Steel

The sun set on another day.

“We’ll careen her once we pull into the cove,” the captain announced the next morning. “It’ll take time to get everyone sorted, might as well take advantage.”

Land had come into view, a looming shape of island larger than many others they’d encountered, but not as large as Hispaniola or Cuba, which they’d slid past without approaching. This was Jamaica, their destination.

Jenks shouted orders, and the Diana changed direction, veering away before they’d drawn close enough to even make out trees and hills on the landmass.

“We want to stay out of the way,” Henry said, noting Jill’s confusion. “Port Royal’s south, and more trouble than we want just now.”

While they never left sight of the island, they didn’t draw any closer until late in the afternoon. They’d furled sails and tacked slowly into a western wind, making little progress. But Cooper stood on the foredeck, brass spyglass to her eye, searching for something. Once, she handed it to Abe, who called out and pointed.

Their port was deceptive. Jill would have sworn they sailed toward a solid piece of land, but as they drew closer, she saw that it was a separate island, long and thin, with beaches and palm trees, but no more than thirty feet wide. They rounded it, sailing into an inlet, calm and narrow, between the slender island and a corner of the Jamaican coast.

Jill’s heart sank. When they reached land, she’d assumed there’d be a town, some kind of civilization. Then she could escape—and do what? She still didn’t know. She’d still be stuck a long way from home.

“Where’s the port?” Jill said. She stood at the side with Henry to watch the ship’s approach to land.

The captain overheard. “And have us all caught and hanged? The big ships can’t get in here, and the spit of land’ll hide us. We can stay here long as we like.”

Jill said, “But I was hoping…I thought—”

“Thought what?” Cooper said.

?

??If we’re in a city, I’d have a better chance of finding my way home.”

“You signed articles, you’re crew now. This is your home.”

“But—”

“That’s enough of that.” Cooper walked off, and Jill had to leave the argument there.

The empty beach drew closer and closer, until a shudder passed through the hull, and the ship listed, then didn’t move at all. Jill grabbed a rope to keep from falling over. They’d run the Diana aground.

Then the work began. Dozens of sailors moved cannons on their wooden frames, securing them all to the port side of the ship, which, with all the weight on one side, began leaning sharply. Abe gathered the African passengers together and handed them ropes, gesturing them over the side. Emory, the doctor—surgeon, rather, though Jill hadn’t quite figured out the difference—was brought up on deck, squinting in the bright sun and beach, looking bedraggled in an untucked shirt, trousers, and scuffed shoes. One of the men tried to hand him a crate to carry to shore. Emory sneered and crossed his arms. After that, people ignored him. Even though he was a prisoner, no one bothered locking him up. But it wasn’t like he had anywhere to go. Just like Jill.

While she was watching, listening to the ominous creaks and groans the ship was making, Jenks came at her with a load of rope and pulleys. He was struggling to stay upright on the now steeply leaning deck—Jill herself didn’t dare let go of her handhold.

“You! Tadpole!”

Jill wished that name hadn’t stuck.

Jenks stumbled up beside her and leaned on the mast. “Take these to the beach.” He started transferring coils of ropes from his shoulder to hers; she scrambled to grab hold of them without letting them drop into a tangled mess. Square wooden pulleys, block and tackle, banged against her. The gear looked heavy when he’d been handling it. She thought she was going to fall over under the load.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“Don’t you know anything?” He marched off, shaking his head.

They were wrecking the ship—but she had to trust the pirates wouldn’t do such a thing. No one else seemed to be panicking. And as usual, they were happy to give her jobs to do without explaining how to do them. She heaved her load more firmly onto her shoulder, looked around, and aimed for Abe, who had one foot propped on the side of the ship, keeping balance as he helped the last of the Africans off the ship.

Then she let go. Leaning back against the slope, she let gravity pull her along, half trotting toward the side. She concentrated on standing upright; she could see herself falling, pulleys knocking into her, rope tangling her up as she rolled along. Then the crew would come up with a better name than Tadpole for her.

Abe saw her and paused to cross his arms and grin as she slammed into the side.

“Where you going with all that?” he said.

“Jenks said take it to the beach.”