CHAPTER 4
Matthew
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows as the soldiers marched through the narrow, cobblestone streets leading to the port. The sound of our boots echoed against the buildings.
I walked in the middle of the formation, flanked by other soldiers who moved with a confidence I couldn't bring myself to emulate.
The air was thick with the scent of salt and smoke, mingling with the aroma of freshly baked bread from a nearby bakery. Merchants shouted from their stalls, their voices rising above the din of the market.
As we neared the familiar port, the streets became busier, filled with fishermen hauling their nets and dockworkers loading heavy crates onto waiting ships.
I felt nauseous just by catching sight of the silhouettes of vessels against the horizon, their sails billowing like the wings of great birds ready to take flight.
“Keep in step!” barked commander Roberts as he marched ahead. Each stride felt heavy with the weight of my armour, and I could feel my palms growing clammy as I thought of the vast ocean that awaited us. That awaited me.
As we reached the port, the sight felt overwhelming. The docks were alive with activity, as per usual—ships bobbing gently in the harbour, sailors shouting orders, and the unmistakable creak of wood against wood.
I paused for a brief moment, taking in the scene. The sun glinted off the water, casting a shimmering path toward the horizon. Other units had arrived too, but I failed to spot Theo or Stryker amongst them.
Theo. I hadn't been able to stop thinking about the boy since the first time I'd met him and he'd done that odd shotgunning thing on me.
It had definitely taken me by surprise, and then Jack had cornered me about the sharp smell of weed, which he had been oddly delighted about and that frustrated me more than anything.
He was beautiful, though. He had those blue eyes that I'd always found kind of creepy on other people because they always seemed like they were looking straight into your soul, but Theo's did that in a good way, in a way that made me yearn for more, yearn for him to look even harder, to keep looking for as long as he wanted to.
He was tall- standing a few feet shorter than myself- had curly hair, sharp features, a tiny birthmark on his cheek and I could have sworn I'd seen freckles.
And there was something about him that intrigued me, that had kept my thoughts on him since that day.
And now he was convinced that I was gay.
Which...I was. I hadn't told anyone, of course, and it had taken me the longest time to come to terms with my sexuality and just accept myself for it.
I couldn't tell anyone or I'd be dead, that was the scary part.
So it was daunting for Theo to have found me out like that.
Even worse that I was lying awake at night praying that he was, too.
“Oi, Matt!” Jack nudged me with a grin, snapping me out of my reverie. “You with us? We’ll be boarding soon. You zoned out.”
I nodded, forcing a smile despite the knot in my stomach. “Sorry.”
"I especially asked for a bucket." He informed me.
I winced "thanks," I grumbled, not feeling much better about it at all.
Together we approached the gangplank of a sturdy ship with a tall mast and billowing sails.
Its wooden hull was painted a deep blue, adorned with colourful flags that flapped in the breeze.
I could see the crew with sun-kissed skin and rugged attire-busy preparing the ship for departure. I shuddered, swallowing convulsively.
The salty breeze whipped through the air and the scent of fish mingled with that of tar.
I watched as the military units -veterans clad in their armour- milled about.
“Hey, Matt, you ready?” called out a burly soldier who I recognised as Todd, clapping me on the back with enough force to nearly knock the wind from my lungs. I managed a nod, though my throat felt tight.
"I'll rub your back." Jack whispered in a terrible attempt at lightening the atmosphere, reading the look that must have been plastered onto my face.
I limited myself to giving an exasperated sigh.
“Come on, lad! No time to dawdle!” commander Roberts' voice interrupted. With a deep breath, I stepped onto the gangplank, the wood creaking beneath my feet.
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, a drumbeat of anxiety as I took in the sight of the open sea beyond the ship's railing. The water glimmered under the sun, but all I could think about was how I'd be spending the rest of this trip.
“Secure the sails!” shouted the captain, a tall figure with a weathered face and a commanding presence.
I watched as the crew fumbled to follow the orders, grasping the thick ropes.
As the sails caught the wind and the ship lurched forward, I fought the urge to retreat to the safety of the dock. The salty spray of the sea splashed against my face as the ship sliced through the waves and the nausea already began rolling in my gut.
Jack cleared his throat from beside me “we can go below deck soon. We have rooms, I think.” His voice was tinged with sympathy.
I nodded slowly “are we all on different ships?” I asked.
Jack shrugged “probably. There’s too many of us for just one and we all have two different tasks to deal with.”
“Right. True.”
Jack hummed “you’ll be fine. Come on, I think we’re room 28.”
We descended the stairs that lead below deck and Jack began searching amongst the numbers painted onto the wooden doors for ours, me following behind him.
“Here it is.” Jack announced, pushing open the creaky door to the cabin and stepping inside.
I cringed slightly as my eyes scanned the cramped space which didn't make me feel any better.
There were two narrow bunks stacked against one wall, a small wooden chest and a lantern squeezed in between.
The air was thick with the smell of saltwater, wood and tar.
The wooden hull creaked and groaned as the ship rocked gently on waves.
I swallowed hard, trying to distract myself and take in the wooden beams and the rustic furnishings.
Jack stripped off his armour and flopped down on his bunk.
I grimaced “I think it was better up on deck.”
“Probably, yeah.” Jack smiled, evidently with no intention of getting up. I stayed standing.
His smile faded. “go up there if you want. I’m probably gonna stay and have a nap. Headache."
I knew what that meant. All we needed was one of Jack's migraines.
"No, I..." I pulled myself up onto my own bunk and sat on the edge of it.
"Matt, if you feel worse down here-"
"Zip it, Jack. I'm good."
He fell silent.
I spent the next half hour lying on my bunk and staring at the ceiling, arm curled around my queasy stomach.
The ship hit a wave and I sat up straight, heaving in a deep breath, trying to fend off my impending sickness.
I settled on resting my head in my hands and my elbows on my knees, trying not to panic.
"Matt." Jack's voice mumbled "you okay?"
"I-I don't..." my stomach was twisting uncomfortably.
"Hey." He said sharply "bucket's there. You can go up on deck if the wind helps any-"
"Screw that. Too many people." I groaned back. I'd prefer to save myself the embarrassment.
Jack didn't reply; he did, however, kick the bucket over.
I stayed deathly still, eyes squeezed shut; my abdomen was contracting in waves. I hated this. I couldn't have been unluckier to end up with commander Roberts who had absolutely no
empathy for anyone. Why make someone suffer through this? As if I was essential to this-
I convulsed subtly, shoulders rising and falling faster as I began to panic, throat closing into a gag.
Jack didn't move. He didn't speak. But it was safe to say he was submitted to two hours of listening to me get sick. I'd never been more relieved for a journey to be over.