SurvivorZ: Grave Harbor

14

STAN

Stanley Deeks had a problem. It wasn't life and death, but it did threaten to ruin his breakfast.

"Where the hell's the can opener?"

He threw open every drawer in the galley of the Jeannie May and noisily pawed through their contents, searching for anything to crack open his tin of beans. In all the excitement back there at the pier, Mitch had packed as much of the canned food as he could, but neglected to bring the one thing necessary to open them. Since the yacht wasn't stocked for overnight cruises, the owners neglected some basic kitchen conveniences that would have simplified things. It was starting to look as though he'd have to get creative.

Dozer groaned and sat up on the sofa serving as his bed for the night. He rubbed his eyes and blearily looked around. Spotting Stan tearing the room apart, he asked, "What's going on? I was trying to sleep."

"Sorry, Donny," Stan replied. "I was looking for something to crack open this damn can."

"You and your beans," Donny smirked. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded butterfly knife, which he then dropped on the table in front of him. "Here. Try this."

Stan picked up the knife and flipped it open. "Thanks."

He placed the can down on the countertop and stabbed the lid. The molasses sauce splashed all over everything, including him.

"Fuck's sake! You fucking asshole can. Goddamn—"

Dozer chuckled at his plight. Stan glanced over his shoulder. Wearing a pair of cut-off jeans and a grey T-shirt with the slogan, 100% Bitch, Patty quietly closed the door to the master suite cabin she and Paige shared last night and came down the narrow corridor with a bemused grin.

Stan sighed. "Aw, fuck this." He pushed the punctured can of beans out of his sight with the knife still stuck in its top. "Do we have any bread left?"

Patty slid into a seat next to Donny. "Good morning."

"Morning, Patty," Donny replied with a smile.

"Morning, kid." Stan dropped into the seat across the table from her. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better than I had in a long while. Must be the rocking of the boat. It put me out like a light."

"Yeah, me too," Dozer agreed. "I'm a little stiff after crashing on this couch, but it was sorta like being in a narrow waterbed."

The door on the right side of the hallway cracked open. Stretching, Rick padded out in a pair of striped boxers and a sleeveless T-shirt. Patty rolled her eyes and looked away from him.

"What's all the racket out here?" he asked with a weary yawn.

"Stan was going psycho on a can of beans," Donny said.

"You and your fuckin' beans, Stan," Rick growled. "I was almost asleep too." He glared at the door across the hall from him. "I don't know what the hell Mitch and the twins were up to, but those buttheads kept me up all night."

"I didn't hear anything," Patty said in her brother's defense.

"In that case, maybe I should bunk with you and your little friend in there. Anything'd beat listening to Sam snoring all night."

"Keep dreaming, Morelli," she snapped.

"You know you're always in my dreams, sugar tits."

She glowered over her shoulder at him. He threw her a kiss, knowing it would get her goat. The scowl on her face didn't disappoint.