But where was Dexter Blanche, poor photo boy, during all of this calamity?
As Dexter exited the strange furniture store and entered the next car, he braced himself, preparing himself for anything, really. But what he saw next- or, the many things he saw next, he was not entirely prepared for.
See, Dexter thinks himself a half-decent survivalist. In an emergency, he knows what to do. Respect the land, and it respects you, in return. Thats how he’s always lived his life, and its gotten him this far, right?
This was not the land.
This was the sea oh heavens this ship is going down is it.
Dexter doesn’t make it a habit to travel by boat, and what boats he had traveled by have been mere canoe’s or dinghy’s. For the first time in a long while, Dexter was on the back foot. He was scared. Lifeboats! Lifeboats? No- there wasn’t enough time for lifeboats. This ship was breaking apart, and he had to do something. He had to save himself, and more importantly, he had to save his precious camera from water damage.
So, in his quick thinking, with the few precious moments he had before this whole thing was rend asunder; Dexter tried to make himself as buoyant as possible.
See over there? That sealed barrel, floating against the torrent and waves? Inside is a small, 5 foot even nature boy, currently being thrashed and thrown around, at the entire mercy of the seas, trying desperately to hold the lit closed. Thankfully, the water pressure pushing against it helps, and hey, its not often your small stature actually comes in handy!
With any luck, a door or perhaps an island will make itself known. The train didn’t seem THAT blood-hungry, after all. (Mostly the cat…) Through the frankly abysmal acoustics of being inside a barrel though, Dexter could hear others thrashing against the waves, likely having been thrown overboard. But its fine. He, at the very least, is safe. And that’s what matters to him.
Perhaps, he thinks to himself, he should have respected the waters more in his travels.
