| Excerpted from: Natalie's Good Fortune |
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The shrill scream of a woman’s voice chilled the blood in Natalie’s veins as cold as winter solstice and
she halted in her footsteps. Immediately, thoughts of Lindsay rushed into her head. The high-pitched shrieks
were unrecognizable to Natalie’s ear and could have been any of the women aboard. She listened to the
woman’s pitiful wailing and pleading from the deck above and found she could not move, could not
breathe; Natalie stood petrified with fear while the woman screamed and wailed, and then abruptly
stopped. Peering down the narrow passageway with wide eyes, Natalie saw sunlight and smoke streaming
down through ladder well. Her hands began to tremble terribly and her knees felt as weak as wet reeds. In
her bosom, her heart fluttered in her chest, and though she sucked in great gasping breaths, she felt she
could get no air into her lungs. A dark shadow blotted out the sunlight, and the frightened girl watched as a
pair of filthy, tar stained feet came creeping down the ladder, preceded by the bloodied point of a long,
curving blade. Another pair of feet appeared on the steps behind the first, and then another. Natalie stilled
her breathing, hoping desperately to remain unseen as she stood in the passageway, hugging Moll Flanders
to her breast. The three pirates spied her standing all alone near the door. The first one, younger than the
others, raised his blade not a dozen long steps away, staring at Natalie with lust in his eyes, his black hair
lying close along his neck and his icy blue eyes stabbing deep into her soul.
He smiled. “Hello, my pretty little doxie,” the pirate hissed, sounding like a serpent.
Natalie turned blindly and fled back into the Captain’s cabin. She heard running feet thudding on the deck
behind her as she slammed shut and bolted the door. The pounding impact from the other side of the heavy
oak startled her, making Natalie jump. The pirates found themselves locked out and one of them bellowed
in rage, “Open up this hatch, you little tart, or we’ll tear it down and you’ll suffer the worse for it!”
Another screamed, “You’ll wish you had when we feed you with your own guts!”
Panicked and shaking uncontrollably, Natalie moved around the room, searching for a place to hide as the
drumming on the door intensified. To Natalie’s good fortune the door of the cabin had been built sturdy
enough to withstand a mutiny, and even swinging axes in the confinement of the narrow passageway, it
would take those men an hour to batter their way inside the cabin. However, Natalie had no thought for the
strength of the door, and in desperation she looked to the windows. There she saw the long rope attached to
the launch as it crossed the window just outside, a mere four feet or so from the glass. She ran to the
window and struggled briefly to wriggle her body through the iron-frame, then climbing out upon the sill
and reaching for the rope. The ship rose and fell on the sea, and the movement of the great oak vessel,
which Natalie had grown so accustomed to, threatened to spill her from the narrow ledge. Still, hope flared
in her heart as she focused her efforts on getting her fingers around the corded sisal. She stretched her arm
as far as she dared, then stretched just a bit more. When finally she grasped the line and tried to pull it
close, the tension on the rope pulled her further from the security of the window ledge, straining her grip
and causing her to lean perilously far out over the ship’s wake. Releasing her grip on Moll Flanders, she
grabbed the line with both hands and pulled it tight against her chest. The History And Misfortunes Of The
Famous Moll Flanders, Etc slipped away, tumbling ever downward, pages flapping like the wings of a bird
shot from the sky, into the ocean below.
Natalie watched the book fall away, down the length of what appeared to be an incredibly long distance,
into the foamy waters trailing away behind the ship. Fear rose in her heart and her throat tightened with the
thought she would be next to tumble helplessly into the icy waters. Never having done anything so
physically demanding, or having been so in need of agility and strength of arms, Natalie felt certain she
would plummet to her death.
she halted in her footsteps. Immediately, thoughts of Lindsay rushed into her head. The high-pitched shrieks
were unrecognizable to Natalie’s ear and could have been any of the women aboard. She listened to the
woman’s pitiful wailing and pleading from the deck above and found she could not move, could not
breathe; Natalie stood petrified with fear while the woman screamed and wailed, and then abruptly
stopped. Peering down the narrow passageway with wide eyes, Natalie saw sunlight and smoke streaming
down through ladder well. Her hands began to tremble terribly and her knees felt as weak as wet reeds. In
her bosom, her heart fluttered in her chest, and though she sucked in great gasping breaths, she felt she
could get no air into her lungs. A dark shadow blotted out the sunlight, and the frightened girl watched as a
pair of filthy, tar stained feet came creeping down the ladder, preceded by the bloodied point of a long,
curving blade. Another pair of feet appeared on the steps behind the first, and then another. Natalie stilled
her breathing, hoping desperately to remain unseen as she stood in the passageway, hugging Moll Flanders
to her breast. The three pirates spied her standing all alone near the door. The first one, younger than the
others, raised his blade not a dozen long steps away, staring at Natalie with lust in his eyes, his black hair
lying close along his neck and his icy blue eyes stabbing deep into her soul.
He smiled. “Hello, my pretty little doxie,” the pirate hissed, sounding like a serpent.
Natalie turned blindly and fled back into the Captain’s cabin. She heard running feet thudding on the deck
behind her as she slammed shut and bolted the door. The pounding impact from the other side of the heavy
oak startled her, making Natalie jump. The pirates found themselves locked out and one of them bellowed
in rage, “Open up this hatch, you little tart, or we’ll tear it down and you’ll suffer the worse for it!”
Another screamed, “You’ll wish you had when we feed you with your own guts!”
Panicked and shaking uncontrollably, Natalie moved around the room, searching for a place to hide as the
drumming on the door intensified. To Natalie’s good fortune the door of the cabin had been built sturdy
enough to withstand a mutiny, and even swinging axes in the confinement of the narrow passageway, it
would take those men an hour to batter their way inside the cabin. However, Natalie had no thought for the
strength of the door, and in desperation she looked to the windows. There she saw the long rope attached to
the launch as it crossed the window just outside, a mere four feet or so from the glass. She ran to the
window and struggled briefly to wriggle her body through the iron-frame, then climbing out upon the sill
and reaching for the rope. The ship rose and fell on the sea, and the movement of the great oak vessel,
which Natalie had grown so accustomed to, threatened to spill her from the narrow ledge. Still, hope flared
in her heart as she focused her efforts on getting her fingers around the corded sisal. She stretched her arm
as far as she dared, then stretched just a bit more. When finally she grasped the line and tried to pull it
close, the tension on the rope pulled her further from the security of the window ledge, straining her grip
and causing her to lean perilously far out over the ship’s wake. Releasing her grip on Moll Flanders, she
grabbed the line with both hands and pulled it tight against her chest. The History And Misfortunes Of The
Famous Moll Flanders, Etc slipped away, tumbling ever downward, pages flapping like the wings of a bird
shot from the sky, into the ocean below.
Natalie watched the book fall away, down the length of what appeared to be an incredibly long distance,
into the foamy waters trailing away behind the ship. Fear rose in her heart and her throat tightened with the
thought she would be next to tumble helplessly into the icy waters. Never having done anything so
physically demanding, or having been so in need of agility and strength of arms, Natalie felt certain she
would plummet to her death.
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The shorelines ran over the port and larboard gun'ls, stretching taut as the line to the drogue began to pull
away in the current. An axe stood against the larboard gun'l and Natalie ran to it as quick as her legs
would carry her while Lindsay, her chest heaving to draw breath, clambered over the gun'l and staggered
aft toward the poop deck and the tiller. In one swift movement, Natalie grabbed the axe handle and
brought it round in a vicious arc, landing the keen edge into the shoreline and severing the cable. Axe in
hand, she ran to the starboard side even as the sloop began to shift in that direction, still secured by the
line there. The girl panted with fatigue, taking in great, heaving breaths, but still brought the axe down on
the remaining cable with a tremendous chop. The line severed and the boat lurched forward. Looking
upward, Natalie saw the mast would surely clear the top of the rocky passageway. Turning aft, she saw
Lindsay at the whipstaff, guiding the sloop as best she could. Natalie smiled and turned forward. Her
smile faded however as she realized the drogue would drag the vessel toward the craggy boulders in the
surf ahead. She snapped her head back around toward Lindsay.
"Hard to starboard!" Natalie shouted.
Out in the lagoon two longboats approached the cavern entrance.
"See the break in the shore, there, and the way the greenery hangs flat?" Paddy Boyle bellowed. "Most
certainly there be a cave in that mountain large enough to hide that vessel, and they're tucked neatly away
and hoping we'll shove off and forget about them. Now, row for that channel and we'll see what this be all
about!"
"I'm with you, Paddy," Piney Wood said from the aft end of the boat. "That little sea tart is slicker than a
hagfish, and if there be a way to hide that sloop in a bearded oyster she'll make it so."
Laughter filled the boat.
"You all know what a hagfish is, don't you," Paddy Boyle said, glaring at the rest of his men. Most of the
crew merely stared up at him with blank, expressionless faces. "It's a slimy little eel of a fish what ain't
got no spine, just like you." Pulling his machete from his belt, he waved it at the men. "Now, put your
backs into them oars and make for land afore I commence to hacking off limbs!"
Connor pulled at the oars with all his strength, keeping time with Bill and dipping the wooden paddles
deep into the water in hope of affecting the path of the sloop just enough to keep the vessel from smashing
upon the jagged rocks. He realized Natalie's drogue did indeed work, perhaps too well, but were the
sloop to break upon the boulders, the two girls would go with it. Afterward, even if Connor and Bill
could manage somehow to row in and among the treacherous crags, the boat would be more of a danger
than salvation and would likely bash their little skulls like raw eggs. He watched as the sloop moved
slowly from the shadows of the cavern out into the pale light of the dawn like some great beast exiting its
lair into the rough breakers.
Leaning hard on the tiller, Lindsay felt the sloop begin to roll side to side on the breaking surf, worrying
they might soon slam against the enormous, barnacle-encrusted boulders. Although the deep currents ran
well away from the island, the many eddies and washes curling around the stone and sand could hold a
large vessel like a fox holds a chicken and shake it to death. From her station above, Lindsay watched as
Natalie ran to the bow and leaned far out over the gun'l to look into the swirling waters, finding it hard to
believe how much energy the girl had. The whole ship began to rock and bob on the choppy surf. Rough
waves exploded and sprayed across the deck. Looking up to the mast, Lindsay worried that the tops would
break against the rocky ceiling as they wheeled back and forth, although the booms were stowed
amidships and the sails down and there appeared to be more than enough room for the top of the mast to
clear the crags above.
Lindsay heard a brief shriek.
Instinctively, she turned to look where Natalie should have stood, but did not. There, a gleaming tan, wet
hand clung desperately to the gun'l. Natalie had gone over the side.
"Nattie!" Lindsay screamed.
away in the current. An axe stood against the larboard gun'l and Natalie ran to it as quick as her legs
would carry her while Lindsay, her chest heaving to draw breath, clambered over the gun'l and staggered
aft toward the poop deck and the tiller. In one swift movement, Natalie grabbed the axe handle and
brought it round in a vicious arc, landing the keen edge into the shoreline and severing the cable. Axe in
hand, she ran to the starboard side even as the sloop began to shift in that direction, still secured by the
line there. The girl panted with fatigue, taking in great, heaving breaths, but still brought the axe down on
the remaining cable with a tremendous chop. The line severed and the boat lurched forward. Looking
upward, Natalie saw the mast would surely clear the top of the rocky passageway. Turning aft, she saw
Lindsay at the whipstaff, guiding the sloop as best she could. Natalie smiled and turned forward. Her
smile faded however as she realized the drogue would drag the vessel toward the craggy boulders in the
surf ahead. She snapped her head back around toward Lindsay.
"Hard to starboard!" Natalie shouted.
Out in the lagoon two longboats approached the cavern entrance.
"See the break in the shore, there, and the way the greenery hangs flat?" Paddy Boyle bellowed. "Most
certainly there be a cave in that mountain large enough to hide that vessel, and they're tucked neatly away
and hoping we'll shove off and forget about them. Now, row for that channel and we'll see what this be all
about!"
"I'm with you, Paddy," Piney Wood said from the aft end of the boat. "That little sea tart is slicker than a
hagfish, and if there be a way to hide that sloop in a bearded oyster she'll make it so."
Laughter filled the boat.
"You all know what a hagfish is, don't you," Paddy Boyle said, glaring at the rest of his men. Most of the
crew merely stared up at him with blank, expressionless faces. "It's a slimy little eel of a fish what ain't
got no spine, just like you." Pulling his machete from his belt, he waved it at the men. "Now, put your
backs into them oars and make for land afore I commence to hacking off limbs!"
Connor pulled at the oars with all his strength, keeping time with Bill and dipping the wooden paddles
deep into the water in hope of affecting the path of the sloop just enough to keep the vessel from smashing
upon the jagged rocks. He realized Natalie's drogue did indeed work, perhaps too well, but were the
sloop to break upon the boulders, the two girls would go with it. Afterward, even if Connor and Bill
could manage somehow to row in and among the treacherous crags, the boat would be more of a danger
than salvation and would likely bash their little skulls like raw eggs. He watched as the sloop moved
slowly from the shadows of the cavern out into the pale light of the dawn like some great beast exiting its
lair into the rough breakers.
Leaning hard on the tiller, Lindsay felt the sloop begin to roll side to side on the breaking surf, worrying
they might soon slam against the enormous, barnacle-encrusted boulders. Although the deep currents ran
well away from the island, the many eddies and washes curling around the stone and sand could hold a
large vessel like a fox holds a chicken and shake it to death. From her station above, Lindsay watched as
Natalie ran to the bow and leaned far out over the gun'l to look into the swirling waters, finding it hard to
believe how much energy the girl had. The whole ship began to rock and bob on the choppy surf. Rough
waves exploded and sprayed across the deck. Looking up to the mast, Lindsay worried that the tops would
break against the rocky ceiling as they wheeled back and forth, although the booms were stowed
amidships and the sails down and there appeared to be more than enough room for the top of the mast to
clear the crags above.
Lindsay heard a brief shriek.
Instinctively, she turned to look where Natalie should have stood, but did not. There, a gleaming tan, wet
hand clung desperately to the gun'l. Natalie had gone over the side.
"Nattie!" Lindsay screamed.
| Excerpted from: Isle Of Lost Souls |