The island was looming, wide and lush. The ferry headed for a gulf that cut into the land. The arms that came out to make the arc of the gulf were mountainous walls of red stone. Derek could make out figures climbing the face of the rock. Others diving off the frightening height of the tops, into the inviting blue.
The natural blockade slipped passed them. Crisp white houses and bustling shops lined the street behind the floating band of ships.
Jerry prodded Derek’s attention back to him, “You don’t really have a thing for watching people in lines, do you?”
“Good, I recommend heading downstairs now so you don’t have to be the last one off, yea?” he waved, “I’ll see you around, new guy! I have to go make some calls. Orientation stuff.”
Derek caught Alex as in the storage section of the ship.
“Good,” Alex cooed as he pulled his pack out of its locker, “was thinking I’d have to come looking for you.”
Derek smiled, “You remember how weird Steven Retchens was, right?”
“Remember? Don’t make us sound like old men, Derek. We only saw him days ago.”
“Well what we saw days ago was completely normal compared to this guy I was just talking to.”
Alex turned to him, “Guy? Didn’t know you swung that way.”
“You want to stop thinking about all that stuff for a second and hear what I’m-“
Alex hefted his pack over a shoulder, “You want to miss the bus?”
Derek snatched his pack and followed, fuming.