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"SHE DOESN'T NEED TO TALK TO THE COAST GUARD. It's a dog," the gang hears as they make their way to a U.S. Coast Guard Hurricane Response tent. Agents and volunteers unpack food and supplies from the mainland, Outer Banks civilians —mostly tourons— wail for help with their anxiety and confusion. "How about the Humane Society?"
John B leads the group of teenagers, he skips towards a crowded tent, while Pope, Kie, JJ, and Marty follow him together.
"He's a diabetic! He's a —he's a diabetic!" They hear as they weave through the crowds of people. John B rolls his eyes as he hears this old white republican-looking couple complains that their dog is missing.
"No, I understand that."
He leans on top of the counter, before yelling at the poor officer —who is combatting too many people at once. "Excuse me!"
When that doesn't work, JJ and Martha come on the other side of the officer, also trying to get his attention. "Hey man, we- we found a boat." "Excuse me."
No one is hearing them past the annoying little whine coming from The Karen. "Please.. my dog is out there somewhere"— and Martha had enough.
"Ma'am, I'm terribly sorry that your dog is missing but will you shut up! He's heard countless times before that it's a diabetic. It's not his job to find your dog. It is your dog! So you go look for it! It's your fault that you let it out in a fucking hurricane!! So bye-bye now!" She scolds the lady, surprising everyone who happened to be listening in the conversation.
JJ smirked proudly. Until the officer yelled at her.
"Hey! Calm down!"
Martha flinched. It wasn't because of the harsh voice but the hand almost hitting her face.
"Hey! Don't yell at her! She's doing you a favor! Why do you let these wannabe assholes walk all over you!" JJ defends, grabbing the officer's arm before it retreats back.
"Woah, JJ," John warns, racing over to separate the brooding blond from the officer with a walkie-talkie. Martha swallows the fear and butterflies and pulls back on his tee, her hands are the ones who calms him down.
He sighs, letting go of the arm, and steals a pen, before taking Martha's hand with his own and walking out of the chaos.
"Well, that went well."
"So, what's the plan?"
"I think I know how we're gonna find the guy who owns the boat." John B states, waving around the motel key in his fingers. Ideas are circling around his head, Marty can see it in his eyes.
"No, no. We don't know whose room that is. It could belong to anyone."
JJ sweeps the keys from John B before dangling them above Martha's eyesight. "I'm in."
