>Here is my contribution to the Blogfest of Death! While it’s not in Dead Locked, this is a side story I wrote related to the backstory of my novel. I had planned to post it later on after my book came out, but it was too perfect for this challenge. I’ll just have to write another story for later on. Enjoy!
Off the coast of Rhode Island
17 August, 1720
Horizontal rain cut across Captain Isaac Crewe’s face like razor blades. In the gray light, he watched the ship’s wheel spin at dizzying speeds. He and his crew had gotten caught in a tropical storm that was throwing the double masted sloop back and forth like a child’s ragdoll. Some still clung to lines though they had lost control of the ship a long time ago. Ten foot waves lifted them into the air and then bottomed out. Crewe closed his eyes as they crashed, the water turned into rock beneath them. He pictured the hull snapping in half. Amazingly, when he opened his eyes, the ship was still in one piece.
Crewe gripped the side of the ship, looking out in time to see land bright and clear as they collided with it. Screams blew away with the wind as jagged points impaled the ship’s starboard side, splintering the thick beams like twigs. Crewe rolled to the port side, knocking his head into the beams. He faded out for a moment and when he awoke, sea water poured into his lungs, burning his insides. He flailed, pushing to the surface, spluttering and coughing, then inhaling precious air. He could barely see through the salt and rain, but he swore he could see land right in front of him.
Crewe fought the waves and currents now trying to control him. His arms burned but he was no closer. Suddenly, a rogue wave lifted him up from behind, hurling his body toward the sand. He flailed, getting sucked under, water swirling him upside down and around. He surfaced, pushing harder despite every muscle begging him to give up. Another swell carried him closer, dashing his legs against rocks on the bottom. He dropped to his knees, crawling toward the beach. His hands sunk into sand, and he dropped onto his belly, gasping and spluttering salt water.
His eyes closed and he imagined a voice calling him from far away. He fought to open his lids and saw a figure in white running toward him against the rain and wind. His time was coming. Justice was being meted out. Isaac Crewe’s days of pirating were over.
Georgiana Cooke kneeled over the bedraggled figure in his blue woolen coat, now shredded around his back. His hands were wrapped around the earth like claws, his brown hair matted around his face in clumps. Georgiana shivered, her lips already blue from running the distance from her family’s home on the breakwater to the beach. Her brown hair blew crossways in front of her eyes and she struggled to stay in one spot.
“Isaac!” She said, but even she couldn’t hear it.
She gripped Crewe’s back, leaning toward his face and said his name again. She stroked his hair, wishing she had a way to get him back to her home. She could not go back and tell her father. He would bring Isaac back all right. He would bring him back and see him hung as a pirate – and his daughter’s lover. Georgiana felt tears fall from her eyes but they were indistinguishable from the rain. She shook Isaac, and lifted up an eyelid. It was dawn. Her family would soon be about the house. She had to go back before they knew she was gone.
Georgiana pushed Isaac over onto his back, feeling for a heartbeat. She put her ear up to his mouth, but could hear and feel only rain and wind. He still didn’t respond. She clasped his bearded face in her hands and kissed his mouth. She followed the gold chain stuck to his neck down to an oval locket the size of the center of her palm. She ripped it off, gripping it in her hand so it wouldn’t blow away. With sand and salt chafing her cheeks, she dragged Isaac’s body, already stiffening, back to the water. Waves crashed on top of the beach as she dragged and then pushed him into them.
Standing back, she watched as white peaks rose and folded over, engulfing her beloved Isaac. He disappeared from view and when she felt sure they had taken him to rest, Georgiana Cooke turned into the wind and rain. Gripping the locket, she looked back one last time at the sea before dashing up the wooded path back to her home.