Page 50 of Escaping Pirates
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 morehelpful 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 theKraken’s Revengefaded 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.
