9. Black Waters
Black Waters
W endy’s blood-curdling scream ripped through the night as she stared into the sinister eyes of a pock-marked face covered in tattoos. Beyond the labyrinth of black ink, hung dreadlocks as thick as snakes.
His hand covered her mouth as a gun clicked by her ear. “One more scream like that, and it’ll be your last, understand?”
She nodded frantically, her heart racing so fast she could barely speak. Eyes wild, she spotted the silhouette of distant figures falling to the ground. This was no hallucination. Masked men infested the beaches, and no one was coming to help her.
The frightening man jerked her around to face the water. His powerful hands trapped her arms at her back in an unbreakable grip as he fastened her wrists in coarse rope. It was so surreal she hardly protested, her mind lost in a drugged haze and her instincts traveling too slowly to her brain.
“Time to go.” The wind knocked out of her lungs as she was hoisted onto his shoulder. Before she knew what was happening, they were soaring off the cliff and flying toward the jagged rocks below.
“I can’t swim!”
“Then you better hope I don’t let go.”
A shot echoed through the air just as frigid water closed around her. His shoulder lodged under her ribs, shoving the air from her lungs, then she broke the surface as he pushed her upward.
“ Help — mph! ” Tossed roughly into a small rowboat, she winced as pain shot through her bound arms and skull.
“What did I say about screaming?”
She tried to scramble back, but there was nowhere to go on the small boat and her tethered arms made it impossible to escape. He grabbed her by the silk of her nightgown and yanked her forward. Darkness blinded her as a burlap sack was shoved over her head, making it hard to breathe.
Panting frantically, she tried to sit up only to get shoved back down.
“Stay put.” The tiny craft wobbled wildly, and she feared they might capsize.
The clatter of oars sliding through the holds met the lapping water. Where was he taking her? In only a short minute, the screams of the lagoon were distant whispers, and her panicked breathing and the pounding of her heart became all she could hear.
When he grabbed her again, she kicked, the heel of her bare foot connecting with something that felt like a jaw.
“Little bitch!”
He roughly yanked her off the floor of the boat, and she screamed, kicking wildly.
Then, she was shoved forward with no way to catch her fall.
Her foot tripped over something, and she stumbled.
Once more, the frigid water pulled her under as true fear set in.
He yanked her to the surface by her bound arms.
“See what you’ve done!”
The wet sack over her head made it impossible to breathe, and he yanked it off her head.
“Please!” she sputtered. “I can’t swim!” She didn’t stand a chance of surviving the water with her arms tied.
“Are you going to behave?”
“Yes, I’ll be good.” Ice filled her veins as she shivered and begged for mercy. “Please, don’t put me in the water again.”
“Quiet!” he snapped, rowing them further out to sea. Soon, the sloshing of the water became all she could hear until he finally said, “We’re here.”
She looked up as a black wall blocked her view of the sky. They were at the ship.
Her teeth chattered. “What happens now?”
“You shut your mouth and do exactly as I say.” He yanked her forward, banding a thick arm under her waist as he carried her like a rag doll.
Their craft wobbled precariously, and the blood rushed to her head as she feared falling into the water again. He climbed up a rope ladder with one arm as he held her in the other, and soon, the water was two stories below.
She was tossed onto another hard surface, and pain radiated up her arms. “Asshole!”
Several men chuckled as they crowded around her, and her courage evaporated. They grinned down at her with missing teeth and dreadful scars. It was then she understood some fates were worse than drowning.
The weathered wood whined as the ship rocked, and the tall mast loomed overhead as ripples of black sails whipped overhead.
“What a pretty little thing she is.” The men crowded closer, leering and blocking out her view of the night sky.
“Capitan’s gonna like her.”
“What’s your name, princess?”
The pungent odor of their unwashed clothes stole her breath. Gunpowder misted the air like fog, reminding her how dangerous these men were. She worried for Peter and the Lost Boys.
“Please,” she begged, awkwardly scooting back as much as she could with her arms tied. “My family has money. They can pay you. I promise they’ll reward you if you keep me safe.”
“It ain’t your money he’s after.”
“That’s enough gawking, boys.” The terrifying man with the dreadlocks reached for her once more.
“No!” she shouted in protest. “Please!” But none of the other men came to her aid.
Terrified of where he might be taking her and what he planned to do, Wendy bit into his arm until she tasted blood.
He yanked her head back by the hair and growled, “Bitch!” His teeth were filed into points and covered in silver.
She spit at him, and he flinched and dropped her to her feet, but still kept hold of her arms.
“I’ll see that you pay for that,” he threatened, wrestling her toward a door that appeared to lead below deck.
“She sure hates you, Jukes,” one man snickered as the others watched complacently.
She dragged her feet, scraping her heels along the splintered planks. “Help!” Her flailing was of no use when he hoisted her onto his shoulder again, this time knocking the wind out of her so hard she nearly vomited.
His heavy footfalls stomped along the black planks, taking her deeper and deeper into the bowels of the ship. The sound of the sea disappeared as they entered a cramped hall that led to a dimly lit stairwell.
She completely lost her sense of direction by the end of the labyrinth. Then he threw her down once more. This time, she landed on an ornate carpet, but it still hurt like hell.
“Bastard!”
He sneered. “I’m far worse than a bastard, princess.”
He lit a candle, and she blinked at her elaborate quarters, startled by such opulence.
Fine furnishings, books, and maps filled the dim space.
In the corner, a chest brimmed with gold and strings of jewels.
The musty scent of old wood and a faint whiff of rum tinged the air, but also something else.
Something rich and threatening. Something… familiar.
“Who are you people?”
“Your worst nightmare.” He tossed a pile of rusted chains on the floor.
“Please—”
“Begging won’t save you.” He yanked her to her knees and roughly tugged the ropes.
The moment her arms were free, she sprung to her feet, but he was faster.
Her face hit the floor before she took a single step, and she whimpered when he pinned her beneath his indomitable weight.
Breath hot on her cheek, he snarled, “Next time you try something like that, I’ll break your arm. Nod if you understand.”
She closed her eyes, swallowing back another whimper, and nodded.
“Sit up and hold out your arms.”
She did as he said, terrified he’d hurt her again. Her clothes were sopping wet, and the long coat had become impossibly heavy. She looked at the chains and hesitated.
Flipping back his black coat, he flashed the butt of a pistol holstered at his hip. “Do I need my gun?”
Swallowing back a sob, she reluctantly extended her arms. The heavy, metal cuffs closed around her wrists with a click, and she dropped her weighted hands to her lap.
He moved to the other side of the room, where the chain hooked to an iron latch on the wall.
She studied her surroundings, categorizing what items might cause the greatest threat to her safety.
An antique bed with deep red drapes and a velvet canopy dominated the shadows.
The moment she set eyes on the bed, it became harder to breathe.
He turned the crank on the wall and the slack of the chains tightened. Her eyes widened in horror. What sort of person kept chains like this?
Once the limp of the chain hung neatly overhead, giving her only enough freedom to rest her arms, he carried a wooden bucket to the carpet and dropped it by her side.
“W-what’s that?”
“Your privy.”
How long did he plan to keep her chained up like this? “I think there’s been some kind of a mistake.”
“There’s no mistake.” He withdrew his pistol, checked the chamber, then returned it to the holster at his hip. “The boss will be down shortly.”
He wasn’t the boss?
He opened the door.
“Wait. Please!” But he ignored her, and the door locked behind him. “You can’t just leave me here! I’m British!”