by Ryan Gilbert
“Get out of my head, Garrett,” Riggs said calmly.
“Oh, ye know I can’t do that, Captain. I ain’t got the power to do that. Yer the one who’s bringing me back.”
Garrett looked down at the man beside him, chuckling.
“So how close were ye this time?” he asked.
Glaring at his hallucination, Riggs replied, “Too close.”
The traitorous crewmate observed his captain’s assailant, absentmindedly twisting his hook as it hung at his side. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow, peering over at Riggs.
“I know what you’re thinking, boy. You think that fighting these urges’ll keep ye from becoming like me.”
Garrett pointed over at the dead man lying in the alley.
“You’re not doin’ a good job of it.”
Riggs sat silently, trying not to listen to the monster inside his head. Garrett was nothing more than his own personal demon, a beaten villain clawing away at his conqueror’s mind.
“I am not like you,” Riggs said defiantly.
The hook-handed pirate stood up, stared down at the Captain, and said, “Oh, you say that now… but have a listen. What did ye want that started you on this path as captain?”
Riggs stood up and tried to leave, but Garrett appeared in front of him, circling him as he spoke venom into his captain’s ears.
“Power. You wanted power, same as me. Now what did ye use to get that power?”
“Shut up, you rat. You’re in my head. You don’t exist,” Riggs said, trying to ignore what was being said.
Not even listening to his captain, Garrett answered his own question, “You mutinied against Richardson, your leader for years. Does that sound any different from what I did to you, Riggs?”
The truth stung. The hairs on the Captain’s neck bristled, and he shook, not wanting to hear any more.
“You and I aren’t very different, Captain. In time, you’ll know the true joy of giving in to your lust for blood.”
Riggs shut his eyes and doubled over, clutching his ears so he could stop hearing Garrett’s voice. It frightened him how much he had become like his evil crewmate. He repeatedly tried to tell himself that it was not possible, but it was. Everything that he had been told was true. Opening his eyes, Riggs cautiously looked around him. Garrett had disappeared, returning to the recesses of the Captain’s mind until the next time Riggs would nearly break.
It was torture.
Wiping the dirt from his coat, Riggs took a deep breath and stepped out of the alley. He needed to relax. Most of all, he needed to get his mind off Garrett. The best way that he could do that was by finding his crew. They would at least try to cheer him up and encourage him.
After several minutes of walking, the Captain arrived at the Goddess of Rum, the tavern that he and his friends frequented the most. Stepping over a familiar drunkard at the steps, Riggs pushed open the door, letting the welcome sounds of intoxicated scoundrels and desperate wenches rush into his ears. He let out a heavy breath, glad to be back in a carefree environment.
As he made his way to the back of the tavern, the Captain began to see the rest of his crew. With Coral Jack’s drunken yelling permeating through the noise to reach his captain, Riggs was surprised he had not heard them already. Weaving through the crowd, he walked to his friends’ table and sank into a chair.
“Welcome back, Captain. Did ye have a… a… what exactly were ye doing?” asked Coral Jack.
The boatswain had drank far too much rum for him to even remember why Riggs had left.
“Ain’t nothin’, Jack,” Riggs replied, “Keep enjoyin’ your drink.”
Coral Jack nodded and raised the glass to his mouth, but Valera snatched it away. The mermaid shook her finger at both of the pirates, giving them a stern look.
“You’ve already had too much rum,” she said to Jack, “I don’t want you vomiting on me later.”
He tried to reach for the alcohol, but Valera just passed it down to Ripper, the Jamaican master gunner. He swallowed the remaining rum in one massive gulp, tossing the empty glass into Jack’s hands. A dejected look appeared on the pirate’s face as he set the glass on the table and sulked.
At Ripper’s side sat Sapphire. She just watched the ordeal, laughing at the boatswain’s ridiculous expressions. Periodically, she would fidget with her coat, trying to adjust it so that it was comfortable while still covering her fairy wings.
“What do ye say we have one more round o’ drinks?” asked Clint, the navigator.
While he was one of Riggs’ closest friends, Clint was also one of the more superstitious members of the crew. The Captain could see the relief on his navigator’s face when alcohol was mentioned. With the Navy seemingly growing in power, he needed all the help that he could get to relax.
“All except for him,” said Valera, pointing at Coral Jack.
“O’ course… all except for Jack.”
The only silent one at the table was Eli Carter, former Navy commander-turned-pirate. The crew of the Red Sky had only found that out last year, right before the destruction of the Adventure Prize and Jonathan Warner. Their trust in Eli had initially been shaken. Some members of the crew still held his deception against him. Most of the crew with which he had served for years decided to give him another chance, a chance to prove that he belonged on the Red Sky. So far, he had earned it.
Riggs took a swig of rum, watching each member of his crew in silent envy. He wanted to be happy and jovial like they were, but all that he could manage was a meager façade.
Motioning to Clint, the Captain asked, “How long do ye reckon ye’ll be here for, Mr. Wayko?”
The navigator tapped at his head for a moment before responding, “Don’t rightly know, Captain. Maybe a couple more hours if that’s alright with you.”
Riggs waved his hand to dismiss the statement.
“A couple more hours seems fine. I just want the ship to be ready to leave port by tomorrow mornin’.”
“Aye, Captain.”
“Ye can count on us,” said Coral Jack, standing on wobbly legs only to fall back into his seat in a drunken stupor.
Rolling his eyes, Riggs rested his arms on the table and tried to relax. For the past couple months, he had been even more restless than before. The only time that he was calm was when he was at the helm of the Red Sky. He just wanted to be able to feel the wood of the wheel in his hands and remember all of the times that he and Julia had stayed up until the late hours of the night, her arms wrapped around him while he steered the ship. He clenched and unclenched his fingers absentmindedly, his focus dwelling solely on his memories.
“Are you alright, Captain?” asked Eli.
Quickly, Riggs snapped out of it.
“What? Oh… aye, I’m fine,” he said, trying to make it sound as sincere as possible.
Eli shrugged and returned to his drink, not bothering to dig any further.
Riggs almost wished that he would.
As the Captain leaned back in his seat, he felt a hand tap on his shoulder. If the hand belonged to a rowdy drunkard, then Riggs was ready to beat some sense into him. A slurred voice confirmed his suspicions that the man was drunk. He swiveled around, ready to confront whoever it was that had touched him.
Thankfully, it was just one of the newer recruits to his crew. Though he did like to partake in copious amounts of alcohol, he was still a decent pirate. At his side was a girl, no older than Sapphire. She was clad in a slinky dress and a corset that was pulled so tightly across her chest that it looked difficult to even breathe.
“What is it ye want, mate?” asked Riggs.
“Didn’t mean to bother ye, Captain, but me an’ some o’ the other men figgered ‘at we should pull together an’ get ye something nice… ‘specially after getting us out o’ so many tight spots with the Navy.”
The man gestured toward the girl, seemingly proud of himself.
Riggs laid his hands on his knees and stared his crewmate dead in the eyes. He did not
even bother to look at the girl.
“Are ye serious?” a perturbed Riggs asked.
A surprised look came to the man’s face.
“If ye want someone else, I can…”
Holding up a hand, Riggs cut him off, saying, “No… no, go back to yer drinks.”
He turned to the girl and stood up from his chair. Instantly, she clung to his arm. There was no emotion in her gesture, just instinct.
Riggs looked down at her and said, “Yer comin’ wit’ me, lass.”
With her still latched onto his arm, the pirate captain made his way through the crowd of disorderly patrons. He pushed open the door to the tavern, letting a rush of air blow into his face. Both he and the girl made their way out into the streets of Rebelde.
Once they were out of sight of the tavern windows, Riggs pulled the girl into a doorway, hiding both of them. The girl leaned in for a kiss, but the Captain just held her back at arm’s length.
“Did I do something wrong, hun?” she asked, a bit surprised by the pirate’s actions.
Ignoring the question, Riggs asked, “How much did they pay ye?”
“They told me not to say…” she answered.
Riggs let out a small chuckle, scratching at his chin.
“Last time I checked, a captain has control of his crew. That bein’ said, since they bought your services for me, I’m orderin’ you to tell me how much they paid ye.”
The girl took a deep breath, obviously nervous about ratting on the pirates who had paid her. Riggs gently let go of her, allowing her to calm down.
After a long pause, the girl said, “Three shillings.”
The pirate placed his hand in the pocket of his coat, asking, “Can ye leave here without sayin’ anythin’?”
The girl nodded her head.
“That’s a good girl.”
Riggs took his hand out of his pocket and dropped a small handful of coins into the girl’s hand.
“Here’s ten shillin’s. Now please leave,” he ordered.
The girl’s eyes went from the coins to the Captain and back again. She slowly stepped back out into the street, unsure what to make of Riggs’ kindness. When she saw that the pirate was no longer paying attention to her, she ran down the street, not even looking back.
With a sigh, Riggs sat down on the ground. He understood that some of his crew did not know how much Julia had meant to him, but whenever he was stuck in a situation like the one from which he had just freed himself, he just wanted to scold the men. He wanted to lash out at them, but he knew that he could not. He needed his crew to trust him, otherwise he could end up with another mutiny on his hands.
“How much did you have to pay this one?”
Startled, Riggs scrambled to get to his feet. Valera stepped into the light of the lantern, casually leaning against the wall.
“You know I wouldn’t have done anythin’ with her, Val,” he said, calming himself.
“Yes, I know,” said the mermaid.
Riggs said nothing, but just nodded.
Valera stepped closer, saying, “Captain… Riggs, I know you’re still hurting. There’s no reason for you to hide that from me or your friends.”
Riggs let his hair hang in front of his face, replying, “Isn’t there? If I show everyone what I really felt, how do ye think they’d react? They’d say I ain’t fit to be captain no more. These men want a leader… and what’s hidin’ under my skin ain’t fit to be a leader.”
He rested his head against the door, not letting the mermaid meet his gaze. He stared at the ground beneath his feet. Every single day, he just wanted to go back to a year ago and try to stop everything from happening. If he could do that, then Julia would still be alive, standing at his side.
But that could not happen.
Instead, the Captain had to contend with many sleepless nights, his face wet with tears that would not stop. He felt horrible… conflicted… disturbed.
Valera laid a friendly hand on Riggs’ shoulder, feeling his shoulders heave as he tried to force the knot out of his throat.
“It’s okay, Captain.”
Half-heartedly, Riggs laughed, “Okay? You really think it’s okay? Here I am, tryin’ to pull myself together… and… you…”
The pirate could not contain himself any more. He choked on the last word and held his hands to his face. The mermaid held her captain like a nurturing mother would hold her child as droplets fell from Riggs’ palms.
“We all miss her, Riggs,” she said, holding onto her friend.
In between heavy breaths, she heard him rasp, “Thank you, Val.”
The two sat in silence for several minutes. Riggs let out all of his emotions, all of his anger, all of his sorrow, all of his pain. If it were anybody else at his side, he would have been embarrassed, but Valera was one of the few members of the crew who knew what it was like to lose someone you loved.
As she tried to comfort her captain, the mermaid asked, “Is there anything we can do to get your mind off this?”
Riggs peered down at the ground and said, “I ain’t got a clue.”
After some thinking, Valera put her hand at her side and pulled something out of her belt. When she held it up to Riggs, he saw that it was a rolled up piece of paper.
“What’s this?” he asked.
She carefully unrolled it, revealing several islands and a compass drawn on the page. Words had been scribbled on the page in a language that Riggs could not understand. The only word that he could recognize was “Jamaica.” On one side of the page, an island had been drawn with a small star next to it.
Beneath the star, it read, “Cada Tesoro.”
Before the Captain could say anything, Valera spoke, “Do you know what this map is, Riggs?”
He shook his head, unable to make sense of the strange words.
“What does tesoro sound like?” Valera asked, trying to make her friend think.
Riggs tried sounding it out, but his mind was other places. He could not focus.
“Treasure, Riggs. This is a treasure map, and the hiding place is not that far away, maybe a few days’ sailing at the most.”
Sighing, Riggs took the map from Valera and poured over it. She was right. The supposed destination was not that far from Rebelde. It would certainly help keep the crew happy if they were to find treasure. Until recently, they had been stuck trying to escape from the Navy ships that prowled the seas.
“You really think this’ll help take me mind off o’ Julia?” he asked incredulously.
“I think it might help,” Valera replied, “If it doesn’t, then at least we’re all a bit richer for it. Might keep the crew satisfied as well.”
A faint grin appearing on his face, Riggs said, “Fair enough. We’ll set sail at dawn.”
As the pirate and the mermaid walked back to the tavern to inform the crew of their plan, Riggs could hear a quiet laughing in his head, a sound he had only heard when his hook-handed crewmate reared his nasty head. Taking a deep breath, the Captain shut Garrett out of his mind, trying to focus solely on the hunt for treasure.
He needed the distraction.
Commodore Hamond strode through the halls of the fort, his shoes clomping on the wooden floorboards. It was late at night in Yorktown, Virginia, but there were far too many reports for him to analyze. Admiral Carter wanted him to read every single report of pirate activity, trying to find any common threads between them. Surely there was some way to determine where this influx of piracy and crime was originating.
At least, that’s what Carter thought.
Even if he had been trying, Hamond knew that there was no common gathering place for pirates. They were not all the same kind of people, whether the Admiral would care to admit it or not. That much had been revealed to the Commodore when he had helped the pirates of the Red Sky battle Marcus Garrett, a deplorable wretch of a man.
At that moment, Hamond reached a door guarded by two soldiers, both men standing at attention as their superior appeared. He
had been so absorbed in his own thoughts that he had not even realized how quickly he had been walking.
“Commodore,” the two soldiers greeted Hamond with a salute from each of them.
“At ease, gentleman,” said the Commodore, “Is the Admiral in his office?”
“I do believe he is, sir,” one of the men replied.
“He summoned me for a meeting. May I go in?”
At the mention of a meeting, the soldiers pushed open the doors, bidding the Commodore to enter. With a nod of appreciation to the men, he stepped into the room, ready to meet with the Admiral.
The instant that he locked eyes with the old Navy officer, he could feel the tension between them increase tenfold. Carter sat at his desk, silently pouring over charts while another officer babbled on about the maps. Hamond and Carter both felt an air of hostility from the other, given the events of a year ago. Not much had changed between them.
“Commodore Hamond, how good of you to join us,” the Admiral said, masking his annoyance behind his nearly emotionless face.
“I came as soon as I received your message, sir.”
“Yes… have you made any progress with those reports?” Carter asked.
Holding back a disgruntled sigh, Hamond replied, “I’ve not had any luck with them. There is nothing linking any of the incidents together.”
“But they were all done by pirates, were they not?” asked the stubborn Admiral.
“Yes, but that has little to do with anything. So far as I could tell, they were all acting on their own accord. None of these pirates share the same tactics, and I would hesitate to say that they even follow any pattern. These pirate attacks can happen anywhere and there is no way that we can predict where they will attack next.”
To Hamond’s surprise, the Admiral started to smile.
“That is exactly why I called you here, Commodore.”
Carter’s statement caught Hamond off guard. What was his superior planning?