Fire in the Hole (The Plundered Chronicles Book 3)

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Fire in the Hole (The Plundered Chronicles Book 3) Page 9

by Alex Westmore

Kwame, Fitz, and One Eye carefully rolled over onto their backs and lay with their open mouths towards the sky.

  “Ya too, Callaghan,” Connor said. “We live together, we die together. No one sacrifices.”

  Tavish was nodding. “Over ya go, laddie. We’ll get this barrel full in no time.”

  Quinn gently rolled onto her back, the rain beating against her face. The rain felt good in her mouth, and she could hardly believe she hoped it would not end. Without water, they’d be dead in less than three days.

  But she couldn’t allow herself to think those thoughts. She had to focus on keeping these men alive, and that meant keeping their spirits up.

  The one she worried about the most was One Eye. He was a wily character who could go either way. Unpredictable and prone to acts without thought, she worried he would just give up.

  Then there was Fitz.

  Fitz had come at her as an adversary she’d managed to transform into the most loyal of allies, even a friend. But he was a land man, not a natural born pirate, who had taken to the high seas a few years ago and had proven himself to be quite an asset.

  But land men were soft. They were not good swimmers—well, Grace’s men hadn’t been either until Quinn insisted she teach them. The idea that pirates couldn’t swim was a foreign one to Quinn. It was like having a bird that couldn’t fly.

  She wasn’t worried about the other three. They would survive out of sheer will or stubbornness.

  As she lay there with mouth open and eyes closed, her thoughts drifted back to the women in her life. If she perished out here, how long would the news take to reach them? Would Fiona, like Becca, outwardly mourn her? And what about Shea and Kennedy, her childhood friends? How would they react? Would they even be surprised?

  Then there was her father. And her brother, dear Paddy. How would they handle the news?

  As she quenched her thirst on water from the clouds, Quinn felt her body get heavy, her limbs like weights hung off the side of the barrel she rested precariously upon. When she opened her eyes again, the darkness grabbed Quinn by the throat. She struggled to sit up.

  “Easy there, laddie,” came Tavish’s soothing voice. “Ya slept through dusk. Everrabody is fine.”

  Slowly rolling over, she realized the rain had slowed to a mere mist, and the winds had died down significantly. With no moonlight, they were in utter darkness.

  “One Eye?”

  “The man sleeps like the dead,” Tavish replied. “But I’ve got him right here.”

  “Good. Good. Everraone else?”

  No one else replied.

  “Asleep. Restin’. Savin’ their energy. Come light, we’ll ken better what’s out there. With enna luck, we’ll see land somewhere.”

  Luck.

  Quinn wondered if maybe they hadn’t run out of it already.

  * * *

  “Connor?”

  “Aye. I’m awake.”

  “Ya were right.”

  “No matter now, Callaghan. Bein’ right, bein’ wrong, none of it matters.”

  “We’re gettin’ outta this, Connor, even if I have to swim to the continent myself.”

  “Ya cannot put a good spin on this, Callaghan. We’re in real trouble if day comes and we don’t see land. With no way of ennaone knowin’ where we are, we’ll die out here.”

  Quinn said nothing.

  Instead, she reached over and held Tavish’s thick wrist. He was actually snoring.

  They bobbed up and down in the water for several hours, the rain occasionally paying them a visit. There was no reprieve from the relentless waves as they curled over them like fingers wanting to pull them under.

  A part of Quinn feared sharks, but without knowing where they were exactly, she decided it was an irrational fear she could do nothing about anyway.

  Dying out here, however, was not irrational.

  “Callaghan?”

  “Aye, Connor?”

  “I’m not afraid of dyin’, ya know?”

  “Nobody’s dyin’, Connor. We just have to hang on until daylight.”

  “Aye. We’ve done our fair share of hangin’ on, though, haven’t we? Maybe we’ve run outta lives, ya know?”

  “Well, let’s say we have. What’s yer fondest memory?”

  “Of piratin’?”

  “Sure.”

  Connor chuckled. “I wouldn’t say it was my fondest, but I can’t say I’ll ever again see a woman wieldin’ a sword in one hand while holdin’ a baby in the other. Captain had as crazed a look as I ever seen her that day she came on deck with Tibbott in her arms–all that hair flyin’ like a lion’s mane, curse words leapin’ from her mouth. The enemy was so stunned, they paused to look, and we ran ’em through.” He chuckled. “Not many men can say they’ve ever witnessed that.”

  Quinn grinned. “She saved ya that day.”

  “Oh, aye she did. That day and many others.”

  “And she’ll save us this time as well. Grace is, as we speak, back on the Malendroke and combin’ the coastline fer us. She has to know we didn’t make it to shore. Ya’ve always had faith in her, Connor. Don’t stop now.”

  The waves rolled over them, slapping at the barrels, but other than that and the sound of Tavish snoring, it was quiet and still.

  Several minutes later, she could hear Connor’s deep breathing and was glad he was finally sleeping. They would need their strength when the day broke. Of that, she was certain.

  But how long could they last if shore was not in sight? How long could she ply them with false hope?

  Quinn felt her own hope waning–the product, she was sure, of the blanket of darkness covering them. So many things threatened them now: sharks, the elements, lack of water, and, of course, hopelessness. She would have to buoy them, keeping their spirits up, or all the rest wouldn’t matter.

  Reaching blindly into the barrel in the middle of them, Quinn felt the water line. With six of them using the water sparingly, she calculated it would last three days at the most.

  Three days.

  If they didn’t find land or weren’t rescued by then, it wouldn’t matter anyway.

  Dawn brought with it Quinn’s greatest fear.

  No land in sight.

  “So, laddie, what now?”

  Quinn looked into the haggard face of each man. “We let the current take us. One person must be awake and on the lookout fer ships. The rest, just keep yer head covered, sip water only when ya absolutely need it, and conserve yer energy.”

  “Do what?”

  “Save yer strength, Fitz. There will come a time when–”

  “Shark!” Kwame yelled, struggling to climb higher on the barrels.

  “Kwame, stop! Ya will tip over the water barrel!”

  Kwame was joined by Fitz, who also clambered on the barrels, tipping the water barrel so some water ran out.

  Tavish reared back and punched Fitz so hard he knocked him out. “Quit movin’, boyo, or ya will all get some of the same.”

  Connor grabbed Fitz before he could slide into the water.

  Kwame froze mid climb.

  “If Callaghan says that water is our life, I’ll kill the next one of ya who spills a fookin’ drop. Are we clear?” Tavish growled.

  Everyone nodded.

  “Good. If that shark wants ya, there’s nothin’ ya can do to stop it. We are at the mercy of the sea, lads. Embrace that fact.”

  The shark’s fin began circling around the group.

  Quinn thought she’d felt fear before, but it was nothing compared to the fear of being eaten alive. Never, in all of her years on the ship, had she felt more vulnerable.

  “Maybe we should kick our legs,” Connor offered.

  “No. That won’t keep it from attackin’. Tavish is right. If it wants us, it will take us. One at a time.”

  “And then more will come.”

  “Aye.” Quinn said. “And then it’ll be time to say yer prayers, but not before then. Nobody gives up before then.”

  “I don’t wann
a be eaten,” One Eye said. “Kill me fer that happens.”

  “Nobody does, and nobody is killin’ ennaone else. Why don’t we just... just sing.”

  Everyone stared at Quinn, who broke into one of the many tavern songs the men sang when drunk.

  Sinne Fianna Fáil,

  Atá Fá gheall ag Éirinn,

  Buidhean dár sluagh tar rúinn do ráinig chughainn:

  Fámhoídh bheírh saor,

  Sean-tír ár sinnsear feasta

  Ní fágfar fá'n tíorán ná fa'n tráil;

  Anocht a theigeamh sa bhearna baoghail,

  Le gean ar Gaedhí chun báis nó saoghail,

  Le gunna sgréach: Fá lamhach na piléar.

  Seo Libh canaidh amhrán na bhFiann.

  Tavish was the first to join in.

  Then Connor.

  Then the rest.

  They sang one, then two, then three songs. When they finished, none had noticed the fin was no longer breaking the surface.

  So they kept singing.

  Half an hour later, they stopped.

  “It’s gone,” Connor said softly.

  “Cause ya canna carry a tune to save yer soul,” Tavish said.

  They all laughed.

  If Quinn could keep them busy, keep their spirits up, they might make it through the day.

  And they did.

  Day two bled into night two, and by dusk they were exhausted, starving, and very still.

  Peering through the moonlit sky, Quinn felt her own hope ebb slowly away. They weren’t going to make it out of this one.

  They were running out of water. She estimated it would not last through another day.

  What then?

  “Tavish?” she whispered.

  “Aye?”

  “Enna ideas?”

  “Not a one, lad. Not a single fookin’ one. We doona have much time left, and there’s plenty I need to tell ya–”

  “Wait.” Quinn squinted through the darkness. “Is that... do you see a light? Over your left shoulder?”

  Tavish rocked the barrels slightly as he moved to see what Quinn was pointing to.

  “I’ll be damned. It is! Too far away to hear us.”

  “But that means we could be close to land.”

  “Or a sailin’ lane, at least.”

  Buffeted by a sliver of hope, Quinn inhaled deeply. She was so hungry, her stomach rebelled loudly. Licking her cracked lips, she laid her head down. She was so weary. “Maybe it’s Grace. Right? Or the Spanish. Or–” and then she fell fast asleep.

  “Callaghan! Wake up!”

  Quinn’s eyes popped open. Connor was shaking her. “Ship?”

  “No. One Eye is gone.”

  Quinn frowned. “Gone?” Looking over at where One Eye had been, she saw that there was no One Eye and no barrel. “How did he get untied?”

  Fitz held up the end of the rope that had been attached to One Eye. “Musta come undone.”

  “And the barrel?” Quinn grabbed the rope that should have been around his barrel.

  “It’s been cut.” Quinn examined the end of the rope that had been retied around Fitz’s.

  “He cut himself away.” Connor said. “He fuckin’ gave up. I can’t believe he would be such a coward.”

  “Why take the barrel?” Fitz asked.

  “He doesn’t want to die near us.”

  Kwame cleared his throat. “One Eye is older than us. He did not quit. He is saving the water for those who are younger and stronger. It is the way of a courageous man.”

  They all nodded in agreement.

  “Then when we drink water again, we will toast to our brave friend,” Connor said.

  “But ennaone else thinkin’ of sacrificin’ is gonna have to tell me first,” Quinn said. “We’re not givin’ up that easily, men. I’ll give a salute to One Eye, but no more.”

  “Tavish said ya saw a ship last night,” Connor said.

  “Aye. Where there’s one... ”

  But one did not come.

  By the end of the day, the water was gone, and Quinn knew their lives were now on the clock.

  When darkness fell once more, the men were exhausted, parched, and beginning to lose all hope. Even Quinn had little energy left with which to keep hope alive.

  When the rain fell lightly, everyone turned onto their backs, but it wasn’t enough to sate anyone’s thirst this time.

  As Quinn lay there, she wondered about One Eye’s decision to end his life without so much as a word of goodbye. She wondered how she would have done it.

  “Callaghan?” Connor whispered.

  “Aye?”

  “It’s been a pleasure servin’ with ya.”

  “Connor, don’t–”

  “Not this time, Callaghan. I’m gonna say what needs be said. Ya’ve proven to be one of the best mates the Malendroke has ever had. Ya are a decent swordsman, an okay sailor, and an excellent crewmate. I thank ya fer yer friendship.”

  Quinn was glad it was too dark for him to see her.

  “It’s been my pleasure, Connor. Thank ya fer bringin’ me on board Captain O’Malley’s ship. It has been an adventure of a lifetime.”

  The next few hours were spent in silence. If anyone was watching for passing ships, Quinn didn’t know and couldn’t tell. She was too tired to look and could barely keep her eyes open or her head up.

  When dawn came and the sun replaced the moon, Quinn knew this might be their last day alive. Already, Fitz was beginning to see things that weren’t there. He would lift his head and babble for a moment before laying it back down. Kwame wanted to drink the salt water, but Tavish wouldn’t let him. If they survived the night, tomorrow would be a living hell, especially if they started dying.

  Quinn didn’t know how she was going to handle that, and for the first time she thought she understood why One Eye had left the way he did.

  He’d known they were doomed.

  “Callaghan?” Tavish whispered, his voice rough and scratchy.

  “I’m awake, my friend.”

  “Ya ken Fiona loves ya, right?”

  Quinn was taken aback. She’d not expected that line of discussion. “Aye.”

  “Women... they can’t help who they love. Sometimes it’s the right one; more often than not, it isna.”

  Quinn waited for more.

  “In another time, in another place, ya’d be the right one.”

  When no more came, Quinn reached over and patted his shoulder. “Thank you for that, Tavish. If we live through this, I’ll make those changes in my life.”

  “Aye. Better to be with one who fits than with one who wishes to.”

  “Ah, fer bloody hell, Tavish McGee, shut the fuck up.” Connor’s voice rose above the waves. “Has the sun made ya gone daft? Do ya think yer a Buddha or somethin’?”

  Tavish chuckled. “I’m a far wiser man than ya, Connor McBride.”

  “All of ya, shut it a moment.” It was Fitz. “Ya can all live a few days longer if ya eat me.”

  No one said a word.

  “I can’t do this. I’m seein’ me dead ma and me uncle who gave me this.” He held out a triquesta necklace. Callaghan, just kill me while I sleep and use my body fer–”

  “No one is gonna eat ya, Fitz.” Quinn said softly. “And ya know why not?”

  “‘Cause Fitz’s meat would be tougher’n leather and barely tastier than cow dung,” Connor quipped.

  They all chuckled.

  “I’m not daft, and I’m not kiddin’. Cannibals do it all the time. If ya stay alive a few more days–”

  “We are outta water, Fitz. We don’t have a few more days, but even if we did, I could never kill ya fer food.”

  “I could,” Kwame said softly. “Meat is meat. Once he’s dead–”

  “Oh man,” Connor groaned. “Kwame, don’t make me sleep with one eye open, ya soulless motherfucker.”

  Kwame gnashed his teeth together. “Maybe I’ll eat you first, Connor.”

  They all laughed and when it was
quiet once more, Quinn quietly said. “Rest, everraone. Tomorrow will be a long day without water, and no one is drinkin’ the seawater nor bein’ eaten fer food. Are we all clear on that?”

  A bunch of ‘ayes’, followed by silence.

  Quinn was almost asleep when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

  “Callaghan?” It was Connor whispering in her ear. “I’ve known fer a long time... and I never cared, nor did I ever let on.”

  “Thank ya,” Quinn said softly, before falling asleep with Connor’s hand on her shoulder and her hand on Tavish’s wrist.

  It seemed like the sun and the elements were conspiring against them. There was no wind to speak of, and the rays beating down upon their backs felt ten times hotter than the day before.

  Twice she had thought this a good time to tell them men the truth about her, but then she thought better of it. If they suddenly started distrusting her, they would never make it out of this alive.

  If that was even possible.

  Twice, Fitz tried drinking the sea water, and both times Tavish knocked him out. Quinn was only mildly surprised Tavish still had the strength to do so.

  As the midday sun baked them, Quinn saw Fiona and Becca hovering above the water. They were holding hands and looking down upon her with great sadness in their eyes. Yes, they would be sad to hear she had been lost in a storm. Sad but not surprised. Especially not Becca.

  Then came Shea and Kennedy. They looked so beautiful in their long dresses and coiffed hair. They were beautiful women who, unlike Fiona and Becca, appeared angry, their eyes smoldering.

  They would never truly understand what it was like to be a woman who loved women. To desire one forbidden to you was much like being surrounded by all this water and not being able to drink it.

  “I’m sorry,” Quinn whispered, her lips cracking and bleeding from even minimal movement.

  They faded and were replaced by Bronwen and Grace.

  This odd pairing made Quinn rise up slightly.

  “It is not your time yet,” the druid priestess said. “This world is not yet done with you.”

  Quinn blinked rapidly as she glanced over at Grace, who was nodding. “Yer gonna be fine, Callaghan. I’m comin’ fer ya, and I better not be rescuin’ dead bodies, ya hear me? Yer gonna be fine. Yer gonna make it back to the ship.”

  Ship.

  Ship.

  Ship!

 

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