The Marine I'd sent upstairs returned, ledgers pressed against his chest. Three others followed, carrying loose papers and canvas bags of berries. One had a crowbar tucked under his arm.
"Under the floor in her office," he said when I looked at it. "Three compartments."
He set a sealed list of names on top of the books. I broke it open while Mallor came over, and we spread the papers across a table dragged out from the stores. The sergeant read the first few entries without touching them. By the bottom of the page, he'd pulled out a chair.
"How long?" I asked.
"These go back months."
"And who helped?"
He looked towards the men by the wall. One lowered his head before Mallor reached him.
"He collected the payments. The quartermaster controlled the stock. Lieutenant Pask signed the medicine refusals." He tapped one of the entries. "That's the dockmaster. I didn't know he was taking a share."
"What did you know?"
Mallor's hand rested on the table's edge. Behind him, a Marine stopped trying to arrange the papers he was carrying.
"That people were afraid to complain. That she kept asking for more money. I told myself I didn't know enough about the arrangement to interfere."
"You had a baton over Toma's head."
His hand tightened against the wood. "I know."
For a moment, I wanted to keep going. Then someone called Toma's name from the gate, and the kid turned so quickly he nearly dropped his bundle.
His mother pushed past the people outside and caught him in both arms. She was saying something into his hair. I couldn't make it out, but he started crying as soon as she touched him.
I looked back at the table.
"Sort out who gets tied up and who gives statements. Keep the records where the townspeople can see them."
Mallor nodded.
"And tell them I've run out of patience with anyone trying to leave."
"I think they noticed."
Fair. The bloke by the far gate was still being carried in.
...
For the next hour, Shellstown's Marine branch became the most traumatised accounting office in the East Blue.
Mallor had more tables brought out, then put men to work matching payments against the bags from Vale's office. The quartermaster sat beside him with the stock records, explaining entries he apparently hadn't expected anyone to read very closely.
Medicine came out first. The crates were opened in front of people from town, and someone fetched a medic to deal with the requests already coming through the gate. After that came food and the first payments back to the families in the ledgers.
I stayed near the tables, mostly so the quartermaster would stop reaching towards pages he hadn't been asked to turn.
Nobody cheered. Some stupid part of me had apparently been waiting for that, or at least a thank-you from someone who wasn't shaking while they said it.
The old man I'd seen arguing with Vale came through with his hat in his hands. He stopped beside the food sacks, listened to Mallor and asked where he should put his name. When I moved to give him room, he stepped away from me too.
Right. Message received.
Toma and his mother left with the medicine as soon as she'd checked he could walk. I caught sight of them at the gate, his hand buried in hers. She looked back once. Toma kept his face turned into her side.
I hadn't expected a parade. I just would've liked the kid to look a little less convinced I was going to eat him.
Mallor came to stand beside me after they were gone.
"They're afraid," he said quietly.
"Thanks, Sergeant Emotional Intelligence."
He sighed. "I'm telling you why they're keeping their distance."
"Yeah. Got that." I waved him off. He let it sit. Across the yard, two Marines had covered Vale with a sheet and were waiting beside her for orders. Her boots stuck out beneath it.
"They can see the medicine coming out," Mallor said. "They saw what happened to her too."
"Her ledgers are right there."
"I know."
I folded my arms. "You planning to arrest me?"
"No." He looked at the injured men outside the infirmary before answering. "The Marines will come for you though"
I knew that already. Hearing it said while the evidence was spread across three tables still managed to piss me off.
Vale had taken their money, denied them medicine and ordered her men to shoot a kid. We'd found the records. We had witnesses. Half the branch sat by the wall, waiting to explain their part in it.
I'd also killed a Marine captain in front of all of them. I doubted the report would spend much time on what she'd been doing beforehand.
Hell, they could put me in the racket too. Petty Officer Kai Voss, trusted little errand boy, murdering his superior to hide his involvement and fleeing with stolen supplies. I'd spent days walking in and out of her office. Plenty of people had seen that.
"You need to leave," Mallor said.
"I know." I glanced at him.
"Soon, Kai."
He looked tired. Still couldn't quite meet my gaze for long. But he'd said my name without a rank attached, and for some reason that made it harder to come up with something snarky like I normally would.
"Medicine first," I said. "Keep it coming. And their money goes back."
He nodded. "We're matching the payments now. Some families won't have receipts."
I watched a woman count the berries she'd been handed, moving her lips as she went through them a second time.
"All of it, Mallor."
He nodded. "All of it."
I took my hands off the table. "I'm taking supplies."
"And a boat?"
"Would make leaving easier. Some berries too."
He rubbed his forehead. "Leave the repayment money alone."
"I was going to."
Mallor looked at me for long enough to be insulting, then called two men over to fetch food and water.
While they sorted that out, I found a black leather ledger among the books in Vale's office. The first few pages listed payments, but further in there were shipment dates, ports and names I didn't recognise. Several entries had little marks beside them.
"This one's coming with me."
Mallor put a hand on the open page. "We need those records."
"Then copy what you need."
He considered arguing, glanced at the other books and called a clerk over. I waited while the man copied the entries relating to the branch. After that, I wrapped the ledger in a spare shirt and put it with my supplies.
Somewhere in those pages were people who'd been paying Vale. Might be useful to know their names before they learnt mine.
...
I left the branch before sunset, wearing clean trousers and a borrowed shirt that didn't fit across my shoulders. Someone had found me a basin, though getting the blood out of my hair had taken more water than I'd expected.
I couldn't go home first. I'd already spent too long in the yard, and Mallor was getting increasingly insistent about the boat being ready. I kept imagining Mum opening the door and asking what had happened to my uniform. Dad would want to know why the Marines were looking for me.
I'd see them again. Soon, preferably before whatever report came out of this had them thinking I was dead.
Two Marines carried my supplies down to the dock. Water, biscuits, a few apples and bandages, which seemed a little optimistic after the afternoon I'd had. There were some berries from Vale's personal effects too, kept separate from the money being handed back in the yard. I took those on Mallor's word and tried not to think too hard about how she'd paid for anything she owned.
The ledger went under the food sack.
Then I saw the boat.
One tiny wooden rowboat, two oars and a bench that didn't look ready for the responsibility being placed on it.
"Be honest, Mallor. Do I look like I'm about to start an era?"
He looked at the boat, then at me. "Sit in the middle."
Brilliant. Glad we were all feeling inspired.
The two Marines put the supplies aboard and retreated up the dock. Mallor stayed beside the mooring rope while I worked out where my legs were supposed to go.
"I'll tell them what happened," he said.
"Make sure you keep copies of those records."
"I will."
I glanced back towards town. People were still heading towards the branch, some carrying baskets and others helping men who'd been hurt. From here, I couldn't see the yard at all.
"They'll ignore you anyway."
"They might."
Mallor bent to loosen the rope, then stopped with one hand against the post.
"I'm sorry."
I looked down at him. "For Vale?"
"For waiting until today to do anything."
I let out a breath and watched the water moving between the boat and the dock. There wasn't really anything nice to say to that. "Yeah. You should be."
He nodded and finished untying the rope.
I stepped into the boat. It rocked immediately, forcing me to crouch with both hands on the sides while Mallor steadied it. I had survived being shot apart and was now being humbled by a floating bench.
He passed me an oar once I'd managed to sit down.
"I don't know what they'll call you in the report. Or on the bounty."
I breathed through my nose. "Probably something stupid."
"Give them less to work with next time." I looked up at him. He held my gaze, and neither of us said anything for a moment.
Then I pushed away from the dock.
The boat drifted out slowly enough that leaving felt a bit awkward. I wrestled the oars into place and got moving before either of us could think of something else to say.
Mallor lifted a hand. I waited until there was a respectable amount of distance between us before waving back.
Barely counted. Don't make it weird.
...
Three days later, I wanted a crew.
The dreams and found family could come afterwards. Right now, I needed someone else to row.
I could pull the oars for hours without my arms giving out, which sounded useful until I realised that meant I had absolutely no excuse to stop. The view never changed enough to justify the effort either. I'd been staring at the same patch of ocean since breakfast, and it was starting to feel personal.
By the third morning, I was lying across the bench with an arm over my eyes, wondering whether drowning would be more embarrassing than choking on a grape. At least the grape had been quick. That came after three days of being sun-dried.
Something landed on my stomach.
I sat up too fast, sending the boat lurching. A newspaper slid into my lap while I grabbed both sides and made several noises I would deny under oath.
When the rocking stopped, a news bird was perched on the edge beside me, wearing a little hat and carrying a bag.
"How the fuck did you find me? I don't even know where I am."
It held out its money pouch.
I looked past it at the empty horizon. Three days without a ship, but apparently newspaper delivery was doing fine.
"Do all birds work for Morgans? Blink twice."
The bird pecked my hand. It didn't hurt, but the attitude was outrageous.
"Bro, I'm broke."
It leaned towards the berries beside my food sack.
"Fine. Jesus."
I fished out a coin and dropped it into the pouch. The bird lifted off before I could ask for directions, leaving me alone with the paper and a fresh grudge.
"Bird DoorDash," I muttered. "Of course."
I opened the newspaper across my knees. Pirate movements, shipping notices, some noble wedding taking up far too much space. I skimmed past a photograph of a man with a ridiculous moustache and shook out a folded sheet caught between the pages.
It landed face down in my lap. I turned it over and found myself looking back.
My eyes looked a little wild, and the grin did very little for the defence. Could've picked a worse angle, admittedly. Definitely wasn't LinkedIn material.
Kai Voss. They'd spelt it right, at least.
Then I read the rest.
"BRANCHBREAKER"
DEAD OR ALIVE
฿50,000,000
…
End of Chapter!
Word Count - 2079