Eight<br />
paces west of the palm tree, twenty paces towards the tallest<br />
mountain on the island. In the shade of the trees, Carrie marked the<br />
spot, took her shovel and got to work. The bandana she hung on a<br />
nearby tree bore the insignia of the Bovista pirates, terrors of the<br />
Armillaria Sea. She wasn’t going to need it anymore. She’d burned<br />
all of her bridges to get here. Not that it mattered; by the end of<br />
the day she was going to be filthy rich.<br />
	The<br />
sun was setting by the time Carrie’s shovel