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"๐€๐ง๐ ๐ฐ๐ž ๐ฐ๐ž๐ซ๐ž right outside like this," JJ says to Pope and Kiara as he leans against the wall, his hands moving all around as he recalls what happened earlier that day.

After we got back from Ms. Lana's house, we found Kiara and Pope sitting on the front porch together. So, obviously, JJ decided to tell them everything that happened while we were at Ms. Lana's. Sparing no detail, I might add.

"And all we hear is just, 'Bam! Bam! Bam!' Knocking paint off the wall, G! From the inside. All right? And I'm just looking at Y/n and John B, likeโ€”" JJ pauses, his attention quickly focusing on a new thought. "Wait, first off, look at this shit." JJ comes over to where Kie and Pope are sitting and shakes his head, letting pieces of white paint fall from his hair. "Look at it."

"That's dandruff, disgusting," Kie mutters as she turns her head and leans away from JJ.

"Okay, thank you," Pope says quickly as he shoves JJ away from them, also not wanting to get whatever was in JJ's hair on himself. JJ walks back over to where he was standing beforeโ€”right next to me.

"Look at all that. All right? That's paint. At that point, I was just, like..." he looks up at me first and then over at John B, who's leaning against the wall behind JJ and I. "I'm waiting for death." I roll my eyes and hug my arms around myself. While I know it was a really scarring and traumatic event for all of usโ€”especially JJโ€”he still somehow manages to make it even more dramatic than it already was.

"We were not gonna die, "John B says, smacking JJ on the back of his head as he walks past him and sits on the couch at the other end of the porch. JJ lifts his hand to the back of his head, where John B smacked him, and rubs it.

"Yeah, but we weren't exactly in the safest of situations either, were we?" I say, tilting my head slightly at my brother. He only rolls his eyes, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back on the couch.

"Oh, okay, so you saw the guys that shot at us, right? Did you get a good description of them? What did they look like?" Pope asks hopefully, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.

"Yeah. Anything. Anything that's helpful," Kiara says, agreeing with Pope and glancing at him before looking back at JJ.

"Anything we can bring to a police report?" Pope continues, giving Kie the same glance she gave him.

JJ stands still for a secondโ€”trying to recall what they looked likedโ€”and glances at John B and then me, his eyes lingering on mine. "Burly," he says after a moment. While his answer is actually quite accurate, it definitely leaves more to be desired.

"Burly?" Pope asks in disbelief, waiting for more than just a simple word. I would be saying the same thing if I were in Pope and Kiara's shoes. I mean, how descriptive can the word 'burly' really be?

"Yeah. You know, like..."

"That's not very helpful," Kie mutters as she leans back on her elbow.

"Okay, well, no. Like the type of guys at my dad's garage. I mean, you guys know he made cargo hides for drug smugglers," JJ explains.

"Yeah. Yes. No, we know," Kie sighs. I can tell she doesn't appreciate JJ's description of the men, or lack thereof, but none of us really had a super great look at them anyways. We were all kind of focused on not being seen.

"I can tell you with full confidence, these boysโ€”these killers...they're square groupers," JJ says as he pulls out a juul and takes a long and deep drag on it before holding it out to me. I shake my head, not wanting anything to cloud my head and my judgement, but smile up at him nonetheless. He smiles back at me and moves the juul away from me, lifting his free hand to scratch the back of his neck. The small actions put butterflies in my stomachโ€”butterflies that fly violently and without mercy around my insides. Not particularly caring for the feeling, I mentally catch each one before hiding them away in a jarโ€”safe until I'm ready for them to come out.

"They're square groupers, like narco square grouper? Like Pablo Escobar square grouper?" Pope asks, looking for more details and hoping he can draw it out of JJ by asking more questions. JJ tears his eyes away from me to look at Pope before answering him.

"Yeah, man." Apparently asking more questions doesn't really get much more detail out of JJ, because that's all he says.

"You guys, not everything is a kingpin movie," Kie says as she shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

"Okay, what does this square grouper look like? Specifically?" Pope asks further, still digging for details.

"You weren't there, bro!" JJ says, his voice getting more and more anxious.

"Apparently, you don't know what to look for." Pope and JJ keep getting louder and louder as they continue on.

"Dude! I wasn't taking little mental Polaroids the entire time. I was under duress, okay?" JJ wheezes out. I place my hand on his arm, and his attention turns toward me. As he looks deep into my eyes, he pauses and takes a deep breath before continuing on. "But I can tell you...I can tell you by the way that Ms. Lana was screaming..." JJ breathes out, turning his eyes and attention back towards Pope, "that these guys are serious, serious hombres, man."

Out of my peripheral vision, I see John B get the compass out of his pocket. He stares at it before looking up at me. As he walks over to me, I stand up straighter, no longer leaning against the wall.

"What are you thinking?" I ask when he leans against the wall next to me, my voice just above a whisper.

"I don't know. She said Scooter didn't have it."

"Yeah."

"Then why was it in his boat? It just doesn't make sense. And why were those guys looking for it?" John B says, thinking through his thoughts out loud.

"I don't know. Maybe they thought it was a different compass. Or maybe Ms. Lana thought it was. It might not have anything to do with this one," I point out, although I don't quite believe what I'm telling him.

"It still doesn't explain why Scooter had it, though. I just don't get it."

I pause for a second before deciding to try to change the subject, no longer wanting to think about Ms. Lana's warning to us. "Do you remember what they looked like?"

"Not really. I mean JJ's right. They did look kinda burly."

"Yeah." I nod, closing my eyes as I try to recall any more details about them. "They had dark hair, too. That's all I remember, though." I open my eyes and look up at John B, who's biting his lip as he thinks.

"I just don't get why they would be looking for this," he says, changing the subject back as he shows me the compass. I stare at it for a few seconds, hoping that an idea will come to me. And it does.

"The office," I say suddenly, my head whipping up to look at John B, my eyes wide with discovery.

"What?" John B asks, not yet understanding what I'm talking about.

"You guys, the office," I say to everyone this time as I walk toward the middle of the porch. "Our dad. Our dad's office. He always kept the office locked because he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research." I swiftly turn away from them and walk inside the house. I can tell that everyone is following me when I hear the sound of four pairs of feet shuffling behind me.

"We used to laugh at him like he was gonna find it," John B adds as he walks right behind me.

"Yeah, but now that he's gone, we've just kinda..." I stop in front of the door and breathe a sigh before searching my pockets for my keys, "we just left it as he kept it."

"Yeah, for when he gets back," Kie says, although I know she doesn't really believe it. After a few seconds of my relentless searching, John B pulls his own keys out of his pocket and holds them out to me.

"Yeah," I sigh, glancing up at her through my lashes before looking over at John B. I take they keys out of his hand and whisper a quick thanks before sticking the right key into the lock and turning it. It makes a satisfying click before I turn the door handle and push the door open.

"I've slept over here like six hundred times, and I've never seen this door opened," JJ points out as we all shuffle into the room.

"Here, look. This is the original owner, right here," John B says as he gets a cork board down from the top of a shelf a sets it on the desk.

"Okay. Robert Q. Routledge, 1880 to 1920. There's the lucky compass, right there," Kiara reads aloud as she points to the small compass in the picture.

"Actually, um... he was shot after he bought it," John B says, glancing up at me before looking back down at the cork board.

"Then the compass was shipped back to Henry. He was killed in a crop-dusting accident when he had the compass. After he died, the compass was given to Stephen. Stephen had the compass with him when he died in Vietnam," I explain as I point to each respective picture.

"Let me guess, he died in action, right?" JJ asks as he leans over my shoulder, his breath tickling my neck.

"Sort of," I cringe as I turn my head to look at him, nervous to tell him how he actually died.

"Uh, a-actually, he was killed by a banana truck. In...in country," John B voices, so that I don't have to tell them.

"Anyways," I continue on, not wanting the others to have time to dwell on that last fact. "After that, Stephen passed the compass down to him, our dad," I continue, pointing to the picture of my dad.

Dad. I miss you.

"Hm. Sounds like there's a reoccurring theme here," JJ says, touching his hand to my shoulder before taking a step back, taking his hand away from me. The feel of his hand on my shoulder makes my skin grow hot, and the absence of it instantly makes me feel colder. He doesn't even know about my dream. He can't possibly know the effect he's been having on me, can he?

"Yeah, you have a death compass," Pope states, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"I do not," I say as I look up at him quickly, my brows furrowed and a small pout on my lips.

"You have a death compass," he tries to convince me. I look over at John B for help but he just shrugs his shoulders.

"Get rid of it. It's cursed and made its way back to you," JJ tells me as I take the compass from the table and sit down in the office chair, letting myself pout just a little bit more.

"Look, our dad used to talk about this compartment in here. Soldiers used to hide secret notes." I unscrew the lid on the back of the compass as everyone comes to crowd around me.

"What's that?" JJ asks as he leans over me to get a closer look at the compass, his chest rubs against the back of my head, and I look up at him.

"That wasn't there before," John B says when he sees the word scratched into the metal.

"This is our dad's handwriting," I explain as I look back down at the compass, furrowing my brows in confusion and bringing the compass closer to my eyes.

"How can you know that?" Pope asks, not wanting to believe me just yet.

"Because he does these weird Rs with the... See it?" I say as I point to the R.

"Can I see it?" JJ asks as he reaches for the compass. I hand it back to him before standing up, needing to distance myself from his warmth and close proximity.

"Red... Rout..." he reads out as he tries to decipher what it says.

"It says Redfield," Kiara states simply as she looks over his shoulder.

"Right."

"Okay, well, what's Redfield?" she asks.

"Besides the most common name in the county?" Pope says sarcastically.

"Oh, maybe... maybe it's a clue. Maybe it's a clue to where he's hiding," John B offers, his voice rising in hopefulness and excitement.

"Maybe," I say, wanting to believe it but not quite knowing if I do.

"A clue? Come on, that's..." Pope starts before being interrupted by the rooster crowing from outside, but more importantly, from Kiara clearing her throat. She gives him a pointed look, one John B can't see, and Pope catches onto what she means. "But if it is a clue, maybe it's an anagram?" he says instead.

"Yes. Perfect. Anagram. You need paper," JB says as he rushes over to get a pen and some paper from the desk drawer. "Here you go."

"How can you concentrate with that thing crowing at you?" Pope asks, writing something on the paper as the rooster crows again.

"JJ loves the rooster," John B explains as we all huddle around Pope.

"I love the rooster," I correct as I lean my arm on JJ's shoulder and look down at what Pope' is writing. Even though the simple feeling of JJ's shoulder under my arm, something I've felt thousands of times before, sends butterflies to my stomachโ€”stupid, stupid butterflies, I didn't tell you you could come out yetโ€”I do it anyways in an attempt to act how I normally would. I think it works, because JJ seems unfazed by itโ€”unlike how I'm feeling on the inside. Shut up, butterflies.

"Let me think. Dedfiel. Colors.... That's stupid," Pope mutters as he continues to write.

"What about like, Ritalin?" JJ asks. I purse my lips before shaking my head. "No?" JJ asks as he looks over his shoulder and back at me.

"I don't think so. Um, maybe dreidel? Fiddler?" I suggest.

"Let's stick with what we're..." Pope trails off. "Defile. Does that mean anything to you?" he asks instead.

"Guys," John B says. We all ignore him and continue arguing over how to spell a word when John B yells, "Guys! Somebody's here." We all rush over to look out the window, where a car is now parked. Two guys get out and begin walking toward the front of the house.

"Shit," I mutter under my breath.

"Guys, guys, is that them?" Kie asks nervously, desperately hoping for an answer different than what she knows is coming.

"No," JJ sighs in frustration, lifting his arms up to run his hands through his hair. With the small action, his shirt rides up, and I can see the two lines on his lower stomach that travel down before disappearing beneath his shorts.

My god, he's hot. I mentally slap myself for the thought. Control yourself, Y/n. He's your best friend and that's it!

"How did they find us?" I ask, mentally shaking my head and looking up at JJ's face, my eyebrows furrowing. He gives me a shrug before taking a step back.

"Is that them?" Kie asks again, this time looking at me. I nod my head before backing away from the window.

"This is suboptimal," Pope mutters.

"John B, I told you. Why does it always..." JJ starts, pacing back and forth and clenching his hands into fists by his side. A thought enters my mind, and I pull on his arm so he'll look at me.

"JJ! Hey, look at me." I shove him up against the wall as I put my finger to his lips so that he'll shut up. "Where's the gun?" I whisper urgently.

"Gun? I, uh, I can't...," he stutters as he closes his eyes to remember and leans his head back against the wall, his arms coming up to the same height as his head.

"Now you don't have the gun? The one time we need the gun?" Kiara says as her voice trembles.

"It was in my backpack, and then I..." JJ recalls as he brings his hand to his forehead.

"Your backpack..." I push my finger to his chest. "On the porch."

"It's on the porch. It's..." I take a step back from him before he begins running toward the door.

"Go, go," I urge. JJ quickly walks out the door and heads for the porch.

He only gets a few steps out when one of the guys yells from close to the house, "John Routledge!" JJ slips on the floor as he turns around to run back into the room. He closes the door softly so the men outside won't be able to hear it.

"Guys!" Kiara whimpers.

"Come on out now! F*ck.... Where's the compass?" the man yells again.

"Where's the gun?" John B asks JJ as they both lean their weight on the door.

"They're on the front porch, guys," JJ whispers, his eyes wide in panic.

"Get out here!" another guy yells as the first one yells, "Routledge! Where you at, boy?"

"We gotta leave!" Kie whispers urgently, tears already forming in her eyes.

"Guys, window. Window," I say before all of us but John B rush over to it. As I try to lift the window open, we hear smashing come from outside of the room.

"What... what's happening? Why is it taking so long?" Kiara rambles before I look at her, sweat already starting to form on my brow.

"It's painted shut, okay? I can't get it open," I explain, but continue to lift. JJ comes beside me to help, but even that doesn't do anything. I turn my head around and see John B standing against the door, in case one of the men try to open it.

"Okay, guys. Guys. Here, Y/n here." Kiara hands me a nail file. It's our only hope at this point, so I take it and begin sawing at the window.

"Hey, check the back room," we hear from outside the room. Footsteps get nearer and nearer to the door, causing me to file the window even faster.

"Come on, come on, come on," JJ urges me as he breathes down the back of my neck.

"I'm going as fast as I can," I whisper, my voice a pitch higher as I saw as quickly as possible through the paint.

"Shh.... Be quiet," John B whispers as footsteps approach the door. Pope hurries over to help John B keep the door closed as I shove the file under the window a final time.

"You better not be in there!" a voice yells from outside the door. We all hear the door handle rattle before I wave everyone over to me. Whoever's outside begins kicking at the door, which causes Kie to whimper quietly. Pope and John B run toward me as the door begins breaking. Just as I slide the window open, we hear a gun go off, which thankfully conceals the squeak of the window.

For some reason, the door doesn't immediately open, though. So, I take the chance and climb out of the window. The rest of them quickly follow after me before John B closes the window. I look around my surroundings for an escape and see the chicken coop.

"Guys, come on," I urge before running over and ducking into the coop. When we're all inside, the chickens start clucking loudly.

"Do something, Pope. Shut him up," JJ whisper yells as one of the chickens starts clucking especially loud.

"What do you want me to do?" he asks. As I look through a gap in the wood, I see one of the men start walking toward us, a gun in his hand.

"Pet it, or talk to it. I don't know," I say under my breath as I grow more panicked and urgent.

"You do something," Pope tells JJ instead. As the chicken starts flying around the coop, JJ takes a deep breath before chasing after it. When he catches it, he grabs it around its neck before twisting, making the noise stop almost immediately.

"Oh my gosh," I whimper. I can already feel the tears coming to my eyes and the bile rising in my throat as I try to breathe in and out at a steady pace. John B places his hand over my own and squeezes as JJ mouths, "I'm sorry." I nod my head before closing my eyes, hoping that that'll keep the tears from falling out.

"Ratter! What the hell are you doin'? Let's go." The man loses the to us starts walking away and toward his truck after a moment of hesitation. John B leans over to look through a hole in the wood, his breath labored in anxiety. My lips quiver as JJ reaches his hand out to me. I take his hand and squeeze it before mouthing the words, "It's okay." I lean my head back onto the wood and let the tears finally escape my eyes. Relief floods my body when I hear the sound of a vehicle turning on and the gravel in the driveway being disturbed as the tires roll over itโ€”further and further away from us.








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