Rook grabbed the captain’s shoulder and pulled him back. “In case you hadn’t noticed, sir, we’re not far from starvin’ ourselves. We’re down to hardtack and leather, we are!”
Gentleman Jim stopped short and stared at Rook’s hand on his shoulder. Rook withdrew the offending appendage, but the expression on his face remained angry and defiant.
“How long have you been part of my crew, Rook?”
Rook grunted. “Eighteen months.”
“Eighteen months and you still don’t understand the way things work. Or is it that you just don’t want to? I’m tired of your insubordination. I didn’t ask for your opinion, and I don’t care to hear it expressed again. I’m a generous man, so I’ll allow you to survive this one final lapse of judgment.” He held up a finger. “One. Don’t mistake my good nature for weakness or I will make an example of you. Get to work.”
Rook planted his feet. It looked to Dean like he might actually challenge Gentleman Jim, as foolish as that would have been. Dean didn’t do anything. He kept his mouth shut and watched the action unfold, just as a good spy should. Ronan got in between his captain and the insubordinate crewman, just as a good first mate should. “You hard of hearing? Your captain gave you an order, you pox-faced bilge rat! What’re you doing still standing there?”
Rook pointed at the missionaries. “If I wanted to do charity work, I would’ve joined up with their lot. We can’t afford to turn our backs on any kind of loot. Not after the month we’ve had. The pirate king expects a real tribute this time, not more excuses.”
“The pirate king will get his due,” Gentleman Jim said. “He always does. Are you suggesting I pay him with crates of rice and grain?”
“Either that or the ship that carries ’em!”
Gentleman Jim shook his head. “I’m not that kind of pirate. My crew steals from people who can afford it, people who deserve it, and if we’re lucky, both. That’s the Gentleman’s Code.”
And that’s why it doesn’t pay to get attached, thought Dean. His mission was now complete. Gentleman Jim’s fate was sealed. In less than a day, Dean had rooted out the reason the last few payments from the Reckless had been light. Gentleman Jim wasn’t skimming off the top, he was leaving money on the table. Not quite the damnable offense that One-Eyed Jack had suspected him to be guilty of, but that hardly mattered. Either way, he was costing One-Eyed Jack money, and would pay dearly for it once Dean made his report. Dean felt sick. He suddenly remembered why he hated his job enough to run away.
“Gentleman’s Code?” Rook cackled. “Not that kind of pirate? Beggin’ yer pardon, Cap’n, but there’s only one kind of pirate.”
Gentleman Jim’s cutlass flashed from his side. Its edge came to rest against Rook’s jugular. “I respectfully disagree. There’s all kinds.… There’s the kind that follow orders, the kind that swim home, and the kind that have their throats cut. Which one are you?” Rook shuddered and pulled his neck back from Gentleman Jim’s steel as far as he could.
“I’d say he’s the kind who’ll button his lip if he wants to live,” Dean called out, surprising himself. The logical part of his brain had told him not to get involved with matters that didn’t concern him, but he couldn’t help it. Mutinous pirates were like an infection that had to be stamped out immediately, and the fact of the matter was, Dean liked Gentleman Jim. Even so, speaking up in his defense was an odd gesture considering what he was about to do to the man. If only there was some way to warn him without getting in dutch with One-Eyed Jack again.
Rook looked around for allies among the crew of the Reckless. He found there were none to be had, and held his tongue at last. Gentleman Jim stared him down with hard eyes. “If you want to find yourself another ship in the Black Fleet, you’re welcome to do so. In fact, I highly recommend that course of action. But right now you’re part of my crew. I’m the captain here, not you. As long as that’s the case, you will obey my orders, or you will regret it for the rest of your short, miserable life. Is that understood?”
Rook’s eyes turned to slits. “Aye, Cap’n.” He looked like he would have rather eaten worm-ridden hardtack than fall in line with Gentleman Jim’s orders, but with a sword at his throat, he was inclined to do little else.
The confrontation ended without any bloodshed. Rook did as he was told. He sealed up the crates and helped put them back where they belonged. Once that was done, the Pirate Youth shut up the missionaries in Cordoba’s quarters and tied up the rest of his crew. As the boys took their leave of the Santa Clara, Dean tapped Ronan’s shoulder. “This is probably a stupid question, but does One-Eyed Jack know anything about this Gentleman’s Code we keep?”
“You’re right, Seaborne. That is a stupid question.”
Dean looked at Ronan. “You don’t think it might be a problem one day?”
Ronan called to one of his mates and jerked a thumb in Dean’s direction. “Listen to this one. He takes point on a single busted raid and suddenly he’s an expert on looting ships.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. You’re truthfully not worried what could happen if he found out?”
“Relax, will you? We’ve been working this way for years. Years. Unless you plan on ratting us out the next time you and One-Eyed Jack have tea, I think we’ll be fine doing things our way.”
Ronan grabbed a line and swung back to the Reckless. Once his boots hit the deck, he threw the rope back so Dean could follow.
Ronan had no way of knowing the truth of his words. “You’ll be fine, all right,” Dean muttered as he took hold of the line. He wouldn’t be having tea with One-Eyed Jack, but the two of them would definitely be talking, and the conversation would spell the end of Gentleman Jim and the Pirate Youth. Dean wished he could do something for them, but he wasn’t sure he had the stomach to try. He was already on One-Eyed Jack’s bad side. He had to follow orders. He had no choice.
Dean swung back to the Reckless with the rest of the Pirate Youth. Once everyone was back on board, Gentleman Jim cut the line that tied the two ships together. He gave the Santa Clara a mighty shove with his boot, and they were off. As the Reckless sailed away, Dean could tell its captain wasn’t happy about going home empty-handed, but that was the least of his problems. The ship had only just pulled away from the Santa Clara when Dean heard its cannons sound. The crew on deck ran to the railing as Cordoba opened fire. Gentleman Jim rubbed his beard, grumbling. “Well, that’s gratitude for you.”
A cannonball pounded the hull of the Reckless, and the ship began to list. The shift in balance was slight at first, but when Dean felt it happen so fast, he knew the damage was bad. He ran to the side to get a look. Sure enough, the shot had torn a gaping hole in the boat. “We’re taking on water!” he shouted as the deck angled down further. Another cannonball hit its mark, and the Reckless shook so much that Dean had to grab hold of the rigging to keep from flying away. He climbed back onto the deck, but knew he wouldn’t be staying very long once he got there. None of them would, not with an ocean of water pouring into the lower decks.
“Looks like we’re all the kind of pirates that swim home now!” Rook called out from across the ship.
Dean didn’t know whether to feel sad or relieved as he watched the horizon tilt. He hated to say it, but Rook was right. The Reckless had begun its final journey, straight to the bottom of the sea.
CHAPTER 7
THE WRECK OF THE RECKLESS
Man the lifeboats!” Gentleman Jim yelled. “Abandon ship!”
Dean blinked. Already? Most pirate captains he knew waited until they were safely off the boat and rowing hard for shore before they gave that order. Gentleman Jim apparently felt his crew deserved more than the standard pirate code of “every man for himself.”
“Ronan! Get the boys off the ship and get us ready for a long journey. No one gets left behind, you hear? No one!”
“Aye aye!” Ronan shouted back. Dean was taken aback by the code of honor that was enforced on board the Reckless. It
took a special kind of madness to try to be a pirate and a good man at the same time, but somehow Gentleman Jim pulled it off. That said, his noble heart wasn’t doing him any favors. His ship was sinking fast, and if the crew was to survive, there was much to do and not a moment to lose. Dean had seen ships even larger than the Reckless vanish forever beneath the waves in just over fifteen minutes. He and the rest of the Pirate Youth ran about the ship readying launches, gathering provisions, and throwing any object that would float over the side.
There were far more people than lifeboats, which meant that anything that would keep a person dry and out of the water could not be allowed to go down with the ship. Hatches were broken off at the hinges and thrown overboard. The door to the captain’s cabin came next, followed by his table, which was stubborn as an oyster that refused to part with its pearl. Its legs had been bolted to the deck to keep it from sliding about, so the boys had to chop them off with hatchets and carry the tabletop out by itself.
Stripping down the ship was the kind of job that wasn’t easy under normal conditions, and even harder while under attack. Captain Cordoba was relentless in his campaign to sink the Reckless. He fired his cannons in broadsides, sending walls of shot at the doomed pirate ship. Most of the cannonballs missed their mark, but when they hit, they tore through wood like parchment, and splinters filled the air with flying needles. Gentleman Jim’s crew raced across the deck of the Reckless, ducking, dodging, and shielding their eyes as they tried to save everything that wasn’t nailed down.
Amidst the chaos, Dean grabbed a handle on the main cargo hatch and called for help opening it. What he got was a quarrelsome pair of twin pirates named Kane and Marko. They helped lift open the hatch, and Dean pointed at the freshwater stores kept down below. “If we want to drink something other than salt water once this ship goes down, we’d best get those barrels out fast. Let’s go!”
“Right,” Kane said, tapping his brother on the shoulder. “You go down with him and hand up the barrels. I’ll stay up here and take ’em from you one by one.”
Marko scrunched up his face. “Why am I the one going down there? You get below and hand ’em up to me.”
“I’m not going down there! What if something happens and I end up stuck under a barrel? The ship’s sinking, you know.”
“I know the ship’s sinking! I suppose it’s all right if I get stuck under a barrel?”
Marko shoved Kane, and Kane shoved him back. Dean got in between them before a fight broke out. “We don’t have time for this! One of you has to go. I don’t care who. I’m not strong enough to bring them up myself.”
Marko presented Kane to Dean. “He’s the stronger one. He should go down.”
“Me? Stronger?” Kane shook his head. “I don’t think so. You punched me in the eye a fortnight ago and it still smarts! Look here, see the bruise? It’s yet to fade!”
“Blow me down!” Ronan thundered, coming up behind the twins and grabbing each of them by the collar. “What is this? Rook’s skulduggery contagious? Get down there before I chain you both to the rudder!” He pushed Kane and Marko through the open hatch. “Haul up those provisions! First the water, then the food. Now!”
The pirates hit the lower deck hard and scrambled to their feet, ready to do their part at last. “Thanks,” Dean said to Ronan.
Ronan shook him off. “I didn’t do it for you. Without that water, we’re dead.”
Dean shrugged. “Whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter. You two! Here!” Dean slid a gangplank down through the hatch for the twins to roll the barrels up on. He stood ready to receive the first one when a chain shot struck the ship. Two large cannonballs strung together with iron chains wrapped around the mainmast and pulled it down.
“Look out below!” Gentleman Jim yelled as the mast toppled over. Kane and Marko covered their heads and ran. Wooden spars from the sails stabbed into the deck as they fell. Lines snapped and shot back like whips. Almost everyone on the ship’s upper deck jumped overboard as the mainmast crashed down. It lay across the deck like a fallen giant, and several young pirates were pinned beneath the sails that came down with it. Dean went to cut them free, but Cordoba’s last cannonball hit the broken mast first. It spun around the splintered base and swept across the deck like the hand of a vengeful god, taking out everything in its path. It was headed right for Dean and Ronan when Gentleman Jim came out of nowhere and shoved them out of harm’s way. They tumbled down through the main cargo hatch to join Kane and Marko.
Dean landed on his feet and turned around just in time to see the mast deal the captain a crippling blow. He watched from below as Gentleman Jim’s body took flight.
“CAPTAIN!” Ronan cried.
Dean sprang up and poked his head out of the hatch. Gentleman Jim was nowhere to be seen. Most of the crew was gone too. The swinging mast had all but cleared the deck. Dean pulled himself up out of the hatch and ran to look over the side. Half the crew was in the water and swimming for their lives. Gentleman Jim was floating facedown, bobbing along like a piece of driftwood. Ronan dove in after him before Dean even had a chance to point him out. He reached the captain quickly and turned him onto his back, supporting him about the neck and shoulders. Ronan looked around for a piece of floating wreckage to grab hold of before they both drowned.
Dean spied a pirate rowing alone in one of the lifeboats that had come off the Reckless. “You there! Turn around! The captain’s been injured!”
The pirate turned his head, but he didn’t turn the boat. Dean’s heart sank when he saw it was Rook steering the lifeboat.
“Seaborne!” Ronan called out. “I’ll take care of the captain! You take whatever you can and get off that ship!” He turned and yelled to Rook. “Ahoy! Toss me a line, you lice-infested sea bass!”
Rook held up a length of rope and grinned a slimy grin. Dean figured there was about as much chance of Rook sprouting angel’s wings and flying off to heaven as there was of him lifting a finger to help Gentleman Jim. Luckily, Rook’s hand was forced when a few more boys climbed into the tiny boat and he was no longer alone. Bowing under pressure from his shipmates, he threw out the line.
Without the captain, the evacuation devolved into chaos. Dean called for Kane and Marko, but they had jumped ship with the rest of the crew. He was left alone on board with all the food and water.
“Perfect,” Dean grunted as he watched the freshwater stores roll around below. They needed those provisions, but he couldn’t bring them up alone. With the bow of the Reckless already dipping below the waves, the ship’s angle was too steep and unforgiving to merit even an attempt. Raising each barrel took two men when the ship was level.
“Think,” Dean told himself. He paced the ship, racking his brain for a solution as the front end of the Reckless sank deeper and deeper below the waves. Meanwhile, the stern end of the ship rose higher and higher out of the water. Dean went to the side and grabbed on to the gunwale for balance. That was when he looked over the railing and saw a hole in the ship’s hull two decks down. Dean snapped his fingers. “That’s it!” He grabbed a hatchet and jumped back down through the main cargo hatch. If he couldn’t bring the cargo up, he’d roll it out instead.
Dean ran to the ship’s store of rations and went to work pushing the food and water across the floor. It should have been an impossible task for a boy his size, but as the ship continued to sink, the floor’s incline increased. With a little help from gravity, he was able to roll all the barrels down through a hatch that led to the ship’s middle deck. Once that was done, he jumped down after them and ran to the opening in the wall he’d spotted from up above. Moonlight poured in through the ship’s wounded hull, which was preferable to seawater, but Dean was not seeing enough light. The hole was only slightly larger than the cannonball that had created it. Dean had to make it bigger if he meant to get the barrels out that way.
He swung his hatchet into the planks of wood surrounding the hole. He pried boards loose and kicked them out as the Reckless sank. Pack
s of rats scurried under his legs and out through the break in the wall as he hacked away. “Brilliant,” he said, grumbling. “Just brilliant. Staying on board a ship when even the rats know it’s time to leave!”
He gave the wall one final blow as the last wave of rats ran by him. The hole was now wide enough for the barrels to easily pass through. On the lower deck, gravity now worked against Dean. He had to move the barrels uphill to get them off the ship, but thanks to his work with the hatchet, the hull was wide open. Bracing his back against the wall and pushing with his legs, Dean sent the rations out over the side, one after the other. His shipmates outside cheered him, but he took little notice. At this point, it no longer mattered if the Pirate Youth accepted him as one of their own. With or without a ship, Gentleman Jim was going down. Dean’s report would see to that. The Pirate Youth’s days were done. All that mattered now was getting off the Reckless before it was too late. Dean knew he couldn’t get all the barrels out, but he vowed to save as much food and water as he possibly could. It was either that or pray for rain, and maybe even turn cannibal out on the open sea. He found neither alternative appealing. The very idea kept him going back for more barrels.
He finally had to stop when the bow of the Reckless became completely submerged. The stern climbed up high into the air, and the ship rose to an angle that was hard for Dean to move across. The slope of the incline was so steep and the floor so slippery that he struggled to negotiate the deck. He threw out a few coiled piles of rope to tie the barrels together and prepared to take his leave.
“Godspeed, old girl.” Dean patted the ship’s hull. “You held out as long as you could.”
The Reckless groaned in reply. Dean froze in place. Was the ship talking to him? Dean realized his mistake when he saw the straight beams of the hull begin to curve. He drew in a sharp breath as the wooden frame of the Reckless strained against gravity and bent, right at its center— right where he was standing. The stern was rising too high. The ship was approaching a vertical orientation and buckling under its own weight.