Page 75 of Escaping Pirates
I had reached the opposite end of the deck. Every eye was upon me as I cradled the flares close to my chest. I hadto keep them safe. There was no other way to call Korth, but I couldn’t set the flares off now. Harlan’s life hung in the balance. I retreated until my back hit the bulwarks.
Tyrone approached, leering. He held out his hand. “What a pleasant surprise. Just hand me those flares now, and no one need get hurt.”
“No.”
He was getting too close. Gil and Peter were on the other end of the ship, doing nothing to help me. I was on my own. I might not be able to help myself, but I could help Harlan, at least in the short term. My chest heaved. I couldn’t,wouldn’t, allow Tyrone to set them off.
“Forgive me, Harlan,” I whispered, then hurled the flares into the ocean. No one would be coming to rescue us.
“No!” Tyrone screamed, lunging for the railing, but too late. The flares arced through the air, flipping end over end, before hitting the water with a splash. They bobbed for a moment, then were swallowed by the waves.
Tyrone skidded to a stop, his breath ragged and his face contorted with fury. “Stupid girl,” he spat, then backhanded me across the face so hard that I fell to the deck.
The crew watched in silence as Tyrone wrenched me to my feet and hauled me across the deck, my shoes scraping splinters from the planking. Tyrone's hand clamped hard around my upper arm, his other gesturing to the mainmast like it was a chopping block.
“Put her there,” he snarled. “We’ll make an example out of her, shall we?”
The crew hesitated then Gil stepped forward. “I’ll tie her up, Captain! I can do good knots.”
The rope was scratchy and sun-hardened. Gil looped it around my arms and the mast, her hands quick and efficient. I stood as tall as I could, refusing to give Tyrone thesatisfaction of a flinch. Gil was supposed to be, maybe not my friend, but at least on my team. Did she want me out of the picture so that she wouldn’t have to worry about my interfering or trying to claim the bounty? She’d already collected on me; there was no reason for her to keep me around.
Gil’s face fell comically. “I feel bad tying her up, Captain,” she said. “She hasn’t ever hurt anyone.”
“She insulted me and destroyed my property, and I don’t take too kindly to that. Tie it nice and tight.”
Gil obeyed, cinching the knots behind me hard enough to bruise, then nodded, satisfied. “There. That oughta hold her.”
Then she walked away, back to her post, just a cheerful cabin boy again. So much for having an ally.
I stared at the ship in the distance. How would I ever rescue Harlan now?
CHAPTER 27
The late-afternoon sun beat down on my face and neck. The crew had quickly lost interest in me and had gone back to their regular duties.
With each of the ship’s rocking motions, the ropes cut into my skin with renewed vigor. The thin layer of tar coating the ropes amplified the daytime heat and made my cuts sting and smart, and the sweat clinging to my eyelashes caused my vision to blur.
As theKraken’s Revengecame within hailing range, I felt Gil brush up behind me. She leaned in to whisper, “Hold still. Work on those ropes fast.”
I felt something cold and sharp slip between my palm and the rope, wrapped in a scrap of cloth so it wouldn’t cut me until I needed it. Glass, by the feel of it. Smooth on one edge, jagged on the other.
I blinked once, the only thanks I could manage before Gil was gone as quickly as she’d come.
The ropes bit into my wrists, coarse and tight, each twist perfectly placed to hold firm. The stupid bounty hunter really was too good at knots. The shard of glass waswarm now, nestled between my palm and the thick rope, sticky with sweat and already slick along the sharp edge. I shifted my fingers, curling them just enough to find the edge again. A thin, clean cut sliced open the pad of my middle finger.
I gritted my teeth and forced the pain down. I didn’t have time for pain. I didn’t have time for sawing through these impossibly tough ropes. Ahead, theKraken’s Revengewas drawing closer, its black sails blotting out the horizon. Somewhere on board, hopefully, was Harlan. I didn’t allow myself to think about a situation in which Harlan was already…
He had to be alive. He just had to be.
My jaw ached from how tightly I clenched it. My back was damp with perspiration, though the flecks of ocean water and the constant breeze should have cooled me. I shifted the glass again and began to saw.
The first few movements were clumsy and the angle was all wrong. If only I could see what I was doing! I couldn’t even feel exactly where the rope began and my skin ended. The shard scraped across the hemp, catching, then slipped with a stinging slice against my palm.
I stifled a cry.
The rope was thicker than I’d thought, tight with salt, tar, and time at sea. It had swollen slightly from sea spray, making it even tougher to cut. I twisted my hands, adjusted my grip, and pulled the shard taut against one of the fibers. A few strands gave way with a frayed snap.
It was working.
