Chapter 14

I jump up from my bed and race up the stairs and onto the deck.

There, where the boarding plank had previously rested, is Thomas, soaked to the bone and being held back by three men, who are desperately, and unsuccessfully, trying to throw him back into the water.

He looks angry at being apprehended and is fighting to get out of their grips.

He finally sees me and, with a single burst of strength, manages to free himself from the men.

He rushes to me, and everyone goes into a frenzy, at least half a dozen men chasing after him, and the rest shouting at me to run.

I stand my ground. Sure, Thomas looks extremely intimidating running at me at full speed, but I know he wouldn't do anything stupid, or harm me in any way… hopefully.

He reaches me with his pursuers only a few feet behind.

"Hello, Thomas." I say coldly.

"Anna." He replies with a nod

The crew finally reaches us and most of them grab hold of Thomas pulling him back towards the edge of the ship.

I watch silently as they manage, at last, to throw him back into the sea.

I slowly walk to the side of the ship and look over at Thomas, who isn't moving or saying a thing. He just stares back at me, his eyes almost apologetic.

I brush off the feeling of pity that starts rising in me and turn away.

I don't know what he wanted with me and I am, strangely, not at all interested with what he had to say. He had abandoned both me and Greaves over his ego. He isn't worth my attention.

I look up to see Jack and Will casually leaning against the mast, both trying desperately to hide their grins.

I don't say anything but quickly return below deck to my room.

I lay down on my cot, determined to get some rest after all that has happened over the past few days.

I jump right back up after a few moments. I can't take this! I can't just sit in my room and pretend that nothing is wrong. As much as I want to believe that Thomas means nothing to me, I can't ignore the fact that it is painful that he wasn't willing to sacrifice his pride for me. What is it with men and their pride? I have yet to meet one who places others above himself and his need for respect. Then again, this is the first time that a man's craving for respect has hit me so hard. Why?

I collapse back on the bed, tears filling my eyes and one by one running down my cheeks.

I know why. It is so hard to admit this but, I think I've fallen in love with Thomas Calder.

Just thinking of it makes me hurt all the more.

Have I gone absolutely insane? Everyone I both know and respect would be either angry or disappointed in me for choosing to give my heart to a pirate. Father would never give me his blessing, Elizabeth would forever be trying to persuade me to forget Thomas, Mrs. Pirren would most likely try to never speak to me again, and… no, that is pretty much all the people that I truly respect.

And he doesn't love, or even respects, me back. To him, I am only a young girl who has yet to learn the ways of the real world. Ironically enough, his rejection of me has taught me more than living in Tortuga ever could.

The world is a cruel place where feelings have to place, where emotions are squashed like insects, and where people cannot expect to find a happy ending.

I hit my fist against the hard cot, my anger suddenly turned against it.

Why would I ever even think that I would get the same happy life that Father and Mother had up until she passed away? Even Elizabeth is set for an unhappy life, married to someone she doesn't love.

Suddenly, I am jolted from my thoughts by a sound. I jump to my feet and listen for it again.

Scratch. Scratch.

I jump onto the bed and look around the room, expecting to see a rat or two scurry across the wooden floor.

Hearing the scratching sound for a third time, I realize that it is coming from the wall. I press my year against it, confirming that whatever is making the sound is on the other side of the wall.

I leap down from the bed and, walking through the hallway, find the next door. Opening it, I find that I am in the doctor's chambers.

On one wall are two cupboards, which, upon inspection, are filled with blankets, cloth for wrapping up wounds, tourniquets and bowls and jars filled with different types of roots and leaves.

Beside the cupboards is a desk covered in various kinds of tools: Pincers, gags, various knives, a couple saws…

I shiver thinking of the all the blood, pain, and death that must have at one point filled rooms such as this one.

In the middle of the room is a lone, large table, obviously meant for performing surgeries.

I quickly walk past it, and a couple cots, to the single door on the other side of the room.

I open it, finding myself in a smaller room, this one only holding two cots. The first is empty, the sheets pristine white and perfectly clean. I stare at it, slightly confused as to the quality and cleanness of it. Wasn't this ship a pirate ship? Then I remember that the ship was the Interceptor, owned by the government and never used.

I turn to the second, slightly shocked to see someone in it, unsure of whether or not I should leave, or see if they need anything.

"Anna?" A raspy voice says from the cot, "Is that you?"

I relax. It's Greaves.

"Hello, old man." I tell him, sitting on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. The doctor on board gave me some king of plant that makes me want to sleep, which really helps."

I give Greaves a small smile. It is clear to see that he is in pain, yet he is still trying to act tough and strong.

"So, do you think you'll be up and shouting in the next couple of days?" I ask.

Greaves chuckles, "It might be a little longer than that. The plant you gave me in Tortuga only helped with the fever. There is something else in here, "He shifts onto his side and pats his chest. "That just won't go away. It is almost like a large rock pressing against my lungs, making it hard to breathe."

"What did the doctor say?"

"He will go to the market at the next few ports and get anything that we haven't tried yet." Seeing my anxious expression, he adds, "I am certain that we'll find something. The doctor says that he has treated this before but just doesn't remember what plant he used last time. That is what I am worried about: being experimented on. I don't particularly like feeling like a vegetable, only useful for stuffing things down his throat."

I let out a small chuckle. "I can't wait for you to be better. It has gotten slightly boring not having anyone to argue with."

Greaves starts to smile, but quickly reverts back to his frowning with a grunt of pain.

I cringe along with him, not even trying to imagine how much he must be suffering.

"Do you want me to get the doctor?" I ask

"No, no." He replies, shaking his head, "No need to disturb the doctor. He just went to bed."

"Bed?" I ask, "What time is it?"

Greaves shrugs his shoulders, "The doctor said that it was 19:30. He left around twenty minutes ago, so it must be close to 20:00 now."

My eyes widen. This day has gone by so quickly and I feel as if I haven't accomplished anything. At least in Port Royal, I would have a stitching mastered, a book read, Latin terminology memorized, or a dance step completed. Out here in the world, if you are still alive by the end of the day, you are doing well.

"Were you the one scratching against the wall?" I ask remembering what had initially brought me here.

"Yes." Greaves replies.

"Why"

"I couldn't rest with you pacing loudly, and getting on and off that creaky bed. I was hoping to either scare you into silence or make you curious enough to exit your room"

I turn slightly red from embarrassment.

"I know how you could make it up to me." Greaves says with a sly grin.

I return the smile, "What?"

"You could get me some rum." Greaves answers.

I jump up, thankful to have something to do. I briskly walk through the larger room and out of the door. I start making my way down the hallway leading away from my chamber, opening every door I encounter, trying to find the cellar.

I, unfortunately, meet some strange situations through the doors. In one, I find an older man, completely drunk, singing a love ballad to a bookend. In another, a man is trying to count the number of hooks in a wall, but ends up sprawled on the floor, having had too much to drink.

"Are all pirates constantly drunk?" I ask myself out loud.

"Absolutely." A voice suddenly hisses, right by my ear.

I yelp and jump around, swinging my fist. Unfortunately, my clenched hand makes contact with the man's face before I realize that it is Jack.

I jump back, shocked, "I am so sorry," I gasp.

Surprisingly, Jack doesn't double over in pain, or even rub his cheek which will most certainly bruise and turn purple. "It's all right," He replies with the slur that marks every drunken man's speech. "I was just looking for more rum."

I smile, thankful to finally have a guide and to at last be reprieved of seeing anymore strange occurrences behind the doors.

"So you know where the cellar is?" I ask hopefully.

"Right this way!" Jack replies, swaggering down the hall.

I step up my pace to keep up and soon Jack stops in front of a door, exactly the same as all the others we passed.

How do they remember where everything is?

He opens the door and starts going down a few steps.

I follow him into the darkness, feeling my way by trailing my hands against the cool wooden walls.

Jack suddenly stops and I almost run into him.

He doesn't say a thing or move but a light starts to shine.

Jack holds up a lighted lamp and continues on his way.

The light reveals a large room, crowded by occupied hammocks. The men sleeping in them are grossly dirty and many of the shirtless ones reveal strange markings and scars. I spur Jack on anxious to get out of the room, that smelled strangely of blood and urine.

Jack finally stops in front of another door which, after taking down a ring of keys, he proceeds to unlock and open.

We yet again meet another small staircase and finally find ourselves in a cellar, filled to the brim with bottles upon bottles of some sort of drink. Most likely rum.

Jack looks through a few of the them before selecting a large black bottle.

I start riffling through a few trying to determine the differences between them.

I look up to pull my hair back, and find Jack staring intently at me.

"What?" I question.

"Nothing." Jack replies, "Just proud that you are finally letting some of that pirate blood fuel some of your decisions."

I roll my eyes, "Firstly, what pirate blood? And secondly, this is for Greaves, not me."

Jack's head droops, "Too bad. We would have had a dandy time, me, you, and the rum."

I turn back to the pile of bottles, "Just help me pick a bottle."

I hear Jack sigh, but he leans down beside me and quickly picks out a bottle.

I grab it and we both head back to the main hallway.

Once back in relatively clean territory, uncrowded by half naked stinking men, I feel more comfortable.

I thank Jack and we part, him to wherever, and me back to the doctor's quarters.

Back at Greaves' bedside, I see that he is asleep and place the rum bottle gently on the floor by his cot before exiting the doctor's chambers.

Standing in the middle of the long, empty hallway, I start feeling utterly lonely and my mind involuntarily drifts back to Thomas.

At least if he was here, I wouldn't be so lonely. Even with all these sailors on board, I still feel as if I am on my own.

Suddenly, it hits me. I am the only woman on board. I am the only female in a ship load of men. Father would absolutely pass out.

I chuckle internally. Even with all my fantasies of being a pirate captain and sailing the seas, I never realized that I would be in such a strange situation.

I just hope that all these sailors are halfway decent.

The ship suddenly lurches sending me crashing into a wall. I feel bile rise up within me, reminding me of the sea sickness I had on the tiny rowboat only a few days ago.

Suddenly, I have a sudden need for fresh air. I dart back towards my room, past my door, up the steps, and back on the sea sprayed air of the deck. I jump to the side of the boat and lean over, waiting for my insides to gush out.

After a few deep breathes of the chilly salty wind, I relax. The sky is darker than usual and the gale of wind is strong. Thunder rumbles in the distance and I tell myself not stay up here long due to the impending storm.

"Are you all right?" Will asks, suddenly appearing beside me.

I nod. "What are you doing up here? Shouldn't you be down below, resting?"

"I could ask the same about you but your face is utterly green so I don't really have to." After a few moments of silence, he continues, "I couldn't sleep. I keep thinking of Elizabeth. Where she is. What she is doing. What she is thinking. And the fact we might never find her."

"Don't say that." I scold, "We will find her. We have to."

Will only sighs, as if thinking of Elizabeth has completely exhausted him.

"I admit," I say, "with everything going on with Greaves, it has been hard to remember why we are all here in the first place. Then I feel guilty for not thinking of Elizabeth all day, every day. But how can I? Greaves is really sick."

"I know." Will agrees, "I would have thought that when something as large as Elizabeth being missing, happens, the smaller stuff gets left behind. That we would all be able to put our differences aside and work together."

I turn to face him, "But we are. You are a blacksmith, I am the spoiled daughter of a governor, and the rest of the people here are all pirates with such different stories. And yet, we are pulling together, with, of course, the exception of you and Thomas. By the way, I have been meaning to ask. Why didn't you tell the crew that Thomas was one of us? Not that I really care that he was thrown into the sea."

Will lets a small smile slip, "Um, well, I forgot, fort- unfortunately."

I roll my eyes and shove him to the side, sending him stumbling to the side just as the boat pitches forward.

I let out a laugh as Will falls to the ground trying again and again, unsuccessfully, due to the sudden rough waters, to get back to his feet.

My laughter, however, stops as I lose my hold on the railing and am thrown as well, to the floor.

Now, it's Will's turn to laugh.

When the waters calm down enough, we both get back to our feet, cringing in pain from all the bruises we've received having been thrown around.

"I think I should go lie down." I say over the screeching of the wind that has suddenly picked up.

Saying a quick goodnight, I retreat back below decks.

Entering my room, I find that the small cot, that I had been angry with earlier, looks incredibly inviting. I let myself fall onto it, my body not even caring that it is as hard as a slab of rock.

I turn my head towards the small round window on the far wall. Through it, almost nothing can be scene other than the harsh rain beating down upon the glass. Lightning flashes and thunder rumbles.

I watch through the window at the storm, debating whether or not I could actually sleep with all the sound.

Lighting flashes again, and I jump up.

Was that a face I saw through the window? I ask myself, my heart beat racing.

I cautiously get to my feet and carefully start walking towards the window. Lighting flashes again and I can distinctly see a face on the other side.

Out there in the fierce storm, someone is hanging on for dear life.