Deep Water [OuterBanks]

30: murphy's law

With only a hundred and twenty-eight miles to go, the pieces of South Carolina were beginning to blend together seamlessly. Distinguished with pastel colored homes and greenery for as far as the eye could see, Alana could say with utmost certainty that the southeastern state was vastly different from the Outer Banks. While there wasn't much variation in the aspect of geography, she knew that it didn't have that small-town feel that Kildare had, and that the air didn't carry the scent of the sea on its back. But even then, with all of its mundane novelty, Alana couldn't seem to be able to keep her cobalt eyes from drifting to the sights going by in a slow blur from beyond the backseat window; the sheer feeling of unfamiliarity piquing her interest.

The tires of Heyward's truck emitted a low grumble in the meantime as Pope pushed a steady speed down a two-way street flanked with a canopy of oak trees; the evening sunlight filtering in through their leaves and casting an array of shadows on the concrete road. "Guys, I've read this thing like a thousand times. It makes no sense." Kiara spoke from the passenger seat, the Limbrey invitation resting in her lap as she had her feet propped up on the dashboard. "I mean, these people own, like, half of Charleston. How do they know about a murder on Kildare Island?" Her eyes narrowed with warranted suspicion.

"The exact same way people in Nassau know." Alana casually tore her gaze away from the window, her fingers swiping at the few flyaways framing her face.

"The wanted poster?" Kiara tossed out, shifting in her chair to look at the blonde girl, her face glossy with perspiration due to the fact that the humidity in South Carolina was unforeseeably thick and the truck didn't have any air conditioning.

"Bingo." Alana drummed her fingers along her thigh, beginning to get a bit stir-crazy seeing as they'd already been on the road for five hours. "The whole situation is probably a widespread spectacle by now." She lazily rolled her eyes.

"And why you specifically, Pope?" JJ chimed in, his eyelids low, looking as if he might be nearing his second marijuana-induced nap. "That's the other creepy thing."

"Please come alone? That's hella sus." Kiara pointed out, glancing over at Pope who responsibly had his hands on the wheel at ten and two.

"I was thinking the same thing." He replied, his deep irises not once deviating from the road. "I think it's because—" he began, words falling short as the truck's engine started sputtering and steam hissed out from beneath the hood. "Oh, come on." He groaned.

"What is that?" Kiara abruptly took her feet off the dashboard, sitting forward as the thick fog was now practically clouding the windshield. "Pull over. That's a lot of smoke, even for your dad's truck." She insisted, eyes on alert.

"Pope, I got sensitive lungs, man." JJ dramatically coughed while rolling up the backseat windows.

Alana just shook her head with amusement, finding the statement to be quite the contradiction. "See why we should've taken my car?" She expressed, feeling the truck begin to pull against Pope's steering.