Wow… I haven't updated in… a long time. Deepest apologies! I just had some time tonight so I thought I'd write a new chapter. Schoolwork is insane, so I can't make any promises about when the next update will come. But thank you so much to all the people that reviewed last time, and I'll be grateful for anyone who keeps reading!
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The ropes were off; they lay in a puddle of grimy water in the corner. Jen, with her back propped against the wall, massaged her wrists slowly while she tried to conjure an escape plan from the confused jumble of thoughts racing in her head. When she had had her whole mind focused on one thing—getting her hands free—she'd felt calm and controlled and productive. But now… now, panic began to take hold of her again.
She heard footsteps on the deck above her head, and the hatch opening with the dull thud of wood on wood. She scrambled to hide the rope she'd been bound with, thrusting it and her hands behind her back. It was better that they think she was still vulnerable, powerless; they might let their guard down that way.
Buchanan's oily voice called from down the passageway, before she could see his face in the dim torchlight.
"How's my favorite prisoner?"
She said nothing. She'd never been good at defiant or brave words, at the orphanage with its despotic superintendents, or even in schoolyard fights. Whenever she tried, her tormentors just used her own words to mock her. She'd learned to keep quiet and let her actions speak for her; the element of surprise was an added bonus.
The click of his boots got closer. His smugly handsome face came into view, wearing an insupportable little grin under his nose. He got to the cell and wrapped his hands around the bars, peered through the metal door at her as if she were an animal in a cage.
"Hungry?"
She kept silent.
He laughed a little. "Oh, come. I may have been a little rough earlier, but really all I want to do is give you a little adventure. You haven't eaten for almost a day. Here."
He tossed a piece of hard tack onto the floor of the cell. It looked stale and a strange off-white color on the grimy floor. She moved her foot over and ground it to paste beneath her heel; she was afraid she would let herself eat it otherwise.
Instead of angering him as she'd hoped, it seemed to amuse him to no end. He broke out laughing.
"A feisty one!" he said delightedly, as his chuckles subsided. "We don't get many like you! Oh, we'll have such fun together."
Come into the cell and say that, you bloody bastard… Jen thought, and we'll see how much fun you have.
As if answering her call, he took a ring of keys from his pocket and began fitting it into the lock. Just at that moment, a distant voice sounded from above; it sounded like it came from the rigging.
"Mister Buchanan, sir! We have a…"
"Not now, Porter!" Buchanan shouted back with a peremptory air. He flashed a grin again and resumed working the lock. It sprang open and he opened the door.
She drew her knees up to her chest and backed against the wall, preparing to jump up in a split second. Buchanan mistook her actions for fear, and smiled more widely as he advanced upon her.
"Now you just relax, m'dear. This will be a splendid adventure, if you'll just…"
The voice rang out from above again. "But Mister Buchanan! Sir! There's—"
"Porter! Not! N—"
As he turned his head to shout, Jenny jumped up and, still holding the rope, looped it once around his neck and yanked hard before he had time to react. He gagged and clawed at the rope; she hadn't had time to knot it, and it came away easily. She was already halfway to the door, which he had fortunately left open, but before she could flee he came upon her from behind.
"You vicious little vixen!" He screamed, enraged. He took her by the shoulders and began trying to drag her back farther into the cell. She held onto the metal frame of the doorway for dear life. His hands moved over hers, and began prying them off of the bars, evidently not caring if he broke all her fingers in the process. She screamed out loud and kicked at him, catching him squarely in the stomach. Suddenly, shots rang out. Not musket shots, but from the ships' cannons. Porter came thundering down the ladder.
"Mister Buchanan! Mister Buchanan, a ship's come upon us, she's firing—" He paused a moment and took in the scene, Jenny obviously in the process of escaping, Buchanan doing all he could to stop her, the door still ajar because Jenny's body was blocking it.
"Hey, you!" he began, starting toward them, but stopped short. Another sailor had jumped down the ladder all at once, without warning, and dealt him a sharp blow on the back of the head. He fell over, unconscious.
"This isn't exactly where you want to be when pirates be boardin' your ship, mate," the new man said wryly to the slumped figure on the ground. Then he paused a moment to take in the struggle. Just as he watched, Jenny won; Buchanan was distracted a moment as he looked up at the new presence, and Jenny, oblivious, took the chance and ran. Buchanan swore loudly and started after her.
"'Ay!" said the sailor in surprise as Jenny came barreling toward him. He caught her by the arm as she ran past, checking her momentum so sharply that she swung around wildly and lost her balance. "Where you off to in such a hurry?" She screamed in sheer frustration as Buchanan once again came upon her. The sailor yanked her behind him and whipped out a pistol. Before Buchanan could say a word, he had been knocked unconscious in exactly the same way as Porter.
"Didn't much like the look of 'im," the man said to Jen with a slight grin. "Didn't know how to treat a lady." His smile faded, and the lines of his face grew serious as he regarded her. "I think you better come with me." One hand still firmly on her arm, he led her up the ladder to the deck. Too surprised to resist, she followed him, wondering whether she'd just been rescued, or simply traded in one group of captors for another.