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Wes Genrette only had one job. Get the kids interested.
His old legs couldn’t handle all the moving about trying to find any news on the Blackbeard logbook. He is at his wits end. After the failed call with the Cameron boy, he just had to get the next best thing that he could think of– John Booker Routledge and his group of friends.
He wanted the boy’s father but he was too late apparently who got shot in El Dorado it seems like. Wes Gentrette’s luck was running out and this was his last hope.
Naturally, he wanted the eldest Cameron kid, Rafe. But Wes doesn’t have time to deal with drug addicts who have had a history of shooting people point blank and getting away with it.
The advantages of being rich. Untouchable .
So there he was, hidden in the crowd watching the group of six standing up on that stage, waiting for the show to end. This truly was his only option. He had nowhere else to go.
After a few speeches and the big applause at the end, the grand event celebrating the Pogues’ discovery of the Royal Merchant gold had finally ended. The Pogues—John B, Sarah, JJ, Kiara, Cleo, and Pope—exited the ornate hall where they had been honored, its massive doors creaking shut behind them. The night air was cool and crisp, a welcome relief after the stuffy, formal atmosphere inside. The courtyard outside was quiet, lit by the soft glow of antique street lamps.
JJ was the first to break the silence, shaking off the lingering formality of the evening. “Okay, I need a reset. I need a reset right now,” he declared, running a hand through his hair. “This is a lot. It’s time to celebrate.”
Pope, still adjusting to the attention they’d received, chuckled. “I’ll take one hit. One,” he said, half-jokingly, but there was a real sense of needing to unwind.
Cleo, who had joined the Pogues on their latest adventure, smirked. “Bad man now,” she teased Pope, her accent adding a playful lilt to the words.
As they walked further into the courtyard, the mood lightened, but there was still an undercurrent of reflection in the group. Sarah looked at John B, sensing his thoughts. “Big John would’ve thought this was all bullshit,” she said with a soft laugh, recalling her father-in-law. “Yeah, he kind of hated this side of the island. But I know you’re thinking about him. After everything that’s happened, it’s just… it’s just different.”
John B nodded, the mention of his father stirring up a mixture of pride and sorrow. Sarah continued, “It just feels so normal. You know? Kie’s saving turtles, Pope’s going away to school, and JJ bought the charter boat. And we’ve got a killer surf shop. Yeah, that’s all good, right?”
John B squeezed her hand, a faint smile on his lips. “Yeah. It’s all good.”
Before they could continue their conversation, a figure stepped out from the shadows near the courtyard’s edge. The man was older, with deep lines etched into his face, as if he had spent decades under the harsh sun. He wore simple clothes—a faded button-up shirt and well-worn trousers—but there was something about his demeanor that made the Pogues instantly alert.
“Excuse me,” the man said, his voice calm but commanding. “I… I don’t mean to interrupt.”
The Pogues stopped in their tracks, their celebratory mood quickly shifting to caution. John B was the first to respond, his tone guarded. “Uh, can we help you?”
The man nodded, stepping closer into the light. “Yes. I wanted to tell you all that it's remarkable what you did. Royal Merchant, El Dorado, Denmark Tanny. Impressive résumé, impressive.”
JJ, always the quickest to skepticism, tilted his head. “Yeah? And who are you?”
“My name is Wes Genrette,” the man replied, his eyes scanning the group with a hint of admiration. “I was wondering if you would all be so kind as to look at an item of mine.”
John B exchanged a glance with Sarah, who gave a slight nod. “What type of item is that?” John B asked cautiously.
Wes Genrette smiled faintly, then slowly pulled a small, ancient-looking book from inside his coat. Its leather cover was cracked and worn with age. “It’s a manuscript,” Wes said, holding it out for them to see. “I would investigate it myself, but I’m too long in the tooth. I need partners, and you all were first on my list.”
The Pogues gathered around, their curiosity piqued despite their caution. The air was thick with suspense as Wes handed the book to John B.
“May I?” John B asked, his voice a mix of suspicion and intrigue.
“I was hoping you would,” Wes replied, his eyes glinting with a mix of mystery and expectation.
John B carefully opened the book, revealing pages filled with delicate, spidery handwriting, old maps, and drawings that seemed to leap off the page with their detail. Pope, ever the historian, leaned in closer, his eyes widening as he recognized the significance of what they were looking at.
“1718,” Pope muttered, awe creeping into his voice. “Jeez, this is old. Exhibition notes, dates… This is a captain’s log. It shows the exact position of the ship. The exact location where it sailed and where it stopped.”
Kiara, peering over his shoulder, asked the question on everyone’s mind. “Who’s the captain?”
Pope looked up, his face pale with shock. “Edward Teach,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Blackbeard.”
The name sent a jolt of electricity through the group. They all knew the legend of Blackbeard, one of the most notorious pirates to ever sail the seas. The weight of what they were holding hit them all at once.
“Hot damn,” JJ breathed, his usual bravado replaced by genuine astonishment.
The Pogues stood there, absorbing the reality of the moment. This was no ordinary treasure hunt; they were now holding the key to a mystery that had eluded treasure hunters for centuries. And the man who had handed it to them was an enigma all his own.
John B closed the logbook, feeling its weight in his hands. “Why give this to us?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with suspicion.
Wes Genrette smiled, a shadow of something unreadable crossing his face. “I’m too old to chase legends anymore,” he said simply. “But you… you’ve got the guts, the determination. Consider it a passing of the torch.”
Kiara wasn’t convinced. “What’s in it for you?” she asked, her voice sharp with suspicion. “People don’t just hand over something like this out of the goodness of their hearts.”
Wes met her gaze, his expression softening slightly. “Maybe I want to see if you can do what I couldn’t. Or maybe I’m just tired, looking for someone worthy to finish the story I started years ago. Does it really matter?”
JJ scoffed, still wary. “It matters if this is some kind of setup. We’ve had enough of those to last a lifetime.”
Wes chuckled dryly. “You’re smart to be suspicious, but I’m not your enemy. Whether you take this and run with it is up to you. But something tells me you will.”
John B glanced at the others, and they all nodded in silent agreement. They had come too far and faced too much to back down now.
John B nodded at Wes, a decision solidifying within him. “We’ll take it.”
Wes Genrette’s smile returned, this time tinged with satisfaction. “Good. But be warned—what you’re holding isn’t just a map to treasure. It’s a key. A key to something that’s been lost for centuries. Something powerful. And dangerous.”
The words hung in the air, thick with meaning. The Pogues knew that they were about to embark on a journey unlike any they had faced before. But they also knew that they would face it together, just as they always had.
Sarah stepped closer to John B, resting her hand on his arm. “What do we do now?”
John B opened the logbook again, the pages crackling softly in the quiet night. “We do what we always do,” he said, a determined fire lighting up his eyes. “We follow the clues and find out where they lead.”
Wes Genrette nodded approvingly, then turned and disappeared into the night without another word, leaving the Pogues alone with the logbook and a million questions racing through their minds.
The group stood in silence for a moment, the weight of their decision settling in. JJ was the first to break the silence, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. “Well, this just got a hell of a lot more interesting.”
Pope, already absorbed in the logbook’s contents, nodded in agreement. “We’ll need to decode these symbols. This could take some time.”
Kiara, though still cautious, couldn’t hide her excitement. “But if it leads to Blackbeard’s treasure… imagine what we could find.”
John B closed the logbook with a sense of finality, looking at each of them. “Whatever’s out there, we’ll face it together. Just like always.”
Sarah smiled, squeezing his hand. “To the next adventure.”
JJ and Kie both swap glances and smile at each other. “Together.”