Page 87 of Sinful Crimes for the Artistically Inclined
“I don’t even want to be seen with you, if I’m honest.”
But Joe didn’t leave Percy’s side once as they joined the very end of the short line, showed their passports, to much scrutiny, and climbed aboard the ferry. There they waited, just out of sight, until the gangplank was pulled away and the gate shut tight.
“Up top.” Percy took Joe’s hand, and they wove their way up and up to the top deck of the ferry, and to the very back of the boat.
“Shouldn’t we check on Althea?” asked Joe as they approached the end of the boat.
“She’ll be fine.” Percy placed a stalling hand on Joe just before they came close enough to see the dock. He took a slow step nearer, then “Shit!” and sunk down, pulling Joe with him.
Together, they peered over the stern, and there on the dock, scanning the ferry and the general area, was Tareq. He stood even taller somehow, equally beautiful as he had been at the start of the adventure, but now his shoulder hung dislocated and bleeding, and his face was dressed with the splatter of another man’s blood. It soon became clear whose blood, even if it was hard to recognise him at first, with a chunk out of his head where the bullet hit him, and the stump of an arm, drip, drip, dripping where his hand should have been. Waleed.
Bile rose into Percy’s throat, the first symptom of the full-body horror that swept over him when the understanding crystallised in his mind.
He felt Joe take his hand, pulling him down behind the railings as the boat lurched away from the dock, sweeping them towards safety. “Is that what I think it is?”
“They’re zombies,” Percy confirmed.
“That’s not good.”
“Not good.”
“What the hell are we going to do now?”
Percy’s fingers were anxious as they grasped Joe’s. He took them close against his chest, right to his heart, and he searched Joe’s eyes for the understanding he needed to see there. “I swear to you, they weren’t like that last night. They were fine when I left. I swear, I left them alive, and they were totally fine. I didn’t do that to them.”
Joe was a little taken aback by the earnestness of the outburst, as though Joe would have thought for a second Percy might have killed them in cold blood, then lied about it. “I know,” he tried to reassure him. “I know that. Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. The important thing is, we got away. We’re safe. Althea’s safe. We did it.Youdid it.”
Joe leaned in to kiss him, but Percy had already turned away, eyes to the deck, studying the heavily lacquered wood as he formed his next plan. Joe watched and waited, wondering what he would come up with. The last thing he expected was for Percy to look back, focus his turbulent blue eyes on him, and say, “Joe, I’m ending this. Us. Now. It’s been fun. But I don’t think we’re compatible.”
Joe remained silent for a good ten seconds as he tried to grasp the unexpected declaration and formulate an appropriate response. “We’re not compatible?”
Percy shook his head sternly. “No.”
“Us?”
“Us.”
“You and me?”
“Yes.”
“In what way are we ‘not compatible’?”
“In the… uh… In…” Percy’s handsome brow creased with great concentration. “In the way that…”
Joe choked down the soft chuckle that snuck into the back of his throat, drawing Percy’s immediate ire. “Is this funny to you? Do you like being broken up with?”
“Maybe I do.” Joe kissed his cheek, a kiss which, this time, Percy leaned hopelessly into. “Do it again.”
“I’m not finished with the first attempt.”
“Okay. I’ll wait.”
Percy nodded, then forced a serious expression. “I know it’s going to be hard for a while, but it’s better this way. We’ll go to Sicily, and then, in a couple of days, when you’re ready, we’ll go our separate ways.”
Joe nodded. “No.”
“‘No?’ You don’t get to say ‘no’ to a breakup.”
