Chapter 13 #4
When my momentum finally lets up, I scramble to my knees and then my feet. Glancing behind me, I don’t see the pirate. Did he give up and head down to the beach without me?
I stumble toward the trees and sigh with relief once I’m under their canopy, but I can’t stop, not until I find somewhere to hide.
Pushing myself despite the aches erupting all over me, I forge ahead though the ground here is soggy.
It pulls at my shoes as I search around for a good tree or patch of bushes to hide in.
The farther I go, the mushier the ground gets, and the smell is like nothing I’ve ever known—rotten with a side of boiled eggs.
I have to stop and yank one of my legs free, and that’s when I realize I’ve come too far.
My other leg is sinking more, the black muck beneath me oozing up and swallowing my leg up to the knee.
Fear hits me. Panic like I’ve never known bubbles like lava as I watch myself sinking into the muck.
I have to get out. But when I try to pull my stuck leg free, all I do is bury myself more.
Tears well in my eyes as I reach behind me for a sapling and try to use it to pull myself out. It bends in my hand, then breaks, leaving stinging cuts on my palm. There’s nothing else within my reach, and I’m still sinking, the muck up to my mid-thigh now.
“You could call for help, you know.”
I turn my head to find the pirate standing in the crook of a tree behind me. He watches me, though I still can’t see his eyes under the brim of his hat.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to know you’ve never been in a bog before.” He clucks his tongue.
“Can you get me out?”
“I could.” He doesn’t move.
“Please!” I feel hot tears rolling down my cheeks.
“I’ll need something from you in exchange.” He steps down from the tree, and I gasp. But he doesn’t sink. His boots are clean despite the muck beneath them.
“How?” I look down to see my legs are completely stuck in the mire.
“You should be more concerned with our bargain.” His full lips are still tilted into a smirk.
“Okay, what do you want?” I push at the muck, but it just coats my hands.
“Agree to come with me to the Jolly Roger, and I’ll get you out.”
I shake my head. “Hook will kill me.”
He shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
When he turns and takes a step away from me, I scream. “Wait!”
He looks at me over his shoulder. “What is it, lass?”
“Please don’t leave me.” I shudder as I sink even farther, up to my hips. “Please.”
“So you’ll agree then?”
I know I shouldn’t. I know I should try to stay calm and wait for Peter or one of the Lost Boys to find me. But each breath sinks me deeper, and I can’t stem the panic that rises inside me like the tide.
“Yes!”
“I’ll hold you to it.” He turns and picks his way to me, his boots sure over the surface of the black mud.
“How?” I yell as I watch him practically skate over the bog.
“If you know where to look, the mangrove roots are just beneath the surface.” He reaches me, then takes my hand and guides it to a mucky spot beside me. “Here.” He presses my palm down, and that’s when I feel the solid root.
I could’ve pulled myself out this whole time.
His smirk grows when he realizes I just realized I’ve been duped.
“Bastard!” I yell as he takes both my hands and pulls me slowly from the mud.
“I’ve been called worse, lass.” He chuckles.
I wince when I feel one of my shoes come off. Then the other one gives up, too. “Shit!”
“The mouth on you.” He lifts me all the way out and wraps one arm around my waist, keeping me at his side. Pointing ahead, he says, “Look. See there? If you pay attention, the roots give off tiny bubbles. That’s how you know where to step.”
I peer at the mud and can’t believe it. He’s right. I can see a network of roots here and there, the tiny bubbles that I hadn’t noticed telling me where I should’ve stepped.
“You tricked me.” I step where he steps as he picks his way across the muck.
“Not a trick. You could’ve died there if I hadn’t saved you.” He leads me from the bog, down a small rise, and onto the beach.
“You didn’t save me.” I’m still covered in black mud.
“I did, lass.” He finally lets me go, and I take stock of the stinking goo all over me. “You hurt?” He steps to me and gently tilts my chin up. “Got a nasty scrape here.” He inspects my face. “What about the rest of you?”
I jerk out of his hold. “The rest of me is none of your business.”
He makes a low sound, almost like a growl, then points at a line of boats on the beach. “The rowboat is just there. But I’ll need you to take a little dip and wash all that off before you come aboard.”
“What?” I gawk at him.
“If you’ve got more cuts than just the one on your cheek, the last thing you need in them is bog mud.” He crosses his arms over his tan chest and looks down at me. “Not to mention, I can’t have you stinking up the place.”
I can’t tell if I’m offended or mortified. Maybe a bit of both. “You’re a real asshole, you know that? I bet you’re Hook’s favorite.”
“I like to think so.” His smirk is back as he points to the waves. “Wash off, lass, and then we’ll head to sea.”
I don’t have much choice. It’s either try to fight the pirate who’s built like a brick wall or get into the water. I back toward the surf and wince when my feet touch the waves.
“Can’t swim?” he asks.
“I can. I just haven’t had good luck in these waters.
” I actually feel a sense of relief when the black mud washes off my feet, leaving them pale in the moonlight.
It gives me courage to go out farther. Bending my knees, I get low in the water, then duck under a wave.
The sea turns muddy around me, so I doggie paddle a little bit deeper and dunk myself again.
The muck washes away, and I grab my beat-up sweatshirt and move it back and forth, making sure to get all the oozy bits out that I can. Ew.
One more dunk. When I come up, I see the Jolly Roger in the distance.
I swear there’s a man standing on the deck, a feather pluming from his hat as he watches me.
I shiver and chalk it up to my imagination.
Hook wouldn’t be able to see me all the way over here, just like I wouldn’t be able to see him.
But I have no doubt he’s there waiting for his prized neverbear.
Instead, he’s going to get me. My stomach sinks at that realization.
I could be going to my death. But will it be real? Will I just wake up in my dorm room?
“That’s enough, lass. Come on back.” The pirate is at the edge of the waves, his gaze on me.
I wish I could see his eyes. I want to tell him I’m scared, that I don’t want to die, that I’ll fight him. But none of that matters. He stands there like a wall, one with shackles that will close around me the second I leave the water.
“Don’t make me come in after you, lass. You won’t like it.” He steps closer, the waves washing over his black boots. “Though I certainly will.”
“I’m coming.” I shake as I force my legs to work, to move back to shore.
That’s when I feel the familiar grip of claws. I yelp for a second, then sigh with relief as I’m pulled under, my last view of shore with the pirate running full force at me, his hat falling off and giving me a glimpse of unfathomable blue eyes.