Prologue - Driftwood

You're driftwood floating underwater
Breaking into pieces, pieces, pieces.
- Travis, Driftwood

On the day they found him it had been cold. Wispy clouds skimmed the iron-gray sky, pushed by a biting wind that brought with it the promise of snow. The people that dared to brave this weather were wrapped up under layers of thick, woolen clothing, hats and scarves pulled close around there faces to block the icy wind.

The boss of the newly founded Tantalus, Baku, sneezed violently. 'Friggin' weather,' he cursed bitterly. 'It's gonna bloody snow any minute now. That's just what we need. Leaves footprints.'

A voice whined to his right. 'B-Boss, can we leave this for another d-day?' The giant man peered down at the eight year old red head beside him.

'No we bloomin' can't! This is an opportunity too good to pass up so quit ya belly aching. The quicker we get there the quicker we can leave.'

The kid, an orphan Baku picked up from the street, along with the older two, Cinna and Marcus, was called Blank. All of them were on their way to 'pick up' some cargo that was being unloaded from a carrier at the port. The bearded man had it from a reliable source that the cargo contained some expensive jewelry worth hocking.

By the time they reached the port the first flakes of snow had begun to peel themselves away from the clouds.

Better get this over with quick, Baku thought with a grimace; else we'll be stuck in the blizzard.

They rounded a corner and spotted the sailors unloading small wooden crates from a carrier vessel. The contents jangled invitingly. Despite the boxes being small, the sailors seemed to be struggling with the weight.

'Must be somethin' rich,' nine year old Marcus observed, excitement tingeing his voice. 'Gold, rubies, sapphires-'

'Silver, diamonds, qu-'

'Quit ya yappin'!' Baku hissed under his breath in fear of being overheard. 'Now, I aint gonna run through the plan again. You guys know what to do.'

They certainly did know what to do.

But they never even got close to the crates.

As Blank edged his way forward toward the unsuspecting sailors he was faintly aware of a thump-thump-thump sound beating with rhythm over the side of the wooden boarded dock edge. Something was banging against one of the legs of the pier like structure. At first he ignored it, thinking it to be a large piece of driftwood, a scrap piece of metal perhaps, but something... call it intuition... said it wasn't that at all.

Blank peered over the edge of the dock.

He wasn't sure how long it had been dead for. It was floating face down in the water, rolling with the waves and hitting the dock leg with a gentle thump-thump-thump. Its hair was matted and its clothes ballooned around its tiny body like a failed parachute.

Blank paled.

'Oi! What the hell d'ya think you're doing?' an angry voice hissed savagely from behind a large crate. 'What ya waitin' for, Blank? Go distract them!'

The little boy shook his head. 'Boss, I think you should -'

'Well I don't think you should think. I think you should get your flaming ass over there before we miss our opportunity!'

'But Boss-'

'BLANK!'

'THERE'S A DEAD KID IN THE WATER!' Blank yelled in frustration. The sailors turned and stared, looks of suspicious unease and confusion swept across their faces. Blank clamped his hand over his mouth. Crap.

Baku launched himself at the red head, yet his face wasn't a thunderstorm like Blank had thought it would be, instead a look of calm curiosity was pasted on his heavyset features.

'Dead kid, you say?'

The heist forgotten, Cinna and Marcus joined him and peered over the side of the dock.

'He's right and all,' Marcus confirmed.

Baku glanced grimly at the floating body before dropping to his hands and knees next to the boys. Leaning precariously over the edge he grabbed the boy by his

(tail?)

leg and scooped him out of the ocean's watery grip. He laid him on his back.

The kid was dead pale, save for the slight tinge of gray and blue to his profile. His lids were closed but the eyes were bulging underneath. He wore strange clothing that clung to his little body in a wet death grip.

Drowned, Blank thought dumbly.

Baku felt for a pulse. Something flickered behind his eyes. He muttered something inaudible but the red head thought he caught the word 'warm'. Before he could acknowledge what was going on his Boss was pumping on the boys little chest with his great hands. He tipped the head back, opened the mouth, clamped the nostrils together and

(!oh!)

blew one long, shuddering breath into the dead kids mouth. The boys watched in horrified fascination as Baku repeated this procedure three times and -

'Ergh...' the dead boy convulsed and water spurted from his mouth. He gulped in large bursts of air like he had never breathed before then choked up more green-gray water. His tiny chest rose and fell sharply, his breath wheezed out of his throat. A clawed hand groped the air frantically, but he did not open his eyes.

Cinna had let out a shrill cry of horror despite himself.

The Boss released a massive sigh and his large frame shook. 'That might save me from the fiery pit for a few more years,' he muttered.

Suddenly, the boys heard a chorus of relieved sighs and cheery exclamations. They turned and saw the sailors ringing them from behind. They shuffled awkwardly and glanced at their Boss for instructions, but he did nothing. The sailors rained Baku with praise, calling the dead

(um, living)

boy a 'lucky dog' and a 'slippery scoundrel'. They dispersed soon after and returned to unloading the carrier.

By unspoken agreement and through inevitability, the heist was cancelled.

It began to snow harder.

They all realized at once the boy was shivering.

'Hm… he aint outta the clear yet. Better get 'im back.'

'Back?' Cinna exclaimed.

'Course 'back', what, you think I'm just gonna dump the kid somewhere after all that friggin' trouble and forget about him?' As he was saying this he unbuttoned his massive, padded over coat, revealing further layers underneath. He then plucked the boy from the planks and pressed him to his chest, the wet hair bobbing just below his chin. He re-buttoned the coat with the half drowned kid inside, his pale face peeping out at the top. Blank got the image of baby monkey clinging to its mommy and hid an inappropriate burst of laughter behind a well-faked sneeze.

'C'mon then. I don't intend to freeze along with this kid.'

The snow had started to settle, powdering rooftops and streets in a virginal blanket. Lindblum's skies were vacant of any air traffic; only fools flew in snow, and by the looks of it, the snow was going to get worse before it got better. Baku's breath billowed out in front of him in white plumes that were quickly swept away by the biting wind.

By the time they reached the hideout - which was quite a long time as the cabs were down ('Snow on the line, mate. Wont be running for the next few days I reckon') - the gentle snow fall had become a vicious flurry, blasting their exposed skin with icy flakes, the wind howling murderously in their ears. Baku concentrated on shielding the half dead boy's face instead of his own.

Flinging the double oak doors of the hideout aside, they bundled in, panting and shivering like they were encased in ice. Cinna slammed the doors shut with a loud thunk.

'Get that damn fire going!' Baku roared immediately. The hideout was so cold they might as well of stayed outside. 'Cinna get some blankets! Blank get the damn kettle boilin'… and stick somthin' edible in a pan and boil it!'

'Yes Boss!' they chimed and darted away.

Alone, the boss carefully unbuttoned his coat. The boy fell forward limply into Baku's waiting arms and murmured something inaudible. He was colder than ice. Cinna was at his side with blankets and he took three of them and wrapped the scantly clad kid from head to toe in them with just the pale beacon of his face peeping out. He was still shivering.

'Got the fire goin', Boss!' Marcus called from the fireplace.

Baku carried the quivering boy to the roaring flames and laid him beside it. The orange hues danced sinuously on his wan features. The bearded man guessed he was about six. Maybe less. Water dripped from the ends of his hair and streaked down his cheeks like tears. His lips were tinged blue and there were dark circles under his eyes.

'Poor kid,' he muttered.

'D'ya think he'll be alright, Boss?' eight year old Cinna inquired, staring dubiously into the child's face.

Baku shrugged. He felt warmer. 'How's that food comin', Blank?' he roared.

'Almost!'

'Are we gonna keep 'im?' The oldest of the three boys asked. He'd curled himself up into one of the blankets like cat.

Baku's giant shoulders rose, fell. 'Dunno. Maybe. He's probably got parents somewhere. Gotta wait 'til he wakes up anyway.'

'If he wakes up,' Cinna added doubtfully.

Outside, the storm roared.

Hope ya liked it!! This chapter was intenitonally short. And the rest of the chapters will be written from a certain half-drowned boy's perspective. Review please!