Well hey there everyone. Hope you like this new chapter!


For now, I'm going to help whichever godforsaken soul who has to deal with the new lot. And I curse the thought that brought me here.


Max

Okay, so new crews are not fun. Within minutes I singled out the pointless ones. There are a few who may be worthy of making a decent fighter, but others who could barely attack a large tree. Oh dear. The thing is, the tree probably would be absolutely destroyed after they figured out it only needs brute force. Completely. Poor tree.

Iggy is running things, as usual, while Captain Douchebag is most likely sulking in his cabin, away from me. It's not exactly as if I did anything wrong.. I just stubbornly argued with him in front of someone who he supposedly locked up because they are both probably a little bit crazy. Like every freaking person on this ship. Although I shouldn't say it like that. They're all individual in their own ways. Some with intense amounts of pink, some pyromania, some crazed-sword-fighting-manic-cruel, and some too kind to be real...

I guess I must be a little crazy too for deciding to join them.

The group of men are standing off to the side, changing into their clothes. I don't even have to try to look away. Not a single one of them is Max's-stare worthy. Not that I've looked at them in any particular detail. Going by the assumption that they're all these drunkards I encountered last night, I don't want anything to do with them. The strangers who glanced my way, sleep in their blood-shot eyes, filled with fantasy of the world. Eugh.

Weirdly, they seem to be responding well to Iggy's orders and instructions so far, which I guess is a good sign. And none of them have decided to taunt me or talk to me. That's why their heads are still on their bodies. So far.

After about ten minutes of Iggy showing the guys the ropes (literally) of the ship, he tells me I can go. I haven't really been any help to him anyway. Only fetching of the shirts and then holding various things while he hauls the sails and then takes them out again. When I leave, Iggy is beginning to steer the wheel on top deck while the men run about the lower deck of the ship, trying to keep a hold of the ropes and dragging them into place.

I don't have anything to do so I walk around the corridors of the ship, looking for something to do. Fang has locked his cabin up and Ella is with Nudge and the younger members of the crew. Fang's locked door is the only one that bothers me though. I don't go back to my own room, instead just go back up to top deck and ask Iggy when we'll be going. He predicts that it will be the next day. So, I decide to take a walk around the near-empty Tortuga. I figure that, as much as I dislike the night-life, it could be quite nice in the day-time, sun streaking houses and calming breeze. Just enough to keep thoughts from wandering.

The first thing I notice is the sheer emptiness of the place, and then the heat which feels as though it is searing my skin off and turning me into some kind of human-lobster. At least then I can blend into the red walls of the ship in the drawing room - painted in thick, glossy red around the back window of the room, shining a perfect amount of light into the room during day time. I'm thankful that the moonlight doesn't find it's way inside that dusty old room. That would be creepy. Like, ultra creepy. Like some kind of phantom other than Captain I-don't-talk-I'm-just-angry-so-I-shout-at-Max.

Another thing I notice is the certain lack of anything particularly colourful. There are the yellowing houses and faded rooftops which blend with faintly sandy grounds and rotting wooden jetty which leads me to the more solid ground of the island. Palm tree leaves rustle in the soft breeze, their green not quite contrasting with the yellow of everything else on the island.

The houses wind in a strange pattern, leading me down dark alleys and into open spaces and back into darkness again. All the while I feel as though something is following me, tracing my steps and peering round corners at me. Though I don't see anything which bugs me.

Finally I end up at a beautiful beach at what I assume is the other side of the island as I have journeyed past far too many empty taverns ad it seems a whole forest of palm trees and long-dead plants. Strangely they all seem to be on the far side of the island. Here, the wildlife is green and wild and generally... Brighter. The trees give shadow here which is probably why so much has grown. No pirates to hack down the forests of life and no pirates to drink away their troubles and burn things to the ground. Urgh.

I sigh to myself and sit down, the cool sand like a blessing to my hands and to my skin. Sooo good.

I take in the azure waters - yes, I am learning new words thank you very much - and admire the comparison of turquoise sea against blue skies. It's beautiful. I wish my mother could have seen this. She would totally flip. Completely unpolluted waters and a perfect day.

I lean back into the sand and count the clouds and stare at the shapes in the sky, seeing various patterns and things and people. I find a few animals and a couple of questionable shapes. I start to think I'm going crazy, but then it doesn't matter anymore. And, in the cool of the early afternoon and shade of trees, I slept.


When I wake up, evening is beginning to fall and I have not a clue where I am. Maybe someone is worried about me, but that's not my first thought. My first thought is that it's absolutely freezing and I'm only wearing a thin shirt and cotton trousers. Stupid, stupid Max.

Then I start panicking. Because I suddenly feel the movement beneath me and hear shuffling of something familiar. Scuffling of boots along the paths of Tortuga, hurried but calm at the same time. And I know that sounds a little odd, but it makes sense to me. Like a soldier marching, or something like that.

I don't want to open my eyes but I have to see where I'm going. This has happened before.

Back on the island, when the guys were pulling pranks on each other, they would take people from their beds while sleeping. In the middle of the night they would sneak in and rip the sheets off their victim and carrying them out in a march into the hall. The person would be reeling from the cold so much that they wouldn't be able to consider the movement. But then they would and it would freak them out. The guys would leave the person to then wake up on their own, confused. It was freaky as hell. To wake up somewhere you don't know how you got there.

We used to have a lot of fun, but that wasn't my favourite thing to do. Sure, it was funny when it was others being taken from their beds and screaming like sissy's, but not so good when you're on the other end of the prank. Some of those days gave me a few of my random freak-outs that I have - like claustrophobia. The guys liked locking people in small areas for hours on end. Then you got punished for being out of class for so long.

Basically, being kidnapped and in small spaces; not really my thing.

In the distance I can hear the loud rabble of the nearest tavern and the clanking of tankards, even from outside. I crinkle my nose in dislike. I think my kidnapper, whoever they may be, notices my being awake and goes to set me down on the ground.

When I say sets me down, I mean drops me. Onto the ground. All stones and cracked paving slabs.

OUCH!

What the hell?!

"Hey!" I shout, my eyes flying open and arms flapping to try and stop my fall, even just a little bit. Unfortunately it's my butt which takes the fall the hardest. Possibly one of the most painful things I've felt and have felt only a few times.

"Get up." The voice comes from above, deep and threatening. I scowl for a second before obeying, despite my sore bottom and aching legs. I don't say anything because I feel like I shouldn't breath, let alone speak some snarky response that looks like I will get stabbed or challenged to a duel. I do not want another of those after such a short time.

I stand up straight. There are two of them. One kidnapper is standing tall in front of me, like a wall of muscle and strong build. The other is turned around, hunched over and cloaked. Even in the dim warmth of the evening, they are shivering. From behind I can see that they are well curved and strong around the shoulders with slender legs and are tall, but still they hunch over, seeming to be hiding from me. I lean towards the figure, apprehensive. They shuffle their feet and I step back, stumbling slightly in the dark. The wall of man moves away from me, not moving a muscle of his face; no emotion. There is barely any light from any direction in this position. The houses block most of the light from the tavern, and even then we are behind them - there are no windows turned in our direction, in this small alleyway, out of the sight of anyone.

"The boy. He is not who he seems to be," croaks the voice behind the cloak in a faint Spanish accent, face turning slightly in my direction. "You should not follow him, Maxine."

"How do you know my name?" I ask, feeling brave and glancing up at the huge man before me and the shy cloaked figure.

"That is none of your concern." The figure straightens up and turns around, facing me completely. I can barely see the features but I can tell that it's a woman and I can tell that she is beautiful. With a Spanish woman's golden glow and dark eyes and round features. She is youthful but not necessarily young, and she speaks like she knows much of the world I am now choosing to live in - well, briefly stay until I get away from somewhere to somewhere else.

"Stay away from who?"

"The boy, Walker. Though he may seem like a man, he is merely a boy, and a dangerous one at that."

Fang? Dangerous? Tell me something I don't know.

Oh the sass...

"He's a bit mental but I don't think he's actually dangerous to anyone around him. He's not the kind to go for broke and massacre his whole crew," I say, almost laughing in spite of the thought. The man - sorry, boy - who sliced his friend, attacked me and is generally a bit mean, massacring everyone. Doesn't seem right and certainly doesn't seem believable even if he may be a bit of a maniac from time to time.

"It is his intentions that are dangerous," the woman says, pleading with me. Her hand clasps onto my wrist, nails biting into my skin. "Do not follow him anywhere, Maxine!"

"It's a bit late for that." I scowl. I refuse to stay here on this godforsaken island just because some crazy Spanish lady tells me that my Captain is a nutcase - I know that already. "I don't even know you. Why should I listen to you?"

"You may do what you wish, but that is my advice. The boy is not good for you or for anybody. He is a danger to us all. He demands to find the greatest treasures which must not be found under any circumstances. He aims too high and you must bring him down before it is too late."

"Too late for what?"


I wake up, warm and dry and with no sound of rabble or sea or a hissing Spanish woman, telling me the woes of my future. In fact, I wake up in my bed in Nudge's dorm room, glowing candle flickering in my tired eyes. The edge of my bed is dipped with the weight of another sitting on the end of it.

Another with dark hair, curled at the ends, and dark eyes and tanned skin and a scary disposition.

"What do you want?" I mutter, turning my head away from him and avoiding his burning stare. It's like he's actually making an effort to look like he gives a damn. "How did I get here? I was on a beach."

"Dylan went to get you. He saw you leave and followed you." Fang pauses, looking down at his feet. Perfect Dylan with his burned wrists and yellow hair and frankly quite decent body tone. I try to sit up higher in the bed but his legs are in the way. Very annoying. Not only is he sitting on my bed, he is now preventing escape from here. His hair falls into his dark eyes and I want to brush it aside but I don't care enough to move my arm. "I didn't know you'd gone."

How very considerate of him...

It's like he doesn't even notice.

"I just wanted to see that you're okay. You came in completely passed out and freezing cold." He mumbles and attempts a small smile. It doesn't work and turns into a painful grimace which, for some reason, makes me angry. I bite my tongue though. It's a very useful skill I'm slowly learning to master, with a little practice and time. My gob doesn't go off on an angry tangent so much anymore which is great in this world when I'm likely to be punished my stabbing as opposed to the cane back home on the island. "I'm sorry Max. I don't know what I did..."

Haha priceless

Guys.. Ever the stereotypical douchebag-and-doesn't-realise-it

"Don't you have a ship to run?" I ask, cutting him off. He doesn't seem to anything except order other people around here. The Captain nods his head and suddenly seems to wake up a little, nods again and stands up, bracing his hands on his thighs.

"Meeting in the drawing room in ten minutes. Get dressed and be there or you can go back to being Stowaway." He smirks as he leaves the room, glancing back at me for a second. He shuts the door as he leaves.

Urgh. Ten more minutes of sleep and I'm totally there.

I pull the duvet up towards my face and begin to turn over. Then I notice the nail marks on my wrist; sharp and deep but fading fast.


Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I know it was a bit touch-and-go with the whole walking around and flipping between scenes and all that jazz, for which I apologise. So I'm sorry.

Alas, read and review? Next chapter coming soon! (ish)

Gracias!