When Myles had arrived on this coast almost three years ago now, bitter and owning nothing but the clothes on his back, he had thought that was rock bottom.

  Since then, he had worked a few jobs and moved around a few towns. Shipwreck Village was the latest of those, and while its old, wind-beaten buildings and rough-and-tumble residents weren’t features most outsiders found welcoming, Myles didn’t mind them. He was actually starting to grow accustomed to life there.

  It had been by accident that he had caught sight of the date in a week-old newspaper and realized what it meant for him- what day he hadn’t even noticed that he’d missed.

  Perhaps that was when things had started to go wrong. His current circumstances were just the culmination of the series of bad decisions he had made since then.

  The point of the knife dug harder into Myles’ back. The man in front of him repeated himself. "I said, hand over your cash and any other valuables you have."

  When Myles had seen two thugs drag a young girl into the dark alleyway, he had moved after them without thinking. Apparently that had been their intention because as he passed into the shadows, one of them had pulled a knife on him.

  Now, the girl held out her hand, no longer appearing distressed, and one of the men dropped a couple of coins into it. She glanced at Myles curiously from underneath a tangled mop of black hair before running off and pocketing the money.

  Myles couldn’t see the man behind him, but the one who had spoken wasn’t much to look at. The black mask he wore pulled over his face had holes cut out for the eyes but did little to hide his long auburn hair. If he was trying to avoid being recognizable, Myles thought that he should have at least opted for a cloak over top of his clothes. Instead he wore old jeans that were a distinctive red color, and- was that his gang symbol tattooed on his arm in full view?

  Myles raised his hands slowly up in the air. He was still holding a flask in one of them. It seemed to catch the eye of the man in front of him, so Myles shrugged and held it towards him in an offer. Maybe he should have been angry at him, but all he felt was drained.

  He could only imagine what the people back home would say if they could see him now. He let out a short, empty laugh at the thought.

  Apparently his assailant didn’t like that because he kicked the bottle out of his hand. Myles glanced down in dismay to watch the contents pool onto the ground. What a waste.

  "You think this is some kind of joke?” The man spat as he spoke. “We'll kill you. Don’t you understand that? Empty your pockets, now!"

  Myles looked down at himself. He didn't have so much as a watch or a wallet on him. The booze had been the only thing that he was holding worth anything at all. That it was gone was the cherry on top of his bad day.

  Where they thought Myles might be hiding something, he didn’t know. It wasn’t exactly like the black t-shirt and faded gray trousers he wore left a lot of room for valuables.

  Myles stared at the bandit for a few moments unsure of the protocol in this situation. He finally spoke. “And if I don’t have anything to hand over?”

  The man’s eyes flashed with anger, before he stepped closer to Myles. He roughly patted him down before he took a step back with a curse.

  “Are you kidding me?” He looked past Myles to address his partner with the knife. "You idiot! Can't you even pick a target that's actually worth anything? What are we supposed to do with him now?"

  The man behind him had a deeper voice. "I don't know? Should we find someone else?"

  "Don’t be dense!” The red head was speaking with his hands now, clearly getting worked up. “He'll go straight to the soldiers if we let him go and we can't exactly grab two people at once."

  Myles was starting to think that these two had to be the worst criminals that he had ever seen.

  The man with the knife addressed Myles then, his words punctuated with a sharp reminder of the threat digging into his back. "You're coming with us. Keep your mouth shut and don't try anything, got it?"

  Myles let out a sigh, but he allowed the two men to lead him further towards the outskirts of town.

  Maybe if this had been a few years ago, he would have easily disarmed the man holding the knife.

  But Myles was tired.

  As they ushered him down the backstreets, he stared off in the direction of the docks. His thoughts turned back to that little girl’s wide eyes. He had really thought the panic in them had been real.

  Nobody needed him to be some sort of knight. That couldn’t be more clear.

  The covered wagon they took him to was parked in a dark corner at the very edge of the village. There had still been a number of daylights brightening the streets in the area they had come from, but the only light out here came from a single one of the circular devices hanging over the town gate. It looked like it hadn’t gotten enough sun during the day, because it was only half lit. The meager illumination it provided did little to combat the dark on such a cloudy night.

  They kept the knife on him as they tied his hands together with a cheap rope and herded him into the back of the wagon. While the wooden door closed and locked behind his back, Myles glanced around at the metal bars that had been hidden by the cloth cover.

  One of the thugs was talking to the other. "It's like I told you- everyone's tough until you pull a knife on them."

  Myles sighed and lay back against the sidewall, staring up at the ceiling above his head. Their voices continued to carry to him, even as they made their way to the front of the cart.

  "Well, what do we do now? Go find another target?"

  "No time. We've got to get out of here. I think someone may have seen us coming out this way."

  The wheels began to rattle beneath him as they started to move.

  Where were they planning to take him? He supposed it didn't matter. He'd take a nap for a bit. Maybe when the alcohol wore off he would decide to stop feeling sorry for himself and figure out where to go next. He closed his eyes and let himself drift off.

  When Myles woke it was to the sound of a voice calling out from outside. It took him a second to remember where he was and why he had a headache- the men who had taken him hadn't exactly left him a canteen of water for his hangover when they had thrown him in here.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  The heat and the light coming in through the cloth roof above him implied that it was likely around mid-day. He wondered if they were stopping.

  "Hey!" He didn't recognize the voice, but it was coming from outside. “Hey! Are you guys going somewhere? You've got a cool cart!"

  What was Myles listening to? A cool cart? It was an old and dingy prison wagon. Even the oxen pulling it had seen better days.

  Whoever it was wasn’t done. "Say, you wouldn’t mind if I ride with you for a bit, would you? I've been walking all day."

  "Um... Hello?" That was the voice of one of the drivers. "You want to come with us?"

  The answer was a cheerful one."Yep!"

  Myles was close enough to hear the two whisper among themselves.

  "What do we do?"

  "Well he did come straight to us."

  "Maybe he's got cash on him too that we can take?-"

  Whatever the bandit was going to say next was cut off by the sound of the newcomer speaking up once more. "Say, do you guys have any food? I'm hungry!" There was a pause and Myles imagined the drivers exchanging a glance.

  "You have any money on you, kid?"

  "Nope!"

  The bigger one made a sound of frustration. "Just our luck."

  There was the soft thud of someone being elbowed in the side and then the red head spoke in a low voice to his partner. "Don't be dense. This is our lucky day. He practically asked us to take him." The man spoke louder. "Yeah, we've got some food. You've just got to get in the back of the wagon."

  "Really? Great!"

  Myles almost smacked himself in the forehead. Whoever this was was clearly an idiot. He realized too late that he probably should have shouted out and warned him away or something.

  He watched as the wooden panel in the back swung open, and a young man leapt straight inside with a huge grin on his face. It didn't even fade when the door was slammed closed and locked behind him.

  He looked around the small space, eyes going right past Myles. Without even a pause, he walked all the way to the back and started digging through the crates that were there, frowning slightly at whatever he found.

  "Hey! I thought you said there was food back here?" He called the words loud enough for the drivers to hear.

  The wagon started moving underneath them again and it threw the newcomer off balance. Somehow he managed to flip all of the way over his head as he tumbled to the floor.

  "Sorry, kid!” One of them called back to him. “I meant to say that there's food where we're going. So just sit tight back there, alright." The other one let out a mean laugh.

  The newcomer frowned. "You mean there's no food back here at all?" He lay back dramatically on the floor with all four limbs spread out. "Drat." He closed his eyes for a minute. "We'll be there soon though, right?" He called out in a louder voice.

  "Sure we will! We'll be back at home base in no time."

  "Well, then that's great!" With that, the big smile was back. And then it was turning on Myles. "Hey! Are you a part of their crew too? This shade feels great!"

  Myles was speechless. Did this stranger seriously believe the obvious lies the drivers had been telling him? A quick once over told him that he had to be even younger than Myles, and as he had just come to appreciate, he himself was only eighteen.

  The kid was a bit greasy and dusty, but they had picked him up on the road so he supposed that was no surprise. It was his presence itself that was strange. Myles didn't know exactly where they were, but they had to have made it a decent way from the town if it was mid day now. Who traveled alone and on foot in the middle of nowhere?

  When Myles spoke, his voice was rough and his tone dry. "No, I'm not with them. You know you're locked in here right? They're kidnappers." He shook his head.

  The newcomer laughed and gave him a look like he was the one being dumb. "We're on the road, and we're going on a trip. It's a road trip! Now all we need is snacks."

  "They were obviously lying about the snacks. They're not taking you anywhere to eat."

  The boy wrinkled his brow. "That doesn't even make any sense. If we aren’t going to get food, then where else would we be going?"

  "They're probably going to try to sell you and make some cash. I told you, they're criminals."

  "Hey, just because someone's a criminal, doesn't mean they're a bad person!"

  Myles opened his mouth as if to try to answer that, and then closed it. He leaned his head back against the wood grain and closed his eyes.

  "So, does that mean that they're not your friends?" Myles opened one eye back up and saw that the boy was tilting his head at him in question.

  He held up his bound wrists. "Why exactly would I be locked in the back with my arms tied if they were my friends?"

  The kid shrugged and scratched his head. "Dunno. Fashion statement?"

  Myles was officially done with this guy.

  "Well if they're not your friends, why are you still here?" Was the kid dumb? Myles gestured with his eyes between his hands and the bars, highlighting the obvious without saying anything. "You look pretty strong," the other boy continued, completely ignoring the unspoken message. "Strong enough not to let someone else decide for you. So what do you want to do?"

  Myles didn't know what to do with a question like that. He met the boy's stare, and there was something unsettling about it. The boy looked at him as though he was searching for something, and Myles didn't know what he could possibly hope to find. He looked away.

  There was a brief pause and then the boy spoke again. "If you don't want to be with those guys out front, then we should just bust out of here right now."

  "We can't just 'bust out of here'. Those bars are metal."

  The boy just grinned at him, unfazed. "Of course we can!" He might have been about to say something else but his stomach growled loudly enough for even Myles to hear it. "But I'm actually thinking maybe we should wait until we get there and eat first."

  "Stop saying 'we'. And I told you. They were lying about the food."

  "Of course they weren't lying. You think they have a home base without any food? That wouldn't be a base at all."

  A bird tweeted outside, and the boy seemed to get distracted by it, staring up at the top of the wagon as if trying to see through the cloth.

  He was distracted enough to forget about Myles briefly, and managed to stop talking for a few minutes. Myles started to relax again.

  "Do you think we're there yet?"

  Myles cracked his one eye back open. "Do you ever shut up?"

  Myles closed his eyes and began the effort of ignoring the newcomer and his continued running commentary. They sat there together like that for a while longer before the cart rolled to a stop and they heard the drivers disembarking and walking away.

  "Finally!" The boy's stomach growled so loud that even Myles could hear it. "I'm so ready to eat!"

  Myles had been content to stay where he was until someone showed up to let them out, but the boy who was with him had no such patience. He watched through eyes that were only half open as the stranger marched over to the wooden door and shoved at it a few times.

  Myles shook his head at him- it was locked. What did he think he could do?

  Myles expected him to give up and sit back down, so his eyes widened when instead he pulled back his fist and spun it around in some aggressive wind up before punching the crap out of the door next to where the latch was.

  There was a loud bang, but the door didn’t budge.

  “Ooaaaoooh,” The boy let out a bit of yelp of pain as he jumped up and down, aggressively shaking out his hand.

  Myles blinked a few times at the spectacle, utterly speechless. Even more surprising was when the boy recovered after a moment and resumed his stance as if to try again.

  He reached out to adjust his aim to a slightly different spot, pulled back his hand, and then slammed it much harder, straight through the wood plank. When he pulled his fist back out, Myles couldn’t help but look in between him and the hole he had just put in the door with his eyebrows raised.

  Maybe the kid had a plan after all, he thought, sitting up unconsciously. He watched and waited expectantly for him to reach through and unlatch the door.

  Instead, Myles watched him pull back his fist again and punch another hole next to the first one. And then another. And then four or five more until there was a large enough gap in the broken planks for a person to just barely fit through. Myles looked at his hands and saw that his knuckles were split open and bleeding, but the boy seemed completely unbothered.

  Instead, he stood there with his hands on his hips looking proudly at what he had accomplished before he turned back to Myles with a big grin.

  "Come on! Let's go!” He said as he launched himself out the back.

  When Myles followed, leaping out after him, he told himself it was just because there was nothing else to do anyway.