My stomach lets loose, tossing up everything it has as I aim right for Calico Jack’s nasty yellowed pillow. When I can finally breathe again, I spit what’s left on his bed, admire my handiwork for only a moment, then return to the door.
The ship is back to rights now, and I can feel its movement. We’re speeding through the water. But I still see the lights through the mist, the lanterns that promise a brief reprieve at the hands of Captain Hook. A laughable thought.
I grip the doorknob and turn it slowly. Cracking the door open, I realize I shouldn’t worry too much about stealth. The pirates are dashing around and yanking on ropes, turning cranks, and staring at the water both ahead and behind. They pay me no mind. The sails are full and tight, the wind pushing us ahead at a reckless pace.
The captain is above me shouting orders, and I ease out and peek up at him. The ship’s wheel is on the top deck above the captain’s quarters. He’s got a death grip on it, his eyes straight ahead, though I don’t know what he sees through the mist. It’s thick and swirling. We could be heading right for an iceberg, and we’d never know it. My stomach threatens to empty again, and I swallow hard, fighting off the nausea as best I can.
A pirate runs past, then scales the mast ahead of me. He moves easily up it, grabbing the ropes and bits of grip until he’s at the very top. Hanging onto it, he leans out and looks ahead.
“We’re too close, Captain!” His yell is barely audible over the sound of the ocean and the wind in the sails. “It’ll swallow us!”
“He won’t take this from me!” The captain yells back. “James Hook can bugger himself right in his own asshole before I’ll give him the girl!”
I don’t dare look up at Calico Jack again, but the ship doesn’t change direction. We’re still hurtling straight ahead toward whatever the guy up the mast is worried about. Wait, didn’t someone yell something about a whirlpool earlier? The blood drains from my face, and I grip the door hard as I try to peer into the fog. I remember a whirlpool on Hook’s maps. Is that where we’re headed? If the map was accurate, then the whirlpool is enormous. Plenty big enough to destroy this ship.
“Captain!” The man on the mast is almost screaming now. “Captain, please!”
A shot goes off.
I jump back inside the doorframe as the pirate falls to the deck right in front of me.
He lands all wrong, his legs twisted and his face down. My gorge rises again, and I dry heave.
“If any more of you decide to go yellow on me, you’ll meet the same fate!” Calico Jack yells.
No one comes to check on the dead man. The others just keep working as if their captain didn’t just murder a man.
“If Hook gets ahold of us, you’ll wish I did you the same!” Calico Jack adds. “Guernsy, is the powder ready? Where the fuck is Guernsy?”
“He’s below, Captain. Cannons are ready,” one of the men yells.
Calico Jack laughs, the sound unhinged. He’s afraid. No matter what he says, he’s terrified of Hook. So scared, in fact, that’s he’s sailing us right into our death.
Keeping my hands on the outer wall of the captain’s cabin, I make my way to the side of the ship. The rowboat is there. Covered loosely with a tarp, it has oars poking out on either side. Maybe I could climb in and—I stop and look up when I hear a roar.
It only grows louder as I stare at the fog ahead of us. The crew does the same, some of them letting go of their ropes and hanging onto the rails as the mist clears.
The source of the roar becomes clear—the whirlpool. The waters spin in a huge circle, waves higher than the ship rising in a wall around it and echoing out into the sea before dissipating. We can’t go in there. There’s no way we’d survive.
“Ready the cannons!” Calico Jack yells, his voice barely audible over the din of the water.
My knuckles go white as I grip the sides of the rowboat.
Turning back, I gasp when I see the Jolly Roger right behind us, its figurehead a beautiful mermaid with her teeth bared.
“Hard port!” Calico Jack yells as the ship wrenches to the side.
I hold onto the rowboat as we veer away from the swirling walls of water ahead of us, the ship fishtailing as we swing around to face the Jolly Roger broadside.
“Fire!” Calico Jack cries.
The entire ship rocks as the cannons let loose. I want to cover my ears, but I don’t dare let go of the rowboat. Smoke and the acrid smell of burned powder fill the air as bits of wood fly off the sides of the Jolly Roger. But it’s like a fly biting a horse—unpleasant for the horse but easy enough to ignore. The Jolly Roger keeps coming, the figurehead aiming right for us.
But we’re moving again. Backwards this time.
“Captain, the whirlpool’s got us!” a pirate yells from somewhere behind me.
“No!” Calico Jack turns the wheel in a never-ending circle, but whatever he’s doing isn’t enough. His ship can’t resist the pull of the water. My stomach clenches and cramps, and I try to pull myself into the rowboat. It’s futile. I know it is. The waves we’re being dragged into will drown everything—the Ranger and this sad little rowboat right along with it.
