Wrong Kind of Paradise (21 page)

another colossal wave. He slipped backward, bumping into Blac and released the line. It snaked

dangerously across the deck. Just as Blac reached it, the vessel plummeted down the twenty foot drop and

the cord swished passed him. The wind picked it up and flung it about. The weapon-like cable snapped,

clipping Rigo’s cheek. The Spaniard gasped and doubled over, clapping a hand over the wound.

Alarmed, Blac bounded across the deck and caught the offending rope. He swung to and fro until he

slammed against the mizzenmast. He reached up and rubbed the lump forming on the back of his head.

Catching his breath, he scuttled to tie down the line.

Rigo clasped him on the shoulder with his free hand. Blood oozed from between his fingers and

rainwater washed it down his forearm in a red river. “She’s feisty, eh? I haven’t seen a storm like this in

years.” Red liquid trickled down his cheek and dripped from his chin.

“Aye, this is one hell of a storm. We’re coming out of its center. Go see to that wound before it

really gets worse, mate.” Blac headed back to the quarterdeck. Rain slanted across the decks but

something caught his eye.

“What the hell is that?” he said.

Rigo peered past him. “What?”

The wind shifted, parting the downpour and allowed just a brief glimpse into the distance.

Something white skittered across the horizon. He squinted. “Is that a ship?”

He held his breath, concentrating. Seconds later, something white appeared, caught in the wind. It

tumbled end over end toward them.
What the hell
?

Surprised, his heart skittered to a stop and he realized what it was. The top section of a mast hurtled

through the air toward him. He leapt to the left but the impact sent him flying backward. He hit the deck

with enough force the breath was knocked out of him. Just before blackness took over, he realized he was

pinned beneath the section of broken mast and the intact main mast of his own ship.

Where the hell had the mast come from?

~*~

Blac!

Angel faltered and screamed. Max stumbled up the steps and reached for the wheel. Saltwater

streamed from his mouth and nose. He nodded. “Go to him, lass. I’ll take the wheel.”

Angel needed no other encouragement. She ducked beneath the rope and raced for the stairs. A

wave caught her feet and they slid right out from underneath her. She rushed back up and made it to Blac.

Her heartbeat thudded against her ribs as she knelt.
Please let him live.

Bruno appeared at her side, and together the three of them lifted the broken mast off Blac’s almost

lifeless form. Had she not actually seen the rise and fall of his chest, she could’ve sworn he lay there

dead.

Relief whooshed out of her chest on a heavy sigh and tears scalded her eyes. Rigo checked him,

making sure there were no broken bones, and then Bruno bent and lifted him on one shoulder.

“I’ll get Raphael. He can look him over,” Rigo said.

Angel frowned as rain pelted her features. “Isn’t he the carpenter?”

“
Si
, but he is also the ship’s doctor.”

She nodded.

Rigo’s jaw dropped open in a mask of utter shock and Angel’s breathing stalled.

“What? What is it?” Rigo grasped her upper arms and turned her about.

A massive Frigate sailed out of the rain, her bow bearing down on them like the Flying Dutchman.

Angel’s heart slammed against her ribs and stuck there.

The ship was crippled badly by her single broken mast and she floundered under the heavy force of

the wind. She tilted on her axis severely. Angel watched, horrified, as a member of the Frigate’s crew

washed overboard right before her eyes. A hand prevented her gasp from escaping. “She’s going to ram

right into us,” Angel shrieked.

Panic almost overtook her until Rigo shook her. “Control yourself, Angel, if you’re going to be a

member of this crew and help Blac when he needs it the most, now is the time to assume command. If

you’re not going to help, then get below.”

Angel snapped her mouth shut. He was right. Now was not the time to panic. She had to help get

them out of this.

The Frigate headed toward their starboard side. With the storm, they couldn’t outrun her. Not with

all sails trimmed and the waves continued to push her closer to them. If they turned portside, there was a

chance they couldn’t get out of the way fast enough, sailing against the waves. And if the Frigate hit them

mid-ship, she’d split them in two. If they turned starboard they could run parallel with her bow to stern.

Yet, turning starboard could capsize them if they turned with the waves.

It would also open their broadside.

The wind increased to a howling frenzy and the sky bottomed out. Rain and hail pelted the decks

like a thousand daggers pinging against the rigging. Angel headed to the helm. A wave pushed her into the

stairs and she caught herself before she lost her footing. The Frigate almost doubled the Brigs size. She

would crush the Revenge.

Max struggled to hold the wheel into the waves. Angel pushed him out of the way. “Don’t fight it.

Let the waves turn us into the Frigate.”

“What?” Max shouted. “Bloody hell! Have ye gone daft, child?”

“No,” she replied. “Trust me, Max. Let the wave turn us toward the Frigate.”

“We’ll capsize, girl!”

Angel pushed against his chest. “Just do it! It’s a direct order from your captain.”

Max let go of the wheel and stepped back. The wheel spun to the right. The wave caught the ship

and hauled her starboard side. She teetered on the wave’s tip and long seconds passed before movement

resumed.

Angel lashed herself to the rail and hoped she was right on this one. She braced herself. The wind

caught hold of the mast and pushed her sideways.

Max lashed himself to the rail and began to pray. “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy

name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done.”

They plummeted. Angel closed her eyes.

If ever there is a God, please listen to me now. Please don’t let us capsize. Let us live.

The rumble of the storm rose in volume. They slid sideways down the wave, the Revenge’s masts

pointed directly into the sea. The foremast collapsed under the pressure and the resounding split rang in

her ears.

She crumbled to the deck as gravity took hold and slid, the lashing catching her just before her feet

left the deck. They sat on the ship’s side at a ninety degree angle. The wave pushed them right passed the

Frigate. Now she just had to keep them from capsizing.

The wheel spun so fast she couldn’t grab it. It would break her arm should she try.

Max called her name and she turned to him. Rain slashed at her face and she gulped gallons of

water. He handed her a belaying pin and she jammed it into the wheel. It immediately came to a stop with

a loud crack.

Pulling herself closer to the wheel, she managed to whip it in the opposite direction. She grunted

under the weight. Another wave hauled the ship upright, and she scaled its height once again.

Back on her feet, Angel manned the helm with Max at her back. “Blimey you’re as off kilter as your

father, lass.”

“Aye, it runs in the family.”

“That it does.”

Bow to stern now, Angel whipped around to find the Frigate. “Where the hell did that ship come

from?” she shouted above the wind.

“The hell if I know.”

As if in response to her question, the Frigate’s battery of cannons exploded and the ball missed the

railing by less than two feet.

“Blow me down, did she jist fire on us?” Max’s voice carried to her.

The sixteen gun Brig wasn’t equipped to take on a Frigate. They would have to get out of her range.

Blac mounted the stairs shaking his head, his wet shirt plastered to his powerful shoulders and

chest. “Turn her about Mr. Briggs. Let’s show her a good time.”

“Ye’ canna be serious, Cap’n. She’s got double our guns and crew. There’s no way we can engage

and win. We should outrun—”

Had Blac gone crazy?

“I gave a direct order, Mr. Briggs. Besides, she’s been following us for two days. I mean to have a

conversation with her captain and find out why.”

They rode the waves until they could safely come about without fear of capsizing. They had the

advantage of a quicker ship and more maneuverability. The Frigate had made little progress in her turn-

about, and the Serpent’s Revenge was already in pursuit.

The rain ceased to all but a steady drizzle. Though the wind continued to gust and launch objects

like projectiles.

“Captain, I must protest. We canna’ win against a Frigate, not in a direct one on one battle.”

“Then we’ll simply have to outmaneuver them and out-strategize them.” Blac took the wheel from

Angel and kissed her lips. “Now I want you below and I don’t want any back talk. I will not stand up here

worried about you when I must fight a storm and a Frigate. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”Angel didn’t argue. She must trust in Blac to get them out of this. He would need all his wits

about him, and Angel suddenly realized that she did just that: she trusted Blac implicitly. “I won’t give

you any trouble.”

He looked at her as if she’d grown horns. She smiled at his expression. “Do not be so surprised. I

know your experience far outweighs mine.” She paused before landing a solid kiss on his lips. “I’m glad

you’re safe, Blac. Don’t ever scare me that again or I’ll kill you myself.”

~*~

The two ships encircled each other. Broadsides bared.

The Frigate was already seriously crippled. The main mast hung by its lines and the foremast had

completely broken off. In fact, Blac’s crew members had just tossed the damn thing over board.

“Bring out the storm sails, run out the guns, and give me some drag, Mr. Santiago.”

The crew ran out the Serpent’s twenty nine-pounder demi-culverins and knocked the wedges out

from under the wheels. The chief gunner called out orders and handed out the glowing linstocks.

“I want to ride the height of these waves and fire down on the target, Mr. Santiago. Make it

happen.” Blac lashed himself to the helm and said, “Cripple her rudder.”

At the height of the first wave, the roar of the larboard guns reverberated through the masts and the

planks under his feet shook with the force. The first round of shots fell short and by the third, the Frigate’s

quarter-deck rail shattered.

It took several tries for the crew to get in sync with the waves but eventually, every time the Serpent

topped a breaker, the demi-culverines would launch its ball shot.

The return fire cracked the crow’s nest and sent one of Blac’s crew plunging into the depths of the

ocean with a yell. Slivers of wood scattered across the deck and several howls of pain rent the air.

Black, acrid smoke decreased vision by half, and the second cannonball plunged through it,

swirling the black cloud just before it collided solidly with one of his crew, decapitating him. Another

smashed the bulkhead straight into the hull. Fire sparked and the crewman rushed to put it out.

“Reload those goddamned guns!” Blac shouted. “Take out that rudder, damn it. I want them crippled

and begging.”

The five-man gunner crew first used the rammer to clean out any debris and dropped the powder in

before they added the wadding, packing it in. Once that was done, they would swab the barrel and drop in

the shot.

“Fire at will,” the chief gunner commanded.

The glowing end of the linstock was applied to the primer. A deafening boom resounded through the

ship. Three rounds later, the Frigate’s rudder exploded into fragments and particles of the ship’s hull

floated on the surface of the water.

An eerie silence ensued when the wind died down abruptly. The only sounds were the crash of

waves over the ship’s banister and the unremitting thump of his heart. Blac’s breath rushed through his

lungs and sounded harsh in the stillness. He glanced up and the clouds churned in a circular motion above

them, and he realized, albeit too late, they were in the center of the storm.

Thunder rumbled in a low growl and shook the deck. “We’re in for a nice ride, Santiago. Bring us

down to bare poles, sir. See if we can’t find a way to get more drag, otherwise we’re going to drift right

into her.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n,” Rigo replied and bellied out the orders. He turned back. “We can toss some full

barrels overboard, Cap’n”

“The rum?”

Rigo shrugged. “You have another idea?”

Blac frowned, then nodded. “Aye, use the rum.”

A pained howl rent the air. “Nay, don’t use the rum. Not the rum!” Max tripped over his own feet

trying to get to them, and the ship tilted, causing him to slide across the deck. He caught himself and stood.

“Nay, ye can’t ditch the rum, what’s the point in survivin’ a gale without ‘he rum?”

Full barrels of rum were attached to the ship by a rope and tossed overboard. Blac turned back to

the helm. Now that the Frigate was stranded in the water, she ran up her white flag. She would be unable