The Devil's Tide

by Tomerlin, Matt

  The monsters gathered outside, waiting patiently.

  ANNABELLE

  The four men Teach had named were easily fetched. Once she found Ogle, who stood out like a sore thumb, she told him to summon Peter Lively, Gabe Jenkins, and Red Devil. All four had two things in common. They were highly respected among the crew, and they owed various debts to Blackbeard. For their covert meeting, Ogle suggested a cave he had discovered while searching for treasure chests. As Annabelle wandered alone through the jungle, with twilight darkening the sky, she hoped Teach had been right about the loyalty of these men. If he was wrong, she would likely be raped and murdered.

  "They won't pluck a hair from your pretty head," Teach had assured her, but her confidence was waning with every step further into the jungle. She thought she'd have enough light, but she quickly regretted not bringing a torch. Croaking frogs, buzzing insects, and chirping birds merged to form an incessant chorus. A beetle the size of a walnut zipped toward her, colliding with her forehead before altering its course. She set a hand on a tree, and a long lizard slithered over her fingers, needlelike claws gripping her skin.

  If she disappeared out here, no one would question her absence but Nathan Adams.

  Slipping out of the tent had been easy. Nathan was too occupied with supervising his crew as they ferried the chests from shore to Crusader. She had counted nine chests in total. There were supposed to be four more, but after Blackbeard's visit, the pirates seemed eager to leave.

  She had been here less than a day, and so far she and Nathan hadn't consummated their reunion. After their first meeting, he returned with a plain brown shirt and black breeches for her to wear, instead of the skimpy robe Teach had presented her in. She tried to undress in front of him, but he made a hasty exit before the robe hit the floor. She found the clothes uncomfortable. She had been so used to wearing next to nothing for most of her adult life, but without the protection of Blackbeard, it was probably best not to tempt this crew.

  After that, Nathan checked in occasionally throughout the day, briefly making eye contact and then departing prematurely. He didn't know how to function around her. Joy and confusion seemed to be fighting a war within him, and she wasn't sure which was winning, nor did she care to find out. There was a time when that sort of thing would have endeared her, but now she just found it needlessly frustrating. Nathan had obviously been through hell—and emerged with one less arm—but he was still every bit the indecisive boy she had spent a month with in Nassau.

  If he hadn't left her there, things would be so much different. She had been so naïve then. She knew she couldn't go back to that life even if she wanted to.

  Nathan, you idiot. It was sad how utterly foolish he looked when she first entered the tent, with his mouth hanging open and a little smile struggling at the edges. Was he really that stupid? The coincidence was so unfathomable, she hardly believed it herself. Perhaps that's why he couldn't look at her. He didn't trust her.

  She smirked. No. A man who distrusts a woman does not shamefully pull his eyes from her. Nathan clearly felt guilty for leaving her behind. He had chosen piracy over her, and that choice had cost him more than he bargained for.

  I'll show you a real pirate, Nathan.

  Eventually, Annabelle came to a small clearing in the jungle, with two trees crisscrossing at the center, and she turned left just as Ogle had instructed. His directions were made easier by his leftover footprints, which remained in the muddy patches. She almost took a wrong turn once or twice, and then another footprint would clue her to the correct path.

  After several twists and turns and no shortage of maddening uncertainty, the jungle opened onto the base of the mountain at the center of the island. At the foot was a black cave, with a yawning entrance wide enough to fit the bow of a sloop through. Cold air swept out of the darkness, riddling her arms with goose bumps. She heard a constant rush of water from somewhere deep within.

  "Took your time," sounded a gruff voice from the black.

  She nearly shuddered. "Who's there?"

  "Who do you think?"

  The man slowly stepped out of the darkness, and then she caught the familiar shine of his bald head. His gut jiggled as he walked, but the muscles of his arms and legs were hard as the rocky walls of the cave. He smiled obscenely. "The others aren't here yet. What should we do while we wait?"

  "You're too big for me," Annabelle smirked.

  "You're used to little men like Adams?"

  "I'm used to men, not giants," she countered.

  "Once you've had a giant inside you, you won't want a man."

  She lowered her head and pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger, closing her eyes. "My employer would kill you if he knew we were having this conversation."

  Ogle kept his smile, but one of his eyelids flickered. "I trust he knows a jest when he hears one."

  "He knows a jest," Annabelle replied with a sweet smile, "but he might not find it very funny."

  That shut him up.

  They waited in silence outside the cave. The sky was completely dark and littered with stars by the time Lively, Jenkins, and Red Devil arrived. Red Devil was carrying a torch, and the flickering orange glow made his skin appear blood red in the night.

  "Shall we, gents?" said Ogle, intoning the air of a British gentleman as he gestured toward the cave.

  "After you," said Jenkins, adopting a similarly haughty tone.

  "No you first," Ogle replied.

  "No I insist, ladies first."

  Annabelle slipped between them and descended into the cave. She heard them giggling like little boys behind her. She shook her head wearily. These are the men he tells me to rely on? I'll be lucky to leave this cave with my life, let alone my clothes.

  The cave gradually blossomed with orange light as the four men fell in behind her. Red Devil remained in back, his torch casting their shadows upon the uneven walls. She wondered how deep this cave went. The rush of water filled her ears, echoing loudly. She would have to raise her voice to be heard. She cleared her throat and turned to face them. "You know who I serve."

  "Served him well, I'd wager," laughed Lively, nudging Jenkins in the ribs, who winced and glowered in return.

  Annabelle had to force herself not to stare at Jenkins, as he was an extremely attractive young man. She liked the way his thick long hair curled so naturally about his chiseled face. She cleared her throat. "I'm here to remind you of your obligation."

  Lively's laugh faded down the cave, lost to the sound of water. He crossed his arms. "Yeah, I know who you serve, and apparently he knows me. But he don't know me well enough to summon me like a dog. I crewed with him but a month. We're all of us free men, last I looked. I don't recall signing no contract when I stepped aboard Queen Anne's Revenge. How about you gents?" Lively looked around for support, but Ogle and Jenkins suddenly looked anxious, heads angled away from their loudmouthed friend.

  Red Devil merely smirked at the back of Lively's head. When he spoke, his voice seemed to rumble across the walls like thunder rolling over the sea. "You'd do well to mind your tongue, boy."

  "You'd do well to let your brain talk instead of your cunt," Lively shot back. "I'm not scared of you, red man, and I'm certainly not scared of some pirate with delusions of grandiosity. What, he wears black and lights his beard on fire, so I'm supposed to piss meself at every mention of his name?"

  Red Devil shook his head slowly and merely said, "Hmm."

  Jenkins moved to the wall and started picking at a small jut of rock, trying not to look as nervous as he clearly was. "What carved this cave, you think? Water?"

  "Water carves everything," Red Devil said.

  Jenkins frowned. "Strange we put so much of it in our bellies. I'm sticking with rum from now on."

  Lively scoffed. "If the oceans were filled with rum in place of water, the whole bloody world would burn through."

  Annabelle rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you can continue this discussion later. I need to know
which of you I can count on. More importantly, I need to know which of you Blackbeard can count on, because he will surely dispose of those he can't, when the time comes."

  Ogle spoke first. "What is it you'd be counting on us to do?"

  "Remove obstacles."

  Ogle placed his hands flat on his great round belly. "When you say 'obstacles,' would you be meaning 'people'?"

  "People who would cause a problem, yes. But they mustn't be removed one at a time. They mustn't suspect anything is amiss until it's too late. They must all be removed at the same instant."

  "Jesus," Lively exclaimed. "She'd have us murder our mates in cold blood."

  "Starting with you," Annabelle said, aiming a finger at him. She nearly hesitated, but the words were out of her mouth before she gave them leave. She needed to know they would do as she instructed, and Lively was the weak link of the group.

  Lively's face went sour. "What did you just say?"

  The torch fell, embers cascading down the rocky floor. Red Devil seized Lively by the scruff of his shirt and secured him easily. Lively squirmed in the huge man's grip, but it was no use. Red Devil's knife was at the boy's throat in a flash.

  "Not you, Red," Annabelle said with a raised hand. She knew Red Devil was a killer from the moment she had laid eyes on him. She didn't need to test his willingness.

  She looked to Jenkins. "You do it."

  The light of the dying torch did little to soften the white sheet that passed over Jenkins' pretty face. His Adam's apple bobbed in his thick neck as he swallowed. "Do what, miss?"

  "Take out your pistol and put a bullet in your friend's skull."

  Lively loosed a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a snivel. "This is a joke. Yes, it's a joke. I get it now. Very funny. You made your point. Let me go and I'll mind me tongue. It gets away from me sometimes."

  "Yes," Annabelle said. "That's what concerns me."

  "It need concern you no more," Lively assured her.

  She moved closer, looking into his eyes. "I believe you," she said. "But I need to know that your friends will do what I command."

  "They will," Lively bleated. "I know they will."

  "I'm not convinced," she said. "Right now I think your friends are considering shooting me instead."

  Ogle confirmed her suspicion with a keen nod. "I can't say I fancy a bitch telling me who I can or can't kill."

  A surge of adrenaline filled Annabelle's chest. She was acutely aware that she was enjoying the imminent danger of the situation. She advanced on Ogle, knowing it might be the last move she ever made. "And you'd get away with it." She cocked her head, allowing herself a sly smile. "At least, you'd think you got away with it. And then one day, when you least expected it, maybe a month from now or maybe even a year, he would come for you, just as he came for Benjamin Hornigold. He specifically named you four men. Do you honestly think he'll let you get away with murdering me? I think a part of him wants you to do it."

  Ogle's eyelids fluttered uncertainly.

  She called over her shoulder, "Jenkins! Why haven't you shot this man yet?"

  Stone-faced, Jenkins drew a pistol from his navy blue sash.

  Ogle looked down at the floor.

  Red Devil was grinning, rows of white teeth splitting his crimson face.

  Lively started to sob desperately. "No, Gabe."

  Jenkins leveled the pistol at Lively's temple. Lively tried to twist out of the barrel's line of sight, but Red Devil clutched a handful of his hair and held him in place.

  "Gabe," Lively sniveled, snot dribbling out of his nose. "Gabe, no. Remember that time we—"

  The shot brightened the cave and cracked in Annabelle's ears. For an instant she saw Lively's face frozen in the flash, a small red dot in his temple, mouth drooping open, and one eye closed. Annabelle squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them, a cloud of smoke roiled toward her. She clenched her teeth and struggled not to cough, but a muffled choke belched from her throat. She waved the smoke away. The three men were staring down at Lively's limp body. The shot was clean, with no exit wound. Just a hole in his temple, with a thin line of blood streaming into his hair.

  Ogle seemed to have no trouble breaking awkward silences. "'Remember that time' you what?" he asked. When Jenkins didn't respond, Ogle palmed him on the back of his head. Jenkins shook violently, staring at him. "'Remember that time' you what?" Ogle demanded. "He didn't get to finish."

  "I dunno," Jenkins barked defensively. "Could've been anything. What's it matter?"

  Ogle looked flustered. "Shoulda let him finish. Now I'll be wondering at it all night!"

  Red Devil retrieved the torch and held it aloft. "There's a stream down there," he said. "We'll put the body in the water."

  "Someone will miss him," Jenkins muttered, knuckles white as he tightly gripped the smoking gun.

  "Not enough to wait for him," Annabelle said.

  "She has a point," Ogle said. "The men are aching for Tortuga. All that coin won't spend itself."

  "They wouldn't be so eager if they knew it's all going to Blackbeard," Jenkins sulked.

  "Teach is a fair man," Ogle replied. "So long as he's not crossed. I don't want to be looking over my shoulder the rest of my life. We've more than enough coin to split. We'll deliver him his share and be on our way."

  "That's the plan," said Annabelle.

  "What of Adams?" Jenkins said. "He's been a good captain. Surprised us all, to be honest."

  Red Devil scowled at Jenkins in disgust.

  Annabelle smiled sadly. "Adams made his choice when he didn't tell Teach about the treasure. He'll die with the rest."

  "And who gets to kill him?" Red Devil said, looking hopeful.

  "I do," Annabelle replied easily.

  Ogle looked skeptical. "Have you ever killed a man? With your own two hands?"

  "No," she said with a shrug. "But Adams is as good a place to start as any. Teach knows our course. Failure will mean the death of everyone on that ship." She pointed at Lively's corpse. "If a few must die to save the rest, that is far less a cruelty than the alternative." She looked at Jenkins. "Yes?"

  Jenkins nodded somberly and slipped his gun back in his sash. "Suppose so."

  She turned to Ogle. "Sway those that you can, but do not bother with those that remain fiercely loyal to Dillahunt or Adams."

  "No one's loyal to Dillahunt," Jenkins said. "Their eyes all lit up when they saw the first of that treasure. Just today Adams told us he plans on keeping Dillahunt under lock and key until such time as he can set him loose and be quit of him."

  Annabelle smirked. Just today, eh? Her presence had nudged him back to piracy. Otherwise, he probably would have carried out Dillahunt's mission and sailed back to Nassau with Hornigold as his prisoner. Silly boy.

  "Fine," she said. "But now they're loyal to Adams, who earned them their fortune. You must dispose of those who cannot be swayed. You have five days, and then we take the ship for ourselves. Spend those days wisely, gathering allies, and then strike. Teach wants no resistance."

  "Why not?" Jenkins asked. "Queen Anne could take us."

  "Use your head, boy," Ogle growled. "Crusader would go down, sure enough, but she'd also take Teach's share of the treasure with her. Why risk that?"

  "There's a smart man," Annabelle said.

  "What of the redhead and the girl?" Ogle wondered with a sadistic gleam in his eye.

  Annabelle shoved a finger in his face. "No raping," she sneered. "Or you'll answer to Blackbeard."

  Red Devil laughed. "Because he cares?"

  "The women are valuable," said Annabelle.

  "Lindsay is," Ogle agreed, "but no one will miss the black-haired girl. She tried to kill Blackbeard."

  "All the more reason to leave her intact. Teach will decide how he wants to handle her."

  Ogle giggled like a little boy. "I've been wanting to handle her since I found out she was a she."

  Annabelle advanced on him. She would not have any of the women assa
ulted while she was in charge. "Touch her and Blackbeard will hear of it."

  The big man backed off, nodding submissively. "Fine, fine."

  She looked around, realizing she had nothing left to say. Jenkins was still staring at Lively. She had half a mind to ease his troubled mind. Maybe later.

  "I'll leave you boys to clean this up. Don't speak to me again unless I speak to you first." With that, she started back for the beach, leaving them there to dispose of Peter Lively. She could only imagine what they were saying about her. She didn't care, so long as they remained in check.

  The journey back seemed quicker than the journey there. She heard a rise of boisterous laughter before she came upon the beach. When she exited the woods, the crew were dancing and singing around a huge bonfire, and the smell of roast pig and sizzling chicken teased her nostrils. Her mouth watered, but she didn't know who she could trust yet, nor did she feel like making friends with someone who might be dead in five days. All of them were clearly very drunk. Katherine Lindsay was sitting close to the fire, chatting with a group of them, who looked enthralled with whatever she was saying. Surely they were more enthralled with her casually laced shirt, which did little to conceal her cleavage. Her red hair blazed in the glow of the flames. She didn't appear to be lamenting the absence of Benjamin Hornigold. Lindsay was clearly a survivor, and Annabelle suspected she would fall to the winning side when the time came.

  And if she is truly responsible for sinking Harbinger, I must remember to thank her. Who knows what horrors Lindsay had suffered at the hands of Edward Livingston. The man had uprooted Annabelle's life in but a few minutes. Lindsay had been at his mercy for a year. If she could survive a man like Livingston, she could survive anything.

  Annabelle skirted the edges of the camp, remaining in the shadows until she reached the big tent. She ducked inside and found the room dark, save for a lone candle at the corner of the desk across the room, where Nathan sat hunched over a map, with a mostly neglected plate of chicken next to his lone hand. Dillahunt had been removed to a smaller tent, presumably under guard along with the young woman who had attempted to murder Blackbeard. Nathan glanced up at her, a distinct flutter of irritation passing over his face.