Part the Two Hundred Sixty Third: Abigail Gets Into the Sack
Hope willed herself to stop shaking. If Abigail was complaining about it during the rescue, she felt that her captain was warning her to be steady if they were going to get out of this in one piece.
Osei had in his hands a pitcher which he lifted to Abigail’s lips. She had a few gulps before she pulled her head away.
“We need to break these,” Hope noted the chains. “We need to give these a few good whacks. Or have our strongest men grab hold to give the chain on the floor a good jerk.”
“Or you could use the key they hang by the door,” said Abigail, “just out of my reach from this spot.”
Hope rolled her eyes as Charity retrieved the key and unlocked the shackles.
“They thought I wasn’t paying enough attention to that,” Abigail continued. “After what they did to me, they thought they’d done just enough to keep me addled but still useful.”
“That’s not going to happen again,” said Hope. “We’ve got a ship just east of here. We’re going to sail out as quickly as we can, and you’ll never have to be his plaything ever again.”
“I need a sack.”
“I want a sack,” said Abigail, “and I want it over me head, right now.”
The crew stood dumbfounded at her request.
“If I have to ask again, I’ll wrestle a weapon from any of you and blow the lot of you down. Now where’s me sack?”
In near panic at the odd request, Hope quickly scanned the room and found a discarded sack in the corner. Quickly, she went for it like a hawk swooping on its prey and placed it over Abigail’s head.
“Always knew I could trust ye,” she said, her voice sounding distant under the shroud. “Now, help me up and to the door.”
Hope did as she was asked, while Charity shot her a quizzical look.
She shrugged in response as she helped Abigail to the jamb.
At that point, Abigail stood erect, placed her foot before her and started to count out paces.
“This is the brilliant sea dog we’ve come to collect?” asked Mullins.
“I’m sure something brilliant will come of this,” said Hope, trying to hide the rising terror in her voice.
Abigail counted to nine, made a measured turn to her direct left, and started to count again.
Samuel leaned close to Hope and asked, “So what happens if the brilliant act she’s trying to do now turns out to be algo loco?”
Hope gripped his hand and allowed all the panic she would have shown in reaction to be expressed through her nails digging into his hand.
“Nineteen… Twenty… Twenty One…” Abigail counted off, before she stopped and listed slightly to port, then counted off from the beginning.
Nervous, Hope sighted her course and said, “There’s a building in your path.”
Abigail stopped. “Does she have what looks like two big doors straight ahead of me?”
“Yes. It looks like a deserted chapel.”
And deep inside, Hope started to fear what would happen next…
All content Copyright © 2010 James Ryan