My anger seeps away from me like water down a gutter, replaced with a hollow feeling that starts in my throat, journeying down into my belly. Much to Gus’ disappointment. I'm done shooting for the day. I turn away from the red horizon with its clouds that match the colour of my mood.
Returning to my room I slip out of my shoes and under the dark grey covers of my bunk with a book. My intention is to read, but the book I'm re-reading reminds me of my little sister. My original copy, which has probably been looted or burnt in the chaos before the nuclear bombs, had an anthology of melted crayon stuck to many of its pages. Mia had been six when she'd doodled throughout the novel so my anger at her was short lived. In fact, whenever I was mad at her I would take the volume off of my shelf and flip through it.
The mustard yellow pages are tattered and doggy-eared with timeworn grooves along its spine. The sun, from my window, was a spotlight on my bookshelf and it hadn’t helped in its preservation. The crayon had melted, oozing into the pages and becoming as much a part of the book as its very words. This copy smells like the bookstore - wool and dough, not of crayon and sugar cookies.
The pages are smooth to my touch, the familiar words and the sway of the ship lulling me into a peaceful meditation until I turn to a page, I remember used to have a doodled purple bunny smooshed into the slightly rough paper of the original copy. Tears collect in the corners of my eyes, my nose itching.
When I’d fired that first shot earlier, I’d not only let my anger seep away, but I’d let my walls collapse too.
I miss my family. I miss my friends and the guilt at having lost Jesse creates an ulcer in my stomach. It's my fault we'd been separated. If I hadn’t of let go of him when the bomb went off, we may have ended up together. We'd be learning to be pirates and devising a plan to get home together, and maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t feel so alone.
After that, I can’t take the solitude. I drop my book on my unmade bed with its spine bent outwards before opening one of the doors to my closet and removing a thick burgundy coat with quilted leather shoulders. I slip it over my wrinkled t-shirt. Sticking my hands in the pockets and clasping my elbows to my sides I venture upstairs.
The sun has collapsed against the vast expanse of the darkening ocean. Soon the turquoise sea will be completely black like a void. I hate the ocean at night. It has me thinking about hopelessness and loss. The red sky a watercolour as the thickening clouds leak together.
There is no one else around, other than a silhouette that sways towards me. My eyes crease as a water droplet, as hard as a small pebble, lands on the back of my head.
“Cris! Just look at the sky,” Keenan slurs. His amble worries me as the deck is becoming slick from the drizzle.
Another pebble lands on my nose. I rub it dry and look up. It's going to be some storm.
“Ah... It’s about to pour down on us. Maybe we should get inside?”
Keenan attempts to impress, ‘no,’ with his head, but just end up squishing the fat of his chin into his neck.
“Where you been?”
I pull the collar of my jacket up to protect my neck as a strong gust of wind rebuts against me, causing my hair to flail into my mouth and eyes. I spit it out and reply, “I was indoors where all the sane people are...”
Inside the pockets of my coat, I curl my hands into fists and whisper, “thinking about home.”
Keenan puckers his lips and pats my shoulder. His plaid shirt is damp and reeks of stale beer and sweat.
“Really? How boring.”
I give him a withering look and sigh. “Perhaps it’s time I went home. I could get a plane from wherever we port.”
“Ye got to stay to meet the sea hag. An’ you’re one of us now. Even James is warming up to ye.”
“Well if the swaying and slurring didn’t give it away that did. You are drunk.” I pull my hands from my pockets, hugging my torso.
“I know I have to stay to meet Solange. I’m just homesick. Don’t you ever get homesick?”
He looks at me as if I'm daft. “This is my home.”
It's such a simple answer to what I suddenly feel is a loaded question. It leaves me wondering where my home actually is? My previous life is gone, and if I go back, I’d be so changed from who I was that I don’t know if it would still be true to my soul. I'm lost. That's my problem. I'm lost and I need to find out who I am now, and where I truly belong.
Keenan hiccups as the ship lurches. I fall forwards but quickly catch my balance. All that practice fighting has really paid off. It's dangerous for us to be out here when the deck is wet, especially with a storm on the horizon. The light droplets seem to fast-forward, as if in agreement with me.
“Are you okay?” I ask Keenan with alarm as he leans half of his body off the side of the ship.
“Uh yeah... I think I may go snooze for the rest of the night; I don’t want to end up like Jamie.”
I haven’t seen Jamie all day so I presumed he was suffering from a nasty hangover. “That’s a good idea. Goodnight buddy.”
I watch him stumble and slide until he disappears under the trap door that leads down below before turning to do the same. The ship rises alarmingly high before crashing into the waves faster than I anticipated. My converse slide, unable to find a grip on the wet slats of the floor.
The ship tilts and I find myself sliding to the edge, my hands out in front of me grasping at air. My body slams into something softer and warmer than I'd expected, before tanned muscular arms are wrapping themselves around my torso. I recognize his hands. He has a brown spot the size of a pea below his left thumb.
The ship falls back into place and I remain where I am, my heart beating like my sister's hamster’s did whenever he got loose and we had to catch him. Only mine is flaring up with adrenalin as I turn and stare at Riley open-mouthed.
“You saved my life.”
For once he isn’t smiling, in fact, his expression is a mixture of hard lines.
“What the hell are you doing out here?”
He's so angry I can’t help but respond with the truth rather than a snarky comeback. “I was looking for someone, and I met Keenan who was wasted so I waited for him to get inside... I was just about to go in too and then, well... you...” I stumble over my tongue.
My lashes are heavy from the rain which makes my eyes feel hooded and a little sultry. Tilting my chin, I gape at Riley. My throat closes up. The rain is coming down all around us now, slicking his hair down flat against his head. Mine will be the same and without a comb to tame it I’d only look like a drowned rat, and yet somehow at that moment, it doesn’t matter.
“You’re such a fool!” He yells, startling me.
I realize that I’ve moved so that my palms are flat against his chest. He is wearing a dark blue v-neck t-shirt which is sticking to his body. I can make out toned lines beneath the fabric and I swallow. I need to get away from him. Why is he yelling at me?
“... could be so stupid!”
I blink. Had he been speaking? What the hell did he say?
“Are you listening to me?” He asks.
He's actually even better looking when he's furious.
“Ah, yes...”
He doesn’t look convinced. “What did I say?”
I sniff wanting to look away from him but unable to. “You said I'm an idiot?”
To my dismay, he drops his hands which he’d clasped to my hips and moves away from me. “I have to find the Captain; you didn’t see him when you were up here risking your life did you?”
Now that he is away from me my mind is quickly clearing. I'm not sure if it had been the adrenalin, or the closeness, or even the smell of his wet skin, but something had made me momentarily mad. I clear my throat. “No, actually I didn’t, because I was out here looking for someone too and then I was risking my life to make sure my friend was safe.”
He turns away from me. “Go inside Cris.”
My heart plummets. So, I’d been momentarily mad and found myself feeling...
things for him. So what? He's a dick. I’ve always known that. I shouldn’t be surprised he's bossing me about after saving my life. That's just his way. Riley isn’t sweet, he is charming and harsh. That's who Riley is.
I walk towards the entrance without another word. “And Cris...” He calls.
I stop, my hand hovering above the railing, the wind whipping against my face. “Yes?” I call out, without turning to look back at him.
“If you see the Captain, tell him I’ve spotted land ahead.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I wake groggily to excited grunts and murmurs. The wooden floors creaking and bouncing beneath the weight of what sounds like hordes of men, their heavily booted feet stomping past my cabin.
Jumping from my bed, I clamber on top of Riley’s, which is unmade and empty, to stare out of the window.
Quinlin sways with each gentle ripple of aquamarine water. We appear to be stationed just a few miles from a lush island. It looks rogue and dangerous. My stomach backflips. Finally, land that won't constantly be moving! Jumping down from the bunk I land at a strange angle, my left foot twisting strangely.
Swearing loudly, I lift it, rubbing at the sore spot as I hop on the other foot till I reach my closet. Dropping my leg, I swing open the glossy white doors and grab a pair of faded jeans, boots and a deep red plaid shirt that ties at the waist. Dressed, I remove my pistol out from under my mattress and grab my sword from a catch on the door. I tie the sword to the strap around my waist and am about to leave when I remember a gift the Captain had given me the night, we'd left France. I’d hidden it in my underwear drawer since it’s quite valuable and I'm certain none of the crew will dare scratch through it.
Returning to my closet I open the drawer, my fingers searching through cotton, sateen and lace until they rest on the cool intricately carved hilt of a platinum dagger. Pulling it out the blade glints in the light, looking more like holographic crystal than any kind of known metal.
The Captain said it had been a gift from the elves, created in the forest of their birth and sanctified with unique powers. He didn’t know the specifics of the powers, but I’d played enough computer games to know that whatever they were they would be helpful in a fight. I only hope they won’t need to be recharged or anything annoying like that. Wrapping the dagger in an ivory sash I stick the bundle in my boot.
The crew is alive with excitement and eager to disembark. I feel it too. The enthusiasm is like a headache without the ache. It's a rush that starts at the heels of your feet and stretches to your ears before snapping back and leaving the space below your navel dancing.
“Jamie!” I call, spotting the dark curls of my friend in the crowd.
He looks up, grinning and shoves his way through the throng of burly bodies to stand beside me. “You heard? Land ho!”
“I did. So, what are we waiting for?” I ask, searching for the swarm of pirates for the Captain.
“We’re waiting for Riley and Gus to get back.”
I turn to stare at him in alarm. “Riley?”
Jamie frowns. “Yes, Riley and Gus left in the rowboat earlier to scope out the island since no one knows if it’s hazardous or not.”
I cross my arms. They press into my chest. “It looks dangerous.”
Jamie laughs. “You are so strange. It looks welcoming to me, and what’s with the concern for Pretty Boy all of a sudden?”
I don’t much like the name Pretty Boy for Riley since he isn’t exactly a pretty boy... and my Gran had once owned a yellow and grey cockatiel. His name had been Pretty Boy because it was the only thing he could say. So, whenever Jamie calls him by his pet name I cringe inside, imagining Riley as some sort of crazy old bird with hair styled to resemble a cross between a cowlick and a mohawk. I close my eyes, clearing my thoughts of the new disturbing images. Riley is not a bird.
“I ... Ah... How long ago did they leave?” I ask, my lashes flicking up.
His hazel eyes narrow. I recognize the look, and if there is one thing about Jamie, other than his tantrums that is difficult, if not impossible to stop, it's his probing.
I fling my hands up in front of me in protest. “Nope, don’t dig. Just answer the question.”
He pulls a face. “Please don’t tell me you’ve fallen for his charms!” He whines.
I pull a similar face, mostly because I am grossed out that I have. “Of course not! Can’t a girl just wonder?”
He doesn’t look convinced. “Let me recall... You mentioned only one name and it wasn’t Gus. Gus is more of a friend to you than Riley, which makes me wonder what exactly you’re wondering about Riley...”
I turn my face from him, pretending to cough into my hand as my cheeks flame up. God, I hate my blush. It always gives me away.
“I knew it! I knew it!” He shouts loud enough that the back of the crowd is starting to turn and stare.
My gut twists as I spot Kevin and Jerome among them.
“Knew it! You have –” I push my palm against his mouth and tug him away from our audience with a worried smile. Kevin looks far too interested in what Jamie knows.
“Shut up will you!” I hiss.
His mouth stops moving against my palm and with it, the faint sounds of his chorus mulls. I remove my hand and glare at him.
“Oh!” He groans throwing his hands up in the air and stomping his feet. “You are no fun.”
I open my mouth to tell him just how much of a bore I can be when the Captain’s booming voice hushes us all.
I turn and the crowd parts as Riley and Gus move into the nucleus of the throng looking dishevelled and washed out.
The Captain stands in line with them, his jaw stiff, his hands behind his back. “What did ye see lads?”
Riley’s voice cracks with lack of sleep. “It’s deserted. There’s no sign of recent habitation and doesn’t seem to have many animals on it.”
“It’s ta silent...” Gus murmurs from beside him, his chin bouncing with energy I don’t expect him to still have. “The only sign of life are statues of poor scunners with pained faces.”
Kevin turns to Jerome. His harsh straight eyebrows lifting quizzically as he mouths, ‘what?’ at Jerome, who shrugs. They aren’t the only ones confused. Often enough Gus doesn’t make sense, and this is one of those times.
“Does he mean their faces were painted?” I whisper to Jamie with a puzzled frown.
Why would a deserted island have a bunch of statues with painted faces? I can’t help imagining these beautiful Romanesque porcelain statues, only to have paint spread haphazardly over their faces similar to the way Mia used to do her makeup. I giggle and then quickly purse my lips as Jamie nudges me in my side.
“I thought you said the land was deserted?” Keenan asks from inside the circle. From the corner of my eye, I see Jamie nod. Jamie is actually incredibly intelligent; you just never realize that when he is singing pirate songs and stumbling about the ship.
“Aye, tis, there’s no sign of life now. Jus’ ruins,” Gus replies.
“Ruined statues of men?” Keenan inquires as he looks towards us, his eyes searching Jamie’s puzzled and slightly irritated face before moving to inspect Gus and Riley’s worn-out ones, well more so Riley than Gus, who has way too much energy for it to even make sense.
“Yes.” Riley responds annoyed. “And if you don’t mind, we’ve checked the island and there’s nothing. It’s safe, go ahead search it and see for yourselves. I’m going to sleep.”
The Captain scratches at his beard. “Aye, ye did a good job Riley. Go rest.”
Riley doesn’t hesitate and the Captain replaces him beside Gus.
“I’m not certain that this is the best idea. If there was life there, there could still be that they missed. So, for now let’s set up a camp on the mainland.”
The crew aye’s approval as they start to grab things to take with them. It's decided that Riley and Gus will stay aboard the ship with Kevin to keep a lookout for other pirates who might want to hijack the ship.
Jamie nudges me once more, grinning. “Shall I grab us a keg?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
What seems like a good idea to Jamie is bound to end up a disaster.
We drag the keg up two stories of winding steps. I'm out of breath and plastered in sweat by the time Keenan joins us for the easy part – rolling the barrel over the side of the ship. The beer sloshes inside, tumbling out a storm of its own music. My fingers are raw from the splintered wood and iron rings that hold the keg together. I wince as I curl them inwards.
“Guys I think I’m going to go with the others...” I trail off watching as Keenan lifts the keg easily above his shoulders and stumbles towards the edge of the ship. I begin to tread backwards slowly. This is going to end so, so, so, so badly.
Jamie runs toward Keenan and grabs the side of the keg. Both of them wobble and it drops sideways. Jamie pushes it back onto Keenan’s shoulders and I decided now would be the best time to make my escape. I turn and tiptoe forward.
“Wait!” Jamie cries.
I cringe, turning around slowly. Jamie is glaring at Keenan.
“We can’t just throw it overboard we need to tie a rope to it first.”
Keenan makes a noise that sounds like a growl. “Make up your bloody mind Jamie. This thing is getting heavy!”
Turning back, I half run half walk starboard where Dante and Colin are loading gear into one of the two rowboats we tied to the sides of the ship in case of emergency, or well, this.
“Ahoy lass, ye jumping ship?” Colin asks.
“If you have space, you’d be doing me a huge favour.”
Colin’s brother nods. The two look almost exactly the same. Both of them have caramel brown skin and dreadlocked hair. Only Dante’s hair and eyes are darker.
“Aye, ye best jump in bucko, before we drop her.”
I peer over the edge. My heart rate increasing in alarm. “What do you mean drop?” It's a seriously long way down.
Time Torn Page 11
