Chaos Will Take You Everywhere

Prologue

"So, where are you headed?" the man across her asked. There was barely any light illuminating the back of the truck they were sitting in, but it was enough to make out his silhouette.

Since she had thought she'd never get to leave the prison, she hadn't given this matter any thought. Right now, they still were in Russia, so she'd need to choose a country she could reach without having to set foot on a plane since she didn't have a passport and had no idea how to forge one. She knew she had been to Finland, Latvia and Lithuania shortly before the disaster happened, but she couldn't recall any memories connected to those countries. Whenever she tried to, all she could think of was the violent roar of the waves around her, mixed with desperate cries for help that slowly died out one by one, turning into deafening silence.

She took off her headband, clenching her fingers around the freshwater pearls to force herself to focus on the present. "I don't know, I haven't really seen a lot of Europe before I was locked up. And going back to the States is a terrible idea, given all that has happened."

"You're the Cruise Killer, aren't you? What was it again? O'Connor?" the man wanted to know.

"Flannery O'Connor," she replied. "Yeah, I guess that's me. Although it wasn't on purpose, the whole thing was a huge accident."

"Look, I don't really care whether or not it was an accident, a few dead bodies don't faze me," the man said. "I've been with the Port Mafia for years. Comes with the job."

Flannery raised her eyebrows. "The mafia? So that's why you've got so many people coming to your rescue. Should I be scared?"

"Quite the opposite. If you don't know where to go, I could be of help," the man spoke. "Come to Yokohama with us."

"And do what? Join the mafia?" Flannery scoffed. "The last thing I need right now are more criminal charges on my list. I just want to lay low and live a quiet life."

"You're going to need protection for that," the man interjected. "Isn't your ability crazy dangerous? They'll be looking for you all around the globe."

"It's not a safe one to use, yes," Flannery replied, unwilling to divulge any more information about her ability at this point. "So you're saying you'd suggest joining the mafia for protection."

"That would be one option, yes. Of course, I won't force you to, there's no use in recruiting people who'll only prove themselves as disloyal," the man said. "I'd help you flee to Yokohama regardless of whether or not you'll join the Port Mafia."

Flannery put on her hairband again, having been sufficiently distracted from her thoughts by the conversation so that she didn't need its comfort anymore. "What's in it for you, though? I won't join the mafia and I won't lend you my ability. What could you possibly get out of helping me flee?"

The man simply smiled. "Not everything has to be an exchange, O'Connor. Sometimes, you do things just because you want to."

"Alright, it's not like I've got that many options to choose from anyway," Flannery consented to his proposal. "But I swear, if you turn up on my doorstep in a few years and demand my service, I won't be a pleasant person to deal with."

"I promise this won't have any negative consequences for you. This is just me helping out a fellow escapee," the man assured her. "Although you might want to get into contact if your ability really is as unpredictable as they say."

"With you? What could you possibly do about that?" Flannery asked, cursing herself for having given away that her ability was in fact a very unpredictable one.

"Not with me," the man clarified, "but with one of my fellow mafiosi, Chuuya Nakahara. He's got quite the dangerous ability as well, one that can barely be controlled in its true form."

Flannery tried to study the man's expression, but it was too dark for her to see. "You surely are convinced you've got me all figured out despite not knowing anything about me or my ability."

"I know that it's powerful enough to sink a whole cruise ship, that's enough for me," the man retorted.

Flannery laughed humourlessly and leaned her head back to let it rest against one of the crates behind her. "Alright, you win this one. Maybe I'll contact him. Let me ask you one thing, though: why are you so intent on helping me? You met me today for the very first time."

The man smiled; his voice suddenly melancholy. "You remind me of someone I should've helped but didn't at the time. I'd like to think this is what she would've wanted."

"Did she die?" Flannery wanted to know, not really caring about whether that was an appropriate thing to ask in her situation.

"Worse. One day, she just got up and left," the man answered.

"How's that worse than dying?" Flannery wondered. "At least you know she's still out there."

"You're still young, so you might not think the same way," the man responded. "In death, you don't leave another person's side willingly. But in her case, she simply got up one day and decided to leave me. To me, that's worse because I know I did something that caused her to leave."

"I guess I can see where you're coming from, but I'd still prefer the latter case for all the people I lost," Flannery admitted. "At least there'd be the possibility of reuniting with them someday. You know, you've got some pretty philosophical views for someone who's with the mafia."

"Age teaches you a lot, even as a mafioso," the man remarked. "Or maybe especially as a mafioso, who's to say."

"Heads up, police checkpoint," the driver of the truck warned them through the walkie talkie that was lying on the floor between them.

"Alright, end of conversation for now," the man concluded, getting up to open one of the crates. "Come on, hop in."