Back with Shady Ship. This is chapter five. Last chapter, I did a good job at building up on Tucker and Stacie's friendship. I fell in love with that pairing, despite me being the writer.
What we know. The twins are some obvious damn cowards, like Stacie. But Stacie seems to be becoming less dislikeable as a character.
Devon is the only Black character, but he has a revolver. He seems to be obnoxious, but he is fond of Jenna.
Tucker was a coward earlier on, but is starting to be real brave and admirable. He killed the cougar, unlike Jenna and Devon. His compassion showed when he refused Stacie sex at first. It came back after the sex, showing how much he loves Stacie.
Jenna wounded the cougar first, failed to track and kill it, because she was eager to have sex with Devon. Not smart. She was in a rush to send Stacie off, so she could have her own pleasure, forcing her best friend away.
Carlos. He seems to be the character with the least likeability. Barely any time shown. Clearly, he has an obsession with power, which is why he dons the captain's uniform. He intends on finding gold to become wealthy, which ties closely to his lust for power. After he had anal sex with Irene, he seemed to show slight compassion. But Tucker stole his shotgun and ammo. It will be interesting to see what results from that.
Irene. Her dad is in the Italian mafia. Tucker is her best friend. Irene is smarter than most, seeing as to how she knew Stacie was a lesbian and knew the twins were in a sexual relationship with each other. She's eager to survive, willing to sacrifice her friends to do it. And this chapter is all about her.
Remember, each character will have their big hero moment. Some less than others. One or more might have a big villain moment.
All characters in this story are at least eighteen years old.
...
Irene took steps in the ship's section below the floor she had first entered the ship with her friends, on a hunt for gold.
She had heard gunshots, but she couldn't let her friends' safety occupy her mind too much when she had gold to take.
A dining room was close.
Irene took quick steps into it, trained her eyes on the U.S. Navy symbol designed onto a wall.
The metallic table surfaces reflected the glows from the ceiling lights above.
Irene grinned before saying, "I knew this was a Navy ship."
Warm pride spread through her body.
Being right never failed at letting joy sweep through her slim body.
Along with the fact her plan was successful so far, the Italian American had more than enough reason to be joyful.
When she had gold in her hands, she would have another reason to be more happy than expected.
In the kitchen connecting to the dining room, the girl searched.
After opening cabinets and other storage containers, Irene found no gold.
She let loose an burdened sigh, grabbed a jagged knife off a counter before leaving.
At least she had a weapon.
"If Carlos tries to kill me, I'll slit his fucking throat." Irene said, directing her words to no one.
As she took steps with no one accompanying her, Irene had the deep urge to see Tucker again, not just lie under the bed he slept on.
If the shotgun blast she heard resulted in a person surviving a dangerous situation, she hoped that person was Tucker.
She shook her head before scoffing.
Gold first.
Not your closest friend in the universe.
Irene looked under each table in the dining room.
No gold.
On her hands and knees, her knife resting two feet away, Irene made a noise expressing her heated frustration.
"Porca vacca," she said.
Spotting no gold, Irene took her new weapon, left the room with goosebumps that didn't stop erupting across her skin.
If she could snuggle against Tucker, she would be less cold.
Irene trained her eyes on a door at the hall's end.
When she viewed through the narrow window attached to the door, she spotted descending stairs a couple feet in front of the door.
"Okay. Hopefully, that leads me to a place that's golden." Irene said, warm hope coursing through her.
When she descended the steps, she continued advancing into the unknown.
"Hey!" a voice said, sounding muffled, as if the voice's owner stood behind a door.
