XIX.

The sun had reached its zenith, and Billy began to wonder if he will live to see the sunset. The pressure on his chest was making it more and more difficult to fill his lungs. When he did manage to get a decent breath in, the heavy, humid air seemed to weigh his body down even more. He was vaguely aware that he was no longer covered in sweat. Was that a good or a bad sign? He couldn't remember. His head was throbbing, the lancing pain at his temples keeping time with the rapid beating of his heart.

He had never envisioned his life ending like this, but he knew now that his fate was sealed. Even if the crew held out some hope that he had survived, they would never think to look for him on a godforsaken beach on the far side of Harbour Island. Moreover, Flint would never allow his men to be distracted by a rescue mission.

Flint. What the hell had happened the night of the storm?

Billy turned his head, allowing one side of his sunburned face a moment's reprieve from the bright light. He had pictured in his mind over and over the last minutes he had spent on the Walrus, feverishly working with Flint to save the fallen section of the mast. Even now, he could not say whether he had slipped or had been pushed. In any event, it no longer mattered. His real enemy had been the one he had faced since the moment he had washed up here on the beach.

He allowed his cheek to rest against the sand for a moment, trying to think of anything else than the hours that lay ahead of him before he drew his last breath. His mind wandered to his parents. The thought of them never knowing what had happened to him pained him, but at least they would be spared the details of his death. He had assumed they had given him up for dead a long time ago. When Meg had told him otherwise, his first reaction had been one of astonishment-and then a sort of bittersweet joy. The knowledge that someone far from here still remembered-and loved-the person he had been before he had become Billy Bones touched his heart-all the more so since he knew he could never go home again.

Perhaps that is why Flint has maintained his relationship with the Barlow woman...perhaps she is one of the few people who knows who he really is. God knows no one else does.

Then there was Meg. He thought of the few stolen moments they had had together, and felt his body begin to stir in response. He swallowed, and resisted the temptation to try his ropes one more time. His vision of Meg's lithe, willing body evaporated as a large fly buzzed lazily around his face, then settled on the gash under his eye that was still oozing blood. He shook his head, causing it to hang on tenaciously for a moment, then reluctantly retreat.

"You know he's not coming for you."

Billy recognized the gravelly, matter-of-fact voice in an instant, and his hands reflexively curled into fists.

"Fuck off," he growled, his own voice now a harsh rasp. Squinting up into the sunlight, he saw Charles Vane gazing down at him, his expression inscrutable.

Vane squatted down next to him, his cool blue eyes surveying Billy's bonds . "Seems to me that you're not in a much of a position to be telling me what to do."

Billy closed his eyes.

Vane grunted. "Loyalty is admirable, but blind loyalty is just damn stupid. If you want to die here on the beach roasting like a fuckin' sheep, be my guest. But it I remember correctly, you and I share a common enemy. If you want to live to fight to exterminate him and the rest of the goddamn British forces that are threatening to crawl all over Nassau, then I suggest you take a different approach."

When the tall boatswain remained silent. Vane regarded him for a moment, then took out his dagger, slicing through the bonds that held Billy's left wrist in place. "I free you, and we work together to eliminate a common threat. Unless, of course, you prefer your current situation."

A bitter laugh escaped Billy's lips, and he began to cough. An instant later, a strangled cry was heard from a few feet away.

Vane glanced over his shoulder, then turned back to Billy. "Well, even if you don't give a fuck about your own life, someone else apparently does."

The boatswain's eyes slowly opened, and he caught a flutter of rose-colored silk in his peripheral vision. Craning his neck, he saw Meg start forward towards him. Anne's hand shot to her dagger, but Jack stepped forward. He shook his head slightly at Anne, and put a gentle hand on Meg's arm.

"Meg," Billy whispered. "But I thought-"

Vane stood up, strolled around Billy's head, and cut his other wrist loose. "It was fortunate we found her when we did. The soldiers escorting her had, shall we say, less than honorable intentions."

Billy stared up at him. "And your intentions regarding her?"

"She is in my custody for now," replied Vane casually. "For her own safety, or course."

"Charles, we haven't much time," called Jack, nervously scanning the edges of the beach.

Vane gave him a curt nod, then turned his attention back to Billy. "So, are you with us, or not?"

Billy glanced back at Meg one more time, and saw the pleading look in her eyes.

"Yes."

Vane smirked. "I thought you'd see reason."

A few moments later, his legs were freed, and he struggled to sit up. An instant later, a bullet whizzed over his head.

"Fuck!" Vane hauled Billy to a sitting position, then dragged him over to the tent. With a mighty shove, he turned the table over on its side, providing cover for both of them.

He knew without looking that Jack and Anne would have the good sense to get Meg to a safe position, then seek out the threat. A gunshot from behind him confirmed his instincts.

"Give me a weapon!" gasped Billy, reaching for one of the table legs to support himself. "I don't plan to be taken prisoner again, and I'm sure as hell not dying on this beach."

Vane reached for one of his pistols, and tossed it to Billy. "Don't take a shot unless you know you can make it."

Heat rushed into Billy's pale face, and he growled, "I'm one of Flint's men. I know how to fight." Peering cautiously around their makeshift shelter, he murmured, "Sniper on the low bluff above us. I can take him."

Vane sat back, resting his pistol against his knee. "No need."

Billy's head jerked up. "Beg your pardon?"

A scream was heard from above them. A soldier, his red coat streaked with blood, plummeted to the sand not fifteen feet from them, then lay still.

Vane grinned. "That was Jack."

A loud report came from the far end of the beach, followed by a brief clang of swords, than silence.

"And that was Anne." Vane shoved his pistol back in his belt, and prepared to stand up.

"Wait a minute!" Billy grabbed his arm. "You mean to tell me that Jack Rackham and Anne Bonny just single handedly cleared this beach?"

Vane laughed quietly. "There are few situations where Jack and Anne can't get the job done." Getting to his feet, he extended a hand to Billy. "Come on. Let's get the fuck out of here."

As they made their way off the beach and onto a narrow path that snaked through the dense vegetation, Billy found walking that a few steps was more taxing than he could have possibly imagined.

How could I have become so weak in just a few days?

Even though his arms were looped around Vane and Jack's shoulders, he had to lean on them heavily for support.

"Bastards didn't give you anything to eat or drink, did they?" muttered Vane.

"Hospitality wasn't their strong suit," said Billy, his voice hoarse with fatigue.

Jack glanced at him, his brow furrowed with concern. "We can stop for a moment and let you rest."

Billy set his jaw. "No-not yet. I want to put as much distance between myself and the Royal Navy as possible."

His weakened state took a toll on him, however. Twenty minutes later, he started to feel lightheaded, then began to stagger, falling against Jack.

"Hang on, big boy." Jack's thin, wiry frame struggled against the added weight of the boatswain.

The ground seemed to sway underneath him, and Billy felt an intense wave of nausea. Falling to his knees, he closed his eyes, willing himself not to vomit. Voices coalesced around him, the words and tones merging into a cacophony of distorted sound that left him clutching his pounding head. Then hands began to grab at him, and sheer panic filled his entire body.

I'll die before I let them restrain me again.

He began to struggle in earnest, then felt a jolt of pain as a blow hit him square in the jaw. He hit the ground flat on his back, and lay there, stunned, as rain began to fall.

Meg was beside herself with worry. The roar of the waterfall had receded to a distant murmur inside the cave where they had taken refuge. The darkness and quiet were unsettling, as was the hostile presence of Anne Bonny.

"Enough with the fuckin' pacing! Sit down."

Meg swallowed, and did as she was told. Anne sat across from her, back against a large, flat rock. A candle stub flickered in a nearby alcove. It threw a shadow over much of the pirate's face, making her appear even more sinister.

"I'm worried about Billy," Meg blurted out, then bit her lip, realizing how pathetic she sounded.

Anne's lip curled up in a sneer. "Yeah? Afraid Flint's boy won't show up to protect you from the big, bad Ranger crew?"

Meg fought back the tears of frustration that threatened to spill down her cheeks. "I'm afraid he'll die," she said, her voice wavering for an instant. "Before I have a chance to explain."

"Explain what you were doin' two-timin' him with fuckin' Tobias Nelson?"

"You know nothing of my life," Meg said, doing her best to keep her voice low and controlled. "I do not sit in judgement of you, and I'd ask you to extend me the same courtesy."

Anne narrowed her eyes. "What game are you playin'? A fine, civilized lady like yourself don't let a pirate bed her... even if he does have a body like Billy Bones."

"I am not his mistress!" Meg snapped, then flushed as she recalled her last moments with Billy on the ship.

Anne smirked. "I see. Keepin' yourself pure for the gentleman, eh?"

The sound of footsteps caused them both to jump to their feet. When Vane and Jack rounded the corner, half-dragging, half-carrying an unconscious Billy, Meg had to stifle a cry as she ran to them.

"Lay him down here!" Her voice was urgent as her hands felt for a pulse at Billy's neck. It was there, but fast and thready. "What happened?"

"I think his body has been pushed to the limit," murmured Jack, wiping his brow.

Vane nodded. "No food, no water-lying out in the sun for days. Only time will tell if he will snap out of it."

Meg laid her palm on Billy's forehead, starting when she felt how hot his skin was. Her throat tightened. "He's burning up. We need to cool him down-quickly!" She looked up at Vane. "Can you get some cold water?"

"There's a spring just around the bend ahead. Best thing is to carry him there." He glanced at Jack. "Ready?"

"I'll help." Anne slid next to Jack, and helped them lift Billy. Meg snatched up the candle, and kept pace with them as they moved along the tunnel. After what seemed like an eternity, she heard the bubbling of water.

"Over there." Vane nodded at a clear space near the small stream.

They laid him down, and Meg was at his side in an instant. She scooped some water up in her hands, and poured it over Billy's head. His breath hitched, and then he lay still once again. Reaching for her skirts, she tore off a piece of cotton chemise, then dipped it in the cold water. Placing it on Billy's forehead, she began to gently cleanse the dirt and sand from his face.

She had nearly finished when he opened his eyes. Billy stared at her for a moment, his pupils dilating. "Meg," he said hoarsely.

Her heart stopped for an instant, and she reached for his hand. "I'm here," she whispered, fighting the urge to press her lips to his.

He shook his head, closing his eyes."I thought I'd never see you again." Taking in a breath, he winced. "I want you to know... I don't blame you for leaving. You can be a proper lady living with Nelson-have the life you deserve. If you had stayed with me, you would have been branded as the consort to a monster."

"Don't talk like that!" She took his face in her hands, willing them to remain steady. "You are a good man, Billy. Someday, you will have a normal life again. I promise."

He choked back a bitter laugh. "Even if I wanted to return to civilization, what would be waiting for me? A date with the noose? In the eyes of the Crown, I am nothing more than an animal. You were wise to leave when you had the chance. I just regret taking advantage of your vulnerability that last night on the Walrus. It was wrong."

"Billy, I wanted you to touch me," Meg whispered. She dipped her index finger into the cool water, then trailed it slowly across his cracked lips. "And it did not feel wrong...not at all. So perhaps what you need to realize is that you can give me things that Tobias never can."

"A very touching performance," came a cold, measured voice from behind her. "One might almost think that you meant it."

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