Greg Nixon, better known as Gilly, pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and whipped sweat from his forehead.  The temperature was in the high 80’s and combined with hard manual labor, his shirt showed large sweat rings extending nearly down to the worn brown pants that he typically wore when working the boat.  This boat put food on the table.  This boat kept the temptations away.  And this boat kept him from killing.

It had been 10 years since his sweet Rhonda and his daughter Eve had been taken from him so violently.  And he had barely survived the year following their deaths.  If it hadn’t been for inheriting this old boat from a close friend that had no family, he doubted that his time on this earth would have lasted much longer.

Now his days are filled with distractions.  From prepping crab nets during the harsh winters to  preparing the nets for summer Salmon fishing, thankfully there was always something.  Not from a physical standpoint, but from having too much idle time which allowed the memories to return.  And when memories returned, Gilly was compelled to hurt people.

Gilly went back to the minor repairs he was doing on the port railing.  The railing had been weathered over time and the last outing had been it’s last.  One to many hits from a loaded crab ring was all it took to shatter. He had two hours before sunset and wanted to finish this section before nightfall.  Working quickly and focused on the task at hand, all thoughts of his task later that night were void from his mind.

Hours later, Gilly walked out the front door of his simple home, looking like a completely different individual.  Gone are the dirty worn clothes and matted sweaty hair.  Now Gilly is dressed fully in black clothing, from the pressed pants to the black light jacket while also carrying a large black duffle bag.  His hair is freshly washed and pulled straight back and oiled down.  Also gone is the relaxed look on his face from earlier in the day as now his brow is furrowed and lips are tightly shut.  With a look of somewhere between hatred and irritation, Gilly briskly walks to his cargo truck and drives off toward town.

Thirty minutes later, Gilly has arrived at his destination.  There are bodies everywhere.  An older man knelt over a beautiful young woman that had died too young.  And then another couple almost to be in a final embrace before their lives ended.  Wondering what in the hell would have prompted this much killing within their own family, Gilly walked over to Don Sabrina.  There was a sadness in her eyes that Gilly normally didn’t see from a woman that had grown to a position of power by dealing with these issues on a routine basis.  That sadness spoke volumes that she had shared Gilly’s thoughts also.  With a simple nod of her head, Gilly knew what was expected.  He had been here before and understood to not ask questions.  He had a job and it kept him distracted and away from the memories.

Three hours later, the ten bodies were loaded into the van.  Normally a cleanup crew was made up of 3-5 Cleaners, but the Seattle family was different.  Gilly was in charge of the bodies while an group internal to the family was tasked with bringing things back to normal.  Gilly never saw this other group and fully understood that if a body was found, even if law enforcement picked him up first, the Family would still see him dead.

A few hours later, in the early morning hours, wind was blowing through Gilly’s hair as he navigated it away from sleepy Seattle and toward the his preferred location to lower in the crab pots.  One of the beauties of working the ocean was the unforgiving way Mother Nature enforced the circle of life.  Surrounded in darkness and the boat motored along as bodies weight down with stone were slowly dumped over the side as food for the undersea wildlife.

It is a sunny day and the woman comes out of the house. Differently, from yesterday, where it was raining a lot she does not wear her black gloves, black jeans, and black leather coat anymore. What she did was to stand at the cemetery and watch the graves of all the fallen while praying, that they got sent off in a good way and go to heaven. She made sure everyone got high-quality graves even if she had to pay some from her own pocket. It was just a terribly bad situation and she was clearly upset about it all. She spent a lot of time drinking out and just getting smashed.

But today she is wearing a black top and fitting black shorts. No matter what occasion or when she almost always only wears black colors. Maybe it is a good representation of her inner stability and the story of her life. Sometimes her eyes show moments of emptiness as she is daydreaming or just completely lost in her thoughts. However, it does not happen too often. For most of the times, she tries to keep her head high and make a good impression for her crew and for everyone in Seattle that she makes contact with in one way or another.
 

unfortunately not everyone has been taken care off yet as the fights happened all over different places so she is still walking around Ballard and see if she can find something and arrange something. Giving them the respect, they all deserve in the afterlife. She does notice the man who approached her, however as she did not know him well at all, she simply proceeds to nod as he was helping out with bodies for whatever reason. The van driver was there to help out and because she called him but she does not know the man yet.. '''Why  exactly are you helping out and who are you?''


is what she now asked the man while they were working together to take care of this mess. This took a good time and she was also freezing over the night times as the temperatures were cold and she has not dressed appropriately for it, but it did not matter. She just wanted to do what she had to no matter what. She however decided to stay with him for a boat ride, however, a short one as she just needed to clear her mind and she never took a boat before.. ''It is strange but in a good way to be on this boat..''