A Pirates Life for Me Read online

we’ve been out to sea for a while. I was wondering if you would like to join us for dinner tonight.”

  There’s a woman at the man’s side who is half his age but sleeps in his bed.

  She kisses him on the lips and asks, “Can we?”

  The man shrugs and says, “Why not.”

  “How many guests should we be expecting?” The captain asks.

  “There are five of us. Not including the crew of course.”

  “Crew,” I say. “How many people does it take to run that ship?”

  “Only three, but I can’t go anywhere without my cook and my butler.”

  That makes a total of ten I think to myself. The captain of the yacht might put up a fight, but the cook and the butler will go quietly. As for this man and his pampered socialites, they won’t know what to do.

  “Throw us a line,” the captain says.

  This is where our nerves are put to the test. I can almost feel the tension in the crew hiding behind me. Muscles tight and poised to strike at any moment. To their credit they maintain their position until the rope is secured, until the captain gives the order.

  “Now!”

  Suddenly one hundred men rear up and charge forward. The captain’s word is like the trigger of a gun. It takes me less than a second to leap into the other boat and grab the man and woman.

  The only real struggle comes from an unsuspected source.

  For several minutes, the cook holds his ground by butcher’s knife. At this point everyone has been captured and our crew has the cook surrounded on the bow of the ship. Still, the man continues to yell and slash at anyone who comes close. If I had known the cook would turn out to be a burly Cuban, I would have expected it.

  The captain makes his way forward through the crowd and squares off with the cook.

  “We can stand here all day,” he says to the cook. “You may even take a couple chunks from my crew, but the end result will be the same. You’re out numbered.” The captain draws his sword. “I won’t ask anything of my crew that I’m not willing to do myself.”

  Now, toe-to-toe with the cook, the captain’s face is steely determination. The cook drops the knife and puts his hands in the air.

  “Mister Samuels,” the captain says to me, “if you’d be so kind as to take a party and search the ship.”

  I point at a couple of men and we head below deck.

  It’s all staterooms and marble. The epitome of hedonism. The search is uneventful. The yacht is filled to the gills with extravagant food and liquor. There’ll be a party tonight.

  We’re somewhere in one of the store rooms when gunfire erupts. Everything in my body tells me to run above deck with sword in hand. Logistics wins over and I find a window. A couple meters to the aft is a navy patrol boat. A couple men with assault rifles are firing warning shots into the air.

  A man comes on a bullhorn, “Cease and desist. Lay face down on the deck with your arms spread.”

  Someone on The Zombie Mistress has the main sail raised and the ship is building up speed. The crew is jumping across as the gap between the yacht and The Mistress grows.

  There’s more gun fire as the navy patrol boat pulls alongside the yacht. Several men board and I realize that it’s me and my three-man-party against four men and their automatic weapons.

  I don’t think but give the order, “To the bow.” I push my men forward as the navy men hear my shouts, “Go, go, go!”

  I get topside just in time to see my last man jumping overboard. It isn’t enough time for me. I can sense the muzzle of a gun pointed at my back.

  “Don’t move,” a voice shouts.

  I’m done. Captured and handcuffed. I’m dragged to the bridge and left to be guarded by a single man as the navy captain orders his men back aboard their own boat and they go racing after The Zombie Mistress.

  Secure in the idea that I’m not going anywhere, my guard leaves me to make his own search of the yacht. I’m lying on my side trying to wiggle out of my hands out of the cuffs, but tearing my skin instead. When I’m about to give up, I hear it. At first it’s the sound of metal swinging against metal, then it’s a soft patter. Something climbs on top of me and makes a soft squeaking noise. Mr. Jeevus hops down into my line of sight and gives an anxious cry.

  “Hey, wanna get me out of this?”

  Jeevus gets excited. He pulls open his little vest to reveal a concealed handcuff key.

  “You’re getting ten bananas for this.”

  Jeevus screeches and climbs behind me. It takes him a minute, but I’m free.

  I get up and hit the throttle, sending the yacht into the pursuit. I can hear my guard racing upstairs to see what’s going on. Before he can get through the door, I put my fist in his face and he’s down.

  The yacht has a lot of power in it, making it easy to catch up. I throw the throttle up to twenty knots, gaining fast. The navy boat is maintaining a short distance behind The Zombie Mistress. I can see the flash, then hear the crack, of random gunfire. The crew-- my friends, my family-- have no chance. Barreling ahead, I’m not sure if the navy boat has noticed me. Maybe they just don’t expect it, but they make no moves until seconds before I ram them. The hundred foot yacht sheers the fifty foot patrol boat in half. The sudden impact jolts me forward. There’s a quick flash of pain and I hit something.

  I come to, choking on a lung-full of water. I’m motionless for a moment thinking about how the ocean changes everything. A wave of water splashes me in the face springing me up into a sitting position. I’m on the bow of the yacht and the ship is slowly sinking.

  Mr. Jeevus has found his way onto a high point and he’s screeching madly. Standing is a struggle. There’s something wrong with me, but I can’t figure out what it is yet.

  “Time to abandon ship,” I say to Jeevus.

  He agrees and jumps down into my arms. I grab a life preserver and go overboard. My first task is to get clear of the yacht before I get tangled and pulled under with it. My second task is to see if I can spot The Zombie Mistress. This is when I realize I’m missing an eye.

  The damn ship took my eye.

  I think I pass out again.

  I wake up looking into the face of the second lieutenant.

  “Try not to move too fast,” he says.

  “What about the other men with me?” I ask.

  “Safe and sound, all of us...” The second lieutenant hesitates.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “During the pursuit, the captain...” He stops again.

  He doesn’t have to finish. I know what he’s going to say. I’m out of bed, ignoring the difficulties of my loss of depth perception.

  The captain’s stateroom is somber with the aura of death. Lying in his bed, semi-conscious the captain catches me entering. He waves me over. His torso is wrapped thick in bandages and, still, blood is seeping through.

  “The hero of the day,” the captain says. “You look good with an eye patch. My hand goes up to my face, feeling the patch around my eye. “I told you I saw something in you. I saw greatness. If I could pick anyone in the world it would be you. This is your ship now, Robert.”

  The captain died.

  When the patrol boat started firing, he ordered the men down and took the helm. He had taken several bullets to the chest for his effort. There was nothing anyone could do.

  I’m standing on the bridge of my ship now, with Mr. Jeevus crouched on my shoulder. We’re headed to an island to bury the captain. From there, I don’t know where we’ll go, but I do know there is no way back for me.

  ###

  About the author:

  Grayson Queen is a full-time novelist and painter located out of Orange County, California. His artistic passions range from deeply philosophical to unusual science fiction and fantasy.

  In his free time, Grayson dabbles with music, sculpture, and various explorations of geek culture. He is happily married to a dinosaur, and is happily owned
by two amazing cats.

  Novels:

  Orange Buffalo

  Short Stories:

  3676

  A Pirate's Life for Me

  Coinage

  Dehydration

  Fix It

  Hostile Takeover

  The Telltale Toilet

  Graphic Stories:

  Dead Happy

  The Eater

  Children's Books:

  The Angry Dragon

  The Lonely Robot

  Check for other upcoming books in print or follow at:

  https://www.graysonqueen.com