by Perrin Briar
“Submersible?” Zoe said. “You mean, like a submarine?”
“Yes,” Bryan said. “A one-man submarine.”
“I don’t understand,” Cassie said. “I didn’t know they had submarines back then, in this time.”
“They didn’t,” Bryan said. “At least, nothing as advanced as what we saw under the surface.”
“But what is it doing here?” Zoe said.
“I would have thought that much was obvious,” Bryan said. “It’s here to sink the Mary Celeste.”
42
IT WAS ALMOST comically easy. It was the future of warfare—the real future—and if Admiral had a little music to listen to, he would have been totally at ease. He was now a discrete distance from the hull of the Mary Celeste, invisible to everyone aboard and able to attack at will. It was a huge advantage.
A pair of white feathers splashed from a pair of oars as a small ship’s boat was propelled out to sea. Whoever they were, they were smart to get away so quickly. Soon, there wouldn’t even be much of a ship remaining.
Admiral operated the vehicle via two levers. One lever was responsible for turning left and right on its X-axis, the other, up and down on its Y-axis. It had been complicated at first, but once Admiral got the hang of it, it was as easy as riding a horse.
Curious that the thrumming in the engine should also be called ‘horsepower’. He had checked and found no sign of any horses at all. In fact, he couldn’t think of a less conducive location to store horses.
The weapon system was of his own engineers’ design, and it showed. It lacked any of the advanced designs of the ship—or pod, as the schematics insisted. It was a simple package of gunpowder with a timer attached to it, creating a spark. Admiral controlled these packages by attaching them to the limpet-encrusted undersides of enemy ships and retreating to a safe distance. It was not fancy, but served its purpose. Devastatingly so.
Some might have used the superior technology to dominate the waves, but Admiral wished to use it only to cleanse the ocean of pirate scum. And if the British couldn’t do it in the full view of the public, then Admiral would do it from the shadows.
An investigation would prove none of The Revenge’s cannons had been fired, save a warning shot across the Celeste’s bow, and conclude the ship must have been destroyed by an onboard error, as it had been assumed with the other pirate ships.
Admiral knew better. It had been him and his little underwater pod that had sunk them.
Due to operating under the sea, the little pod could not run on wind power. It ran instead on black oil that was fed into the machine via pipes. The pod could then propel itself forward, controlled by a pedal in the floor.
It was a marvel of engineering, engineering not of this world, of that Admiral was quite certain. And because it wasn’t of this world, it was devastatingly effective.
He pressed the pedal down, and the pod zipped forward. He had one more explosive package left. It would be enough to sink the Mary Celeste and Stoneheart’s legend once and for all.
43
“THERE’S SOMETHING in the water!” Skinny said. “Look!”
The crew followed his shaking finger to the rounded shape illuminated by a bright light under the surface. The crew crossed themselves, eyes boggling.
“It’s a monster!” Smithy said.
“It’s the kraken!” Skinny said. “I saw his tentacles! I saw its giant arms! It’ll kill us all!”
“Sir, we must abandon the Celeste,” Smithy said to the captain.
“Prepare the cannons!” Stoneheart said. “Aim at the creature and fire.”
“But sir-” Smithy said.
“Are you refusing to follow orders?” Stoneheart said, sliding his knife from the scabbard at his waist.
Smithy gritted his teeth.
“No, sir,” he said. “Of course not.”
Stoneheart turned to the rest of the crew.
“Yes, there might be a monster coming to claim us, but we won’t go down without a fight!” he said. “Men at arms!”
The men moved with uncharacteristic hesitation, wary and cautious. They spilled the gunpowder on the deck and dropped heavy cannonballs. They loaded the cannons and angled them down, aiming directly at the glowing monster below.
“Ready on your orders, Captain,” Smithy said.
“Fire,” Stoneheart said.
“Fire!” Smithy bellowed.
The cacophonous explosions filled the air, rattling off, sending up puffs of thick black smoke. The balls struck the water, but didn’t pierce deeply. Some only skimmed the surface like a tossed stone.
The men loaded the cannons again and fired. Most of the shots missed, a couple seeming to strike the monster deadon. They didn’t seem to have much effect, and the monster kept coming.
The air grew thick with smoke, until the pirates couldn’t even see what they were aiming at.
“Cease firing,” Stoneheart said.
“Cease firing!” Smithy said.
The smoke dissipated. The pirates were silent as they appraised the water’s surface.
“It’s gone,” Skinny said. “It’s gone! I think we hit it! It’s dead! Woohoo!”
He danced a merry jig on the deck.
“If that’s true, where’s the blood?” Peg Leg said.
“There!” Skinny said.
He pointed to a patch of black that spread thickly across the surface.
“Black blood?” Peg Leg said, turning pale.
The pirates crossed themselves again.
“It’s a monster,” Skinny said. “Why would it have blood like a man?”
The Mary Celeste groaned and shifted in the water as if trying to find a better position. The crew clung to the mast and hand railing as she tilted over. The water was flooding the ship. She leaned dangerously to one side.
“She’s going to roll over, Captain,” Smithy said. “We have to evacuate.”
Stoneheart pressed his lips together.
“Very well,” he said. “Evacuate.”
Relieved, Smithy issued the orders.
Stoneheart adjusted his clothing and kissed his fingers. He pressed them gently to the Celeste’s main mast. He smiled in thanks to her, to everything she had done for him, for his crew. But now they must part. Like all partings, it was painful. She’d been with him every step of the way, present during every adventure. She had never let him down.
His crew jumped from the Celeste and climbed into the ship’s boats that had been knocked loose. Other crewmembers were working to release the other boats from the deck.
But there was one ship’s boat, farther away than the others, that was already rowing to safety. Bile rose in the back of Stoneheart’s throat, threatening to make him retch with fury.
Those yellow livered cowards, he thought. They’ll pay for fleeing the Celeste before I gave the order.
And then he noticed the color of the cowards’ clothes. It was the family.
“Where’s Jim?” Stoneheart said to Smithy, realizing he hadn’t seen him in some time.
“He went below,” Smithy said. “To aid the prisoners.”
Stoneheart thought back to the Celeste rolling over, playing dead. The cargo holds would be flooded. Jim was a strong swimmer and wouldn’t have lost his life so easily.
And then he noticed the family had gained a new member as they fled. Jim stood on the stern of the ship’s boat. Stoneheart would have recognized him anywhere. Jim had abandoned the Celeste, had abandoned Stoneheart, but Stoneheart would not abandon him.
A sailor was lost without a set course. And Stoneheart had just set his.
44
NOXIOUS FUMES filled the little pod, making Admiral gag. He realized then the danger of using a machine that attacked from beneath the sea. There was little to keep the surrounding water from spilling in through the spidery cracks in the windscreen.
When Admiral had seen the cannonballs striking the water’s surface, he had laughed, believing himself invincible. He wanted
the pirates to try and stop him, knowing they couldn’t prevent their own deaths.
Then one of the cannonballs struck the hard glass. There had been a sickening crunch. Admiral had not only heard it, but felt it in the pit of his stomach. The feeling of loss.
The cannonball had lodged itself in the glass, temporarily blocking the hole and keeping seepage small. Red lights flashed on the control panel. Admiral didn’t know what they meant, but it couldn’t have been good.
He peeled away from the surface and into the depths, cursing himself for being so foolhardy. Even the greatest weapons had their weaknesses. He needed to head back to The Revenge, to call upon Chief Engineer to patch it up so he could finish off the Mary Celeste.
He tapped on the oil indicator. It was showing the engine was half empty. Admiral frowned. It should have been more than two thirds full. He must have a leak.
Then he saw feathery shapes above him, half a dozen rhythmic pulses heading away from the stricken Celeste. A smile lit Admiral’s face.
The Mary Celeste was a lost cause. It was the only reason Stoneheart and his crew would abandon her. Now they had come to him so he might finish his job. That was nice of them.
Admiral turned the wheels and began to ascend toward them. The pod could last long enough to wipe out the crew. Happy days.
45
THE MONSTER’S black blood covered a large swathe of the water’s surface. The men wanted to go around it, but to do so would have taken too long. Stoneheart ordered them to go through it.
The men were silent, looking directly ahead, unable to prevent themselves from peering down at the spillage that caked their hulls.
Stoneheart leaned over the side and put his finger in the water. It came out black. His crew stared with bulging eyes. Stoneheart sniffed the blood and then pressed his thumb to it, feeling the texture.
“Oil,” Stoneheart said. “It’s oil. Not blood.”
“Some kraken are known to have ink black as night,” Skinny said. “Sucks your soul from you if you touch it, so they say.”
Stoneheart slid a finger across Skinny’s face, leaving a smear. Skinny dropped his oar and screamed like a child waking from a nightmare. He rubbed at his face with his shirt, and then took the shirt off and threw it over the side.
Stoneheart roared with laughter.
“Get back to rowing,” he said. “Or you’ll be bathing in it.”
Skinny didn’t need more motivation. He dropped into his seat and rowed hard.
The family ship’s boat was just a couple hundred yards ahead. Their headstart wouldn’t save them. Stoneheart’s crew were tough, used to the oar, their technique practiced. They would catch up in no time.
46
THE JOURNEY might have been pleasant if the pirates weren’t hot on their tail. The land was coming up nicely, and the family would be on it soon, but the pirates were catching up—their movements were well-timed, their technique perfect. The family’s head start was beginning to wane. There was no way they were going to stay ahead. At this rate, they might arrive at the island the same time as the pirates.
“Wait a minute,” Aaron said.
“What… is… it?” Bryan said between each pull on the oars.
“The island…” Aaron said. “It’s… No, it can’t be.”
“What?” Zoe said, her face flush with exertion.
“It’s the same one we first arrived at!” Aaron said. “The one with the fog! Look! There’s where we made our fire! And there, where we headed into the forest for food! And the tree we dragged onto the beach! It’s the same one!”
“Aaron’s right,” Cassie said. “It’s the same.”
It was enough to give Bryan and Zoe pause for thought, but they didn’t stop to turn and look back. They were fully committed now.
“Then we know the area,” Bryan said. “There is another island beside it. We might be able to hide behind it. Zoe, veer right.”
They pulled harder with their left hands, veering right.
“We’re not going to get there,” Cassie said, her voice distant with fear.
“Of course we are,” Bryan said. “We don’t have much farther to go.”
Cassie raised a finger, pointing behind them. Bryan and Zoe glanced over their shoulders. They paused, double took, and then froze. They dropped their oars.
“It’s the fog,” Cassie said. “It’s getting dark, and the fog is coming. And you know what the fog brings with it…”
The fog came from behind, and submerged the pirates first, losing them to view.
“Monsters aren’t real,” Bryan said.
“You heard them that night,” Cassie said. “We all did.”
“Cassie’s right,” Jim said. “There are things in this world that are a mystery to us. Demons in the deep dark. They are not to be underestimated.”
“Row,” Bryan said to Zoe. “If we’re lucky, we might get to the island before anything can catch us. Row.”
And then the screams began.
47
THE SHROUD of fog came with the darkness as the warmth of the sunlight left them. Within moments the fog was thick, and Stoneheart could no longer make out his men in the other boats.
“Keep moving forward!” Stoneheart bellowed.
The swish of oars was soft, but was carried with the moisture in the air.
Smithy dropped his oar and leaped back, crawling into a crevice in the stern of the ship’s boat.
“What’s wrong with you?” Skinny said.
“That’s a long list,” Earl said.
“Something gripped my oar!” Smithy said. “I swear! Something grabbed it!”
Skinny crossed himself and clutched the crucifix beneath his shirt with both hands. His lips moved in a prayer Stoneheart was surprised he knew.
“Get up!” Stoneheart said. “Get back to your oar you scum-sucking lily-livered dog!”
Smithy gibbered, casting frantic glances at the other men. They were all afraid, but they didn’t back him up. Smithy got to his feet and retook his seat.
“The real monster is in here,” Stoneheart said, jabbing a thumb at his chest. “We destroyed the monster. We killed it. We, the crew of the Mary Celeste, laid to rest what no other man has even attempted before. Now, row!”
There was a roar of voices behind them, hidden by the curtain of fog. A loud rending of wood, and a thunderous rush of water.
Stoneheart and his crew were silent. The sea joined them in their silent wide-eyed vigil.
A piece of wood floated toward them. Smithy bent over the side to pick it up. He showed it to the others. It belonged to the prow of a ship’s boat. He gently placed it back in the water as if making a tribute.
“Help me!” a voice called out.
It was Peg Leg, floundering in the water, swimming toward them. He was making slow, pained progress.
“Help!” he repeated.
But none of Stoneheart’s men lifted a finger.
“We should get him aboard,” Smithy said, his voice lacking conviction.
“He’ll attract the beast to us,” Skinny said.
Peg Leg sank beneath the surface, and then came back up again. He wasn’t going to make it.
Stoneheart took hold of Smithy’s oar and held it over the side for Peg Leg to grip. Peg Leg reached for it, but swallowed a mouthful of water. He tried again, and his hand slipped weakly off the smooth wood of the oar.
“Grab it, you son of a limp jackrabbit!” Stoneheart said.
Peg Leg did, pinching the wood between his thumb and fingers. Stoneheart pulled at the oar, dragging the man toward their ship’s boat. Peg Leg grabbed the side.
“What happened?” Stoneheart said.
“A beast,” Peg Leg said. “It came from the depths and dragged us down, down, down. I saw its flashing teeth, its gaping jaws. I was able to slip between its tentacles and kick my way to the surface. Please, get me out of the water. I’ll never enter the water again as long as I live, I swear.”
Stoneheart
took hold of the man, pulling on his arms. Peg Leg was half in the boat when Stoneheart felt a slight tug. Peg Leg felt it too. He looked up into Stoneheart’s eyes, fear growing.
“No…” Peg Leg said.
His scream was muffled by water as he was yanked back, into the sea. Stoneheart let Peg Leg go only at the last moment, almost falling over the side into the water himself. Bubbles rumbled up, Peg Leg’s last breath snuffed out.
More shouts, closer this time, still concealed by the mask of fog. Flashes of light popped into existence from pistol fire. Fireworks in a dream.
“No!” a voice screamed. “It’s got me! It’s got me!”
The man’s screams came to a sticky blood curdling end.
“Row!” Stoneheart ordered his men.
“But the men-” Smithy said, his voice haunted and hollow.
“They’re already dead,” Stoneheart said. “Row!”
The crew did, doing their best to block out the screams of their fellow crewmembers.
48
THE WATER slapped the ship’s boat’s hull. To anyone unacquainted with such things, it may not have sounded out of the ordinary. But a pirate listened to that sound day-in and day-out. Why it should sound unnatural, Stoneheart couldn’t say. But every fiber of his being was screaming in fear.
“Stop,” Stoneheart said.
The men did, pulling their oars up to hover over the water’s surface. They were encased in fog on all sides. There was no escaping it, no way to know if they were heading in the right direction, even. The fog was like smoke and constricted Stoneheart’s throat, making him choke.
“How are we going to get out of here if we don’t row?” Smithy whispered.
Stoneheart placed his finger to his lips for silence. He kept his eyes on the water. They would wait all night if they had to, for the fog to clear. They needed a distraction, something for the beast to focus on while they made their escape. But they had nothing aboard. And then Stoneheart looked up.