincent asked. “A giant fish and a bunch of pirates attacked us. Seems pretty simple to me.” He was genuinely confused as to why there seemed to be any confusion about the events.
“You smooth-brained moron, it goes deeper than that,” Zander exclaimed, his eyes rolling in their sockets.
“Your arrogant friend is right,” Yoshin added. “These sudden appearances of super-powered people seems quite strange. With what Zander had shared, we think that there has to be something or some event that created these powers, and we think that these obelisks might have something to do with that as well.”
“Cool, that’s what we were doing anyways,” Vincent stated, nonchalantly. “Let’s get going.”
“Now hold on, Vince,” Robert interjected. “Let’s talk this through.”
“Ugh, more words!” Vincent exclaimed. “I thought I was done with this stuff for today.” After saying that, he let out a quick sigh and rolled his head around in annoyance.
“Now, Yoshin,” Robert said, looking at Yoshin, “what were you proposing that we do?”
“Well, I was actually heading here for my own reasons that I believe are related to this current breakout,” Yoshin said.
“Perfect!” Vincent happily said, throwing his hands in the air. “Come wi—”
“That being said,” Yoshin cut in, “I will not be traveling with you. I think these obelisks are important, but what I am doing is more important at this time. It requires me to stay here and help out the remaining crew. And no,” he said, staring at Vincent, “you can’t come with me.”
“Good, I wasn’t plannin’ on it.” Vincent was actually extremely disappointed that he couldn’t go with Yoshin and do whatever cool thing he was sure Yoshin was going to do.
“Well, then it seems everyone is in agreement then.” Yoshin then looked off towards the east. “I suppose I should get back to work,” he said, turning around with grace and striding off towards the group of OFU sailors.
For a few seconds after Yoshin left, there was an awkward silence that lingered about the group. Vincent tried to start up a conversation, but every time he would open his mouth, his eyes would meet his father’s and he would lock up and just cough instead.
Eventually, Eliot was the one who broke the silence with his soft, delicate voice. “He sure was a nice guy, right, Vince?” he said, smiling at Vincent.
“Wha—” Vincent stumbled. “I, uh, yeah he was.” Words were now coming out of his mouth, and it was a bit of relief. Eliot somehow always knew what people were feeling and how to help them out. “So, uh, Zander,” he said looking at Zander, “what’s the next step?”
With a look of slight surprise, Zander replied “Well of course we have to make our way to Cairo. After all, we’re already here, so we might as well see this through.”
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Vincent exclaimed. “Speaking of seein’ things, I wanna go see those pyramid things that people always talk about.”
“Ooo, I bet they look really cool in the right light,” Eliot replied with an equal amount of enthusiasm. “I’m sure to find some inspiration there for a poem or two.”
Suddenly, Vincent felt a sudden burst of pain coming from the back of his head. Turning around to see what the cause of it was, he saw a rather unimpressed Zander blankly staring at him.
“We’re not taking any detours for anything. No pyramids, no casinos, no sports, nothing,” Zander replied, crushing Vincent’s dreams of a vacation in Egypt. “Got it?”
Rubbing the back of his head, Vincent replied, “What if it’s something really cool?”
In response, Zander raised his left hand and reeled it back, showing Vincent that he was ready to give him another slap in an instant.
“Booooo,” Vincent replied, giving Zander a thumbs down, “you’re no fun.”
“Never have been,” Zander replied. “Now, Mr. Huron,” he said, shifting his attention towards Robert, “before your buffoon-of-a-son barged in, you said that you know of a way to get to Cairo?”
Robert, who was just watching the interaction between lifelong friends with a smile on his face, snapped back to a more serious expression. He reached back for his wallet and pulled out some foreign-looking currency and began to count it.
“Yeah, I do, actually,” Robert replied. He continued to count the money, and when he was done, he looked at Vincent. “Me and Vanessa had our honeymoon here, ‘cause she was such a huge nerd for old cities and stuff like that.” Robert’s attention then seemed to shift upwards, almost like he was reminiscing about something. “She would always talk about how interestin’ it was to think about how people lived back in time…”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
As Robert began to trail off, he shook his head, looked back to Vincent, and immediately he seemed to blush a bit and smile. “Anyways, that’s not what’s important. There’s a bus that usually stops around here that goes directly to Cairo. It has a sign on it that looks like a coffin and it’s called the Mummy.”
“Probably a name to capitalize on dumb tourists who think that that’s all Egypt is,” Zander interjected.
“You’re probably right,” Robert replied. “Anyways, take this,” he said, holding out a slim stack of money in Vincent’s direction. “It’s probably enough for a bus ride there and back and for a night’s stay at a decent hotel.”
Vincent was a bit hesitant to take the money from his dad, although he wasn’t sure why. After a few seconds of pondering on the feeling, he couldn’t think of a reason not to take the money and so he took it and shoved it in his pocket.
“I still have some work to do,” Robert said. Looking in the direction of his crew, he let out a sigh and said, “And I can tell that there’s gonna be a lot of it.”
After saying that, Robert stood still in the complete and awkward silence that lingered between him and the group; more specifically, Vincent. “Well, I suppose you’re headin’ off now,” Robert said, looking at his son. Robert then stared into the eyes of his grown, but still reckless son, and seemed to speak into them, saying “Be careful out there, please. Please be safe and keep your friends safe, too.”
After saying that, there was another pause of awkward silence that lingered around the group. It took a little over ten seconds or so of waiting in that awkward silence before Vincent’s patience was at its end.
“Well, see ya,” Vincent said nonchalantly. He then immediately turned around and began to make his way towards the bus station. He didn’t even bother to check if Zander and Eliot were following him or not—he was too focused on the strange feelings that were making their way around his heart after hearing those words coming from his dad.
He continued to march forward towards the direction that Robert pointed at when mentioning the bus to Cairo, not really paying much attention to anything around him. The people that he occasionally bumped into, the many walls that he almost collided with, and the various outdoor vendors that he almost crashed into didn’t seem to phase him in the slightest; he was too deep into his own inner thoughts and feelings. That seemed to be happening a lot more to him than usual.
Usually, he wouldn’t bother to think about how he truly felt about things, especially himself, and he very rarely cared to think too hard about anything. However, over the last few days, something had been tugging at him from deep within some part of him, and it bothered him that it kept creeping up on him. The feeling was like a cold hand that constantly snuck up on him, wrapping itself around his heart, and before he could even find the source of whose hand it was, it would be gone. After every one of those instances, something new felt off about him and that bothered him more than anything. After all, he was the one and only person who was in control of himself, and the fact that something or someone was changing him without his consent irritated him to his very core.
Suddenly, something pulled at his arms, yanking him away from his thoughts. Upon being thrust back into reality, he jolted and jumped a few inches away from where he stood.
“Woah, whatcha so uppity about, Vince?” Eliot said to him with a look of amusement and a slight bit of confusion. Looking at his best friend, he saw that Eliot had grabbed his arm.
“Yeah, Vince,” Zander chimed in, standing directly behind Eliot, “especially seeing as you almost ran into that homeless man.”
Looking in the direction that Zander was referring to, Vincent saw an Egyptian man in torn up and ragged clothes, slumped up against the wall of a nearby building. The man was sitting down in a bit of a fetal position—head buried in his knees and his arms resting on the ground.
“Oh, sorry, dude,” Vincent said, dancing around the slumped-over man. As he said that, he took another quick look at the man, and then he began to make his way towards the bus station, again.
“Hold on, Vince,” Eliot said, grabbing at Vincent’s sleeve, “don’t you feel bad for the guy?” There was a genuine sound of sincerity and sadness to his voice.
“I mean, I don’t really feel any sort of way for him—he’s just a guy,” Vincent responded plainly.
“Oh, I see. Well what about you, Zander?”
Without hesitation, Zander arrogantly responded “Feel bad? If anything, I’m just a bit repulsed. It's a shame that he’s where he is, but that’s not my fault.” He then began to continue walking forwards, in the direction of the bus stop and away from the homeless man. Vincent immediately followed, while Eliot seemed to pause before running to catch up with both of them.
“That may be true,” Eliot replied sheepishly, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t help them. Why don’t we just give him a little bit of our extra cash? You know, just enough for him to eat for a day or two.”
Zander paused in response and slowly turned around until he faced Eliot. “Eliot,” he began, “that’s not going to help him.”
“What do you—”
Zande then put a hand on Eliot's shoulder, cutting him off. “It’s a waste of time and money. Those kinds of people got that way because they don’t know how to handle money. They spend every penny they have on their addictions, hobbies, and other useless things, and next thing they know, they have nothing. That’s the only reason they end up in that state. It makes me feel so unclean just thinking about wasting money on things like gambling and drugs—I wish we could crack down on those types of things more. Isn’t that right, Vince?”
Vincent, who was now in front of everyone and leading the charge, lazily turned around with his hands on his head and said, “What? I don’t really care—people are free to do whatever they want, it doesn’t affect me any.”
“Oh, I forgot,” Zander sighed, rolling his eyes, “I’m with an idiot who has obtained as much education as a third-grader, and someone who will help the same person who just kicked their dog. Now Vince,” Zander said, gesturing his hands in a very arrogant and argumentative way, “I want you to list three ways in which you can back up your thinking. Being so passive with th—”
“Oh! We’re here,” Vincent stated excitedly, completely ignoring Zander.
“We’re here?” a confused Zander asked.
“Yeah, look,” Vincent replied, pointing at the sign in front of them, his mouth ginning largely.
In front of him was a road that seemed to come out of nowhere. The narrow streets and walkways between the tan and brown stone houses that they had been traversing down suddenly stopped and turned into a wide road. That road was perfectly perpendicular to the alley that they had been traveling down.
At that junction, there was a sign attached to a pole that was lodged in the ground. The sign was about at head height with Vincent and it had a picture of a coffin on it. Part of the sign was written in a script that Vincent had never seen, but the bottom half was written in English.
“I don’t know what these squiggles say, but this sign says that the bus to Cairo stops here every half-hour. El,” Vincent began to ask, “what time is it now?”
“Wha—why don’t you just check?” Eliot replied, his eyes showing signs of confusion.
“Oh, ‘cause I think I lost my phone a while ago.”
“I see, well let me just check my…” Eliot trailed off as he felt his pocket. His eyes began to move back and forth and then his hands seemed to frantically move into each of his other pockets. “Oh no.”
“How have you guys just noticed?” Zander butted in, his hand covering his face. “We all lost our phones during the school incident; I saw them on the ground in the hallway right before we jumped out.” He then lowered his hand, revealing his annoyed, yet slightly smiling face. “I swear,” he chuckled, “you absolute neanderthals are so oblivious to everything around you. Fortunately for us, my watch is still somehow intact and working.” As he looked down at his watch he began to say, “And according to my watch, we have about—”
“Oh! It’s here,” Vincent said, interrupting Zander again.
About a mile or so away from Vincent and the group was a familiarly described bus that was slowing down as it made its way towards a different stop. Vincent realized that they still had some time before the bus made it to them.
“Hey, Vince,” Eliot began, “can I have a little money?”
A bit surprised, Vincent looked into Eliot’s innocent-looking eyes and eventually caved. He reached into his pocket and pulled out about 300 Egyptian Pounds and handed them to Eliot. After all, he couldn’t think of a reason not to.
As soon as Eliot was handed the money, he took off in a dead sprint back in the direction that the group came from. Vincent saw Zander roll his eyes while looking in the direction of Eliot.
A minute or so passed before Eliot could be seen running back towards the group. When he made it to the group, he was visibly, physically exhausted; his hands were on his knees and he was bent over, gasping for breath.
“Are you satisfied with wasting our money?” Zander asked, looking at Eliot. “The world isn’t just going to hand out free money to everyone, so you probably shouldn’t have given that man that idea. And speaking of that, there—”
HONK
Looking in the direction of the sound, Vincent saw just what he expected: the bus. As the bus slowed to a stop and opened its doors, Vincent immediately jumped on and in the bus, handing the driver enough money for the trip. As soon as he did, he made his way to the back of the bus and slumped down. He saw both Zander and Eliot get on the bus and make their way to where he was sitting. Eliot was the slowest and last to get on.
As he sat down next to Vincent, Zander whispered into Vincent’s ear, “Good choice, sitting in the back—there are some things that I think we need to discuss.”