Vampirates 1.5:Dead Deep (5 page)

Read Vampirates 1.5:Dead Deep Online

Authors: Justin Somper

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Pirates, #Science Fiction, #Family, #Siblings

BOOK: Vampirates 1.5:Dead Deep
8.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

At João’s anguished cries, the other fishtails swam to his aid. The sword had sliced through the tip of his tail and he was rapidly losing a terrible amount of blood. It flooded the water like red smoke.

Bart grabbed Connor and, letting the bloodied sword
drop to the ocean floor, began to swim powerfully up, past the fishtails and into clearer water.

Beneath him, the sword floated slowly back into the hands of the skeleton pirate.

The fishtails circled around João as his truncated tail flapped out of control. Its trail of blood acted as a clarion call to a trio of hammerhead sharks swimming close by. Scenting a
kill, they swam into the heart of the red mist, their hunger fully roused.

Some of the fishtails fled to the surface at once, but Loic and Musimu stayed on, holding their bleeding comrade between them, frozen with indecision.

The sharks closed in fast, their teeth sharp and merciless. They didn’t stop to consider the unusual shapes of the fish they attacked. Loic
and Musimu could only save themselves. At last, they released João’s limp body to the rapacious jaws.

Above them, Bart swam strongly toward the surface, wondering how much time he had before Connor’s breath finally gave out. Jez was surely already dead. He couldn’t dwell on this thought. Instead, he focused solely on his and Connor’s survival and powered on. His own air supply
was weakening, but he wouldn’t give up. He owed his buddies.

Below him, the sharks had made light work of their first prey. Now they circled Loic and Musimu thoughtfully, as a new predator swam forward to join them. Nature has a hierarchy and, just as hagfish give way to sharks, so the hammerheads gave way to the newcomer.

Sidorio swam closer, registering the
confusion in Loic and Musimu’s eyes as he approached. He knew what they were thinking:
How could a man come to be here? And why did the sharks not attack him?
But, like them, Sidorio was neither man nor fish. As they would find out soon enough.

The waters were thick with João’s blood now. The scent of it overcame Sidorio and, before the fishtails’ horrified eyes, he
changed. His pupils became pits of fire, no remnant of humanity left in them. And when he opened his mouth, his two gold fangs seemed as alarming as a whole row of shark’s teeth.

There was no possibility of escape.

Bart heard the distant screams as his head finally broke the surface and he felt the breeze on his face. He pulled Connor, who was still unconscious,
up alongside him. Bart had to get him back onto the boat. Bart looked up toward
The Lorelei
. Two people were staring down at him.

“Help us up!” Bart rasped, barely able to speak.

Neither Kally nor Flynn moved. It was as if they hadn’t heard him.

“Come ON!” Bart pleaded. “João is dead; Loic and Musimu, too. There are sharks down there.
Help us up!”

Still Kally and Flynn remained motionless.

“Please!” Bart cried. “Connor’s unconscious and I can’t find Jez. Please! I was prepared to give up everything for you. I still could. If you have any humanity at all, please let us up onto the boat.”

Even at this, Kally and Flynn did nothing. Perhaps they were too shocked by what had happened.
Perhaps he was simply no longer of use to them.

“Turn around.”
The voice was only a whisper, but Bart turned. He found that a small boat had drawn up behind him.

A pair of gloved hands reached out to him. Bart drew on all his strength as he lifted Connor forward. The hands helped pull Connor out of the water and into the small dinghy. Bart made the mistake
of looking down and saw a spiral of blood rising up through the water. He felt a fin brush past his feet…but then the hands reached out once more, and at last he, too, was safely inside the boat.

Bart looked up gratefully toward his savior, but the face was completely hidden by a dark mask.


You are tired, friend
,” came the whisper again.
“You fought so well,
but now you must rest.”

“Who are you?” Bart asked. He did feel incredibly tired, and his eyelids were already half-closed.

His rescuer did not reply; he simply turned and took up the oars. As he did so, Bart spotted another passenger by his feet.

“Jez!” he exclaimed.


He is sleeping now
,” said the mysterious ferryman.
“So is Connor. And now so, too, must you. We’ll meet again in time, Bart. I owe you a debt of thanks.”

How does he know our names?
Bart thought, searching the mask for clues. But there was nothing. No longer able to stave off the deep tiredness, he slumped back against the side of the boat and closed his eyes. He fell instantly asleep.


Safe
now
,” said the masked boatman as he steered the boat swiftly away from Hell Bay.

Connor opened his eyes and found himself staring up into the blinding lights of Calle del Marinero.

He was lying on the deck of the small lightboat. His head felt foggy and, as he twisted to his side and found Bart and Jez lying beside him, a sharp
pain seared through his skull. His groans woke the others.

“Where are we?” Bart asked, completely disoriented.

“Calle del Marinero,” said Connor.

“What day is it?” asked Jez.

“Never mind that,” said Bart. “Why are we only wearing underwear? Where have all our clothes gone?”

It was a good question, but as hard
as he tried to think back, Connor couldn’t remember.

Bart’s face suddenly turned a vivid shade of green. “I think I’m going to throw up now,” he said quite calmly, leaning over the side of the boat.

Connor grinned and shook his head. “Ouch!”

“That’s better!” said Bart, wiping his mouth clean.

“Charming,” said Jez.

Connor managed to heave himself up into a sitting position. As he did so, he saw that, in the distance, a familiar ship was approaching the floating city. “It’s
The Diablo
,” Connor said. “They’ve come to pick us up!”

“Already?” said Bart.

“Must be Sunday night, then,” said Jez.

“I guess so,” said Connor. “Do either of you remember
exactly how we spent our shore leave?”

Jez shook his head. Bart looked equally dumbstruck. Then he broke into a smile. “That must have been some shore leave, eh? For us to be half-naked and not remember a thing!”

“I guess,” Connor said. Suddenly, he noticed something. “Look,” he said with a smile. “I got a tattoo.” He held out the inside of his forearm. There
was a picture of three cutlasses, their hilts intertwined. Beneath the artwork, his skin was red and tender, but that aside, it looked good!

Bart and Jez extended their own arms.

“Hey,” said Bart. “Look, we all got one!”

“They’re exactly the same!” said Jez, examining his forearm.

“Well,
almost
exactly,” Connor said. “Look, Bart’s
got an extra part on his. Just below the swords.”

The others looked more closely.

“He’s right,” said Bart. “What is that?”

“It’s a letter,” Jez said. “The letter
K
.”

Bart looked at it, puzzled. “Why
K
?”

Jez shook his head. “Beats me!”

“I don’t know, either,” Connor
said. It was a mystery. “It’s a cool tattoo, though, isn’t it?”

Jez grinned. “It’s a souvenir of the Three Buccaneers’ first shore leave together!”

“Let’s hope we remember more of the next one, eh?” said Bart. “By the way, does anyone else’s head feel like it’s being split open like a clam?”

“Yes!” cried Jez and Connor simultaneously.

“One for all…” said Bart softly.

“And all for one!” answered the others in little more than a whisper.

The Diablo
had come into its mooring just a little farther out in the bay. It would be easier to steer the lightboat toward it than for the larger ship to come closer into the harbor.

Bart unfastened the ropes tying the small
boat to its mooring and cast them off. Connor took up the tiller once more. As he turned to take a last look at Calle del Marinero, the pain in his head suddenly intensified. He shut his eyes, just for a second. In that moment, a strange jumble of images raced through his mind.

A dingy bar. Two hands locked together. Wheels. A beautiful ship. Playing cards. Grace’s face.
Danger. Underwater. The face of a girl. The flap of a tail. Magic. Underwater. A stingray. A school of yellow fish. And then…darkness.

Connor opened his eyes again, trying to hold on to the images but unable to. They were replaced by Bart’s grin.

“Here’s a little tip for you, buddy. You might find it easier to steer a straight course with your
eyes open.” Bart shrugged. “Just a thought.”

Connor again took hold of the tiller and set his course toward
The Diablo
. His first, mysterious shore leave was officially over.

  

Out in the ocean, a sleek windjammer drifts in the darkness.

Sidorio surveys the deck of
The Lorelei
. The surviving fishtails sit slumped in their chairs. They look weak and wretched. Blood drips from more than one of their oilskins.

“Now,” Sidorio says. “I heard word you needed a new captain and, lucky you, I’m available to take up the post right away.”

He is unfazed by the looks of contempt emanating from Kally, Teahan, Lika, and the other survivors.
Contempt is just one step away from respect in Sidorio’s book. He smiles.

“I was impressed with you today,” he says. “I can see you could be quite a tricky bunch if you raised your game just a notch. You have a few nifty moves. Nice appetite for violence, too. We can work on that, crank it up to the next level.”

He turns, seeing Flynn hobble along the deck toward
him—a broken man. Sidorio shakes his head. “I don’t think we’ll have much need of you, though, Grandpa. Not in the new scheme of things.” He chuckles. “You make yourself comfortable, and we’ll figure out what to do with you later.”

Sidorio looks at the rest of them. He can sense he has their full and undivided attention now. They are petrified of him. Just the way he likes it.

This is the beginning of a new journey. It is an invigorating thought. After all these years at sea—these endless years—Sidorio’s true voyage is at last ready to begin. It’s as if he has woken from the deepest of sleeps. As if he has swum up from the darkest of depths. And before he rests again, everyone who navigates the oceans will know his name. Know it, respect it,
fear
it.
There is much work to be done.

Justin Somper is a bestselling author whose Vampirates books have been translated into more than twenty languages. Justin trained in sword-fighting to help him write the fight scenes in the Vampirates series. He is currently working on a new adventure series,
Enemies of the Prince
, which will be available in 2014.

Justin invites you to visit his website at
www.vampirates.co.uk

Visit our website at
www.vampirateship.com

VAMPIRATES: Demons of the Ocean

 

VAMPIRATES: Tide of Terror

 

VAMPIRATES: Blood Captain

 

VAMPIRATES: Black Heart

 

VAMPIRATES: Empire of the Night

 

VAMPIRATES: Immortal War

 

Copyright

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Copyright © 2013 by Justin Somper
Cover design by Alison Impey. Cover copyright © 2013 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.

All rights reserved. In accordance with the
U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at
[email protected]
. Thank you
for your support of the author’s rights.

Little, Brown and Company
Hachette Book Group
237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017
www.hachettebookgroup.com
www.twitter.com/littlebrown

First e-book edition: January 2013

The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

ISBN 978-0-316-23253-1

Other books

Pagan Fire by Teri Barnett
Breathless by Dakota Harrison
A Brilliant Ride by Mitchell, Lisa J.
Those Who Forget the Past by Ron Rosenbaum
The Curse Defiers by Denise Grover Swank
Landfall by Dawn Lee McKenna