The Pirate Raiders (4 page)

  “Be right there!” I shouted back to him.  Andy had just rammed a ball down the barrel of his pistol when I grabbed his arm.  He looked up at me, wide-eyed with fear etched all over his dirty face.  “Andy, have you ever shot a man?”

He said nothing, but shook his head side to side. 

Wonderful
, I thought.  It was starting to make sense why Captain Trimble marooned the pathetic lad. 

I poked my head out the door to get a quick glance of the redcoats chasing us.  Two horses were side by side and only a few feet behind us.  They were certainly capable of pulling alongside us; however, the unknown plotting that was going on inside the carriage seemed to encourage a cautious pursuit for the moment.  The blunderbuss Gordon had used to dispose of one of their fellow soldiers was obviously still fresh on their minds as well.  One of them spotted me peeking and began to shout furious curses at me. I was unable to resist the urge to quickly stick my tongue out at him in reply.  I didn’t wait for a response and pulled my head back in to safety.  Andy stared at me, awaiting instructions.

  “Andy, all I need you to do is follow me to the roof of the carriage.  I don’t really care how you do it.  You’ve got a pistol, use the shot wisely,” I said.  He stared at me, obviously unsure if he was up to the task.  “Please, Andy,” I pleaded.  “We have to get to the roof if we’re going to escape tonight.”

He seemed to straighten up a bit, and nodded.  The weight of the situation was apparently sinking in.  He could either do what I said, or he was going to die. 

I moved toward the door again, but paused as an idea came to mind.  I looked over at Andy, and then down at his feet. 

  “What?” he asked fearfully.

  “Give me one of your shoes,” I replied. 

He squinted at me, opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it.  He then reached down and handed me his right shoe without further hesitation.  I took the shoe by the toe and slowly thrust it out the door.

As expected, a loud explosion was heard and the shoe jerked out of my grasp when the shot hit it. 

  “There, I just made them waste one shot,” I shouted as I darted out the door.  “Please move quickly!”  I grabbed the side rail and frantically pulled and clawed my way to the roof of the carriage.  Another thunderous blast rang out.  The proximity of the sound immediately told me it originated from Andy.  I took a quick glance to the rear of the carriage and saw another red coat rolling across High Street.  I allowed myself a brief smile, and then pulled my own pistol out.  I planned on disposing of the remaining soldier, but unfortunately he wasn’t in my line of sight.  Andy’s hand slapped at the roof, he was trying to find something to grab on to.  I returned the pistol to its holster and grabbed the far side of the carriage with my right hand.  I grabbed Andy’s hand with my left and pulled him up with all the strength I could muster.  He was lighter than I anticipated, but my shoulder still burned with pain as I pulled.  He finally managed to get a leg up on to the roof and rolled on top of me.  Gordon still had the carriage moving at a fast pace, and it was obvious Andy had not taken the time to tighten his hat snugly on his head as I had done earlier.  The wind promptly blew the wide-brimmed hat off his head and I finally was able to see all of Andy’s face.  I have no idea for sure how my expression looked, but there was no doubt my jaw dropped open at what I saw.  Andy winced as the hat blew away. 

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I shouted. 

  “I’m sorry, but I just bloody met you!” Andy shouted back. 

  “Captain, will you please hurry the hell up!” Gordon shouted from the front seat.  “We’re going downhill and we’ve almost reached the cliffs!”

I shook my head in disbelief once more, and then glared at Andy again.  “I’ll deal with this later,” I barked.  “You stay down as low as you can right here.”

Andy said nothing but rolled off of me and laid as flat as humanly possible in response.  I crawled to the front of the carriage and slid down into the seat beside Gordon. 

  “There’s one more redcoat back there,” I said.  “Keep the horses headed straight and true.  I’ll take care of the harness.”

I hung my body off the front of the carriage and suddenly felt that I was in the most danger I’d been in the entire night.  I could literally feel the power of the horses in front of me as they kicked up dirt and other debris in my face as they galloped at full speed.  I hadn’t anticipated this, and it was hard enough to see in the dark without having dirt kicked in my face too.  I retrieved a knife from my belt and then carefully placed the hilt into my mouth.  I bit down hard to ensure I didn’t drop it and then began reaching frantically for the traces connecting the horse’s harnesses to the carriage.  My hand finally found the chains and I felt my way along the cool metal links until I felt the connecting leather straps.  I wasted no time slicing through the straps, which in turn released the horses.

  “Gordon, release the reigns!”

He did as I commanded.  The horses were apparently aware of their impending doom because they wasted no time veering off our current heading and disappeared into the darkness.  Now the only thing ahead of us was a few hundred feet of earth that ended abruptly with at least a five hundred foot drop into the Atlantic Ocean. 

I quickly climbed back into the seat and followed Gordon who was already pulling his body up on the roof.  Once we were both on the roof, Gordon glanced at Andy, did a double take, and then glanced at me. 

  “Who the bloody hell is this?” he shouted.

  “Andy Bonnet of course,” I answered.

  “Actually, my name is Andrea,” Andy corrected us.  “How do you do?” she asked nonchalantly, her long blonde hair flowing wildly in the wind.

The look of confusion on Gordon’s face no doubt matched my own, but this was no time to discuss the fact that Andy—Andrea, was in fact a woman.  I refocused my attention on the vast openness beyond the cliffs ahead.  The carriage seemed to be picking up speed as it progressed down the hill. 

  “Okay, this is it,” I yelled.  “As soon as the carriage goes off the cliff, jump off and get as far away from it as you can.  We don’t want this thing crashing on top of us and trapping us under the water.”

Gordon nodded as he knew what to expect, Andrea on the other hand had a look of complete terror wash over her dirty face.  

  “Are you sure about this?” she screamed.

  “No, of course not,” I answered. 

For a moment it seemed her fear subsided and was replaced by anger.  However, that moment was short lived as the prison carriage launched off the cliff like it had been fired from a twelve-pounder. 

The ground beneath us disappeared and was replaced immediately with a large canvas of ocean.  We managed to push our bodies away fro
m the falling block of iron on wheels, and the fall seemed to take minutes rather than seconds.  I must confess that I expected to hear Andrea screaming on the way down, and maybe she was, but I would’ve never been able to hear it over Gordon’s own high pitched wailing. 

I finally made contact with the water, feet first, and my body tore through the sea as smoothly as an arrow.  I plunged so far down I half expected my boots to hit the sandy bottom at any second.  When the sensation of earth under my feet never came, I made my way back to the surface in a much slower fashion than I’d experienced on the way down.  It was an eerie feeling, swimming in total blackness, and for a moment it occurred to me that there was no way to be certain if I was even swimming up or down.  I allowed my instincts to guide me and when I finally did burst through the wall of water and back into the cool night air, my attention immediately turned toward finding Gordon and Andrea.

  “Gordon!” I shouted.  “Andrea, are you there?”

I heard a gurgling, followed by an odd splashing sound.  I looked behind me just in time to see the rear corner of the prison carriage disappear beneath the calm waters. 

  “Sir,” I heard Andrea shout.  “Sir, I’m over here!”

I saw her treading water even further out than where I’d seen the carriage sink.  As I swam toward her I looked both directions for any sign of Gordon.  I didn’t see or hear any sign of him and just as I was beginning to worry I heard another voice that wasn’t Gordon’s, but it was a voice I knew well.

  “That was a hell of a ride Cap’n,” Langley called out from somewhere to my right.  My eyes finally adjusted enough to the darkness to make out the silhouette of a small rowboat drifting toward Andrea. 

  “Yes, it was quite fun actually,” I replied. 

Langley had come through for me, just as he always did.  Gordon doubted him, but I did not.  The thought brought on the realization that I still had not located Gordon.  I did my best to quell the spark of panic that was trying desperately to ignite.

  “Langley, have you seen Gordon?”

  “I’ve got him, Cap’n.  He’s a lucky swab, he is.  He was knocked out cold when I found him floating on the surface, probably popped his head on that carriage.”

I was somewhat alarmed at this news, but at the same time Langley’s tone didn’t sound very concerned.  This eased my mind a little as I swam to the boat.  Langley was pulling Andrea on board as I pulled myself on board behind him.  I crawled toward Gordon and quickly put my ear to his chest.  There was a heartbeat and his chest moved up and down…he was breathing.  I turned my attention to his head and I found a nice lump just above his right eyebrow at the hairline.  There was a small cut as well, but little blood to speak of.  Langley was right; he was indeed a lucky man tonight.

  “Langley, to the cave…quickly!”

  “Who are you gentlemen?” Andrea asked suddenly.

I turned to face her and figured now was as good a time as any to tell her. 

  “My dear, the man who is currently napping is Gordon Littleton.  Our rescuer there is Oliver Langley.  I am the notorious Captain Redd Reeves,” I said gleefully.

There was no mistaking her puzzled expression, even in the darkness.  “You’re who?” was the response.

I snorted and was unsure as to whether I should be offended or embarrassed. 

“You seriously have never heard of me?”

She shook her head.  “I’m sorry.”

I rolled my eyes; fully aware of the fact she’d be unable to see it.  “I suppose it doesn’t matter right now dear.  What does matter is this: were you or were you not recently among the crew of Captain Winston Trimble?”

There was a long silence and all that could be heard was the subtle splashing that resulted from Langley’s steady rowing.

  “Captain Trimble marooned me…left me for dead,” she said finally.  Her tone suggested that she was genuinely hurt by what Trimble had done to her.  I knew she was young, but I found it difficult to understand how she did not realize how incredibly lucky she was to have not suffered a worse fate at the hands of such a sadistic mad man. 

  “Andrea, marooning a man—or in your case a woman—is a terrible fate for any pirate.  But frankly I’m surprise Trimble let you off so easy.”

She said nothing in response.

  “What I’d really like to know,” I continued.  “Is how does a young lass like yourself end up on board a bloody pirate ship?  And not just any pirate ship…you wound up on the most feared pirate ship of the entire world.  Tell me, how does that happen dearie?”

I could hear her sniffling and it suddenly became apparent that the woman was crying.  I was taken aback; I didn’t know what to say.  How did a woman like Andrea become a pirate?  She clearly didn’t have the stomach for it. 

  “The way it happens,” she began through the sobs.  “The way it happened to me is…Captain Trimble is my father,” she said abruptly.  Andrea then planted her face in her hands and the tears flowed aplenty. 

Chapter 4
:

The sea seemed as much a part of Oliver Langley as his arms and legs.  He could guide a ship (or in this case a row boat) through the darkness with as much precision as he could through the brightest of days.  As strange as it sounds, the instincts that seemed to guide him were even sharper after he’d drank a few pints of rum.  It was hard for me to see anything in the moonless summer night, and all I could do was trust Langley to get us to our destination with enough haste to evade the inevitable swarm of red coats that would soon begin searching the water for survivors. 

I wondered if they would be smart enough to realize that our dangerous escape was all part of a well-executed plan.  Obviously, it was my hope that they would believe it was an escape plot that went terribly wrong.  There would no doubt be confusion early on, but I knew as soon as they examined the cut leather straps that had once connected the horses to the carriage, it would then become apparent that they were dealing with a daring escape plan instead of a foiled one. 

Time was critical.  Getting out of the water without a trace would be vital to our success.  There was one more player in our eventful night that was awaiting our arrival in a tiny, hidden cave just below the rocky cliff from which The Parrot’s Landing rested, overlooking the bay. 

The opening was barely large enough for the boat to slip through, but Langley guided the little vessel into the cave with ease on the first attempt.  After the boat travelled another thirty feet, the cave suddenly opened up into a much larger chamber.  The jagged ceiling was low, but the stone walls were spread wide and far apart.

A short and frail silver-haired man stood on a rocky ledge at the far end of the chamber.  He was holding a torch and watching us with a posture that suggested he was extremely tired.  Seeing him that way made me feel a pang of guilt.  The man had to be pushing seventy and here I was keeping him out of bed in the early morning hours of the night.

Tired as he was, John Copperton was exactly where he promised me he’d be when he, Gordon Littleton, Oliver Langley and I worked out our plan in a back room of The Parrot’s Landing a couple of hours earlier. 

John owned The Parrot’s Landing and although he had a good reputation among Port Royal’s government, he was secretly known to be an ally to pirates everywhere.  A trap door existed under a rug in the stock room of his establishment and underneath that door was a secret passageway that twisted and turned through the rocky earth and ended in the chamber we now found ourselves in.  John was reluctant to assist us with such a risky endeavor, but the man was practically family to me.  There was no way he could tell me no.  

Langley eased the boat back to its rightful place.  I briskly stepped out of the boat and onto the rocky ledge.  Langley tossed a coiled rope my way; I caught it and immediately tied the line around a large, rusty spike that had been driven into the stone ledge many, many years earlier. 

  “William, you’re going to be the death of me,” John said when I turned to face him.  I smiled at him.

John Copperton was probably the only man
besides Gordon that could call me William without me taking a swing at him.  The man had been the closest thing to a father figure I’d had since my real father was murdered when I was a young lad living in London. 

My father…
I hadn’t thought of my real flesh and blood father in years.  The revelation suddenly unleashed a flood of memories of the hellish childhood that molded me into the man I was today…

My mother died shortly after I was born.  Her death apparently affected my father in a pretty significant way because he began to drink heavily.  I’ve been told that prior to my mother’s untimely death he had a very decent job as a store clerk, but was fired because he was never sober enough to work. 

The combination of my mother’s death, loss of income, and booze completely changed my father’s outlook on life and eventually led him to a life of crime.  My father must have been a pretty successful thief because he and I never starved.  I remembered many occasions when my father would leave me home alone when I was as young as four.  He may have left me alone at a younger age than that but I have no way to know for sure since my memories do not go back that far. 

Ten years passed swiftly and it seemed that, as unusual and unorthodox as our life had become, my father and I were going to somehow make it through our hardships and live happily ever after. 

It wasn’t meant to be.

Unfortunately my father also developed a gambling problem that later led to a significantly large unpaid debt.   On a snowy Christmas Eve during the year 1699 there was a knock on the door.  My father was usually a very cautious man due to his line of work, but on this particular night he made no attempt to peek through a nearby window to see who was on the doorstep.  He opened the door without a care in the world and a man by the name of Charles Higgins promptly slit his throat with a barber’s razor before my father even had a chance to scream. 

He fell like a sack of potatoes, and after a brief spell of wild thrashing on the floor, he was gone.  I was only a boy of ten and seeing that much blood on the floor was utterly shocking.  I stood there staring at my dead father, my mouth hung open as if I was in some sort of trance, and I guess it’s fair to say that I was, in a sense.

A look of horror washed across Mr. Higgins’s face when he spotted me.  I don’t think he had any idea at the time that my father even had a son.  All he knew was that the dead man at his feet owed him a large debt, and he was going to pay for it with his life.  I’m not sure it would’ve even made a difference in the long run if he’d known I was his son. 

At that time, however, it
did
seem to make a difference to him because the look of horror was suddenly replaced by a somber expression of pity as he looked down on me. 

He stepped toward me and for a moment I feared that he was going to kill me too, but instead he scooped me up and carried me out of my home and into the bitter cold night.  Higgins moved swiftly and discreetly through the dark alleys of London with me upon his shoulder.  We eventually emerged at a dock and before I knew it I found myself on the deck of a large ship
, the largest I’d ever seen at the time.  I don’t know why, but somehow I knew immediately that I was on board a pirate ship.  On an ordinary night, this realization would’ve undoubtedly terrified me.  However, this was no ordinary night.  My father had just been murdered and his death, along with the vision of all that blood on the floor, was still fresh in my mind. 

Higgins stopped at the captain’s cabin and began pounding frantically on the door.  After a long moment, the door opened and a wrinkled and weathered face peered out.  The captain had a large nose with a large, bushy mustache that curved down sharply and disappeared into a grey beard that enveloped the lower half of his face.  His eyes were tired but attentive.  The captain seemed to know that there must have been a good reason for one of his officers to wake him at such an unusual hour.  

His boatswain, Higgins, began to tell the tale of what had happened on my father’s doorstep earlier in the night.  He spoke so fast that I wasn’t sure if the pirate captain was able to comprehend a word that spilled from his chapped lips.  When he finally finished, the old captain looked down at meet, pity and sorrow etched in the deep lines of his face.  He then knelt down to my level and peered sharply into my eyes.  The shadows of the night darkened half of his face and I could smell the strong scent of rum on his breath.   He asked me my name and I told him, my voice soft and fearful.  The old captain proceeded to tell me very matter-of-factly that given my current predicament, there were only two possible outcomes and the choice was completely mine to make.  My first option was death.  There was no hesitation in his voice when he told me.  It was made very clear to me that if I did not choose the second option, I would be killed.  I was promised that the death would be quick and almost painless. 

The second option given was an opportunity to sign the articles and join the crew of his ship.  As a ten-year-old boy, this option was not very appealing to me especially since I’d probably see my father’s killer on a daily basis.  However, the fear of dying made the decision easier and minutes later I found myself in the captain’s cabin signing my life away…

  “William, are you alright?” John asked, snatching me back to the present.

I shook my head and nodded.

  “I’m fine,” I said.  “Thanks again, I couldn’t have pulled this off without you.”

He waved off my thanks and I noticed him eyeing Andrea.  He shot a look of confusion my way. 

  “This is Andrea Bonnett,” I said.  “She’s the prisoner we helped escape.”

  “As you say,” he replied, still staring at her. 

  Andrea glanced at me, obviously uncomfortable with the awkward staring.  “Does he always stare at new acquaintances like this?”

Her words seem to snap him out of his trance and his face suddenly flushed a nice shade of pink.

  “Oh, I’m truly sorry Miss…you’re just not what I was expecting is all,” John stammered.  “You don’t look the least bit like any pirate I’ve ever seen and I’ve seen a lot of pirates over the years.”

Andrea smiled at him, suddenly understanding his bewildered state. 

  “I’m not so sure you’ve seen all that many pirates then,” she replied.  “Lady pirates are much more common than you think.”

  “Aye, I’ve met my share of woman pirates,” John said.  “However, the woman pirates I’ve met over the years are less…

He seemed to struggle to find the right word.

  “Less what?” she asked.

  “Less…less…

  “Beautiful,” I interrupted.  “Less beautiful, it’s okay to say it John.  She is indeed quite beautiful.”

John’s face turned a shade of pink yet again, and Andrea’s did the same.

  “What are you three bunglers raving on about?” Langley asked suddenly.  “Cap’n, I could sure use a hand with Gordon.”

I hurried over to the boat and grabbed Gordon’s legs; Langley had him under the arms.  He was still unconscious and all dead weight. 

John led the way up the stone-carved stairs, torch in hand, followed by Andrea.  When we finally arrived in the stock room, John rolled up a thick overcoat and we lay Gordon down, his head resting on the wool coat. 

  “We’re going to have to leave him here for the night,” I said.  “We can’t move him through the streets without drawing suspicion.”

  “None of you will be able to go out there without drawing suspicion,” John said.  “You’re
all
going to have to stay here for the night.”

  “No, we can’t risk that,” I said.  “They’re going to still be searching in the morning and the streets will probably be even more buttoned up than they are right now.”

John squinted and scratched his head.  He always did that when he was deep in thought.  Suddenly, his face lit up.

  “I think I’ve got an idea to get you all to your ship unnoticed,” he said.  He glanced at Andrea.  “But I’m sorry to say it won’t be all that pleasant, Miss.”

  “I can handle whatever you have in mind if it leads to my freedom,” she answered without hesitation.

  “Very well,” he replied.  “Follow me.”

Andrea, Langley, and I followed him to the furthest corner of the stock room.  There was a rather large stack of wooden crates and barrels arranged neatly in the corner. 

  “When the merchants I use bring me a new shipment of goods, they usually ask that I send back the empty containers when I’m through with them.  This is where I keep them all until they return.  As you can see, some of them are quite large.  Some are so large you could fit a couple of pirates in them.”

He glanced at me and I soon realized what he was thinking.

  “You know,” I said, smiling.  “The sloop that the governor has provided me is still in need of supplies.”

  “I don’t mind making a late night delivery,” John said.

Langley grumbled as he realized what was about to happen.  “Cap’n, let’s bustle to it.  I’m not getting any younger and my old bones can’t take this sort of abuse for very long.”

I clasped a hand on his shoulder. 

 
“I think we’ll stow you away in your own rum barrel, Langley.  The sweet aroma will make the trip somewhat easier.”