New School

Chapter 12: Ferry Troubles

As we made our way to the port, avoiding main roads and busy areas, I furiously thumbed my phone, realising that Emma had no idea where we were. I told her the situation we were in, about the news bulletin I saw and where we were heading to now. I said thanks for what she had done for me and how she helped me. I told her also to do something to dispose of Joe's corpse in someway, whether it was by burying or burning it, or whatever she wanted.

As we got closer to our destination, I received a reply from Emma, that read: Hey, it's OK that you had to go, I saw the news story as well, I hope you can get away alright and everything will work out for you. Give Conor and Nadira my love.

P.S. Where is Joe?

That last line shocked me, as I confusedly typed a reply detailing where Joe was when I left. Shortly after, I got another text: Joe is not on the bedframe, I thought you took him out and disposed of him already?

Shit. Shit shit shit.

I asked Conor if he had done anything with Joe, but he said he didn't. I heard something behind me, and turning around to inspect it, I thought I was hearing things. I went back to worrying about where Joe was, and I text Emma again, telling her to search her whole house for any traces of where Joe is or where he went. Afterwards, I cleared that situation from my mind, as we arrived at the port.

I knew we were wanted criminals, so simply walking onto the ferry wasn't an option, despite the fact I still had the wallet with €100 to make it possible for us to get on the ferry. We would be immediately arrested, however, so that was out of the question. To my right, I saw cars bundling onto the part of the ferry that carries cars. (well where else would they go) This gave me an idea.

Amidst all the chaos of tourists trying to get their cars onto a boat, us three cunning teenagers on the run from the police sneak onto the boat stealthily and make our way to the cargo area, where we could hide away. While sitting in with the seemingly infinite wooden crates, I felt horrible reflecting on what I had done. Not horrible about murdering three (well, at least two) young boys, God no, I didn't feel terrible about that until much later. I instead felt terrible that I had brought Conor and Nadira into this whole mess I had gotten myself into. They didn't deserve to be with me at that moment, escaping as stowaways on a ferry bound for Wales. My thoughts, however, were pushed aside for a moment, as I spotted a movement in the corner of my eye. Suddenly, there was a loud bang...