Page 28 of Escaping Pirates (Legends of Neverland #4)

W e must have fallen asleep before I went back to my cell, because the next thing I knew, the brig door banged open, and Captain Harsh stormed in. There was no time to squeeze back into my own cell. We’d been caught.

Both Harlan and I sprang to our feet. We were going to be whipped, I knew it.

With a rattle of keys, Harsh rammed a key into the lock and wrenched the cell door open.

Harlan crowded me backward into a corner, arms protectively thrown out as feeble shields.

When Harsh stormed in and threw a wild swing, Harlan flung himself at Harsh.

Harlan dodged Harsh’s wild punches and returned several of his own, battering the captain with each blow of his fists. “Go, Elena!” Harlan shouted. “Go!”

I ran. Holding my skirts up to my knees, I squeezed past the two men and dashed along the slippery corridor. Where could I go? No matter where I chose, Harsh and his men would be able to easily overpower both me and Harlan.

I sprinted up the short flight of steps onto the main deck, where pirates lounged about, mending sails or listening as One-Eyed Bart blew a reedy tune on his pipes.

A few glanced curiously as I burst onto the deck and the open door behind me allowed the sounds of Harsh’s and Harlan’s scuffle to amplify.

Thad leapt to his feet. “Captain!” he shouted and ran toward the open brig door.

I scanned my surroundings in a panic. There was no telling what my punishment was going to be, and I didn’t want to find out. If there was ever a time to escape, this was it. Could I risk jumping into the ocean below?

“Nab her, boys!” Harsh’s gravelly voice snarled from below deck. “Don’t let either of them get away.”

Get away? Where could I go? There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. Nowhere, except…

The endless horizon stretched out without a single coastline to break the flat line of ocean meeting the sky. Way in the distance, a ship’s sail was the faintest speck of white against the landscape.

It was my only option.

I backed up against the railing and stared around in a panic. I’d never be able to lift a barrel on my own to throw overboard to help me stay afloat. Vibrations shuddered the deck beneath my boots as Harlan came charging into view from down below, Captain Harsh hot on his heels.

Without a single word or slowing down, Harlan charged into me at full speed, wrapped his arms around my waist as his shoulder rammed into my stomach, and dove overboard with me.

If I’d had any breath in my body, I would have screamed.

But Harlan’s crushing tackle followed by our fall stole all the air from my lungs.

The cold of the ocean shocked my body into remembering the need to draw breath, but the velocity of our fall plunged us deep underwater.

Harlan, still latched onto me, began propelling us away from the ship, legs kicking furiously.

My head thrashed from side to side and my eyes rolled; I needed oxygen. The pain from the bruises forming on my ribs weren’t even noticeable in comparison to my desperate need for air. I couldn’t move my arms or legs to assist Harlan in swimming us further from the ship before we rose for air.

When we finally broke the surface, we were a stone’s throw away from the ship. I gasped for air, choking and coughing as I struggled to inhale properly.

Shouts rang through the air as pirates leaned over the side of the ship, still clearly visible. “Bring the ship round! We’ll get ’em!”

“Stand down!” Captain Harsh’s guttural tones barked. His plumed hat made him easily distinguishable from the other crewmembers. Sugar and Blossom clutched at each of his arms, and their shrill voices carried across the water.

“Don’t hurt him, Daddy! Don’t hurt him!”

The pirates’ rumbling quieted as the captain surveyed us treading water and breathing heavily. Each lapping wave pushed and pulled at my body, the immense weight of the ocean pressing on my chest.

After a quick look at each of his daughters, Harsh shouted at us, “I’ve told you before, I’m not a killer. But the ocean isn’t as kind.” He turned and laughed cruelly. “Bring a barrel of chum.”

“Swim,” Harlan ordered me, prodding me in the back to urge me away from the ship. “Now and as fast as you can.”

The sickening splashes of the bloodied, chopped fish remains still filled my ears as we swam away from the ship, hoping against hope that we would be able to distance ourselves from the sharks that would flock to the feast.

“Daddy, no! Bring him back! ”

A fishing net splashed down over Harlan, who gasped for air as the weight of the ropes forced him under the water.

I screamed in panic, trying in vain to tug on the ropes that were dragging Harlan away from the life-giving air. Gears clicked and the net was slowly lifted out of the water, Harlan trapped inside.

“Go!” he shouted at me. “Go, now!”

I tried to swim away from the boat, but my skirts and shoes were heavy and water-logged. I was fortunate to keep my head above water while treading. The reek from the chum nearby didn’t help me focus at all.

I threw a backward look at Harlan, who was dangling in the net at eye level with the Captain.

“I have a proposition for you, boy,” Harsh said, speaking loudly enough that even I was able to hear. “If you promise to give no more trouble, I’ll throw the girl a barrel to hold on to.”

My head ducked under the water as Harlan looked at me. I bobbed back to the surface just in time to see him nod. “Give her a barrel.”

“You heard him, boys! Let’s give the girl something to hold on to!”

With a grunt, three pirates hefted a massive barrel overboard, right into the middle of the chum.

How long until the sharks came? My clothing would undoubtedly take on the scent of blood, but I had no other choice.

I unclasped my shoes and let them sink, then did the same to my outer skirt, much heavier than my thin slip.

Without the additional weight, I managed to swim to the barrel and push it away from the chum that was turning the water red.

At first glance, I thought the barrel would be more helpful than a smaller one since it was larger and more buoyant.

I was wrong.

It was so large that I couldn’t get a good grip around it, and the only way I managed to stay afloat was by clinging to the thin hoops around it. The metal dug into my fingers, but I clung to it, hugging the barrel as best I could with such meager handholds, and kicked ferociously.

The crew behind me roared with laughter, and I heard Sugar’s and Blossom’s shrill voices added into the mix. How long did I have before the sharks came? They were nocturnal, right? Or were they awake during the day? Did sharks even sleep? How could they if they had to constantly swim?

A single dorsal fin rising to jut out of the water was all it took for me to redouble my vigorous kicking. It circled the expanding ring of chum. More would come. If I was caught in the middle of a feeding frenzy, there was no way I would ever survive.

I continued to paddle away, desperate to put as much distance as possible between me and the sharks attracted by the scent of blood.

My arms and legs grew sore from the nonstop paddling and holding on to the barrel keeping me afloat.

Was this how Enid and the rest of my crew had felt when they’d been thrown overboard?

What had become of them? What was happening to Harlan?

I wasn’t sure if being in the water during the day was a blessing or a curse.

It was easier to see what was close to me in the water, but it also meant that I was much more visible from below.

Every time something brushed against me in the water, I jerked away in panic.

Cold currents occasionally rushed through the warm water, chilling me almost as much as the knowledge of my impending death did.

Time lost all meaning. The barrel helped keep me afloat, but once the Kraken’s Revenge faded from sight, I had no way of telling which way was north or south or how far I’d gone.

The sun always seemed to be directly overhead, and there was nothing but a vast expanse of ocean as far as I could see in any direction.

Where had the other ship gone? Or had I imagined it in my panic?

Was I making my way toward shore, or was I drifting further out to sea?

I had long since stopped paddling and now simply clung to the barrel as best I could, hoping the tide would push me toward shore.

My skin grew hot and turned bright red as the day wore on.

The sun’s brutal rays beat on my head and neck, then reflected off the water so that the day seemed even brighter, and the salt water lapped over me so that my eyes smarted and burned.

I closed my eyes to shield them, and simply got my mouth full of salt water when I couldn’t predict the next wave.

I grew ill from having swallowed so much seawater but lacked the energy to even vomit it back out.

The letter Harlan had written me had long since disintegrated.

Even though I had it memorized, the loss was still devastating.

As my time at sea lengthened and my hope of being rescued disappeared, my wishes changed.

If I wasn’t going to be saved, perhaps some monstrous beast would consume me so quickly that I wouldn’t feel the pain of death.

Maybe another kraken would present itself and bite me in half.

That seemed a far better solution to being ripped apart by sharks or drowned by sirens.

The glowing sun sank in the sky. If I knew where I was, I’d be able to use my fleeting bearings of which ways were east and west to propel myself to land, but as I had no idea where I was in the ocean, even that knowledge was wasted on me.

My eyes stung so badly from the salt water and sun that they burned even while they were closed.

I’d never been more exhausted in my entire life.

Not even on the day that Blossom and Sugar had made me scrub every square inch of the deck while they sipped drinks in the shade.

My grip on the crate slackened as I wavered between sleep and consciousness.

There was no way I’d ever be able to make it through the night.

The ocean would claim me as yet another of its nameless victims.

“Man overboard!” The faint cry pulled me from my stupor. How much time had passed? The crimson sun’s dying rays were still casting their velvety glow in streaks across the sky. The shout of “Man overboard!” came again, and I rolled my head around to follow the sound.

A ship, a blessed ship, was bearing down on me, coming closer by the second.

I tried to shout, but the noise came out as a strangled gag, so I attempted to wave instead, still keeping a tight hold on my life-saving barrel.

I didn’t care what country the ship had come from or where it was going.

My eyes were so sore and bloodshot that I couldn’t even make out what color of flag flew from the mast, nor did I care.

I was saved.

A rope splashed down. I tried to grab it, but my fingers were so stiff that I couldn’t grip it.

“It’s a girl!” I looked up to see a thin cabin boy leaning over the bulwark, staring at me floating in the water below. “Send me down! I’ll pull her up!”

“Your toothpick arms would snap if you so much as rolled a barrel,” someone else laughed. “I’ll do it.”

There was a colossal splash as someone dove into the water beside me.

A bearded head popped up next to mine, and strong sailor arms latched around me.

For the first time that day, I relaxed and allowed myself to be heaved out of the water.

The moment we were aboard, I collapsed onto the deck, too tired to do more than keep my eyes half open.

The skinny cabin boy, whose blond hair jutted out from beneath his cap, squatted next to me so that his dirt-streaked face was all I could see.

He couldn’t have been more than fourteen years old; he didn’t even have facial hair yet.

“Should we tell the captain?” he asked, peering into my face with bright-eyed interest.

“He’s already asleep for the night. Let’s stick her in the infirmary. Gil, you be in charge of her.”

“Why me?” the boy squawked. His voice cracked at the end of his question, earning him a few snickers from the men all clustered in a circle around us.

“Because you’re the youngest, least intelligent, and no one considers you a threat when it comes to women. Not even women consider you a threat.”

“Awwww,” the boy groaned, but then good-naturedly stooped down to pull one of my arms over his shoulder.

If I hadn’t been so sick to my stomach and exhausted, I would have laughed.

The other sailors had every right to doubt this boy’s strength.

Emaciated as I was, I was still probably heavier than this tiny young man.

“Come on,” he grunted, laboring to support my weight as he led me to the infirmary. I could tell he was struggling, but none of the larger men around us made any attempt to help. It was as though they enjoyed watching the cabin boy try to prove himself a man.

Soon, I was able to lie down in a hammock that cradled my body, supporting me in a way that had been grossly lacking while I had been confined to the brig in the Kraken’s Revenge .

“I’ll bring you something to eat soon,” the boy said.

“Thank you,” I managed to groan. The room didn’t smell as sour as the brig, but I wouldn’t have cared if it smelled worse. Within two minutes, I’d fallen fast asleep, but my slumber was disturbed by dreams in which Harlan was drowned at sea.