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''Where the living and the dead collide, John B will provide,''

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THE RISING SUN painted the horizon in soft golds and pinks, but the beauty of the scene felt distant, irrelevant. Terrance's body was wrapped in a makeshift shroud, lying ominously in the center of the boat. No one spoke. The hum of the motor and the gentle sloshing of waves against the hull were the only sounds accompanying us.

John B was at the wheel, his hands gripping it tightly. Sarah sat beside him, her face pale and drawn as she stared out at the water. Pope and Cleo were huddled toward the back, their expressions unreadable. I sat closer to the center, my eyes fixed on the bundle. Every now and then, I caught myself holding my breath.

''Hey,'' Pope broke the silence,. ''I think we're being followed.''

I turned sharply, scanning the water behind us. Sure enough, a small Johnboat trailed in the distance, its motor chugging steadily as it closed in.

''Oh, shit,'' John B muttered under his breath, his grip on the wheel tightening.

Sarah straightened. ''Lose him.''

''He's in a Johnboat,'' Kie pointed out.

John B reached for the throttle. ''Hold on, y'all.'' The engine roared as he opened up the jets, and the boat surged forward. The speed sent a rush of cool air whipping past my face, but I barely noticed. Glancing back, I saw the Johnboat struggling to keep up, its wake small and sluggish compared to ours.

Before long, we'd left it behind, the tiny vessel fading into the distance. John B eased the throttle, and the boat slowed.

We reached the deeper waters where the current was strong, the kind of place where things disappeared. John B killed the engine, and we all sat in silence, staring at the wrapped body.

''One, two, three...'' John B counted quietly. He and Pope heaved the body up, grunting with effort as they maneuvered it onto the edge of the boat. My chest tightened watching it—this wasn't something anyone should ever have to do, let alone people my age.

Cleo stepped forward. ''I know you guys didn't know Terrance that well, but... he took care of me when no one else did.'' She paused, her gaze locked on the bundle. ''He was like a father to me. And, um... I loved him. And I'm gonna miss him.'' Her voice wavered, but she didn't let it break. ''I ain't forgetting who did this. I got you, boss.''

After her speech John B and Pope pushed the body into the water. It hit the surface with a soft splash, sinking quickly into the depths.

Pope spoke up after a moment. ''I'm sorry,'' he offered, his voice gentle.

Cleo shook her head. ''Everyone's always sorry. Nothing ever happens.'' She turned abruptly and walked away.

I wanted to say something—anything—but the words wouldn't come. Instead, I stared at the ripples left behind, a strange emptiness settling in my chest.

By the time we got back to Poguelandia 2.0, the sun was higher in the sky. The Twinkie was parked where we'd left it, but JJ was nowhere to be seen. As soon as I jumped off the boat, I pulled out my phone, dialing his number. It rang, but there was no answer.

John B was already at the van, pulling a folded note from under the windshield wipers. ''What's this?'' he murmured, opening it.

Sarah came up behind him. ''What?'' she asked, peering over his shoulder. He handed her the note, and she read it aloud. '''She's topped off, had to run an errand, go on to Chucktown without me, catch up with you later, JJ.' ''

''Since when does JJ ever run errands?'' Sarah questioned, her brows knitting together.

''Since never,'' Kie replied, pulling out her own phone and trying his number. After a few rings, she frowned. ''Not answering.''

''Great,'' Pope muttered, crossing his arms. ''So what are we gonna do now?''

''He said to go,'' Cleo pointed out, her tone matter-of-fact. ''We should go.''

Kie shook her head, glancing toward me. ''Y'all go ahead. I'll hang back and... if we can, we'll catch up with you later. Plus, I can keep the shop open.''

John B shrugged. ''Might as well,'' he agreed, his voice resigned.

Sarah nodded faintly. ''Yeah.''

I hesitated, then looked at Kie. ''Just call me if he gets back,'' I mumbled.

Kie's lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. ''You'll be the first person I'll inform,'' she promised.

I tried to smile back, but the knot in my stomach wouldn't let me.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

POPE WAS PACING slightly as he explained, his hands moving animatedly, like he couldn't get the words out fast enough.

''Okay, so based on the captain's log, Blackbeard's in his ship, the Adventure, somewhere out there,'' Pope began, gesturing to the harbor stretching before us. ''And they're being pursued by the British Royal Navy, right?''

John B leaned on the railing, nodding. ''Mm-hmm.''

I crossed my arms, my brow furrowing as I pieced it together. ''So he comes to shore and takes a bunch of hostages. That was called the—'' I cut Pope off. ''Oh, the Charleston Blockade. That was 8th-grade history.''

Pope pointed at me, a small grin of approval flashing across his face. ''Exactly. So, the guy's being pursued, but everybody knows he's got a ton of treasure aboard his ship. Yet somehow, he's allowed to bring two of his dead crewmates ashore to bury them?'' He asked before elaborating. ''Now, listen to this. This is from Genrette's log: 'I've taken great care to ensure that the caskets are secure and protected from the elements.'''

''Okay,'' John B muttered, tilting his head slightly.

''So, he brings his ship into the harbor somewhere out there,'' Pope continued, pointing toward the water again. ''He docks, and he brings the people to shore from the Half Moon Battery inland.''

John B perked up. ''Half Moon?'' He pointed at a railing nearby, its shape curving in a semicircle. ''Battery?''

Pope nodded, encouraged. ''Exactly. So, I guess we just head inland.''

Cleo clapped her hands together briskly. ''Chop chop,'' she urged, already beginning to stride off ahead of us.

The streets of Charleston had an eerie calm to them as we walked through. Gas lamps cast warm, flickering light onto the cobblestone streets, and the occasional breeze rustled the leaves in the nearby trees. 

Pope stopped in front of a plaque, squinting at the text. ''Check this out,'' he announced, tapping the weathered metal. ''They're talking about Blackbeard on this.''

''Come on,'' Cleo called over her shoulder, not bothering to slow down.

Sarah stepped up beside me. ''I think we're on the right track.''

We continued walking into the night, the city gradually giving way to quieter, older grounds. Pope chuckled as John B grumbled under his breath, complaining about the piggyback rides he'd been guilt-tripped into giving Sarah and me. Every five minutes, one of us would hop off, and the other would take over.

''Pope, we've been walking forever, and my feet hurt,'' John B groaned dramatically, finally setting me down onto the ground with a slight wince.

Pope rolled his eyes. ''Listen, it's a treasure hunt. You hunt for the treasure. It doesn't just fall into your lap.''

Cleo huffed, throwing her hands up. ''You said you knew where we was going!''

''I said I knew the general vicinity,'' Pope retorted, holding his ground. ''But you know what's been bugging me?''

''What?'' John B pressed, folding his arms.

''Blackbeard's got treasure he desperately wants to hide,'' Pope began. ''He's being chased by the British Royal Navy, the city's blockaded, and yet somehow he finds time to make coffins for his cook and navigator?''

''Whoa, whoa, whoa.'' John B threw up his hands, stopping us in our tracks. ''Time out. Dude, he definitely put something in those coffins.''

''100%,'' Pope agreed immediately. ''Half Moon Battery, where the living and the dead collide... it's gotta be a cemetery.''

''Shit,'' John B muttered under his breath.

We moved further until Sarah paused, tilting her head to look at something. ''All we have to do is figure out where—''

''The North Star is?'' she finished, cutting John B off. Her voice carried a quiet certainty that made us all turn to her.

''What?'' John B asked, following her gaze.

Sarah pointed upward, her finger aimed at a glowing stained-glass window in a nearby church. ''That right there? That's gotta be the North Star.''

The rest of us followed her line of sight. Sure enough, a brilliant star was etched into the glass, its golden light reflecting softly onto the ground below.

''The North Star will guide the way,'' Pope murmured.

''We're close now,'' Cleo declared.

John B grinned and threw an arm around Sarah's shoulders. ''Sarah Cameron, have I told you I love you lately?'' he teased.

''Pretty damn impressive,'' Pope acknowledged, already shifting into planning mode. ''Here's the plan. Listen up.'' He pointed at Sarah, Cleo, and me. ''You three? Diversions. We need to check something inside the church.''

''And you're on cemetery duty,'' he added, addressing John B directly.

''Wait, what?'' John B protested, the colour draining from his face slightly.

Pope didn't give him a chance to argue. ''Look for the gatekeeper in the cemetery. The gatekeeper will guide the way.''

''No.'' John B shook his head firmly. ''I don't do well with graveyards, man.''

Pope flashed him two thumbs up. ''You got it, man. Keep a lookout.''

John B groaned, muttering to himself as the rest of us headed for the church. ''Where the living and the dead collide, John B will provide,'' he grumbled under his breath.

We stepped inside the church, I instinctively kept my movements soft, my footsteps muffled on the worn stone floor. There were a few people scattered across the pews, their heads bowed in prayer. Pope led the way as people started to leave.

''Good evening,'' he greeted one of the passersby. The person nodded in return, moving out of the church,.

''Okay,'' Pope began, his voice low as he stopped in the aisle. ''So, we're looking for the entrance to a crypt.''

''A crypt?'' Cleo repeated as she glanced around. ''Seriously?''

''Yes,'' Pope confirmed, a bit distracted as his eyes darted around the church. ''Okay, all these old churches have one. A place where the living and the dead collide.'' He gestured vaguely toward the altar area. ''I need you three to distract the priest while I look around.''

He turned toward Sarah, who seemed lost in thought, staring at the stained-glass windows as if they held all the answers. ''Sarah,'' Pope snapped his fingers to bring her back.

''Hmm?'' Sarah blinked, her gaze snapping back to him. ''What? Yeah, yeah, distract the priest. Got it.'' She nodded quickly, brushing her hair behind her ear.

Cleo smirked. ''How hard can it be?''

I glanced between them, unsure how this would play out but resigned to going along with it. The three of us started toward the front of the church. As we passed, Pope knocked into a small table of candles, sending them clattering slightly. The sound echoed faintly through the space. We all turned to look at him, trying to suppress our laughter. 

We reached the priest, who was arranging something near the altar. He looked up, his face kind and curious. ''Good evening. Can I help you?''

''Yes,'' Sarah started, flashing him her most earnest smile as she gently grabbed Cleo's arm. ''We were wondering if you'd take a moment to pray with us for our friend here. She's recently been diagnosed with a terrible disease.''

''Polio,'' Cleo interjected.

The priest tilted his head, frowning slightly. ''Polio? But I thought that had been eradicated. And you can walk...''

''Very slow-moving polio,'' Cleo clarified without missing a beat, nodding solemnly.

''Late, late-onset polio,'' I chimed in, stepping forward. I put on my most mournful expression, even letting my voice quaver slightly. ''It's tragic. We... we need a miracle.'' To sell it, I buried my face in Sarah's shoulder, pretending to sob quietly. Sarah patted my back, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

The priest's frown deepened, but he nodded kindly. ''Well, I'd be happy to lead you in prayer.''

''Thank you, Father,'' Sarah whispered.

We all sat in the front pew, bowing our heads as the priest began to pray. ''Gracious and loving God, we come before you in prayer, seeking your healing power for all those who are sick and suffering...''

I sneaked a peek at Sarah and Cleo, who both had their eyes closed, trying to appear pious. I stifled a laugh as the priest splashed holy water in our faces. Sarah's lips twitched as she fought to stay composed, and Cleo muttered a quiet ''Praise be'' that nearly made me lose it.

When the prayer ended, we thanked the priest and watched as he walked up to his podium.

Pope appeared at the upper level. ''I got it,'' he whispered, practically tumbling down the stairs toward us.

''All we got was wet,'' Cleo muttered, rolling her eyes and shaking off the holy water.

''What?'' Sarah asked shooting her a glance.

''In a lot of these old churches, the crypt's buried under the altar,'' Pope explained, pointing toward the front. He rushed ahead, already pulling at the table near the podium.

''We're not destroying a church, Pope,'' I protested. ''This is wrong.''

''Oh, I'm sure they won't mind,'' Sarah said.

''Guys, this is, like, sacrilege,'' Cleo pointed out.

''We've already sinned once,'' Sarah replied, nudging Cleo with her elbow.

''I think God will understand,'' Pope insisted. He crouched and began pulling at the edge of the carpet, revealing a wooden panel underneath.

''Yeah, I don't think he will,'' I murmured, my eyes darting nervously.

When Pope lifted the panel, it revealed a grate. ''I knew it,'' he breathed, grinning with satisfaction.

''How did you...'' Sarah trailed off, frowning in disbelief.

''What are we looking for again?'' Cleo asked, folding her arms as she cast Pope a skeptical look.

''The Blue Crown,'' Pope answered confidently. ''Blackbeard's most famous treasure.''

Sarah furrowed her brow. ''Apparently in a coffin.''

''A coffin he buried 300 years ago,'' Pope added. ''We gotta check it out.''

''Okay, so here's the plan,'' he continued, straightening up. ''Three of us go down there, and one stays up to keep watch.''

Cleo's hand shot up almost instantly. ''Not it,'' she declared quickly, stepping back from the grate as if it might pull her in.

''Rock, paper, scissors?'' Sarah suggested, glancing at Cleo with a small grin.

The two played a quick round, their hands flying in unison. Sarah groaned loudly as Cleo's triumphant rock crushed her scissors. ''Shit.''

I smirked at their antics and stepped forward. ''I'll go,'' I muttered. ''Wouldn't want anything happening to my sister-in-law.'' The words came out softer than I intended, but Sarah caught them, throwing me a quick look of gratitude.

''The stairway to Hell,'' Cleo remarked dramatically, taking another step back. ''I'll stay up here.'' She waved her hand dismissively.

Pope handed Sarah a flashlight first. ''Miss Cameron.'' Then he handed one to me with a quick nod. ''Miss Routledge.''

''Yell if anything happens,'' he told Cleo before he climbed down into the abyss.

''Like we'll be able to help,'' Sarah muttered dryly as Pope disappeared into the darkness.

Cleo leaned casually against the nearby wall, shooting us a cheeky grin. ''Don't worry. We already got prayed over.''

''For polio,'' Sarah quipped as she adjusted her flashlight and started climbing down after Pope.

When it was my turn, I hesitated for a split second. The hole seemed to gape wider when you were standing directly over it. I let out a breath and began my descent, carefully gripping the ladder's rungs. 

Once I reached the bottom, Sarah was waiting, her flashlight already sweeping across the underground chamber. 

''Coffins. Coffins,'' Pope muttered, his voice bouncing off the walls as he scanned the room with his flashlight.

''Well, this is inviting,'' I murmured, holding my flashlight tightly as my beam landed on one large spider in the corner.

''Yeah,'' Sarah muttered under her breath, shivering slightly. ''Nothing creepy about this at all.'' She adjusted her flashlight's angle.

Pope rummaged through an old drawer.

''Hey, check it out,'' Pope exclaimed, his voice bouncing off the stone walls as he held up a bundle of old Confederate money.

''Confederate money from the Civil War,'' he added, waving it toward us like some prize.

Sarah moved closer. ''That means no one's been down here in over 100 years,'' she murmured, her brow furrowing.

''And Blackbeard was here 150 years before that,'' he remarked, already turning back to the task at hand. ''Keep pushing.''

A chill ran down my spine as I scanned the dark, twisting pathways ahead. The place didn't just look old—it felt ancient, the kind of old that carried secrets and bad luck.

''This makes me feel weird, Pope,'' Sarah admitted as we followed him through the passageway, her voice trembling slightly.

I wasn't about to admit that I agreed, so I stayed quiet, gripping my flashlight tightly as my eyes darted across the crumbling walls.

''Guys, look at this,'' Sarah called out suddenly, pointing her flashlight at a section of the wall that looked different—more deliberate. ''I think they walled this in.''

I followed her beam of light, noting how the bricks were slightly uneven compared to the rest of the structure.

''Hold on a second,'' Pope replied, setting his flashlight down. He reached for a long, rusty rod leaning against the wall and handed his flashlight to Sarah. ''Here, hold this.''

With a grunt, he shoved the rod into the wall, pushing until the structure caved in with a dusty thud. The debris settled quickly, revealing a gaping dark hole beyond.

''Oh. Well, that was easy,'' Pope commented, brushing some dirt off his hands as he turned back to us. ''So, who's going in?''

Sarah wasted no time. ''Nose goes,'' she announced, quickly placing a finger on her nose.

I caught on immediately and mirrored her, grinning when Pope was the last to react. ''Shit,'' he muttered under his breath.

''You two wanna stay out here by yourselves?'' he asked, raising an eyebrow as he gestured to the surrounding catacombs.

I glanced at Sarah, whose wide eyes reflected the low light, then back at the oppressive darkness around us. ''Good point,'' I whispered, trying to suppress a shiver.

Sarah took a step back. ''You still go first,'' she told him, tilting her head toward the hole.

''Ladies first,'' I quipped with a smirk, though it faded quickly when Pope shoved a flashlight into Sarah's hands.

''Miss Cameron,'' he said with mock politeness before gesturing for her to lead the way.

Pope climbed through the opening first, maneuvering awkwardly as he