Chapter 30
They carried me to the medical station, each step making me want to scream. When we arrived, Patrice joined my two gallant heroes in worrying. Mr. Ashby left my field of vision, then came back with Mr. Ward, who inspected my wound.
“You’re right, the bullet isn’t too deeply embedded. We need to get it out to prevent sepsis.” He looked around him for a moment, then held a stick out to me. “Bite down on this,” he said. I took it between my teeth and prepared myself.
“Patrice, get the antiseptic and bandages. Slate, get my instruments. Ashby, get water.” Everyone took their orders seriously. Patrice returned first, then Graham. Mr. Ward touched my shoulder and had me look directly into his eyes. “This is going to hurt,” he said. I couldn’t do anything but nod.
The antiseptic burned, but that was not the worst part.
For when Mr. Ward used his instrument to dig out the bullet, white light flashed in my vision and a scream escaped my throat as I bit down on the stick.
This was what I imagined being eaten alive by a wolf would feel like.
I felt hands grabbing both of mine and I squeezed them as tightly as possible.
“Almost done,” Mr. Ward encouraged. “Hang in there a little longer.” A few more seconds of searing pain, and then he lifted out a metal ball about the size of a marble. Such a small, hateful thing. I relaxed every part of my body, the stick falling from my mouth, and breathed heavily.
“Thank you,” I said faintly.
“Patrice, finish it up.” Mr. Ward left without ceremony.
I lay there gulping mouthfuls of air as if I’d been drowning.
Patrice, who had been holding my hand, let go and began wrapping me in bandages.
She didn’t speak, but I could tell from the set of her mouth that she wanted to cry.
Her hands were deft, just like they were when she set my hair or helped me dress.
Capable, dependable Patrice. I was so grateful to her.
As she worked, I felt someone else take my hand.
I turned to see Mr. Ashby kneeling beside me. He tried to smile, but it looked as if he were in pain. If a look could heal, his compassion would surely do the trick.
“How are ye feeling?” I heard Graham’s voice from my other side. My head turned to see him. I nodded weakly. His hand squeezed mine.
“Keep an eye on her,” Patrice said to the men. They both nodded. “Mr. Ward and Lottie can use all the hands they can get. Forgive me?” I nodded, and she left to be the Patrice I knew.
My eyes took in the men on either side of me. Would they both keep vigil at my side? It seemed unnecessary. I almost said so, but I squeaked out something like “Ow.”
They both leaned over, as if they could help. Such an overreaction made me want to laugh. I hissed at the slight movement of my belly as the laugh began. It stopped immediately. “Stop fretting over me,” I finally said.
Graham placed a hand to my hair, shushing me. “Dinnae speak, Elsie.” His familiar deep concern made me pause, and I found myself wanting to smile at him.
“I won’t go anywhere.” Mr. Ashby pulled my hand to his cheek. I looked at Mr. Ashby then, his tender touch sending warmth straight to my heart.
That infinitesimal moment confused me more than any moment ever had, but before I could understand why, Eliza’s voice called out nearby.
“Graham! Captain needs us!” I saw her running to us. “Is she all right?” she asked Graham, gesturing to me.
“Aye. She’ll recover.” He looked at me. “Will ye be all right with Arthur?”
I nodded. “Of course.” The words were ridiculous, considering the pain that made me want to vomit. It seemed unlikely I would actually be all right.
Graham glanced at Mr. Ashby and nodded once before planting a kiss on my forehead and leaving with Eliza.
The intimate gesture startled me, but he left too suddenly for me to say anything about it.
Why did I feel like he was my Graham again?
When I looked at Mr. Ashby, I suspected he was thinking the same thing.
His eyes were on Graham’s retreating figure.
When he met my gaze, he didn’t speak. There seemed to be a deep exhaustion within him as I noted the shadows under his eyes. The blue of his irises was stormy, like his mind was chaos. “Are you uncomfortable?” he asked. “Can I help you readjust?”
I shook my head. “No. How are you?”
An unexpected smile quirked his mouth. “You’re worried about me in your condition?”
“Can’t I be worried?”
He looked down. “Don’t waste your strength on me. Just think about recovering.”
“I almost died. I’ll waste my strength on whatever I want.” After grimacing from a wave of pain, my lips stretched into a miniscule smile at my clever repartee.
“Only you would make light of getting shot.”
“That’s not true at all. I think you would think nothing of a bullet.” I winced. “You’d probably…pull it out yourself on the… battlefield.” I seemed to be losing my breath more quickly than usual. Speaking didn’t used to be so difficult.
He chuckled lightly before saying, “Stop talking and rest.”
But resting would have to be put off. The sounds of clashing swords were coming nearer. Mr. Ashby stood, fully alert. I wondered what he was thinking as he turned toward the wounded who were lying near us. When he turned back to me, I knew. “I think they’re headed straight for us.”
“I thought you might say that,” I groaned.
With nowhere for the other wounded or me to go, Mr. Ashby could only stand protectively between us and the battle that unfolded like a performance before us.
Eliza and Graham were there, with two other Maelstrom crew members holding off three pirates while Captain Whitmore and Captain Corsaire were locked in a fierce battle. The two captains were focused only on each other, their swords clanging impressively.
As I watched, Captain Whitmore caught Captain Corsaire on the wrist and he dropped his sword.
Captain Whitmore cackled. “What’s wrong, Jacque? Haven’t you learned how to fight an old man? Pick up your sword. I’ll give you another chance.”
It was a poor choice on his part, for Captain Corsaire didn’t play by the rules.
He didn’t just pick up his sword; he slashed at Captain Whitmore without hesitation.
His sword appeared to have just sliced open his shirt, leaving a thin trail of blood, but the surprise of it had the captain stumbling back.
It interrupted the other fights, and Eliza steadied her captain as he recovered his footing.
Soon, he rushed back at Captain Corsaire and their fight continued.
The Maelstrom crew were winning. Only two pirates and their captain remained standing. Then in the second it took for me to blink, Captain Corsaire was impaled by Captain Whitmore. As he fell to the ground, however, his last action was to stick his sword into Captain Whitmore’s leg.
A cry flew from Captain Whitmore’s lips and he, too, landed on the ground.
Eliza and Graham dispatched the final two pirates and rushed to their captain’s side. The other two crew members seemed to run for help.
Even from my vantage point, I could tell the injury was not insignificant.
Captain Whitmore was losing too much blood.
Eliza and Graham tried to tie his leg above the injury, but they ended up being covered in blood instead.
Mr. Ward came back with the other crew members, but he couldn’t seem to improve the situation, either. He shook his head at Eliza.
Captain Whitmore was fading. Everyone seemed unsure what to do next.
Disbelief clutched my gut like the wound inside me.
It was a helpless thing, to watch someone die in front of you.
There should be a way to help, a way to prevent it.
Memories of Tallow came to the surface, and I wished this situation would be different.
But Captain Whitmore was slipping away from this world no matter what they did.
He grasped Eliza’s hand and tried to mouth something. His eyes were wide. Did he know he was dying? Eliza cried and pulled his hand to her chin. “Please, hold on,” she said. “Please, Captain, just hold on until we can find a way to save you.”
“E-li-za. Take…care…M—maelstr…” He let out a large sigh and his head hit the ground. His hand went slack and Eliza cried loudly, repeating “No!” over and over again.
Graham tried to put his arms around her, but she was hysterical and wouldn’t allow it.
He looked as if his whole world were crumbling as he watched Eliza.
I wanted to console him, wanted to support him, though I suspected he had no thought of me in that moment.
His eyes were for the woman who’d been hurt the most by this loss.
The captain had given her a home on the Maelstrom.
Tears stung my eyes as the captain’s death began to sink in.
The kind, strange, clever captain who protected and guided the Maelstrom was gone.
This man, along with Mrs. Bowers, had brought unlikely people together and made them a family, a team who believed in something bigger than themselves.
It took a special kind of person to do that.
I wondered what would happen to the mission without him.
The Maelstrom had burned. Did that mean the captain’s legacy was also destroyed?
Looking around us, everything seemed dismal. Burned buildings and crops, death and near-death, screaming in the distance. It seemed the mission had already fallen.
Everyone but Eliza stood, bowing their heads in grief and taking off their hats with respect for their captain.
I lay there, watching the crew take care of Captain Whitmore’s body about ten yards from me. They built a makeshift gurney for their captain, and when they placed him on it, Eliza knelt beside him and couldn’t seem to let go of his hand.
I noticed then that Captain Corsaire’s body was lying on the ground unmoving and untouched. What would happen to the pirates now, without their captain? Surely they would call a ceasefire. I could still hear battling continue around us. It could end now, couldn’t it?
The crew made a second gurney and put the pirate captain on it. It seemed they had formed a plan.
“Nate, care for the captain’s body. We have to stop this battle,” Graham said to Mr. Ward before going to join the crew.
The look on Eliza’s face was fierce and determined as she stood and took hold of one corner of the pirate captain’s gurney, as if all grief had been replaced by purpose.
Graham stood beside her, saying something that made her glance his way, and they all left together.
After a while, I noticed the sounds of fighting had stopped, replaced by a strange, eerie silence. It grew dark. We waited, and I quietly worried that a new fight would break out and we would all end up dying after surviving so much.
Patrice had joined us, saying there were no more wounded nearby and since it was getting dark, they couldn’t find anyone else. At some point, I fell asleep and had no idea what happened around me until morning.