Page 56 of Ship Happens

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Maverick, Eve, Aven, and I take up our positions on the deck. All six teams will participate in keelhauling at the same time, so our little groups are dotted at regular intervals. The Cattle have been lined up on the opposite side, with ropes fashioned around their midsections.

The task is simple enough. Crew members will hoist the Cattle overboard on that side, and we’ll haul them in on the opposite side, dragging them under the boat and across the keel. That’s keelhauling in a nutshell. They didn’t even need to put a sick twist into the activity because it’s already twisted as fuck on its own. The risk of drowning is high, but even if they survive the ordeal, they’ll be beaten to fuck and back by all the pulling.

Maverick is at the head of our rope, followed by me, then Eve. Aven takes up the slack at the end. He’s our powerhouse, and I only hope he’ll pull with all his might. Judging by his mounds of muscle, there’s plenty of might to go around.

“Are we really trying to do this as fast as possible? Seems a bit counterproductive, if you ask me. What’s the fun in saving them?” Aven asks as he tests the rope’s heft in his hand.

“So that we can torture them later,” Eve says. “Have you never given your victims a little hope? It makes it that much sweeter when you end them.”

Aven scoffs. “Jim hasn’t even said how the winner will be decided. What if it’s the group who kills the most Cattle? If we’re trying to keep ours alive to the end, we’ll lose.”

“You started working for Jim a few months ago, yeah?” Maverick asks, and Aven nods. “Then you have more than enough money for all the hookers and blow you can afford. Grab the rope and haul as fast as you can.”

Aven sets his jaw and solidifies his grip on the rope. He isn’t pleased, but it’s three on one. I’m glad Eve and Maverick are in my corner.

Speakers hidden around the ship begin playing the same spiel the Normies hear on land. It starts with a rousing orchestral song that sounds like a sea shanty, minus the raucous voices. Instead, Jim’s voice pipes over the music, using that same deep voice Maverick described earlier.

“Arr, landlubbers! Cast your eyes toward the horizon, for thar be pirates!”

Eve and I share a glance, then turn our attention toward Jim, who beams near the deck’s center. He’s like a proud director watching his third graders prepare to put on a show for their doting parents. Too bad the parents won’t realize the dead bodies aren’t stage props.

“The naval commanders tried to board their fine ship, and now the pirates must teach them a lesson. For your first course, please enjoy the Keelhauler appetizer: a fresh pairing of cocktail shrimp with a side of bloody cocktail sauce to dunk them in!”

“Everyone get ready!” Jim shouts, and we situate our grips on the rope.

Boom!

The boat lists to the side as a cannon fires somewhere below. Jim topples to his ass with a laugh, his hand clutching his hat to his head. The slack behind us tightens as the crew dumps the Cattle into the drink, and seconds later, we’re rewarded with a splash.

“Pull!” Maverick shouts, and we all pull back as we planned. “Pull!” he shouts again, and we give it everything we’ve got.

The struggle is immediate. I don’t know why I thought it would be simple to pull a human body from one side of the ship to the other, but I grossly underestimated the difficulty. Instead of water, it feels like we’re pulling him through wet cement.

I count the seconds in my head, holding my breath right along with the Cattle. By the time I reach thirty, I’m forced to suck in air, and it feels like we’ve made no progress.

“Longer pulls!” I shout. “We’re losing progress each time we adjust our grip. Hold tight and walk it backward on my word!”

Everyone nods and firms their grip.

“One, two, three,heave!” I yell, and we all step backward as a unit. “Ho!” I shout, and everyone instinctively adjusts without being told. “Heave!”

We pull with all our might, taking a few steps backward, and we practically feel the boat shudder as our Cattle strikes the underside.

“Okay, maybe a little gentler this time!” I shout.

We continue on for what feels like forever but is probably only about two minutes. Finally, the dead weight of a body out of water slows our progress. I’m tempted to rush to the railing and gawk over the side to see if he’s still alive, but there will be time enough for that once we get him back on deck.

After a few more pulls that make me feel like I’m going to shit my pants, the man finally clears the side of the ship and lands on the deck. The outcome is immediately obvious. If his pale lips and skin weren’t enough of a sign, the ability to see part of his spine through the gaping wound in his neck tells me everything I need to know.

“Shit, we damn near took this bloke’s head off.” Aven whistles, then laughs. “I was wrong. We can listen to Frankie from here out.”

My insides recoil, and I want to puke. Where is the motion sickness when I need it?

Maverick’s hand lands on my shoulder, and he gives it a squeeze. He can’t exactly comfort me in this moment, so he’s doing the best he can. And I’m grateful. I feel like shit.

“Six points to Maverick’s team!” Jim shouts. “They were the first to haul their catch aboard!”

Kindra groans and releases her section of rope, sending the other three members of her team stumbling forward. “What’s the fucking point? How can we compete if we don’t know what we’re trying to do?”