Chapter 11
Gunner
“There’s your lady, Snake.”
Gunner looked past Horatio’s outstretched finger and saw a strange vessel in the far distance.
Moored away from shore, the hulking mass resembled a chrome-dipped pirate ship.
The only part that wasn’t metal was the flag flying high above the crow’s nest. Gunner smirked at the white skull and crossbones emblazoned across a field of black.
“There’s my baby!” Snake’s expression turned dreamy. “The largest and most technologically advanced ship in the universe. Gunner, meet The Frances.”
“The Frances,” Gunner repeated, barely containing his awe.
“Onward, lads. We’ve got a fully stocked bar waiting for us.”
“Sounds good to me.” Gunner pulled a dry leaf from the rip in his jeans, feeling grubby and unglamorous next to Horatio and Snake. “I wish I brought clothes so I could change.”
“The grubbier you are, the happier the crew,” Snake said. “Gives them a chance to unleash their makeover skills.”
Snake and Horatio exchanged knowing glances.
“Makeover? What does that entail?”
“About two hours. They unleashed their powers on me, too.” Horatio tugged open his shirt. “That’s why I’m lacking so much body hair.”
“They do prefer their meals clean-shaven.” Snake winked at Horatio.
Gunner stopped and stared at his companions’ backs as they continued toward the ship. “I need to know what I’m in for!”
Horatio yelled over his shoulder. “If it was something bad, I wouldn’t take you there.”
When they reached the water’s edge, Gunner craned his neck to view the ship. The silver Goliath was at least three stories high, with eight gigantic wheels barely visible beneath the murky shallows. “She has truck wheels?”
“The Frances can cruise on land, sail on water, and create portals big enough to drive through.” Snake pointed to a never-ending ladder. “This will take you up on deck. When we’re in deep water and the weather is nice, we take her sailing. My favorite way to travel.”
“Sounds cool. Can we go up there?” Gunner asked, anxious to see every bit of the ship.
“Maybe tomorrow.” Snake gestured to the darkening sky. “We should get inside before the bats come out to feed.”
“Bats?” Gunner asked. “Let me guess. They eat your pancreas?”
“Nope.” Horatio held a clawed hand in front of his mouth. “They can attach their mouths to any exposed skin and suck your blood. They’ll only let go if you hit them with fire.”
Gunner pulled his T-shirt up over his neck. “Can we board now?”
“Let me take care of these guys first. Crip crabs. They must’ve smelled us coming.” The shallows teemed with tiny creatures. Horatio played a chord, and they croaked. Watching them float belly-up left Gunner feeling sick. “I set my guitar to annihilate for these motherfuckers.”
Snake took off his boots and pants and carried them in a bundle while he waded bare-assed into the water. He flipped open a tiny door, revealing a keypad. After a series of blips, a hidden panel slid up while a small ladder slid down. Horatio stripped in the same fashion and headed for the door.
“Why did you guys take off your pants?” Gunner asked.
“The crew hates when our boots drip on the carpet. Fussbudgets, the lot of them.”
“Friendly word of warning: the Humerians will carve you up and serve you for dinner if you piss them off, so be cool,” Horatio said.
“I can be cool.” Gunner stripped and tiptoed into the frigid water, gritting his teeth as dead crabs brushed his knees. “Ew. Icky dead things.”
“Do what I do. Pretend they’re rubber duckies.”
Still chuckling over Horatio’s comment, Gunner climbed the ladder. Snake pressed a button, and the outer hatch closed. A light switched on overhead. The room was slightly larger than an airplane bathroom and reeked of seawater.
“Welcome to my ship, Gunner.” Snake punched in a code on a larger keypad and then peered into a lens that scanned his eyeball with a red light.
“Hello, Snake.” A feminine robotic voice filled the space as another door slid open on the other side of the room. Lights turned on.
“Whoa!” Gunner’s jaw dropped.
Beyond was a welcoming foyer, with upholstered benches and a basket teeming with folded towels.
Horatio hung Gunner’s guitar on a peg next to his own and set his backpack on the floor.
Once they’d dried off and dressed, Snake used yet another keypad that closed the back panel and opened another at the front of the room.
“Holy shit, Snake. Your security system is better than the one at NASA.”
Horatio nodded. “After you see what he has stored on this boat, you’ll know why.”
Snake led them down a hallway lined with a dozen or so black doors, each adorned with an engraved silver plaque. Tastefully decorated, Gunner imagined The Frances rivaled the finest five-star hotel.
“The ship is vast and confusing to newcomers, but a mind as keen as yours shouldn’t have an issue. This is the second floor, where the boys bunk. The engine room is below and the cockpit above. Horatio can give you the full tour later.”
“Is there a kitchen?” Gunner’s midsection rumbled.
“We not only have a kitchen, we have Stiles, an award-winning chef.”
“A top chef, but a power bottom.” Snake snickered. “Here’s the elevator. If you ever get lost, hit the intercom. I’ll tell Sugar we’re on board.” He pressed a button and spoke into the tiny speaker. “Sugar? You there?”
“Where else would I be?” The voice sounded bored, and a lot like Batman—raspy, with a slight Chicago accent.
“I have a challenge for you, if you choose to accept it. We’ve brought Gunner back with us and he’s in dire need of a makeover. What do you say?
“Challenge accepted.”
Snake grinned. “Just made his day.”
“You guys were serious?”
Horatio and Snake burst into laughter.
“Oh sure, haze the new guy,” Gunner muttered.
They headed up in what was probably the slowest elevator in existence.
Gunner popped a weak boner when Horatio nudged him up against the elevator doors and asked if he wanted to make out.
They were still kissing when the doors opened.
Gunner fell out and landed on his back, and when he looked up, a breathtaking, epicene male stood over him, cock and balls clearly visible through an opening in the front of his trousers.
“Are you going to lie there all night?” he asked, emerald eyes as sharp as daggers.
For the second time that day, Gunner prepared to die.