Page 23 of Crossbones
The water is now to my thighs and I stumble my way to the front of the cell, gripping the iron. A swell takes us again and a crate of supplies slidesacross the ground. I jump back a second before it careens into the bars. The force is strong enough to break them from the ceiling and they fall inward at an angle, reducing the size of my cage by a concerning degree.
“Hey! Unlock the door!”
A man glances over, sees the situation and shakes his head.
“Don’t ‘ave the key, mate!” He has the gall to look concerned but his partner doesn’t even look at me. Their patch work takes them to one side of my cell and I cling to the bars near them, watching the water creep up my chest. The pitching of the ship is so bad, the three of us are thrown about like ragdolls.
The ship lists so hard, my stomach bottoms out and I’m convinced we’re going to capsize. Everything in the hold slams into the wall. I hear a cry of alarm. The man who’d spoken is pinned just outside my cell. The other crew member curses and hurries over. He shoves his shoulder against the crate but it holds fast.
“Damnit, Raul, it won’t move!” They share a concerned look.
I’m close enough to help and without a second thought, reach through the bars to the crate. They both look at me but I fix Raul with a determined look.
“You push, we’ll pull,” I command. “One, two—heave!”
We throw our strength into the crate but it doesn’t even budge. The ship pitches again, sending us all into the water. I come up with barely a foot of space above my head and Raul is fighting to keep his chin above water.
“I’ll go get help!”
The man barely makes it to the steps before the ship dips. There’s a loud crack and a beam crashes down on him, taking him under. The water turns red and he doesn’t come back up.
“Fuck!” Raul cries.
Panic overtakes him and he frantically shoves against the crate, clawing at the wood. I press up against the bars again, the cage a stark reminder of my own situation and the line between captive and crew. A line that doesn’t seem to matter much at this moment because all I see is a man just as trapped as I am. It doesn’t matter that he’s my enemy—right now he’s just a man facing death and losing.
Water rushes over Raul’s face. His arms flail above the waterline. I shove both hands through the bars and find Raul’s, gripping his hard in my own. I wait with bated breath for it to recede. When it does, he’s only left with inches.
“Well, Raul, we’re in this together it looks like.” I give him a quick smile.
“I’ve always been afraid of drowning,” Raul sputters. “I always thoughtthat odd being a sailor. I was convinced it would be the noose—”
The ship lists, the water spills over Raul’s head cutting off his words and I have to force my mouth close to the bars to breathe. I sputter, salt water bursts across my tongue and the manacles weigh heavy on my wrists. Bubbles rise from Raul’s breathing and his grip on my hand tightens. My stomach lurches as I stare helplessly at the bubbles, hoping to god they don’t stop. The water lowers and Raul’s face appears again. He coughs and rapidly blinks away the briny drops on his lashes. His eyes are bright with fear as he studies me.
“You don’t seem afraid of much,” he says breathlessly.
I spit out water and huff a laugh.
“I’m just good at hiding it, Raul,” I say. “I’m afraid now, if that means anything.”
And I am. Terrified. Not just of drowning, but because it feels like I’m reliving the past all over again. I’m just as caged, just as trapped, as I was before—with someone I can’t help.
“I don’t want to die—” Raul’s voice breaks.
I shake my head, unable to voice any reassurance because we both know the truth. His neck strains as he struggles to stay above the water line.
“Please,” he whimpers.
The plea shatters my reality.
“Please—”
It’s her hand I hold, although that’s not how it went. I was too far away—restrained in my own hell, unable to reach her.
“Please, take me instead!”
Please, please, please—
Eight years old—she’s only eight years old. Calling for me, her big brother, her forever protector, except when it matters. When it matters, I’m helpless and far away, why am I so far away?
