by C. G. Mosley
"It's the tide!" I exclaimed.
"What about it?" Andrea asked.
"You're bloody father was far smarter than we give him credit for," I replied. "He waited till the water began to recede before he buried the chest. He knew no one would try digging for it so close to nightfall! The fifty paces from the water was meant to be counted off just before dusk, we should be digging closer to the surf!"
"Aye, the captain is right," Jolly Jack agreed, and he seemed to find a new burst of energy. He jogged toward the edge of the water and then began counting off the paces until he finally stopped a good distance before the pit we'd dug. "Start digging here mates!"
I ran to the spot he was standing and began digging at a furious pace. Gordon ran beside me and grabbed my arm.
"Are you mad?" he asked. "Nightfall is mere minutes away. There's no time!"
"We can do this!" I shouted back at him. "Start digging, we have to hurry!"
Oliver Langley and Robert Lynch began digging on either side of me. Moments later Hale and Joe were shoveling sand out of the way as well. Gordon reluctantly joined in and Andrea and Jolly Jack continued to scan the jungle for any signs of movement. The digging continued for nearly ten minutes when, ironically, Gordon was the first to strike something roughly five feet down.
"I've got something!" he shouted, and the rest of us scurried around him and began digging feverishly.
I looked to the sky and was discouraged when I saw stars beginning to twinkle beyond the dark purple sky. "We've got to hurry!" I exclaimed.
The top of the chest was revealed very quickly and the first thing that surprised me was its size. It was a rather large chest, measuring approximately three feet by four feet. We dug further into the ground and when we reached the bottom of the chest it appeared to be around three feet in depth as well.
With the realization that our time was terrifyingly short, I commanded Langley and Jolly Jack to ready the long boat. "Get it near the edge of the water directly below us," I said. "The rest of us will meet you with the chest." Both men nodded and scurried away, Langley stumbled a bit but managed to avoid falling.
"Alright men, let's get this chest out of the ground--lively now!"
The lot of us began heaving and tugging mightily at the large metal handles on either end of the chest. It was not nearly as heavy as I suspected it would be, which was a fortunate thing at the current time, but it also indicated to me that the chest's contents did not contain gold (which was not so fortunate). No sooner had we gotten the chest out of the hole and placed it on the beach, that a blood-curdling howl rang out from somewhere beyond the dense vegetation where the jungle began.
"What the devil was that?" Gordon whispered.
"That was something bad--something really, really bad," I replied. "Hurry, let's grab the chest and get out of here."
We scrambled forward and had probably made it halfway to the longboat when things began to spiral wildly out of control. The blood-curdling howls grew louder and more plentiful and mere moments later a multitude of primitive beings stormed out of the jungle straight toward us. It was becoming quite difficult to see as darkness washed over the beach, but I could make out that the beings were naked, and astonishingly, none of them seemed to be carrying any weaponry. They screamed wildly and made sounds that did not sound human as they approached. Even their movements seemed more animal than human. Although I understood nothing of what they said, I did understand that their incoherent screaming was extremely threatening. There was no way that we would reach the long boat before the wild cannibals reached us. The threatening tone they projected as they approached and the all-around dire circumstances in general led me to react the only way my instincts would allow. I released my grip on the chest and immediately drew my sword with one hand and my pistol with the other.
"Get that chest to the long boat; I'll be right behind you!" I commanded.
Andrea took the position I'd once held on the large chest, and as she did, Gordon and Robert released the chest and joined my side. The two of them immediately drew their weapons as well.
"What are you doing?" I snapped.
"You can't hold those bloody freaks off by yourself," Gordon replied. "Hale and Joe are strong enough to get the chest to the boat without our help; we'll help you hold them off until it's done. They aren't even holding any weapons, how hard can it be?"
There was no time to argue or discuss the issue any further; the wave of cannibals was upon us. Their vicious assault was met with the cold, cruel steel of our blades. I'd never sliced and hacked my way through so much flesh in all of my life. The screams of our attackers was bone-chilling and I was unable to tell if it was due to the pain they were experiencing or the rage. The continuous showers of blood and flesh did little to slow the barrage of bodies that rained mercilessly upon us. As I fought the strange cannibals, I noticed that that their eyes were the color of blood. They were doing all they could to sink their teeth into our flesh as they came at us and I shivered when I noticed how sharp their teeth were. There was nothing human looking about the teeth in the jaws of our bloodthirsty attackers. The closest thing I knew to compare it to was the teeth of a shark. One bite would deal a great deal of damage and pain to the recipient.
"Back up…we've got to get to the boat!" I shouted at Gordon and Robert.
We began walking backward, and as we did I could feel the first hint of fatigue in my arms and shoulders.
"I can't keep this up much longer, Captain!" Robert exclaimed, and there was a lot of concern in his tone. He fired his pistol and put a ball into the forehead of the cannibal in front of him. His target did not even have time to scream…it fell to the ground instantly and those behind him tripped over him. The thunderous sound of the gun seemed to startle our remaining attackers and for the first time I felt that we'd gotten a moment to catch our collective breaths.
"Run for it, now!" I shouted. I immediately turned and ran toward the longboat. I did not wait to see if Gordon and Robert were with me, if there was any chance of us making it we had to run at that precise moment. Any hesitation would probably result in a painful death.
Ahead of me I could see that Andrea, Langley, and Jolly Jack were already in the long boat. Joe and Hale had just placed the chest inside the boat and were frantically trying to get the vessel into deeper water. I now noticed that Robert and Gordon were on either side of me, both of them running at an obviously faster pace than I was. Remembering how the blast of the gun drove the cannibals back, I turned around as I ran and fired a ball into the crowd. My shot drove into the chest of one of them. This time the cannibal wailed in tremendous pain. He fell to his knees and I could see a steady stream of blood pouring from the wound. His counterparts did not seem as fazed by the blast this time and they just ran around their injured mate as if he were a large rock in the sand and nothing more.
"We're almost there!" Gordon shouted.
We were now in the surf and I could see that Joe had pushed the longboat into water that was waist deep. Hale Woodrow was headed back in our direction with a cutlass in each hand.
"Hale, go back to the boat," I commanded him, and then the worst thing that could possibly happen, did. Once we'd reached knee-deep water, Robert stumbled and fell on his hands and knees.
"Get up!" I screamed at him. I turned to assist him and as I reached down to grab his arm, I knew I was too late. Our attackers were on us and I had no time to get up and defend myself. Fortunately, Gordon Littleton was still by my side and he fired his pistol into the center of the wall of naked bodies as they scrambled over us. Although it slowed the attack, it was not going to give us enough time to save ourselves. Still, I jerked Robert from the swirling waters and I was prepared to take a couple of them with me to Davy Jones's locker before we were completely overwhelmed. It was at this dire moment that Hale arrived and begin cutting through the cannibals with both of his blades in a ferocity that I'd never seen in the gentle giant. Heads and limbs fell to the surf and the water turned
red all around us. Robert turned to help him, but I pushed him forward.
"Get to the longboat!" I shouted.
He did not argue, and Gordon followed him to the boat as it drifted further out to sea. I turned to assist Hale, and as I did so I heard the large man release a wail of pain. Both of his harms continued to hack and flail in wide, forceful swaths but I was still able to catch sight of a nasty wound on his forearm. Just I was about to rejoin the fight, it seemed that the vicious cannibals were finally to the point of retreating.
"Let's go Hale," I said, tugging at his shirt. "Get to the boat…quickly now."
He did as I commanded and I glanced at the wound on his arm as he cradled it with his good arm. A large chunk of flesh was missing. It had apparently been bitten out and it looked rather nasty.
Before I followed Hale to the longboat I took one last look at the carnage we'd left on the beach. The silver moon above revealed piles of bodies lying on a sandy carpet of red that led all the way to the surf. Between the cannibals that got away and the bodies left on the beach, I estimated we'd been attacked by at least 100 of them. There was no doubt in my mind we'd managed to slaughter all but a quarter of that number. When I finally reached the boat, I could barely swim anymore and for a brief moment feared that I would drown. I tried to get a grip on the side, but my hand slipped off. Fortunately Langley and Gordon were there to fish me out. I lay in the bottom of the boat for a long moment just trying to catch my breath.
"On my god," Andrea said softly. "Redd, are you alright?"
I nodded to her and then looked around. "How is Hale?"
"Not good," I heard Robert mutter from somewhere near the stern behind me. "Hopefully we can get him patched up when we get back on the ship."
I closed my eyes and nodded. I'd seen the wound and I knew it wasn't good at all. I turned a glance back to Andrea and I stared at her with narrowed eyes.
"This had better be worth it," I grumbled, placing a hand on the lid of the chest.
Chapter 15 :
Now that the crew and I were all safely on board Neptune's Castle, and with the horrors of the Isle of Blood behind us, I could finally focus on Trimble's mysterious chest that now rested upon the floor of my cabin. I took time to light extra candles so that the room was well lit; I wanted to get a good look at the item that was apparently so very precious to Captain Trimble. Andrea, Gordon, Joe and I surrounded the dirty chest and the only thing keeping us from exploring its contents was an old rusty lock. I retrieved one of Hale Woodrow's hammers and immediately took out my frustrations on the old lock, but it stubbornly held together. I angrily tossed the hammer aside and I noticed the other's jump when it banged against the wooden floor. No one said a word, but they could clearly see that I was upset. Robert Lynch suddenly opened the cabin door and stepped inside. There was blood on his hands; he was sweating, and visibly shaken.
"How is Hale?" I asked somberly.
Robert sighed and shook his head. He grabbed a rag from his back pocket and then took a pitcher of water that was sitting on a nearby table. He then wet the rag and began cleaning the dried blood off of his arms and hands.
"It doesn't look good," he replied, focusing only on his arms while he spoke. "He's lost a lot of blood…I patched him up the best I could but I'm no doctor. He needs medicine. He's sleeping right now but I have no idea how. He's burning up with fever."
"He has a fever already?" Gordon asked. "His injury occurred less than an hour ago."
"Yes, but there is no mistaking the fever," Robert replied. "You could fry an egg on his forehead right now. It came about very suddenly but it seems to have stabilized. I've got the men taking shifts watching him."
I took a breath and rubbed my eyes with my hands. I was exhausted, and I was sure the rest of the crew was as well. It was going to be hard enough getting sleep with the anticipation of the impending battle with Trimble looming over us. The news of Hale Woodrow's condition didn't make things any easier.
"Well there is nothing more that we can do for him now," I said. "His fate is in God's hands now."
There was a long moment of silence and I considered saying more, but truthfully, I just didn't know what else to say. At the moment, I figured the best thing to do was to return my frustrations upon the locked chest. I delivered no less than seven more solid blows upon the rusty shackle, when suddenly it broke loose. Everyone gathered around closer as I lifted the lid, and I could literally feel the anticipation in the room building. There was a wooden box within the chest and it fit inside a little too perfectly. It seemed to me that the box was built specifically to fit inside the chest. There was just barely enough room to get my fingers on either side of it and after a gentle tug, I had the box free. It was heavy, and no sooner had I lifted it out of the chest, I immediately set it on the floor. Fortunately the lid wasn't fastened down, and it lifted with ease. When I first gazed upon the contents, it took my mind a moment to comprehend exactly what I was looking at. It certainly wasn't what I was expecting and I could tell by the expressions on the faces of my shipmates that they felt the same bewilderment--well, except for Langley.
Oliver Langley's lips curved upward into a beaming smile, and his jovial mood must have looked odd in contrast to the swelling emotion of disappointment suddenly very evident in the rest of us.
"This is it?" I asked Andrea. "This is what we're depending on to give us a chance against your father?"
Andrea peered down at the contents of the box, she looked genuinely displeased, and it was obvious to me that she was just as confused as I was.
The box contained four rows of large bottles containing what appeared to be rum. I carefully pulled one of the bottles from the box and worked the cork loose. The heavy odor of the familiar brew filled my nostrils immediately, confirming my suspicions that the dark liquid was indeed rum.
"So I'm waiting on someone to explain to me why these bottles are what Hale Woodrow is suffering over at this very moment," Gordon snapped bitterly. "You mean to tell us that Captain Trimble loves his rum so much that he would be willing to bury it on an island full of blood-thirsty cannibals and it's so important that he will refrain from blowing us out of the water because he fears it'll be lost at sea?"
He was directing the ridiculous sounding question to me, and I in turn could do nothing but look to Andrea for some sort of answer.
"I don't know," she said, sounding defeated. "My uncle Morgan even recognized its importance…he was very reluctant to share the map with me. There has to be something else about it that we're not seeing."
"Well let's get on with popping the corks off of all of them then," Langley replied as he retrieved another bottle from the opposite end of the box.
I snatched it away from him and said, "No, we're not touching another bottle. We're going to put it all back and close the chest back up. There has to be some reason why it is vastly important to him, but quite frankly I do not care. If it'll give us a window of opportunity with the bloody scoundrel, then we'll use it."
Gordon shot a cold glare in my direction, a look I’d gotten all too used to seeing from him. Then he stormed out of the cabin, and everyone but Andrea followed.
“I’m having a hard time understanding why my father is so interested in a chest full of rum,” Andrea said when everyone had gone. “Maybe there is something in the bottles,” she added.
“Yes, there is something in the bottles,” I replied. “Rum is in the bottles...and nothing more.”
“Well, I assure you that these bottles have some sort of significant worth as far as my father is concerned. It will give us a fighting chance, and that is all you need. Right?”
“Aye,” I said, nodding. “I think it’s time all of us get some shut eye. We have a big day tomorrow.”
Andrea settled into my bed and was asleep in mere minutes. Something about that bothered me as it just seemed to me that she’d be a bundle of nerves the night before she confronted her father and, if everything went as planned, saw him die too. Whe
n I was certain that she’d fallen asleep, I too settled into bed beside her but it was not nearly as easy for me to do the same. After tossing and turning several times, I was suddenly surprised to find that Andrea had awakened again. She looked into my eyes and I knew immediately where her mind had wandered. She grabbed the back of my head and pushed her lips on to my own. My first thought was to fight off her advance, but it was a futile thought. Andrea, whether I liked it or not, was a very beautiful woman and her beauty was more than my conscience could handle. Before I knew it she’d slipped out of her breeches and removed her shirt. As I felt her bare breasts press against me I soon realized that my own clothes had somehow vanished before I’d even realized it had happened. Our love-making was brief, but it was full of passion. Neither of us spoke during the entire ordeal, and when it was over, Andrea drifted back off to sleep, her head on my chest. We stayed that way for probably another full hour and unfortunately I was still unable to join in her slumber.
A whisper from the doorway of my cabin startled me. I recognized the figure standing there to be Oliver Langley.
“Cap’n, come quick,” he whispered. “It’s Hale.”
I couldn’t see Langley’s face, but I could hear a strange tone of terror emanating from his voice. I feared that Hale Woodrow was probably breathing his final breaths. I quickly pulled my pants back on but didn’t waste time on a shirt or boots. I padded out onto the deck and Langley, rather forcefully, pulled me down low in a squatting position.
“What the bloody hell is the matter?” I asked him in a whisper.
“It’s Hale, Cap’n,” Langley responded, whimpering.
I looked around in both directions, trying to figure out why we were squatting. The moon provided just enough light for me to make out that Langley seemed to be shivering.
“What’s wrong with Hale? Has he died?”
Langley shook his head and said, “No, no…he’s not dead…he’s up and he’s on the poop deck right now.”
