Page 54 of Ship Happens
I blink to clear my head as I’m held upright. When the wave of dizziness recedes, I grip the railing and glance behind me. Eve wiggles a small metal bucket, which is now empty.
“Sorry, honey, but being overheated won’t help with the motion sickness. Just trying to help.”
I give her a nod, too sick to form words.
Maverick releases my arm, keeping one hand on my opposite hip. I can’t tell if he’s trying to get handsy or be helpful, and I’m not sure it matters. I’m happy either way. A smile bubbles out of me, and I can’t stop it.
Maverick looks down at me, giving me a lazy half-smirk.
Oh god. Oh god, no.
Something else bubbles out of me. And I can’t stop it, either.
With one hand on the railing, I turn my head and projectile vomit into the sea. I hope the fish enjoy the hot ham sandwich we ate on the tender ride to this pirate ship.
Now that I’ve vomited, the cold sweat finally passes. I turn back to Eve, who seems to be one of the few people completely unaffected by the ship’s motion.
“What’s your secret?” I croak.
She shrugs and tucks the bucket under her arm. “Good genes, I suppose. Same as Rosie, Maverick, and Bennett. We seem to be the only three who aren’t affected.”
She’s right. Kindra and Ezra huddle by one of the masts, both of them slightly paler than normal. Bennett tends to Cat, who hasn’t stopped dry heaving since we set sail. Rose flits between Aven and Grim, who sit on the deck with their heads hangingbetween their bent knees. She places a damp cloth to their necks, periodically wringing it out in a bucket of ice water.
“This is a fucking mess,” I say. “How are we supposed to put on a show when seventy-five percent of us are down for the count?”
Jim approaches from our right. Even though Maverick warned us about his transformation, it’s still a surprise to see Blackbeard in the flesh. I’m thankful he uses his normal voice when he talks to us, though. A straight face would have been an impossibility if he’d spoken in the voice Maverick described.
He raises his hands in a placating gesture as he steps closer. “I understand the seasickness is a bit of an issue, but you should all feel a bit better once we come to a stop. We’re going against some rougher waters, so it feels a bit bumpy.”
Cat raises her head. “A bit bumpy? Jim, this isn’t a fucking HPV outbreak. It’s hell! Would it have killed you to allow this piece of shit to have stabilizers?”
“Hear, hear,” I add, though only loud enough that Maverick can hear me. He rewards me with a smirk.
Jim’s shoulders droop, giving him the appearance of a wilted flower. “They’re about to drop anchor. As soon as we clear the side of that island, we’ll be in view of the Normies, who’ve just settled at their tables for lunch. Then we can begin.”
The fact that I feel compassion for this man is a bad sign, but I do. He was clearly excited about this event, and it’s not working out as he anticipated. And dammit, I want to help him.
“It’s okay,” I say. “Like you said, once the ship comes to a stop, most of us will feel better. All the murdering will take our minds off this shitty feeling.”
Jim’s eyes soften as he looks at me. “Thank you for the vote of confidence. It means more than you know.”
Oh, I know what the fuck it means, and I’m struggling with it.
I look out at the water. A large patch of ocean creates a barrier between the ship and the island, so I’m not certain how entertained the Normies will be. We’ll look like ants fighting for a bread crumb from this distance.
Jim must realize what I’m thinking, because he pulls a spyglass from an interior pocket and hands it to me. I extend the lens and peer through the eyepiece. The device eats up the distance, and I can make out leaves on the island trees. A few small birds huddle amongst the rocks lining the shore on this side.
“The guests on the island will have something similar, though not so powerful. We want them to be close enough to see some action without realizing what’s actually happening.” Jim takes the offered spyglass and passes it to Eve, who tries it out, then passes it to Maverick. “They won’t get them until after the first event, however.”
“Why is that?” Maverick asks as he stares at the island through the lens.
“I tried to figure out how to make keelhauling look less authentic, even from a distance, but it was unmistakable in our test runs. A living person goes in, and a dead person usually comes out.” Jim shakes his head. “Blood helps sell real death as fiction. Without the set dressings, it’s clear that we’re just hauling up drowned men and women.”
“Keelhauling?” I look at Maverick. “Test runs?”
“Yes, well, we couldn’t very well have the big show be our dress rehearsal, could we? I needed to know if this would work, and it does.” Jim clears his throat and looks into the distance. “Just not as well as I’d hoped. Some of them survive.”
Maverick turns to me, ready to explain. “Keelhauling is where a rope is tied to?—”
