“I take it you want in on the adventure?”
“You want to find Atlantis, Gerard. More than anything.” He speaks like you would to an old friend or family member that you hadn`t seen for some time, warmly and at ease. His captivating grin widens, forming a full blown pale pink smirked, punctured by the gleaming lip ring.
“I know you do, I know you.” he giggles again, his chocolate eyes that were heavily outlined with red and black makeup lighting up.
Gerard stares at his strange, nameless intruder with wide eyes, half with fear and shock, and half with intrigue. Something about this long dark hared man interested him, and the way he spoke about the lost city, like he had practically seen it with his own eyes.
“Please sit.” It felt strange, alien even to be told to sit down in his own house, by a stranger, but something inside of Gerard told him that it just what he should do. and so he followed the younger man`s instructions.
“Cigarettes?” Frank fumbles about in the back pocket of his constricting jeans and pulls out a packet of cancer sticks and lights one up. He offers one to Gerard like the crimson haired, failed artist was an old friend, somebody he knew incredibly well.
And yet, Gerard had never laid eyes on this odd man before tonight, he would have remembered.
He shakes his head, dark red tangled locks falling into his eyes, as he declines the offer, even though the deadly stick did look rather tempting.
“Your Grandmother, Elena Lee Rush was a firm believer in the existence of the Lost City Of Atlantis, as I am sure you know. Sadly, she failed to live to see the day where it would be proved to the world that we believers were not crazy. But one day soon, Gerard, if you will help me, that day will become a reality.”
“W-what are you talking about?”
“The book, Gerard, the Journal of the perditus imperium.”
Gerard frowns, trying to figure out what Frank had just said.
He smiles, “Perditus Imperium is Latin, meaning Lost Empire.”
His frown deepens, lines forming on his forehead above his intensely focused eyes.
“Y-You mean to say that you have a book that tells you w-where Atlantis is?”
Frank nods slowly and holds out a time worn diary shaped book, with fraying edges and torn, watermarked, wafer thin pages.
“This is amazing!” Gerard screams overcome with joy and excitement, flailing his arms around wildly in the air, narrowly avoiding hitting Frank square in the jaw.
Frank giggles at the elder man`s excitement. “I take it you want in on the adventure?”
“Do I ever! When do leave?”
“Tomorrow morning, nine am.”
Gerard`s smile falters slightly as the nerve set in. “B-but we`ll need a crew and a ship and-and-“
Frank slams a huge pile of important, top secret looking documents down in front of Gerard`s bewildered face.
“Already taken care of. Here is the ship.” He holds up a colour image of a majestic, colossal ship, the largest Gerard had ever seen. “And the deep sea submarine we will be living in for the trip.”
He stared in awe at the images.
“And now, your team.”
Frank first holds up an image of a short, light brown haired girl, probably in her mid to late twenties. She wore a military type uniform that suited her slender, short figure well and she wore no makeup, not that she needed it as her beauty shone through all on its own, though it may have gone unnoticed by some.
“That is Danyel Harleyson. Twenty seven years old, into the military in a big way and one of our top sub technicians.”
Gerard nods and puts Danyel`s photo down, coming face to face with the paper image of another girl, this time a much younger looking, spiky haired one. He would have put her at around eighteen to twenty, definitely no older.
“Chloe Lewis. Sixteen years old, amazing assistant cook, we are very lucky to have her aboard.”
The next photo showed a man, probably in his early twenties and he was exactly what Gerard had imagined for a crew member.
“Milo Simon Grant. Twenty three and our top engineer.”
Milo had messy, self cut brown hair and grey eyes that were hidden behind dark framed, fairly nerdy looking glasses.
“Next we have Ariella Petischi. Twenty two and a mechanic.”
The image showed a curvy, olive skinned girl with her red, brown and blonde locks of hair coaxed back into a bun. Her bright blue eyes smiled up at Gerard as he stared at the young woman’s picture.
“And last,” Frank hands him a final image,” but not least, our eighteen year old head chef, Alaric, or Rick as he prefers.”
Rick was staring up at the person taking the photograph with a perfect poker face, his deep brown eyes gleaming in the light, partially hidden by black, soft strands of hair.
“Will you be ready to leave tomorrow, Gerard?” Frank asks hopefully.
Taking a deep, calming breath to try to steady himself, heart and mind racing at a hundred miles per hour, Gerard slowly nods. It was after all, the adventure of a lifetime, what he had been waiting his whole life for.
“I will be.”