VII.   in your arms, I find my peace

Dylan could remember the first time Big John announced that he was researching the Royal Merchant shipwreck. As a kid, she was overjoyed. His interest in the ship got her interested in the ship. She'd come over to the Chateau everyday to ask about it but of course, Big John kept his research private and locked away in his office. Not even Dylan's dad could get anything out of him.

But then Big John went missing and Dylan felt as if she lost a member of her family. He'd been apart of her life since she was a baby. Big John and Logan were best friends. The hardest part was having to watch John B struggle through losing his dad. He stayed with the Jennings family for months. He tried to keep his hope alive but Dylan knew the truth. When a body's not discovered for months it often means they're dead. But John B didn't know that or he didn't want to believe it. So she chose to never bring him up.

Until now when the teens just discovered the compass of Big John Routledge.

When Pope knocked on the door, Braxton answered the door. "Pope!" The twelve year old beamed.

"Hey, what's up, buddy?" He laughed and stepped inside the house.

"You here to see my sister?" Braxton said in a sing song voice, a smirk on his face.

Pope narrowed his eyes. "I am. Everybody's waiting outside." He said and pointed behind him at the door.

"She's in her room. Don't be too long." He smirked again and went to sit on the living room couch.

With a red face, he walked upstairs to Dylan's room. Her room was at the end of the hallway, her name spelled in glittery letters. He knocked lightly on the door, hearing her say a muffled come in. "Hey Dyl,
it's—" he cut himself off when he walked into her room.

Dylan's hair was down with different sea shells braided into small parts around her head. The yellow tank top she was wearing made her skin glow, but she was always glowing. Seeing Pope, she smiled widely. "Hey, P."

"H-Hey," he stuttered and cleared his throat. He stiffed his hands into his back pockets. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah. Just let me put on my shoes." She sat on her bed and slipped on her yellow Chuck Taylor's. As she tied the laces, she looked up at Pope and smiled again. "How're you this morning?" She asked sweetly.

"Me? Oh, I'm great." He replied with a smile. "Did you tell your parents about what happened last night?"

She scoffed and stood up to grab her phone. "No, are you kidding? My dad would actually have a heart attack." She put it in her back pocket. "Mom would keep me on house arrest for like a month. What about you?"

"Better to not let my pops know what happens when we're all together."

She hummed. "True."

He followed her out of her bedroom and they quickly made their way down the stairs. As they were headed to the front door, Pope heard his name. "Pope Heyward!" Logan called out when he stepped out of his office. "I didn't see you come in, son."

Pope inhaled a breath and turned around. "Braxton let me in, sir."

"Of course. How have you been?" Mr. Jennings asked and patted him on the back.

"I've been great, sir."

"You have your scholarship interview coming up correct? How's that going?"

He smiled at the question. "Oh, it's going great, sir. Pops has been keeping my head on straight."

"Good man, your father." Logan told and patted him on back again. "You kids have fun today. It was good seeing you again, Pope. Bring my daughter back in one piece."

Pope blinked his eyes. "Love you daddy!" Dylan called out and grabbed his hand, dragging him out of her house.

John B rolled down the window when he saw them come out of the home. "There's my girl!" He hollered.

"What took you two so long? Checking out DJ's room again, Pope?" JJ teased as they climbed inside the Twinkie.

"Shut up." Pope hissed and slapped him on the back of the head.

"We were outside and all we beat is just 'Bam! Bam! Bam!' Knocking paint off the wall, g! From the inside. All right?" JJ rambled on frantically about their experience at Lana Grubbs's house. "And I'm just looking at him like—wait, first off, look at this shit—"

He leaned over Dylan, who was lounged out on John B's couch, and he shook his head messy blonde hair at her. White flakes fell on her and she cringed. "JJ, what did we say about showering regularly?"

"That's dandruff. Disgusting." Kiara muttered, also disgusted.

"Okay, thank you." Pope said sarcastically and pushed his head away.

"Look at all that. All right? That's paint." JJ told them. "At that point, I was just like. . . I'm waiting for death."

"Oh, okay, so you saw the guys that shot at us, right?" Asked Pope.

"Yeah."

"Did you get a good description of them? What did they look like?"

Dylan gasped. "Dammit, I knew I should've brought my notebook."

"Anything. Anything helpful."

"Anything we can bring to a police report?"

JJ paused and looked outside the window, thinking. "Burly."

Both Dylan and Pope looked at him like he was stupid. "Burly?" The said in unison.

John B cringed at that. "Oh, that's creepy."

"Yeah, you know, like. . ."

Kiara shook her head. "That's not very helpful."

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

"Yes. We know."

"Then I can tell you with full confidence, that these boys, these killers..." he leaned his back against the side of the Chateau and took a puff from his cigarette. "They're square groupers."

"They're square groupers?" Pope repeated in disbelief.

"Like that show Narcos on Netflix?" Asked Dylan.

"Like Pablo Escobar square groupers?"

JJ nodded quickly. "Yeah, guys."

"You guys, not everything is a kingpin movie." Kiara shot them down.

Dylan twirled a piece of her hair that held a sea shell around her finger. "It would be so interesting if it was."

"Okay, so what does this square grouper look like specifically?" Pope asked, getting annoyed.

"You weren't there."

"Because apparently you don't know what to look for!"

"Dude! I wasn't taking little mental polaroids the entire time man. I was under duress, okay!" JJ exclaimed, his voice cracking. "But I can tell you. . . I can tell you by the way Ms. Lana was screaming. . .that these guys are serious, serious hombres, man."

Dylan furrowed her brows. Hombres?

Everyone went quiet. John B took the compass from his pocket and flipped it open, examining it.

"It's a heavy vibe right now, okay? I'm not liking this very much."

"Okay, why would they want the compass?" Kie asked the real question.

"That thing's a piece of shit." Said Pope. "You couldn't pawn it off for five bucks if you wanted to."

Dylan widened her eyes and kicked him in the arm with her foot. "OW!" He hissed at her and rubbed his arm. Once he saw the face she was making, he quickly backtracked. "N-No offense to you, John B. I know it's like in your family—"

"The office." John B interrupted when he came to a realization. "My dad. My dad's office. You remember, DJ?"

She sat up and nodded. "Of course."

"He always kept the office locked because he was worried about his competitors stealing his royal merchant research." They followed John B into the house. "DJ and I use to laugh at him all the time about it like he was actually gonna find it. But now that he's gone, I've just kinda. . . I just left it as he kept it."

"Hey, I always believed he would find it." Dylan pointed out.

Kiara nodded. "Yeah, for when he gets back."

They gathered around John B and watched him unlock the office door. When he opened the door, Dylan sighed. "Gosh, I haven't been in here in years."

"I've slept over here like six hundred times and I've never seen this door open." Said Pope while looking around.

They started looking through the messy stacks of papers on the desk. John B took a cork board off the wall and showed it to them. "Here, look. This is the original owner, right here."

Dylan titled her head and looked at the piece of paper that was push pinned into the board. "Robert Q. Routledge." Kiara read. "1880 to 1920. There's the lucky compass right there."

"Actually, um, he was shot after he bought it."

John B's rooster started clucking in the background from outside. "Then the compass was shipped back to Henry." He added and pointed to a picture of a man. Above it read the name Henry P. Routledge. "Henry was killed in a crop-dusting accident when he had the compass."

Pope and Dylan shared a look from across the table.

"After he died, the compass was given to Stephen. Stephen had the compass with him when he died in vietnam."

"Let me guess. He died in action, right?" JJ guessed.

"S-Sort of. Uh, a-actually, he was killed by a banana truck. In-In country." John B stammered. "Anyways, after that, Stephen passed the compass down to him, my dad."

Dylan made a circular motion with her hands. "I'm sensing a reoccurring theme here."

"Yeah, um, you have a death compass." Pope confirmed.

"No, I do not have a death compass." John B argued.

"You have a death compass!"

"Seriously dude, get rid of it. It's cursed and it's made its way back to you." Said JJ.

"Look, my dad used for all about this compartment in here." John B continued and sat in a chair. He held the compass up to show them. "Soldiers used to hide secret notes."

He unscrewed there back of the compass. "What's that?" Kiara asked, pointing at the object.

"That wasn't there before." He looked at Dylan. "DJ, come look at this."

Dylan hurried by his side and leaned over to see writing engraved in the compass. "Is that your dad's handwriting?" She asked

"It is."

"How can you know what?" Pope asked, still in denial.

"Because he does these weird r's with the—see it?" John B answered and held the compass up.

JJ leaned over Dylan's shoulder. "Can I see?"

Pope looked between them.

"Red—Rout, no, I think that's an a." John B tried reading the word.

"It says Redfield." Kiara stated.

". . . Right."

"Okay, well, what's Redfield?"

"Besides the most common name in the county."

The rooster started clucking again, louder this time.  "Okay, maybe—maybe it's a clue." John B suggested. "Maybe it's a clue to where he's hiding."

"A clue? Come on, that's—"

Dylan and Kiara cleared their throats simultaneously. Pope's eyes widened. "But if it is a clue, maybe it's an anagram?" He corrected himself.

Dylan gasped. "I love anagrams."

John B snapped his finger and stood up. "Yes. Perfect. Anagram. You need paper." He grabbed a piece of paper and shoving it Pope's way

"How can you concentrate with that thing constantly crowing at you?" He asked out of discomfort from the clucking rooster.

John B shrugged. "JJ and DJ love the rooster."

"I love the rooster." Said Kiara.

"Okay, let me think." Pope started and they surrounded him.

"Seriously, think."

"Dedfield. Colors—No that's stupid."

"Maybe he literally means a red field." Dylan suggested.

Pope looked at her and grinned. "That's smart, Dyl."

JJ snapped his fingers. "Flirt later. Brains now."

John B's face fell when he saw a random truck pull up to the Chateau. "Guys."

"You're missing a letter." Kiara ignored him and continued with Pope.

"Guys! Somebody's here!"

It gained their attention. Dylan looked out the window and her eyes widened. "Who is that?"

The group gathered around and looked out the window. Two guys exited the vehicle and they recognized them as the men who shot at them. "Guys. Guys, is that them?" Kiara questioned and she started to panic

JJ shook his head. "No."

"Is that them?"

"This is suboptimal." Pope muttered.

"John B, I told you man. Why does this always—"

"JJ, hey, look at me." John B interrupted and grabbed him by the arms. He pushed JJ against the wall and held his finger up. "Where's the gun?"

"Gun? I, uh, I can't—" JJ stuttered.

"Now you don't have the gun. The one time we need the gun?" Kie stammered with fead.

Dylan's wrapped her arms around herself and she started paced around the room.

"It's in my backpack, and then I—"

"On the porch."

"It's on the porch." JJ repeated. He exited the room swiftly and headed toward the porch.

Dylan paused her pacing and started biting her nails.

"John Routledge!"

JJ quickly ran back into the office and shut the door behind him. "Guys!" Kiara exclaimed and she grabbed Dylan's arm.

"Come on out now!"

"Where's the gun?" John B whispered.

"They're on the front porch, guys." JJ muttered back.

"Get out here!"

"Routledge!"

"We have to leave!" Dylan whispered shouted and clutched Kie's arm.

"Guys, window! Window!" Kiara ordered and Pope and JJ ran to the windows to open them.

"Sack this place!" Dylan could hear the men trashing the living room.

The boys grunted, not being able to open the windows. "What—What's happening? Why's it taking so long?" Kiara stuttered.

"It's painted shut, okay?" JJ hissed.

John B kept his back to the door, blocking it. Dylan rushed to his side and pressed her back against the door.

Kiara looked around the table for something to pick the paint off with. "Okay, guys, here."

"Come on, come on, come on." JJ hurried her.

"I'm going as fast as I can!"

Dylan, John B, and Pope quickly shushed them. The door knob started to jiggle, making her cover her mouth to keep from making noise. "You better not be in there!" One of the men shouted. He began kicking the door and caused the wood to break.

Pope grabbed Dylan's hand and dragged her away from the door. "Guys, hurry!" She rushed Kiara and JJ.

"Okay, we got it!"

One by one, they helped each other climb out the window. "C'mon, DJ." John B said quietly and grabbed the girl's hands, helping her jump down.

"Where do we go?"

Pope looked around in search. He pointed to the chicken coop by the tree. "There!"

They ran to the chicken coop and ducked to climb in. Their presence caused the rooster to start going berserk. Dylan sat in the corner wall and exhaled shaky, fearful breaths.

"Do something Pope. Shut him up!" JJ hissed in a panic state.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Pet it. T-Talk to it. I don't know!" Kiara responded, her voice breaking for being scared.

"Guys, be quiet!" Dylan shushed them, holding her finger up.

The clucking continued and she knew if it didn't stop, they would be caught. She brought her knees to her chest and started heaving. Her hands began to shake.

Pope came and sat beside her. Her wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "Just breathe. It's okay." He whispered. He glanced at JJ. "You do something!"

JJ chased the clucking rooster and grabbed it, holding it down. Before she knew it, he snapped its neck. Dylan accidentally choked on a cry and she quickly covered her mouth. Tears burned her eyes.

"Ratter. What the hell are you doing? Let's go!"

Once the sound of truck ignition turned on, Dylan started crying. She laid her head on Pope's chest and huddled her face in his shirt. His hand rested on the back of her head.