Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Frankie
W hen I was seventeen, I went to the county fair in a little town in West Virginia.
I arrived in early afternoon, and by the time the barkers started hollering for everyone to spend their tickets and get the hell out, I’d eaten my weight in turkey legs and funnel cake.
I had three tickets left. That was exactly what it cost to ride the Tilt-A-Whirl, so I grabbed an extra-large cherry slush and chugged it while I waited in line.
All of that to say this: Despite the involuntary expulsion that occurred on that day, I have never felt as sick as I feel at this moment.
I have never felt the urge to exist without insides, but with each dip and sway of the ship, I pray for this lifetime to end.
A small piece of my soul vacates my being, and I’m certain I’m dying.
Cold water crashes against my neck and spills down my top, soaking my chest and back.
My hands release the railing, instinctively flying upward as the icy shock drives down my spine.
The ship rocks again, and I’m tossed sideways.
Before I crash against the deck and break open my skull, I land against something much more forgiving.
Still so hard, though. His thin garments do nothing to hide that lean muscle.
“I’ve got you,” Maverick says as he steadies me.
“Thanks.”
I blink to clear my head as I’m held upright. When the wave of dizziness recedes, I grip the railing and glance behind me. Eve wiggles a small metal bucket, which is now empty.
“Sorry, honey, but being overheated won’t help with the motion sickness. Just trying to help.”
I give her a nod, too sick to form words.
Maverick releases my arm, keeping one hand on my opposite hip. I can’t tell if he’s trying to get handsy or be helpful, and I’m not sure it matters. I’m happy either way. A smile bubbles out of me, and I can’t stop it.
Maverick looks down at me, giving me a lazy half-smirk.
Oh god. Oh god, no.
Something else bubbles out of me. And I can’t stop it, either.
With one hand on the railing, I turn my head and projectile vomit into the sea. I hope the fish enjoy the hot ham sandwich we ate on the tender ride to this pirate ship.
Now that I’ve vomited, the cold sweat finally passes. I turn back to Eve, who seems to be one of the few people completely unaffected by the ship’s motion.
“What’s your secret?” I croak.
She shrugs and tucks the bucket under her arm. “Good genes, I suppose. Same as Rosie, Maverick, and Bennett. We seem to be the only three who aren’t affected.”
She’s right. Kindra and Ezra huddle by one of the masts, both of them slightly paler than normal.
Bennett tends to Cat, who hasn’t stopped dry heaving since we set sail.
Rose flits between Aven and Grim, who sit on the deck with their heads hanging between their bent knees.
She places a damp cloth to their necks, periodically wringing it out in a bucket of ice water.
“This is a fucking mess,” I say. “How are we supposed to put on a show when seventy-five percent of us are down for the count?”
Jim approaches from our right. Even though Maverick warned us about his transformation, it’s still a surprise to see Blackbeard in the flesh.
I’m thankful he uses his normal voice when he talks to us, though.
A straight face would have been an impossibility if he’d spoken in the voice Maverick described.
He raises his hands in a placating gesture as he steps closer. “I understand the seasickness is a bit of an issue, but you should all feel a bit better once we come to a stop. We’re going against some rougher waters, so it feels a bit bumpy.”
Cat raises her head. “A bit bumpy? Jim, this isn’t a fucking HPV outbreak. It’s hell! Would it have killed you to allow this piece of shit to have stabilizers?”
“Hear, hear,” I add, though only loud enough that Maverick can hear me. He rewards me with a smirk.
Jim’s shoulders droop, giving him the appearance of a wilted flower. “They’re about to drop anchor. As soon as we clear the side of that island, we’ll be in view of the Normies, who’ve just settled at their tables for lunch. Then we can begin.”
The fact that I feel compassion for this man is a bad sign, but I do. He was clearly excited about this event, and it’s not working out as he anticipated. And dammit, I want to help him.
“It’s okay,” I say. “Like you said, once the ship comes to a stop, most of us will feel better. All the murdering will take our minds off this shitty feeling.”
Jim’s eyes soften as he looks at me. “Thank you for the vote of confidence. It means more than you know.”
Oh, I know what the fuck it means, and I’m struggling with it.
I look out at the water. A large patch of ocean creates a barrier between the ship and the island, so I’m not certain how entertained the Normies will be. We’ll look like ants fighting for a bread crumb from this distance.
Jim must realize what I’m thinking, because he pulls a spyglass from an interior pocket and hands it to me.
I extend the lens and peer through the eyepiece.
The device eats up the distance, and I can make out leaves on the island trees.
A few small birds huddle amongst the rocks lining the shore on this side.
“The guests on the island will have something similar, though not so powerful. We want them to be close enough to see some action without realizing what’s actually happening.
” Jim takes the offered spyglass and passes it to Eve, who tries it out, then passes it to Maverick.
“They won’t get them until after the first event, however. ”
“Why is that?” Maverick asks as he stares at the island through the lens.
“I tried to figure out how to make keelhauling look less authentic, even from a distance, but it was unmistakable in our test runs. A living person goes in, and a dead person usually comes out.” Jim shakes his head.
“Blood helps sell real death as fiction. Without the set dressings, it’s clear that we’re just hauling up drowned men and women. ”
“Keelhauling?” I look at Maverick. “Test runs?”
“Yes, well, we couldn’t very well have the big show be our dress rehearsal, could we? I needed to know if this would work, and it does.” Jim clears his throat and looks into the distance. “Just not as well as I’d hoped. Some of them survive.”
Maverick turns to me, ready to explain. “Keelhauling is where a rope is tied to?—”
“I know what keelhauling is,” I say. What I can’t say is that I’m not okay with this sort of torture. It’s cruel and unusual in all the worst ways.
But at least there’s a chance of survival, I guess. Maybe I can help our Cattle make it through to the end. I’ll find out soon enough because the island’s forest-enclosed beach eases into view, and the pirate ship comes to a stop.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Maverick whispers as Jim hurries away. “You can’t save them.”
“Who said anything about saving anyone?” I look out at the water, unable to meet his eyes.
“For a fed, you sure suck at lying.”
I grit my teeth and grip the railing tighter. “I’m struggling with this, okay? It’s not easy to let go of my morals.”
“You don’t have to let them go. You just need to adjust them.”
“Then I’m having trouble adjusting my morals. Happy?” I groan and tip my forehead against the backs of my hands. “I’m sorry, but this is incredibly stressful. Can’t we just try to help our Cattle stay alive? For me?”
“I don’t know how that will work, but...”
I push out my lower lip as he looks at me.
He sighs and shakes his head. “I’ll do what I can.”
That will have to do, because it’s time. The anchors have dropped, and our Cattle have been led onto the deck. They’re dressed in period clothing as well, though they look like their outfits came straight from a Chinese sweat shop. I highly doubt pirates ever wore neon-green spandex leggings.
Crew members work to fasten thick rope around each man’s waist. Their hands are bound behind their backs, and their legs sport metal shackles around their ankles, preventing them from running or kicking. Colored bands circle each wrist. One man sports a yellow band.
“That’s the one I want,” I tell Maverick as I point to the yellow-banded man. “We don’t have to feel bad for keeping him alive.”
He sighs and takes my hands in his. “Compassion is a privilege that has been ripped away from most of us, either through genetics or experiences. Be glad that you know it so intimately, and please don’t ever change.
” With a sigh, he looks at his feet. “We’ll take the yellow guy for keelhauling, and we’ll pull the rope as quickly as we can. At the next station?—”
“Next station? How many murder stations do we have to go through?” I hold my hand to my forehead and close my eyes. “I’ve died and gone to serial killer preschool. Are we going to fingerpaint with blood and stack body parts as we count them?”
Maverick doesn’t laugh.
“I’m sorry. It’s just...a lot. I know I’ve already killed, but this isn’t getting any easier for me.”
Having caught this bit of our conversation, Cat stumbles over. “Are you struggling with it too? I had a hard time at the winter retreat, so I know where you’re coming from. What’s your MO again? Maybe I can help.”
Maverick and I lock eyes, and I kick myself for speaking so loudly. And fuck, I can’t remember my MO! I know that the Fisherman story is incorrect, but it’s been days since Maverick made up the lie to replace it, and now I’m fucking screwed because I can’t remember the new tall tale.
Maybe the department was right. I’m not cut out for field work, and I never have been. The curtain is about to come crashing down.
But then Maverick steps in and saves the day. “She was seen smiling before taking a kill, so they call her Mona Lisa, but she’s still kind of new to this. Her previous kills were personal, and she’s struggling to find the motivation here.”
“Oh, I see,” Cat says with a nod as she turns to me. “It helped me to learn what they did. I’d get so pissed off that murder was the only option. When you think about their victims, it’s kind of hard to see any other solution.”
I want to say that recidivism is lower than it’s ever been, but that would be a lie. It would also out me as a fucking fed, so I just smile at her.
Is she correct? Have they had it right all this time? Maybe their solution to our first-world problem isn’t so terrible, but who decides which people are vile enough to become Cattle?
“Don’t overthink it,” she adds. “I see the wheels spinning in your mind, and that’s—” Her stomach lurches, and she covers her mouth with her hand before running to the side of the ship.
Don’t overthink it. Okay.
I’ll try.