[ONC '24 SHORTLISTER] When a group of assassins is onto her irritating escort, a happy-go-lucky bodyguard must ensure they survive their trip before his escort's past demons catch up to them.
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No one expected easygoing Aspen Mendoza to be ac...
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White Beach
Puerto Galera, Mindoro
2 February, 10:10
Lucas and I head to the beach.
Not as a date, nope. He went on to explain how compromised we were if we stayed on the train any longer than we could afford to, and that other assassins might still be lurking around. When La Solidaridad finally stopped at Puerto Galera and will be there for the next 48 hours, it was a no-brainer to get ourselves some vitamin sea.
White Beach pretty sums up itself: a beach, with literal white sand. Pristine blue waters lap against the shore, where tourists swim in its calm waves and walk by to enjoy the hot sun. Nearby, a small fleet of colorful canoes sits by the sand, where its local captains are waiting to be paid for a ride. They look small and unstable, but I've seen a bunch of people fit into the boat with no problem. Riding them would be fun, but I don't want to get wet. Not today.
Lucas watches me as I stake the umbrella we rented on the sand. He wears a plain tee over an all-black rash guard suit and a pair of shades, making him look like he can't decide if he wants to go for a dive or something.
By the time I spread the beach towel on the ground and complete the set-up, he still looks at me with the same judgmental look he's given me ever since we met.
I sigh and stare back at him. "What now?"
"Nothing." He waves a hand, which usually tells me that's a lie—it's not nothing. "How come you have a swimsuit in the middle of your job?"
"I packed prepared, duh," I answer. "I'm literally on an overseas trip. How do you expect me not to bring a swimsuit?"
Actually, I never thought I would be using the white, one-shouldered one-piece suit my mom had me bring for the trip. As much as I was excited to use it, first: I was gonna be on the train, no water involved. Second: my trip is not a vacation. I'm supposed to be in serious mission mode.
Well, I kinda had that mindset before this whole poisoning fiasco happened.
"Anyway," I continue, "since we're out here just like you wanted, will you care to explain yourself now?"
Settling under the umbrella, Lucas takes off his sunglasses. He then pats on the empty spot beside him. I sit down.
Luas takes a deep breath. "Where do I even start?"
"You can start with Daffodil," I say. "And Anna. Those gals who you probably know somewhere somehow."
"Right," he says. "Daffodil and Anna—erm, Hemlock are part of this... group called Poison Grove. They're your typical bunch of underground assassins who anyone can hire for the right price. But they can create their own poison from their bodies. It's what makes them deadly and sought after by the black market."
