The Pirate (Captains & Cannons Book 1)
Page 5
Esther Williams did not answer. Neither did her mysterious guest.
“Ms. Williams?” Ethan knocked on the door this time, not hard, but it was enough that he accidentally caused it to swing open.
“Ms. Williams?” This last time he said it, however, his voice cracked as his eyes took in the scene.
Esther Williams lay sprawled across her entryway floor, dressed in her nightgown. Though she had a soft smile across her face and her eyes were closed, she didn’t move a muscle. Not even those to make her breathe.
Esther Williams, the funny woman who lived by Ethan, had always been quite spry. Now she was anything but.
Chapter Six
The Police
“Look, there was a guy,” Ethan said to the policeman. “I saw him. I spoke to him. He definitely went in her apartment before she died.”
Officer Harper, a squat man of thirty-something years old with a high and tight haircut, broad shoulders, and a potbelly that would make any Vietnamese pig jealous, stood outside Esther’s empty apartment. The paramedics had rushed her out the moment they’d arrived, but Ethan had overheard them saying she had no pulse and would likely be DOA once they got to the hospital. Officer Harper seemed to indicate the same. “Look, I need more than a guy was here. What was his name?”
“I don’t know. I told you that.”
“You still don’t remember what he looked like?”
Anne started barking again before Ethan could answer. She’d been quiet for nearly thirty seconds now, giving Ethan a false sense of hope she’d given up on trying to be included on whatever was happening in the hall.
“Any chance you can get your dog to quiet?” Officer Harper asked. “Your neighbors would probably like to go back to sleep.”
“I’m sure she’ll settle down when I get in there.”
The officer nodded with a resigned look on his face. “Fine. Let’s try to get through this quickly, then. What did this man look like?”
Ethan rubbed his temples. He knew he had gotten a good look at whoever this guy was. After all, how could he not? Ethan had talked to him for a bit. He could remember everything about their conversation. But why the hell couldn’t he remember what the man looked like? All Ethan could come up with to answer that was the unsettling feeling that something unnatural was keeping him from doing so. Or maybe magical? Like a spell of forget?
Ethan shook his head. That was ridiculous. Spell of forget. Yeah, right. Even the name sounded stupid.
“Well?” the officer pushed.
Ethan shrugged, wishing he didn’t have to, and then wishing twice more that a mini-stroke wasn’t the cause of it all. “Like I said, I can’t remember. He was just a guy. I guess. Nothing weird about him.”
“Hair color?”
Ethan shrugged again. “Brown, maybe? He was dressed nice. I remember that part.”
“Height?”
“I don’t know. Bigger than me.”
“Fat guy? Skinny? Muscles? White? Black? Tan? Green? Had a beard? Clean shaven? Whistled Dixie as he walked around? You’ve got to give me something else.”
Ethan shrugged a third and final time. “Look, it’s late. I’m exhausted. I don’t know what else I can say.”
Officer Harper flipped his notebook closed and dropped his brow. “Have you been drinking tonight?”
“No.”
“Done any drugs?”
“No,” Ethan said with an exasperated sigh.
Anne’s barks became more intense; so much so, they not only caused Ethan to worry something was wrong or that someone was in there with her, but they pulled Melissa out of her apartment. She stood a foot outside her doorway in soccer shorts and an oversized black T-shirt while wearing a scowl on her face. The moment her eyes spied the cop, her look of irritation vanished.
“What’s going on, Evan?” she asked wearily. “Was there a break-in or something?”
“Uh, hi, Melissa,” Ethan said, feeling dumb that she never got his name right. “No. Esther died. Anne’s flipping out because the cops are here.”
“That’s horrible,” she said. “Are you two at least going to be done soon?”
Officer Harper shook his head. “Not likely. This is being treated as a potential crime scene since there’s a possible suspect we need to track down. In fact—”
Melissa’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Ethan said you came home about the same time he did?”
“I don’t know. Did I?”
Ethan nodded. “You did.”
“I’ll need you to come out here and answer some questions, too, then,” Officer Harper said before giving her an extra up-down with his eyes.
Melissa shook her head and rolled her eyes as she muttered some curses. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Can we quiet the dog first, at least?”
Harper glanced at Ethan. “Can we?”
“Give her some treats. She’ll quiet for a bit.”
Melissa, without a hint of warning, marched across the hall and into Ethan’s apartment, giving him a minor heart attack. Not because Anne would attack her. Her only danger was that she’d lick a burglar to death. And he wasn’t freaking out because the place was a total disaster, either. Far from it, actually. No, what his reaction was all about was the fact that since he had hopes of one day inviting her over, he desperately wanted to have more stuff inside, so it looked as if he was doing well for himself. Hell, that he was doing two steps below okay would be fine, too, as opposed to the “extreme minimalistic” motif he had going now.
“Where are they?” she called out, derailing his runaway thought train.
“Kitchen pantry,” Ethan called back, trying to decide whether or not he should go in there with her. If he had more charisma, sure, or if his life had been spent climbing the Smooth Romantic talent tree, absolutely. But the only thing he’d invested on in life thus far outside of the basics was tackling games, which only went so far when trying to get to know the opposite sex while a cop stood outside your door, waiting to grill you both on a corpse that had been wheeled off less than ten minutes ago.
“Where? I don’t—” Her voice cut off. The barking intensified tenfold for a few seconds and then silenced. “Found them! She’s happy.”
Ethan sighed with relief, and Officer Harper smiled as well.
For the next thirty minutes, the cop thoroughly questioned Ethan and Melissa. In reality, he questioned Melissa more, giving her easily five times as much attention as he did Ethan. Near the top of the hour, a radio call came in, and he had to excuse himself before promising to be in touch the next day to follow up.
Ethan had no expectations that that follow up would include him in any way.
“Wow, I can’t believe she’s dead,” Melissa said, leaning against the wall with her shoulder, her eyes fixated on Esther’s door.
“Me either. She was always so nice. Tell me stories about ‘back in the day’ and how to—” He caught himself before he flopped the ‘and ask you out’ blunder.
“How to what?”
“Fold sheets,” he said.
“Sounds like her,” she said. “I wish I would’ve seen her earlier. Maybe I could’ve done something, you know?”
Ethan nodded, feeling the same. “Yeah. Something.”
“Well, g’nite, Evan,” Melissa said with a yawn as she headed for her door. “I’m going to bed.”
“It’s Ethan,” he replied, but it was so soft she didn’t hear.
He watched her go back into her apartment and shut the door before he turned around and went into his. Anne nuzzled his leg and slobbered on his hand. He scratched her behind the ears before shuffling into his bedroom and collapsing on his mattress.
What a night, he thought.
He stared at the clock for about a minute before his thoughts settled, and exhaustion overtook him. His eyes closed, and then after what felt like five minutes at the most, he woke to his alarm blaring in his ears and sunlight assaulting his eyes.
Ethan sat up, waiting for Anne to answer. Well, not answer, answer, but respond to his usual morning ramblings by barking at him, slobbering on him, or a combination of both until he got his butt up and let her outside.
“Anne?” he called out, shuffling into the living room. “Where are you, girl?”
Ethan cocked his head. She should’ve been barreling into him by now. He threw a glance at the front door as well as the sliding glass one that led out the back. Both were closed.
He was about to call out again when a sour smell hit his nose. He grimaced and forced himself to sniff the air to find the source of the offending odor. It was coming from the kitchen. Fearing Anne had gotten into the garbage again while he was sleeping and ended up yakking on the floor, Ethan hurried over, all the while reminding himself that owning such a cool yellow lab meant accidents would happen from time to time. Like when she had to be house trained for a year. Or like when she was five months old, and he left his sandals on the floor, and a whopping six seconds later, she’d turned them into an exciting trip to the vet to remove part of their strap she’d swallowed.
Ethan rounded the corner to his small kitchen, and his heart stopped. Lying on the cream vinyl floor, about a foot from his four-burner stove, was Anne. Her eyes were rolled back in her head, and her tongue flopped out of her mouth. Vomit coated most of the area, which was concerning enough, but her shaking and shallow, rapid breathing threw Ethan into a panic. This shot into full-blown terror when he saw an empty wrapper to one of his bars of imported dark chocolate lying on the kitchen counter.
“Anne!” Ethan cried out, bolting to his dog’s side. “Anne, oh my god, wake up!”
Anne didn’t move. In a flash, he scooped her up and stumbled out the door after grabbing his keys. Why the hell didn’t they have 911 for dogs?
Once in the hall, Ethan readjusted his grip on his dog and lost his balance in the process. Though he didn’t fall, he ended up slamming a shoulder into Melissa’s door.
“Damn it!” he said, tears now welling in his eyes. He dared a glance at Anne. She looked even worse than before, if that were possible. Her breathing had all but stopped, and her gums had gone gray. “Hold on, girl! You’re going to be fine.”
Melissa opened her door wearing the same outfit he’d seen her in earlier, but this time her hair had been conquered by the almighty bed. “Evan? Oh my god, what happened to your dog?”
“Did you give her chocolate?” Ethan said, practically biting her head off.
“You said to give her a treat!”
“You can’t give dogs chocolate! It’s poisonous to them!” he shouted as he headed for the car again.
Melissa’s hands went over her mouth, and her eyes went wide with fear. “I…I didn’t know.”
“Who the hell doesn’t know that?” Ethan shook his head. “Never mind. Just grab my wallet from inside, okay? I’m going to need it.”
Melissa nodded and darted into his apartment. Ethan sucked in a deep breath and shouldered his way out the door that led to the parking lot. Cold morning air kissed his skin, and colder pavement attacked his bare feet.
With only one hand semi-free, he managed to pop open the rear door to his Omni and put Anne in the backseat. He darted into the driver’s seat and cranked the ignition.
All he was rewarded with was a click, click, click, click as the car tried in vain to turn over.
“No,” Ethan whispered. He checked the dash. The voltage indicator for the battery was lower than his current outlook on life. “No! No! No!”
Ethan collapsed against the wheel, not knowing what to do. His mind clouded, and the world took on a surreal nature.
“Little too much booze last night, kiddo?” said a familiar voice. “You look like you need a few cups of joe.”
Ethan jumped. There in the passenger seat, still dressed in his gray suit with the matching wide-brimmed fedora, was the guy he’d seen before. “What the hell are you doing here?”
The man motioned to the back seat with his cigar. “Came for her,” he said. “Normally, animals are outside the scope of all this, but hey, you’re in luck. Exceptions are always made for family.”
“Look, I don’t have time for this,” Ethan said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Get out of my car.”
The man shrugged. “Can’t. Not without the dog.”
“You touch my dog, and I’ll kill you,” Ethan said, surprised that the words came out of his mouth as strong as they did, especially since the last fight he’d been in was in third grade and in reality, it was more of him being used as a pinata than an equal, toe-to-toe match between dueling champions.
The man took a long puff from his cigar. “Alright, kid. You ready to do business this time or what? I’ve got to know, because if you’re wasting my time like you did with Esther and you’re just going to chicken out again, just do me the courtesy and tell me upfront. You want to play for your dog’s soul or not?”
Ethan’s face scrunched. “Play? You mean like you’re Death or something?”
“Bingo, kid,” the man said with a wink and a half grin. “Probably would’ve realized that sooner if you’d read the manual like you were supposed to.”
“What manual?”
“The one that came with the game,” Death replied. “I know she told you to read it. Part of the rules.”
Ethan shook his head. “This is insane. You’re not Death. You’re flipping crazy, is what you are.”
Death shrugged. “Think what you want, kid. But keep two things in mind: One, I’m the reason you couldn’t give details to the cop, and two, this is your last chance to accept my challenge. If you don’t, I take your dog by default, and then we can try this again some other time.”
Something about the man’s voice gave Ethan pause. There was an authority to it. Not one born from the appointment of man or government, but one born from the universe itself. Ethan tensed, but when he glanced back at his dying four-legged friend, he dared to believe. “Prove it.”
“Here’s your one and only demonstration,” Death said. He stuck the cigar in his mouth, cracked his knuckles, and pointed at a pigeon on a nearby bench. “See that bird? He’ll be dead in three. Two. One.”
Right on cue, a hawk flashed through the air, snatching the bird in one swoop. Time seemed to crawl as Ethan watched the raptor sink all of its talons deep inside the pigeon’s chest, no doubt killing it instantly, before flying off.
“Holy snort!” Ethan said, his hands gripping his steering wheel.
Death adjusted his fedora. “What can I say? I’ve had a little practice. So, what’s it going to be? Play for your pooch or what?”
Ethan whipped his head around. “You’re saying if we play a game and I win, I get my dog back?”
Death nodded.
“And if I lose?”
“Your pooch is mine. Pretty simple, no?”
Ethan paused, but only for a second. “And it’s a fair game though, right? There’s no catch or something, is there?”
“Of course, it’s a fair game, kid. It’s in the contract,” Death said, producing the clipboard he’d had before. He stuck a finger near the top as he offered it to Ethan. “Says it right there. But if I were you, I’d read fast. Time’s a ticking.”
Ethan’s eyes scanned the page. Sure enough, right at the top, the contest was clearly described as being a fair one. He tried to read the rest, but after a few seconds, he realized he’d never be able to without an hour to spare and hefty legal advice. “Fine. Let’s do it.”
Death produced a pen, and once Ethan had signed the bottom, he smiled broadly as he folded the contract in thirds and stuffed it inside his jacket. “That a boy. Word of advice, though.”
“What’s that?” asked Ethan.
“If I were you, I’d get to my computer in the next sixty seconds, because good old Anne here
isn’t going to last much more beyond that.”
Ethan swore a dozen times over and dashed out of his car. He bounded up the three steps outside the apartment building and barreled through the door to the hall. He practically broke the sound barrier racing to his apartment and nearly took Melissa out as she popped out of his abode with his wallet in hand.
“Evan?” she called out as he raced by. “Evan, I’ve got your wallet!”
Now in his living room, Ethan jumped into his worn-out, slightly torn black leather chair at his desk. The computer was still sleeping, so the room was quiet, other than the music that drifted in from his neighbor’s bedroom, and Melissa’s repeated calls to him asking what was going on.
He whipped the 5.25” disk out of the box before sliding it into the drive it had come with and setting it next to his computer. What was supposed to happen next, he had no idea. The woman back at the fair hadn’t told him, and for a brief second, he wondered if he should dig through the manual.
The monitor suddenly flickered to life, and then his wallpaper onscreen distorted and flashed. In a span of two seconds, the resolution he had previously set his computer to changed a dozen times, and all the while the pixels rotated through a variety of color palettes.
The screen faded, and music, if it could be called that, began to play through his PC’s speaker. Not the 5.1 surround sound system he had going, but the actual speaker that was wired into the motherboard. The speaker that, as far as he knew, only gave the occasional beep during boot up or when, God forbid, something was wrong with the motherboard. It had never played a melody before, even a simple one like what was coming out now.
Two words formed across the screen, sapphire-blue and outlined in white flames. Two words that read:
Journey Onward?
Chapter Seven
Welcome to Bartigua
Ethan remembered pressing the ‘y’ key on his keyboard. He was sure of that much. What had transpired between that point and where he was now was a bit of a blur. All he could remember were the colorful swirls of light and feeling as if he had been stuck in a gigantic laundromat dryer that had been set to high. When everything settled, he found himself standing on the deck of an early 18th-century sloop that, to his utter dismay, happened to be in the middle of a brutal fight.