Storm & Silence | FANFICTION

05. Camping Specialities

Lilly

Rikkard and I were after Dalgleish yet again, but this time, we had a long way to go to get to him. He was eleven hours away in South America; we were in London. But now, we were settled in the Patagonian Desert.

I've only been on a couple of trips with Mr. Ambrose, all of them being more than anti-climatic. With guns to blood and cuddling to kisses, every trip I take with my boss can take a lot of twists and turns.

Who knows how many miles away we were from Dalgleish? I mean, we were here to stop him from taking advantage of the treasure that wasn't his. What if he was secretly watching us? Better yet, pointing a gun at us, and we didn't realize it? The whole thought of it sent shivers down my spine. I couldn't even think of Mr. Ambrose getting hurt— or me.

"Mr. Linton?" My boss had grabbed my attention from next to me. He sent Karim to fetch some wood to make a fire. It was quite frigid out here.

Bundled up in only my tailcoat, I turned towards him, "yes?"

He was crouched down in the sand, not phased by the freezing weather, "we resume our search by six tomorrow morning,"

I sighed and rolled my eyes, "we have been at it for days, Mr. Ambrose, don't you think we should have a day of rest?"

It is true. Usually, it wouldn't take this long to resolve our conflict, but since we have no way of tracking down Dalgleish, it took us longer than usual to get to his nearest location. Every day we walk in this desert, with hardly any water and food. I felt repulsive, and I bet he did too. My hair stayed gathered in a lousy bun. I didn't even bother putting my top hat on. My fingernails were growing long, and every day it felt like a bazillion degrees. We were torturing ourselves, and only I recognized it. Mr. Ambrose, on the other hand, stubborn as he is, refused to waste his time resting.

He glared at me, his feet kicking in the sand, "are you insane, Mr. Linton?"

I gave him a puzzled look, "what?"

"We are not weaklings, well at least two of us aren't, we don't 'rest,'"

I stopped fidgeting with the sand with my fingers and glared at him, "who are you calling a weakling, Sir?"

A cold scoff came from his mouth, which made my anger deepen, "claims the one who insists we need a break,"

I turned my full body to him, still sitting, legs crossed, "there is nothing wrong with wanted rest, Mr. Ambrose! Why is it that anything that doesn't require working seems weak?"

"No man quits, Mr. Linton, you need to act like one," he didn't look into my eyes.

"Pfft, like what? Like a man? Or an actual human with decency and feelings?"

Now his whole body turned to me, "I believe you are making this a bigger deal than it already is, Mr. Linton,"

I rolled my eyes, "me? All I asked was for a day of rest after our seventh day of nothing but walking, and you turn it into a sexist view,"

His eyes narrowed, and he mumbled lowly, "I still question why I ever hired you. A woman?" He scoffed lightly, "too emotionless, so weak, so-"