A Red Sky Has Fallen

by Ryan Gilbert

  Extending his hand, he asked, “Care to join the crew, Valera?”

  Looking up at him with her green eyes, she smiled and accepted the handshake. The smile on her face was unlike any expression that he had seen from her for the entire voyage. He could sense her happiness growing with every second.

  “Alrighty… now get on deck and help yer lover boy,” said Riggs sarcastically.

  The mermaid replied with a hearty and cheerful, “At once, Captain Riggs.”

  “Commodore, it’s the Dagger. It appears she’s been abandoned.”

  Hamond hobbled out of his quarters and snatched the spyglass from the soldier. One look and he handed it back to the man. Indeed it was the HMS Dagger, shrouded in mist and anchored off the coast of an island of which nobody had seen or heard anything. As the Magistrate’s navigator and several other soldiers searched for the island on their maps, they were utterly dumbfounded. It was like it had just appeared out of the blue.

  But that was not Commodore Hamond’s main concern. He wanted to know, right then and there, where his daughter was.

  “Is this what days of searching gets us? An abandoned ship and no pirates? Where could they have possibly gone?”

  Lieutenant Travers tried to calm his superior, but he had a feeling that it was not going to work.

  “Sir, what else can we do? We’ve pursued these scallywags for weeks, and there is still no sign of anything.”

  Tapping his cane irritably on the deck, the Commodore snarled, “Search the Dagger, and find something that indicates where they are heading. If there’s nothing, then there will be hell to pay.”

  “Commodore, if they abandoned the ship, what makes you think there will be anything that we could use to find them?”

  “Don’t question me, Lieutenant. When I tell you to do something, you…”

  PSHOOOW

  A blue light shot out from the island, straight into the sky. Hamond stopped in the middle of his sentence, the rest of the words unable to form themselves as he stared at the unnatural phenomenon. It shocked the Navy sailors so much that they froze in mid step. Gasps could be heard coming from all areas of the ship.

  Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the blue light disappeared.

  “W-what was that?” asked the navigator.

  That seemed to be the question on all of the soldiers’ minds. Everyone looked to the Commodore for answers, but he was just as stupefied as they were.

  No words left his lips.

  With nothing else to say, the Lieutenant asked, “Um… orders, sir?”

  The Commodore fumbled for words, but he eventually got them out.

  “Bring a dozen men to the island with you. That blast had to have come from someone or something. Perhaps they know where the Red Sky is. Keep a sharp eye, and if the worst should happen, do not hesitate to defend yourself.”

  “Of course, sir,” said the Lieutenant with a bow.

  Steadying himself with his cane, the Commodore made his way back to the comfort of his quarters. He was confident that Travers would do his job well. He had not failed yet. If anyone could find whatever had caused that strange light, it would be Travers. Sure of his loyal officer, Commodore Hamond sat down at his desk and started to pour over his charts.

  The seconds ticked by, growing longer and longer as the Navy man tried to find a probable place that the pirates could be hiding. Every hour, a soldier would enter the room and let the Commodore know that the search party had not come back yet. Every time, the Commodore would dismiss it as Travers being thorough.

  That excuse worked until the seventh hour.

  As the clock neared that point, the Commodore began to grow restless. He was downright uncomfortable. It was unlike Travers to take that long for a simple reconnaissance mission. Grabbing his cane, he stood up from his chair and was going to make his way out to the deck, but something stopped him.

  A tremor shook the HMS Magistrate. Nearly every board rattled, and the flames on the candles flickered. Then, something stranger started to happen.

  It came upon the ship like a shadow, and it covered everything. Underneath his feet, the light brown boards turned into a grayish blue, like they were decaying right in front of his eyes. The edges of the windows turned white and opaque. Looking around him, the Commodore saw the candles extinguish, only to reignite with a bright blue flame.

  He had never seen something this extraordinary. It scared him to his core, though he would never admit it.

  The instant that Hamond was about to leave his quarters, three soldiers entered the room, one of them being Lieutenant Travers. The other two men kept their heads down, their hats shielding their eyes.

  “Lieutenant, what in God’s name is happening here? Is this some sort of trick?”

  “N-no, sir,” mumbled the officer.

  “Did you find the… cause of the…”

  It was then that Commodore Hamond noticed that his Lieutenant was shaking.

  “What happened, Travers?”

  “I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?” Hamond asked, still unsure of what to make of the situation.

  The Lieutenant gulped and muttered, “I was sent, sir…”

  He paused, unable to continue.

  “Just tell me what happened, Travers.”

  After a breath, Travers tried again, “I was sent to tell you that… damn it, I can’t…”

  *schluck*

  The Commodore looked down and saw three spikes sticking straight through Lieutenant Travers’ body. Holding his hand to his mouth, his eyes followed the weapon to a man, previously hidden by the dying officer. The man planted his foot against Travers’ body and pushed it off of the spikes.

  Travers fell to the floor as Commodore Hamond rushed to his side. The superior officer held his hands over his lieutenant’s wounds, trying to stop the bleeding.

  It would not stop.

  “Come on, Lieutenant. Come on, Daniel, focus on me,” Hamond said, grasping the boy’s hand.

  “Commodore… can you… do something for me?” Daniel rasped.

  As even more of Travers’ blood seeped onto the floor, Hamond replied, “Of course. Just tell me what it is and I will do it.”

  With a shaking hand, Daniel reached into the pocket of his uniform and pulled out small, brown, leather-bound book. He shoved it into Hamond’s hand and held it there.

  “See that… this gets to Julia. Hopefully, it’ll… help…”

  Travers’ hand fell limp, dropping to his chest. Commodore Hamond was left holding the book as he watched the last bit of life leave the boy’s body.

  Daniel Travers was dead.

  As the Commodore looked up, he was surprised to see that the mysterious man had not moved an inch. The soldiers behind him seemed oddly calm, even after watching a fellow officer get murdered right in front of their eyes. Hamond grabbed his cane and stood up, sliding Travers’ book into his coat and resting his hand on his sword.

  “Seize him this instant,” the Commodore ordered the two other soldiers.

  They merely turned to him and looked up. That simple motion allowed him to see the hypnotic, blue mist emanating from their pitch black eyes.

  Commodore Hamond backed up until he ran into his desk. In complete astonishment, he dropped his cane to the ground. It rolled to the side, stopping right next to the Lieutenant’s corpse. Hamond ripped his sword out of its scabbard, hoping that the weapon would be enough for him to use to defend himself.

  The mysterious man turned his attention to the Commodore, and using his hook, pushed the dust-covered hair out of his eyes.

  With Poseidon’s trident resting at his side, Marcus Garrett stood in front of Commodore Hamond and proclaimed, “This ship has a new captain now… me.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Do have a seat, Commodore,” said a smug Garrett, stepping closer.

  Hamond would not lower his sword.

  “Don’t make me use this,” said the pirate, pointing t
he trident at his adversary.

  “I am a servant of the Crown. I don’t give in to a pirate’s demands,” Commodore Hamond growled.

  A blast of bright blue light shot out of the trident, knocking the Commodore over his desk and straight into his chair. Pain shot through his chest as his still-healing wound was hit with the force of the trident’s powers. The chair tipped over from the strength of the impact, dumping Hamond on the floor along with everything else that had been on the table. His sword flew across the room, far out of the Commodore’s reach. He was defenseless.

  Chuckling, Garrett said, “Ye see, Commodore, I’m no longer just a pirate.”

  He pulled a chair up to the table and motioned for Hamond to do the same.

  “I’m a god.”

  Reluctantly, Commodore Hamond picked up his chair and sat down in it. He felt completely helpless, especially with Garrett holding such a powerful weapon.

  “What have you done to them?” he asked, pointing to the soldiers.

  Garrett looked at them and said, “Let’s just say I’ve changed where their loyalties lie.”

  Propping his feet on the table, Garrett continued, “Seems like just yesterday that I was sittin’ across from ye bargainin’ fer me and my crew’s freedom. You do remember ‘at, don’t ye?”

  Hands resting on his stomach wound, the Commodore spat, “I should have killed you right then and there.”

  “Ah… but then we wouldn’t ‘ave had this whole fiasco, now would we?”

  Another blast shot out of the trident, again knocking the Commodore to the ground. On his way down, his foot jammed against the desk, ripping a drawer out of the frame.

  “Ain’t it great? Right back where we started, but with the roles turned around completely.”

  Commodore Hamond reached his hand into the drawer and tried to find something that he could use to defend himself. When his finger touched against the cold barrel of a pistol, he felt the situation start to shift in his favor.

  “You’ve been awfully quiet ‘ere, Commodore. Care to share your thoughts?” asked Garrett, pounding his hook against the table.

  As quick as he could, Hamond stood up and, with steady aim, pulled the trigger.

  BANG

  The pirate did not move. Instead, he merely motioned for his enemy to come forward. As perplexed as he was, Commodore Hamond made his way around the table, sure that the ruffian would fall over soon, either wounded or dead.

  “Dear deluded Commodore… take a look and tell me what ye see,” Garrett said, pointing at something in the air.

  In the dull light, the Commodore could barely see anything, let alone something small.

  “Here… let me help you,” said the pirate, grabbing the Commodore by the neck and hauling him closer.

  Inches in front of his face spun the ball that he had just shot.

  He gasped in disbelief. It was impossible. Nobody could possibly stop a gunshot. It was entirely inconceivable.

  “So tell me Commodore… how does it feel to shoot yerself?”

  Once Garrett finished speaking, the Commodore felt his shoulder burst with pain. He staggered backwards as blood began to ooze out of the hole in his blue coat. Sticking his hand under his shirt, he tried to get the ball out, but he could not find it. With gritted teeth, he stuck his finger into the bloody hole, but still could not reach it. As a last resort, he felt around the back of his shoulder, just to check. An exit hole was seeping blood as well.

  Garrett laughed and hit him right in the jaw, knocking him flat on his back.

  “Looks like yer my prisoner now, Commodore Hamond.”

  Pressing his hand against his shoulder, Hamond asked, “What… exactly… do you want, Mr. Garrett?”

  The pirate crouched down so that he could look the wounded man straight in the face.

  “I want the Red Sky… same as you. Only difference is that I want everybody, and I mean everybody, on that ship dead… even yer pretty lil’ daughter.”

  Even though it caused him a great amount of pain, the Commodore propped himself up on his elbows. Garrett leaned in closer, thinking his new captive was about to say something. The only thing to greet him was a jab to the face from the Commodore’s fist.

  “Over my dead body,” Julia’s father said through gritted teeth.

  Standing up, Garrett rubbed his jaw and said, “That can be arranged.”

  Turning to the soldiers, he ordered, “Take ‘im to the brig. Let ‘im stay there and contemplate how miserable his life will be when I’m done wit’ ‘im.”

  The two soldiers dragged the Commodore out of the room, deaf to his cries of pain and anguish. Garrett could finally exact his revenge against Riggs and the Red Sky. What could that pitiful crew do against the one hundred guns of the Navy’s flagship and the power of the trident?

  At long last, the Red Sky docked at the port of Rebelde. It took some luck, but even with just eight crewmembers, they managed to sail right up to the docks without any problems. There was not one person on the ship that was not hankering for some actual food and some relaxation. After Nisi tou Ischys and the sea serpent, the crew needed a rest.

  “Finally some time to take a load off,” Riggs said, stretching out a kink in his back.

  “And on solid land too,” added Julia.

  As they made their way down the dock, the girl pulled on Riggs’ coat sleeve and whispered, “Do you think we’ll have to deal with anything like the last time you brought me here?”

  Not slowing his pace, Riggs said, “Honestly, love, ye ain’t got nothin’ to worry about…”

  He looked behind him and then back to Julia.

  “… especially if Valera’s comin’ along with us. With as little as she’s wearin’, the scum o’ this town will focus on her more than you. Besides, you can handle yerself when it comes to a fight.”

  “I can handle myself after I have some food in my stomach,” she said.

  The crew made their way into the town, searching for a good place to get some food. They had to be careful in Rebelde though. They had heard too many stories of drunken chefs accidentally mixing toxic ingredients in with the food.

  Making their way through the streets, the crew had to separate from Ripper, Eli, and Petey. Eli and Petey had to stop by Doc’s old house and see if they could find any medical books so the ship could have something close to a doctor. Ripper, on the other hand, was too entranced by some new additions to the gun shop.

  “Are you goin’ to be testin’ the merchandise?” asked the Captain.

  “Dat be de most likely thing to ‘appen.”

  With a nod, Riggs dismissed his crewmate and let him go and do what he wanted.

  All that remained were Riggs, Julia, Coral Jack, Valera, and Clint. With Valera’s minimal dress, it was pretty hard to be inconspicuous. While the attention seemed harmless to the men, Julia and Val did not share their sentiments. It was even harder for them to ignore when the attention turned physical. At one point, a drunkard tried to plant a smooch on the mermaid’s face, but she knocked him on the ground with a fierce knee to the gut.

  After about ten minutes of walking, the group arrived at one of the only places that Riggs still trusted: the Goddess of Rum. The Captain started to lead the group into the building, but stopped.

  “Wait here for a second, deary,” he told Julia.

  He disappeared into the tavern, leaving the group outside. A second later, they heard the sound of a bottle crashing, followed by the sound of chairs falling over.

  “Ye might want to stand back,” said Clint, pulling the ladies out of the path of the door.

  Sure enough, a familiar drunk came flying out into the street, nearly knocking the door off its rusty hinges. Riggs appeared in the doorway, holding the door open with a broken bottle in his hands.

  “Just makin’ sure,” he said, winking to Julia, “Now, who’s ready for some actual food?”

  He did not need to ask twice. The five made their way into the tavern and found themselves a
seat in the far corner without being interrupted.

  “Can we get some steak ‘n rum over ‘ere?” Riggs shouted to the back.

  “If you stop throwing out my paying patrons, then yes, boy,” was the response.

  “Come on… ye know my pay is as good as his,” the Captain joked.

  “Aye, but I didn’t catch him in my daughter’s bed, now did I?”

  Riggs was about to say something, but he caught Julia looking at him with a stern, disapproving look on her face.

  “Just bring us some food,” he said, quickly sitting down.

  Julia was glaring at Riggs, waiting for him to speak. He looked around to the rest of the group for help, but they were just trying to keep from breaking out in laughter. They watched as the Captain’s face turn red with embarrassment.

  “Care to explain yourself, Riggs?” Julia asked, staring him straight in the face.

  “Come on, love. That was before I even met you. You see…”

  “So?” she asked, folding her arms.

  “It’s a very vague memory now. I don’t even remember how it happened…”

  Julia let her gaze wander away from Riggs.

  “How many times?” she asked.

  Looking down at the table, he muttered, “Twice.”

  Julia gave him a fleeting glance and said, “Well, at least you’re honest about it.”

  Scratching his chin, he said, “Come to think of it… might o’ done it once wit’ ‘er sister too.”

  *slap*

  “That was a joke!” Riggs shouted, holding his arms up to ward off Julia’s attacks.

  “I’m not laughing!” she retorted, letting her hands do the talking.

  Clint, Coral Jack, and Valera had given up trying to hold back their laughter. Watching the two bicker was too entertaining. It was just what everyone needed to lighten the day.

  Soon, their food arrived. After Riggs tossed some doubloons at the cook, the group dug into the morsels like savages. Even Julia gave in to her animalistic tendencies. They were all so hungry for actual cooked food that, if it were not for the constant loud shouting coming from outside the windows, they would have forgotten where they were.