Deep Water [OuterBanks]

03: party crashers

Even after the group returned from the motel, Kildare's pier remained busy; specifically with its own inquisitive youth. Only this time people weren't arguing about trivial matters like ruined boats or diabetic dogs. Scooter Grubs: The Cut's very own unkempt shore rat had been found dead and washed up at the Mason Outlet. Alana observed from afar as a total of four paramedics lifted the man onto a gurney. His body was swollen and blue from the water and she could even see the skin beginning to peel away from his hands and face.

"Scooter!" The victims wife Lana Grubbs ran across the eroded dock and over to the gurney. Alana continued to watch expressionlessly as the brunette woman cried over her husbands dead body, caressing his cold face. Memories of her own mother came rushing into her psyche like a freight train; Raina Kessler's heart-rending scream reverberating throughout the perimeters of her mind.

"You good?" JJ stood beside her as she sat atop of a vacant bar along with John B. Lightly, he ran his fingers over the top of her hand. 

"Mm-hm." Alana hummed, laying her head against his bicep while using her opposite hand to fidget with one of Kiara's dark curls as she sat on a cooler in front of them, a look of uncertainty evident in her honey eyes.

"Check out this pic I got." Peeler: a girl they knew from school insisted from beside John B. "It's insane." She extended her arm, showing the five Pogues a close up of Scooter's corpse.

"Holy shit." Pope commented, his features twisting in disgust from the opposite end of the old bar.

"What kind of boat did he have?" JJ questioned, hoping for a different answer than the one he was about to receive.

"Somehow, that dirtbag copped a brand new Grady-White." Peeler disclosed with a shrug. "Everyone's out looking for it." Alana's eyes remained on the creaking wheels of the gurney as the four paramedics rolled it into the ambulance vehicle, slamming the doors shut.

• • •

The Pogues spent seventy-five percent of their time at John B's place, or The Chateau as his dad: Big John liked to call it. It was an old fishing shack off the marsh, freshly equipped with a leaky roof and memories from a childhood long gone. Alana could remember the hours she, JJ, and John B spent after school sitting in front of his boxed television in the living room, watching fifteen minute episodes of Tom and Jerry and drinking Kool-Aid jammers. The blonde haired girl shifted on the beige patio couch, picking at a loose thread on her low cut denim shorts. They had been sitting on John B's porch for five minutes, no one saying a word, yet they all managed to be thinking the same thing. They were in Scooter Grubbs' motel room. And they stole his money and gun.

"Okay. We don't know anything." Pope frantically broke the silence, gaining the attention of his four friends. "We need to have total and complete amnesia."