Re: Eames/Holly: dreaming
The boy didn't stop running to answer the question posed to him: Who are they? There wasn't time for stopping yet, and he was too practical to lose precious seconds in skidding to a halt in the sludge of water, turning, answering. It would cost time, and he didn't have time. So, he kept running. Around corners and, ultimately, into a grate that had been pulled open earlier. It was low to the ground, and his knees and hands became wet as he dropped to crawl into it, but it wasn't small inside the space. "Close it behind yourself," he ordered.
The crawlspace turned a corner and then ran parallel to the hall until it stopped. There, the boy unscrewed another grate that had already been loosened, and he climbed out and down a rickety ladder.
It was obvious the ladder led into the belly of the listing boat, but the listing was less noticeable here, and there was no water when the boy's feet slapped down to old, damp wood that was darkened with age and oil. It smelled of grease, and the sounds of the engines could be heard. Even deaf, the heat would've given away where they were, and the stairs ended in an old storage area, lit only by one anachronistic flashlight that looked shiny, modern and new. The lit flashlight was perched on a side-table made from a crate, and there were red and white blankets in the corner, stolen from rooms and too nice to be down here. It was a hideout.
The boy turned. "They might find us anywhere," he said, hands lighting on his hips and his tone bossy. "We aren't supposed to be here. I'm not, anyway. Are you a stowaway too? They are the crew. If they find us, they'll send us back, and I'm not going back. I'm going to find the treasure and steal it, and then I'm going to be where I want to be, and no one is ever sending me back." The treasure was important, necessary, and so was this vessel. It would take the boy where he wanted to be a solid way, one that couldn't be undone by buzzing or anything else. "So, you're either with me, or I'll end you right here and right now." He was 10, but he wasn't small, and he tipped his chin up bossily, hands curled into fists at his sides, and he dared the bigger boy to challenge him.