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This page, The KidVegeta Anthology/Blue Wolf, is property of KidVegeta. |
Blue Wolf was the earliest Dragon Ball era story idea I came up with for Somewhere Between The Ocean and The Bottom of This Glass, so it was the first finalized idea overall. It's an epilogue to Wolfe's plotline in Chasing Oblivion. I had at some point or another in 2019 or 2020 decided to make Wolfe a POV character in the as-of-yet unstarted Crimson Shores (as of writing this commentary in the spring of 2022). Later on, I changed my mind and removed him from the story altogether. However, I wanted to delve into what I had him and his crew doing in those outlined POV sections. He still did try to become a pirate in the southern islands, and I wanted to explore that to a minor degree. The main goal here was to resolve the arcs of the few remaining members of Wolfe's gang and the lingering plot threads between Wolfe/Doc and Wolfe/Thoras, and being able to develop and write in the area that will be the main setting of Crimson Shores was helpful from a world-building perspective.
It was the sixth story initially drafted, being completed on January 15, 2021, one day after the first drafts for No Second Chances and Every Turtle Has His Day were completed. During the finalization phase, the writing for those two stories went much easier than this one did, even though I did completely re-write Every Turtle Has His Day. Considering it was such a short story, that wasn't a big deal. When the same had to be done here, that was a much bigger headache. While preparing to finalize this story, I grew immensely dissatisfied with it. So, I wrote out a new outline and then re-wrote it, starting on October 1, 2021. By then, six other stories of the "first thrust" of my posting of this collection had been finalized. Only this one and Feeding Time remained. The outline is as follows:
scene 1: off the south coast of amenbo island, they take over a police boat after it pulls over another boat, killing everyone on the ships and stealing loot; they find a map to umihebiza and set off for it
scene 2: they don't meet anyone until arriving at hosomaki; they go to ohano's pub and relax for a while as they prepare to seek the treasure; they fail to recruit anyone to their cause; that night, thoras tries to poison wolfe, but fails, and wolfe kills him
scene 3: on the way out (olivia didn't come with them), they prey on a fishing ship and then a cargo ship; the cargo ship is run by the New Red Ribbon Army, however, and the fight goes poorly, and wolfe has to dive overboard lest he be killed by ol metaljaw
scene 4: wolfe, in ohano's, considers searching for which guy took olivia home; he decides against it, and with thoras' betrayal on his mind, he decides to return to south city and maintain his banditing ways on dry land
That morning, I wrote a new version of the first scene. The next day, I banged out the second scene and a little bit of the third before going to bed. Waking up later that night, I wrote out the remainder of scene 3 and all of scene 4, finishing at 9:05 pm. I did two more drafts of the story on October 4th before finalizing it.
This was written as if it were a Chasing Oblivion chapter with the only exception being the minimalistic prose style that was utilized throughout the collection. Because this was second-drafted and finalized as the seventh of fifteen stories, by this point I had gotten in the groove of writing in the collection's style, and so that was not going to be changed. I re-read all of Wolfe's sections in preparation and looked over some other sections he was in as a secondary character and tried to thematically align this story with CO. For example, the opening scene mixed comedic and dramatic moments in an attempted Chasing Oblivion style.
Sealing the fates of Wolfe's gang members was important to me. I didn't want anyone alive to know of Yamcha's time with the Wings (not counting victims) sans for Wolfe, Lychrel, and possibly Olivia. Thus, everyone else had to die one way or another. Olivia's fate was something I was unsure about in general, and I'll discuss that more in the endnotes below. Both Thoras and Doc betrayed Wolfe in Chasing Oblivion, and it felt wrong to not resolve either of those, even if a good ol' nihilism theme is evoked in such a case.
I expect this is the last time I shall write about Wolfe, so this may be goodbye to that character. If that's the case, he wasn't the worst one. Let's dive into this story for the last time.
Story[]
They waited until after the police boat pulled up to the sailboat to make their move. With its mast bare, the ship was adrift at sea some thirty-five miles southwest of Amenbo Island. From here, it wasn’t even a dot on the horizon. Wolfe and his Wings had pursued the sailboat for the better part of a day in an inconspicuous gillnetter. The police’s arrival had been unexpected, but they could handle it.
Minutes later, they sprung upon their prey. The seven bandits climbed onto the police’s unattended speedboat, hardly making a sound. In the distance, agitated voices were rising over the water. Thoras and Kershew joined Wolfe in pressing forward. The others remained behind, their pistols drawn.
Delicately, they snuck onto the sailboat, crouching low, hugging close to the fiberglass wall. Everyone had gathered at the back of the boat. As the bandits approached them, their voices became clearer, and Wolfe realized there were only two policemen. He pointed for Thoras to go around the other side of the boat, and he did. We’ll hit ‘em from both sides. That man was the only other bandit from the old days, from before Wolfe had taken over the gang. The two of them had great synergy.
“It’s nothin’ officer, nothin’. I’m fine.”
“We can smell alcohol, sir.”
“Just beers, nothin’ serious. I swear.”
“A boat’s just like a hovercar, sir. You can’t dri–”
“Beers ain’t do nothin’ for me no more! I can drink twenny o’ them and feel fine.”
“Can your wife bring you guys in tonight?” the other officer asked.
“Oh her? Her? She’s a miserable old bat. Ain’t worth nothin’ outside the sheets.”
“Shut it, Umberto! That’s not nice. If you don’t have anything nice to say–”
“She’s a c*nt. I apologize, boys,” the man said, his voice slurring.
“Sir, you can’t bring this ship back into the harbor after drinking that many beers.” He kicked a pile of cans on the ground.
At the same time, Umberto’s wife began to scream. “What?! What?! What?! Call me a c*nt?! You call me a c*nt?! What? You pig fucker! Call me a c*nt? Asshole!”
Wolfe whistled and they rounded the corner, coming face-to-face with their prey. The police were standing next to Umberto, who was swaying against the back rim of the ship, his face sweaty and sunburnt. His wife was bundled up in a quilt in the corner nearest the old bandit, shouting obscenities, her marble-white fist raised in the air. She’s shaped like a barrel.
Thoras took out the officers before anyone else could get a shot off. In the commotion, Umberto stumbled off the back of the boat and fell into the ocean. Casting aside her quilt, his wife jumped to her feet and sort of stampeded over to the railing. Wolfe came up behind her, pressed his pistol to her skull, and pulled the trigger.
There wasn’t much loot, aside from some food and booze (which Wolfe appreciated). Umberto’s screams were barely audible. Thoras and Sarmon took the officers’ bulletproof vests, not to mention their pistols and ammo. Olivia found a map of the Red Sea (to the south) hidden in a false panel in a wall. Someone had circled Umihebiza, the island located furthest south of the six in that sea. Next to it, in sharpie, was written: S.C.’s treasure. Detailed instructions had been left below on where to precisely locate the treasure on Umihebiza.
Her green eyes met his, and she raised an eyebrow. He drank a gulp of Red-Eye whiskey (this was his last bottle, and it was nearly empty), buying time. He shrugged; they whooped. They set out for Umihebiza in their fierce little gillnetter, sinking the other boats on their way out. Umberto’s screams had long-since ceased. As nightfall approached, Phillippo turned on the headlights, and he felt invigorated. It had been a while since Wolfe had been on a mission of such promise.
Since leaving Diablo Desert some three months prior, his crew had pilfered their way through the southern continent. They had always been on the run from the police. Amenbo Island was the furthest southern location before those islands in the Red Sea, and even there the Wings had been on the run. Perhaps in those remote, far-off places, there wouldn’t be any such attention to the law. A bandit could dream.
The Red Sea was a barren place. For three days, they sailed south. It grew colder and the waters grew choppier; they never came in sight of another boat. Sarmon and Thoras used the gillnets to snag a swordfish on the second day. Olivia and Doc played cards (Sarmon and Thoras joined them sometimes) out on deck, while Kershew and Phillippo spent most of their time by the wheel. As that was the only area of the ship with walls and a roof, Wolfe found himself in there more often than not.
Thoras had been in the gang longer than Wolfe. Doc had been around for maybe thirty-five years. Olivia had been in the gang since she had been sixteen–twelve or so years. Kershew and Phillippo had been with him for eighteen months. Sarmon, too. He didn’t want to get to know them. There would be plenty of new recruits in the Red Sea islands. Soon the Wings’ ranks would swell again, and he would only need to know his lieutenants, like in the good old days.
Umberto’s tequila wasn’t half-bad. Wolfe went through a bottle a day. The others were given a bottle of rum and a half-empty box of wine to hold them over until they arrived in port. No one else drank like he did, so they had enough rum for every day of travel. He liked feeling drunk. It made looking at the map more fun. It could be bullshit, but in the end, if the map led nowhere, they could still prey on the few vessels in the area before returning to Amenbo Island. One way or another, he would get his plunder.
It was evening when they pulled into the port of Hosomaki. The island’s lighthouse had not yet come on. It was a cool night, clear, the sky streaked purple and orange. The last of the fishing ships were pulling into shore. There was no one to greet them (or charge them) at the dock, so they found some rope, tied the boat to the planky bridge, and came ashore. The nearest building was the two-story Ohano’s pub (大波野•居酒屋). Nobody needed convincing. Zeni from South City lined their pockets. They would be drinking well that night.
Maybe twelve people were inside. Dated music blasted from a jukebox. Most patrons were playing pool, or darts, or watching sports on the television. They reeked like fishermen do, and they were getting absolutely hammered.
Wolfe was not one to police his crew. They dispersed and ordered whatever they could afford. He bought a plate of bluefin tuna sashimi and some whiskey and began to eye the natives. One or two might join the crew. Thoras and Doc played pool with three of them, while Kershew ordered a bottle of rum. Olivia, sitting innocently at the bar, had already attracted some guy over to her. No doubt, she was going to scam him out of more than just drinks.
It took three drinks before he grew bold enough. Unfurling the map, he called over the bartender, Mr. Yasahiro Ohano, saying loudly, “And I have this map here tellin’ me there’s treasure on Umihebiza Island…”
“Ah, the island of the Skinchangers. The treasure of a thousand pirate hordes is said to be buried deep in the jungles of that place, guarded by demonic skinchangers. That is an ancient legend in these parts, traveler.”
“S.C. for skinchanger, eh?”
Ohano peered down his hooked nose and nodded. Wolfe ordered another drink. Nobody would join them now. The locals were fishermen and farmers, not pirates. They wouldn’t have much worth raiding. Olivia and her victim had retreated to a booth and sunk low in their seats. Wolfe joined Doc and Thoras at the pool table. He ordered more whiskey, and won some games, and Thoras didn’t seem too pleased to have been beaten so many times in a row.
They got drunker, and rowdier, and soon, Sarmon and Phillippo were throwing darts at strangers. Mr. Ohano kicked them out, so they spent the night at the island’s only inn, the Sea of Clouds Onsen (雲海•温泉), splitting the cost for three rooms. Thoras shared his. Though Olivia hadn’t come back with them, Wolfe wouldn’t punish her. However, he expected her to return to their boat in the morning.
A full moon had risen over the water; a salty breeze blew into the cove from the deep ocean, bringing with it a blistering chill. He finished his chicken karaage while sipping on whiskey (he had bought a bottle from Ohano). Tomorrow, he would try a different strategy. Maybe there was treasure to be found on Umihebiza. It was unlikely they would be the ones to find it. He needed to know, on average, how much the local boats had on them, and if raiding would be profitable.
Wolfe returned to his hotel room to find Thoras huddled over the table where he had laid his things. At the sight of his boss, he scampered back to his side of the room, pretending nothing had happened. The television came on, and he tried, in vain, to focus on it. He had been too clumsy in his drunkenness. The liquid in the Red-Eye whiskey was still sloshing about. Heat flashed in his cheeks as he grabbed the neck of the bottle and pointed it at his first mate. “Poison? Of all people, Thoras? From you… Why?!”
His upper lip quivered as he scowled. “I didn’t do anything, Wolfe. You’re drunk. You’re seein’ things.”
“What did you put in my whiskey, you rat fuck?”
“Hey! I’m no rat!”
“Answer me, Thoras.”
“Nothing!”
“Then take a drink.” He tossed him the whiskey.
“Nah, I’m done for the night. Come on, Wolfe, go to bed. We’ll find the treasure in the morning.”
Thoras handed the whiskey back to him. Wolfe took a deep breath. He wanted to squeeze the man’s neck so hard his eyes popped out. He had never thought Thoras would be capable of this treachery. He had known the man for decades, had trusted him with his life…
“Drink the whiskey.”
The old cook pretended to reach for the bottle, let it slip through his fingers and shatter on the floor, and when he looked up, he realized Wolfe had seen through his act.
The morning was bright and cold. He had a headache.
“Where’s Thoras?” Doc asked. The others were walking to the dock.
“Fucker tried to poison me,” Wolfe growled. “Don’t tell them about it.”
“Sure thing, boss. What about Olivia?”
“What about her? If she’s not on the boat, she doesn’t get any loot.”
“More for us, heh,” the bearded man said.
“She’ll come crawling back eventually. Or maybe she’s found her one true love.”
Doc snorted, and they joined the others at the gillnetter. It was close to eight in the morning. The fishing ships had long-since left the harbor. Some would be dozens of miles out in the open ocean by now. He preferred to catch his prey before it wandered off too far. They left at a brisk pace.
He sucked on a bottle of rum and wondered if they should go to Umihebiza. After some banditing. The gang’s spirits needed lifting, and there was no better way to do that than by reaving. As they came out of the cove into the deeper water, Sarmon spotted a cargo freighter making its way towards them.
“Won’t find an easier hit around these parts,” said Doc.
Kershew agreed. “Think of how much shit is on there… we’ll be rich. Whaddya say, boss?”
Wolfe was indifferent. A part of him had died the day he had been forced out of Diablo Desert, his gang in shambles, nearly broke. Alcohol had been his most reasonable companion since then. He’d spent most of that time in a harrowing blur, his emotions tempered by being constantly drunk. If they were to die today, so be it. If they were to gain a magnificent haul, so be it. Until he was back home, any victories were bittersweet.
“Still have those grappling hooks?”
“Aye, boss.”
“Good. That’s our way in.”
The gillnetter sped towards a ship fifty times its size. Wolfe cracked his knuckles, downed the last of the rum, and found his rifle. “No prisoners,” he said to them. “No mercy. Take whatever you find.”
They clambered overboard, leaving Kershew behind to man their escape craft. It was raining lightly on deck, and there were no signs of life. Wolfe whistled for them to storm the second-story bridge. Doc and Phillippo went up the left staircase, while he and Sarmon went up the right. When they drew near, the metal doors sprung open and a pair of soldiers clad in urban camouflage rolled out.
They unloaded their rifles upon the bandits. He dodged the shots and ran up the stairs, closing the gap faster than the soldier could react to. A single kick to the throat was all it took to kill him. Doc and Phillippo didn’t fare as well. He heard shouting and gunfire, and ran into the bridge. Sarmon subdued the pilot with his weapon, while Wolfe ran to the other side of the room. Doc and Phillippo lay in a pool of blood at the bottom of the stairs. Their killer loomed over them. Before he could turn to face Wolfe, he joined the bandits on the blood-splattered ground. More food for the fish.
As he returned to the bridge, Sarmon looked at him, and not a moment later, half his brains sprayed out his ear. From the shadows emerged another man clad in military attire. His hair was dirty blond, though his sideburns had gone grey. He was clean-shaven, riddled with scars, and his eyes were icy blue. He wore a red ribbon on his left shoulder inscribed with the initials ‘N.R.R.A.’.
“Damn pirates.”
The soldier fired at him. He dove to the side, drawing his pistol, glass shattering around him, and unloaded on the man. Of course, he was wearing a bulletproof vest. A shot took him in the shoulder, and another nicked him in the belly, and soon Wolfe’s vision began to blur. The alcohol wasn’t giving him so much of an edge anymore. He fell to his knees. A smile crept onto his foe’s face. He could feel a speech coming on. Narcissistic fool.
“You lived how long just to die like this? Mmm? Don’t usually come across pirates so old.”
He raised the rifle, but Wolfe had already leapt at him, roaring, ‘Wolf Fang Fist!’, and when his hand connected with the man’s lower jaw, he felt it give way with little protest. Blood gushed out, hot and sticky, running down his knuckles. The soldier staggered back, howling, his jaw hanging in tatters around his face, blood dripping out from the ribbons of split flesh on either side.
“Sorry about your face.”
The man threw something that looked like a grenade at Wolfe. In an instant, he was coated in flames; he could smell his flesh and hair burning. The man watched, holding his shattered jaw, looking almost gleeful. Then came the pain. He ran screaming to the nearest railing and flung himself overboard.
Although the fire had been a decent distraction, after it quenched and he sank beneath the churning waves some three-and-a-half miles from Hosomaki’s shore, the cold of the deep beckoned him. He saw a flash of light and fire erupt ahead and knew that Kershew, and the ship, and the map, had been burnt to ash. Now everyone was gone. His Wings were finished. He didn’t have to rise to the surface. He could stay down there forever with the last of his crew.
When his throat began to burn, Wolfe couldn’t help but surface. I’m not dead, and neither is Olivia. This isn’t over.
It was a crisp morning in the late summer of Age 747. Wolfe was sunbathing on the Crimson Beach in Hosomaki. It was colder than the day before. The hospital had given him enough pain meds to kill a baby elephant, so he didn't mind, and his stitches weren’t hurting so bad, either. He had remained in the hospital for more than a week. Olivia never came to visit. Furthermore, Mr. Ohano swore he never saw her at his bar ever again.
At around five o’clock, he set off for Ohano’s. Soon, the fishermen would be coming home. He wanted to eat and be gone before they crowded into the bar. Wolfe ordered an appetizer of Ahi tuna sashimi and a bowl of shōyu yellowtail hamachi ramen. Another bottle of whiskey brought him to the limit of his monetary abilities.
As he slurped up his noodles, he came to the uncomfortable realization that he would be better off back in South City. It wouldn’t be difficult to steal a fishing boat. What had happened to Olivia? Maybe her date had been a cannibal serial killer. In the end, it didn’t matter. He would not disgrace himself by looking for a mutineer. He had his whiskey. He didn’t need anyone else.
Thoras’ betrayal had hurt more, more so than even losing Diablo Desert. Wolfe had known the man all his life–well, he thought he had. I became the boss once before. I’ll do it again. I’ll raise a new crew in South City, and it won’t be long before we retake Diablo Desert. And after this, no more boats, and no more fish. He longed for the days of sand in his boots and a bike capsule between his fingers.
Ordering another tuna appetizer to go with the last of his zeni, the old bandit slunk off into the night. Some forty-five minutes later, a dirty, rotten, no-good thief stole a poor fisherman’s boat, snuck out of the harbor and onto the open ocean, and was never seen in those waters again.
Endnotes[]
- Amenbo Island (the location of Androids 19 and 20's attack) was chosen as the location for the first scene because it is, as far as I know, the most canonically southern point known in the series. It is the closest location to Akki (seen in Nineteen Assassins) and the surrounding island chain, which will feature as the main location for Crimson Shores.
- Thoras gets a big moment in the first scene due to what happens to him in the second scene. The resolution to his arc had to happen at a quicker pace than for any other character in Wolfe's gang.
- Umberto and his wife (and the encounter in general) were written to be very much in the flavor of the Chasing Oblivion style. This style fades in the later scenes to represent Wolfe's removal and isolation from Diablo Desert.
- Umberto's wife said the word c*nt three times compared to Umberto using it once. Some women find this word to be impossibly offensive, but I enjoy it. Anthony Cumia's ex-wife basically considering this word as an argument ender (nothing can proceed until the apology is received, as they say) was a big influence here, although the physicality of Umberto's wife is not based on her, and Umberto himself was not based on Anthony.
- Umberto was the ugliest male name I could find.
- It's hard to blame Umberto for drinking so much and being so curt with his wife when she looks like she does. It's a tale as old as time.
- The descriptions of the deaths of the officers and the couple was left deliberately minimalistic. As I edited the story, I cut out a lot from that scene in particular, leaving it very stark. Umberto's death (via drowning or shark consumption) is left ambiguous and is only alluded to in two short instances. The way this particular description was edited influenced the tone of my prose for the collection from this point on, as I remember it being a sort of "break-through" moment.
- Umberto's wife did love him despite their banter, given how she rushes to aid him after he fell overboard.
- Umberto's wife's corpse falls bleeding into the ocean. This will no doubt attract sharks. Umberto should hope that he succumbs to hypothermia before they arrive, but I don't think they are far south enough for that to be in play. You never know, though. My thalassophobia came out hard with how I handled his death, for the implications are always worse than outright seeing it in these instances. Again, I must return to the fact that his wife was chum for any nearby sharks, so he was super, super fucked. What a horrible way to go, either way, and not a member of Wolfe's gang gave it a second thought, even as they listened to him screaming and struggling in the water. Says a lot about them, from Wolfe to Sarmon.
- Umihebiza will be a pivotal island location in Crimson Shores. It is probably the most important island in that story.
- The Crimson Fingers are the perfect location for a pirate/thief to live, as, due to its remoteness, there is almost nobody down there to protect the natives and locals from being preyed upon. At least, that's the way it seems, and that's the way it should seem to anyone setting out there who is not in the know. Cardinal's New Red Ribbon Army has a significant force down there, however, and that is not common knowledge. Wolfe will only learn of their might in the third scene. In this way, the islands offer a false promise of riches where there is almost no chance of them being able to do anything before the NRRA hunts them down - so long as they know that bandits are in the area.
- The Red Sea will remain barren throughout all of the stories that I write in it. There are very few if any vessels out there, and the same can be said of pirates and whalers in the region.
- Wolfe's reflections on Sarmon, Phillippo, and Kershew in the second section were deliberately light in their characterization in comparison to Doc, Thoras, and Olivia. Of course, this is mainly due to seniority, but I think it also reflects a new distant emotional style of his that leads to less emotional anguish, but perhaps less chance at ever bolstering the crew's ranks again.
- Wolfe's alcohol consumption is significantly higher in this story compared to in Chasing Oblivion. He's gotta get that rush somehow, even in his low state.
- Hosomaki's lighthouse not being on indicates that perhaps the island isn't well-manned at present.
- Ohano's pub should feature a bit in Crimson Shores. I was working with the location here in anticipation of that.
- The Sea of Clouds Onsen, and the use of onsens in general, foreshadows the setting and tonally parallels and in some cases contrasts some of the water imagery from The Shunko Onsen.
- The Wings would've probably killed Ohano for daring to kick them out had they been less drunk, but they really did need to sleep.
- The original poisoning scene was written on the boat (back then, Wolfe and his crew commanded a bigger one). In both cases, however, the Wolfe/Thoras climax happens with them and them alone to witness it. This allowed for certain lines of dialogue to happen. If Doc and Kershew were hanging around, I don't think it would've played out this way (Thoras would no doubt get more theatrical and try to get them to save him), and this is ultimately the way I wanted it to play out. In the original draft, however, Thoras was killed via keelhauling, which is just about the worst way to die. I don't specify it here, but it can be assumed that Wolfe ended it quicker in the final draft.
- Thoras severely underestimated Wolfe in the second scene because of his drunkenness. He thought he could play Wolfe like usual, but he was careless due to the inebriation, and so his plans were laid bare before Wolfe. He got lazy with complacency on top of being drunk, which I've found to be a fairly lethal combo for most humans.
- Olivia's fate may or may not ever be expanded upon. I honestly don't know right now. If I were a betting man, I'd say there's a 55% chance of her never being heard of again (in my fanons).
- It was the alcohol that primarily delayed Wolfe and his crew from setting off at daybreak with the rest of the fishing ships.
- Wolfe is quite powerful for a human, being the inventor of the Wolf Fang Fist. He is faster and stronger than the average man, and so writing this fight scene with that in mind was a little tricky, for his level is still far below that of any of the Z Fighters (even during the early Dragon Ball days). An older man now, Wolfe lacks stamina, so these fights cannot go on for long if he hopes to win. I wanted him to feel like the strongest man in the room at all times, but not be overpowered to the point where he shouldn't fear bullets like Goku and Roshi and Krillin.
- Wolfe's detachment over Doc's death emphasizes the earlier paragraph about his depression, so long as he's gone from the desert. He's a desert bandit, after all, and he's a long way from home trying to make some money. He couldn't take the losses of his crew and territory during Chasing Oblivion and so mentally detached himself from caring about the survivors, for he knew they would inevitably die. Thoras and Doc and Olivia were the only ones he had known for a while, and Thoras betrayed him, while Olivia seemingly abandoned the crew. With that in mind, it's no wonder he didn't give Doc a second thought. The fact that he didn't outwardly grieve shows how painful it is for him, even if he doesn't want to admit it to himself.
- Sarmon's death was very much in the Chasing Oblivion spirit, I must say. If he's the last of Wolfe's crew, it's the only way to go out. I'm not sure if Olivia is dead or not, and certainly won't reveal that here, but Sarmon's death had to assume she was dead for certain thematic reasons.
- The man who gets savaged by Wolfe in the jaw is named Wheltin. He will appear in Crimson Shores in a villainous capacity (and with a new, shinier jaw).
- I have terrible thalassophobia. That came into play big time at the end of the third scene. It was very hard to put myself in Wolfe's position while writing that. Especially the part where he sinks down further into the frigid, cold waters (which would obviously give any regular human hypothermia in minutes), I imagine there to be more than one big fish lurking in the deep, preparing to lash out at his feet. Earlier drafts of this section were more overt with that imagery. Most of that was implied in the final version.
- If Wolfe were not the man he was, I'm not sure he would've been able to escape the cargo ship's rudder, either, let alone swim 3.5 miles back to shore after being shot multiple times and burned.
- The way Wolfe reshapes his pain into motivation is a major aspect of his survival for all these years in the desert and ocean alike while all those he knew either got out of the game or died. It's a testament to his toughness.
Aside from the prose being a little too sparse for the barren Red Sea even in a few places, this story is pretty much exactly how I want it to be, so I have no complaints. Wolfe may or may not appear again, but if he does, it would most likely be as a cameo rather than as a major player in some story. Maybe we'll see him banditing it up at some point in Diablo Desert again. I don't know. I liked the change of environment for him. That added a layer to his more detached characterization here. In any case, I expect this one will be fairly highly ranked when I get to the end of this collection.
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Part 143 ---->