Second on the Right (34 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Los

Tags: #pirate, #time, #pan, #neverland, #hook

BOOK: Second on the Right
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James said to him, “Impossible. They can't
grow that large, can they?”

Benedict had no response. He had never seen
one that large. In the water, the crocodile, nearly twenty meters
long, ticked and hissed. The sounds were eerily similar to a
clock.

Benedict and James peered down again at the
beast. The crocodile thrashed and clawed its way partially up the
side of the
Mistral Thief
. Sweat dampened James’ brow.
Benedict looked at Peter, who was now dangling the remaining
portion of what he assumed was James' right hand over the side of
the ship. The crocodile leapt from the water, greatly desiring
either the hand of James or James himself.

Both James and Benedict cringed, though it
was James that moved away from the railing. The scratching of the
crocodile's claws on the side of the ship seemed to make him
tremble. Peter laughed maniacally, and tossed James’ hand to the
crocodile.

“You’ve been using it for bait?” James looked
at Peter, horror and disgust evident on his face. “This is all a
game to you.”

Pan. He hasn’t aged. Should I tell
James?
Benedict thought. His eyes shifted in James’ direction.
He needs to know.

James pointed his sword at Peter. "What do
you want?" He shouted.

Peter unsheathed his knife, circling around
the deck. James followed suit. Occasionally, Peter would tap the
end of his sword. However, Benedict knew James was a man of
indomitable courage. James held his sword steady, firmly in his
left hand, his hook slightly hidden behind him. His eyes were cold
as steel. At that moment, James appeared to be in complete control
of his emotions and actions. Benedict couldn’t help but beam
proudly at what he had done for James.

"What do I want?" Peter asked himself
thoughtfully. He looked back at James, his eyes glowing faintly
red. "I want you to pay," but he stopped. "Then again, perhaps you
are suffering a bit. After all, I'm finding your son to be a
delicious addition to my lost boys." He ended this with a slight
hiss.

“I’ve done nothing to you,” James replied. “I
believe you’re the one that will pay for taking my family.”

Benedict subtly moved closer to James. He
could see how the boy was manipulating James, using the loss of
Eileen and Robbie to rile him to the point of pure rage. Benedict
knew all too well how easy it was to make James angry.

"Jas," he said in quiet warning, seeing
James' shoulders rise and fall more frequently.

James voice wavered, “What are you?"

Benedict hesitated to offer his knowledge.
What would it serve but to merely fan the flame the boy had
started. Quietly he said to James, "Me thinks he's Pete, a boy I
met years ago. Feeds off humans."

"Explain, please," James murmured to
Benedict, not taking his eyes off Peter.

"Not quite o’ changeling. Thought ta be mere
legend, but I’d seen it with me own eyes. A powerful creature,
though from what world, I'm not sure. Feeds off tha young, slow and
sure ta stay alive. No doubt, yer boy be one he's feedin' on," he
explained.

Peter held a penetrating gaze at Benedict.
"Oooohh. You're a rather smart one, aren't you? But I am at a
disadvantage. You seem to know me, but I do not recognize you." The
boy’s face scrunched up in contemplation until he seemed to have an
epiphany, “The one who set me free! You’re so…old!”

James looked over at the captain. “You set
him free?” he whispered angrily. “Why am I not surprised?”

Benedict did his best to avoid eye contact.
He knew he would have to explain all of this later.
Perhaps
he’ll forget. Not likely though.

"It's true." Peter said with a grinned. "I
did feed on her. The red hair had to go." He made a violent motion
as he spoke.

"Jas," Benedict warned, seeing James tense,
the muscles in his jaw tightened.

James waved him off, stepping forward.

Peter continued. "Her white skin, so soft and
supple. Her screams of terror and pain, delicious. Oh, she was
wonderful!" He paused for a moment, then finished, "Particularly
the chewy center within." With the last sentence, his wicked eyes
fell on James.

James screamed in anguish. He charged for
Peter. Benedict reached out to stop him, but he was too slow. Peter
flew up to the top of the mast. James, whose momentum had gotten
the better of him, teetered at the rail. The crocodile waited
eagerly below. James grunted in an effort to push himself back.

Peter howled in laughter, pointing, mocking
and pantomiming actions as if he were James falling over the
railing. James ran to the ropes, set to climb. Benedict shouted,
but James didn’t hear. Not being heeded, he and a few crewmen
pounced on him, holding him down.

"Take him ta me quarters!" he barked at the
bo'sun. They held James, who thrashed violently. It took five men
to drag James into the captain's quarters and slam the doors shut.
Benedict addressed Peter, "Ye best be leavin' now, or ye be facin'
my wrath."

Peter shrugged off the threat. "I have no
quarrel with you, old man." He jumped off the mast, floating high
above. "Tell him I'll be waiting, in Neverland." And he flew
off.

Benedict rubbed his sore eyes. "I'm gettin'
too old fer this."

At his quarters, Benedict’s hand stopped at
the door. James' screams of rage could be heard from within.
Benedict opted to take his time. Making a course adjustment, he
continued towards El Tiburón.

Chapter 3
6

The mountainous and rocky terrain of El
Tiburón was located on the northern coast of a remote island. Dense
lofty trees grew throughout. The port was located on the southern
coast, the least rocky terrain of the entire island. It was here
that most of the population lived. El Tiburón was a hazy town by
the sea. It was often frequented by pirates and other criminals.
Considered one of the last free ports, it was one of the few places
in the Caribbean not under foreign control.

The
Mistral Thief
anchored offshore.
Leaving a skeleton crew on board, Captain Benedict and crew members
went ashore for some much needed rest and relaxation. Regulars of
the local bar, the crew made themselves at home. Rowdy and drunk,
they laughed, fought, and sang their way through the night. Captain
Benedict sought something more intimate, and disappeared upstairs
to spend time with one of the local women.

In the meantime, James took a long walk on
the outskirts of town.
The police said they had found nothing.
They found nothing.

Experiencing a pang in his heart, his arms
instinctively reached up to his chest. He was met with cold metal
against his skin. The hook. He had almost forgotten about it,
having grown used to the feel of the harness around his shoulder
and the cap of the hook around the stump of his right arm. He
sighed deeply. Eileen was dead. He was fooling himself if he
thought otherwise. She said the boy mentioned needing Robbie, not
her. Hoping to forget about the loss of his family or the newness
of the hook, James purchased a bottle of brandy from one of the
town’s merchants and took up drinking in the streets. He was deep
in sorrowful thought when Steede nearly ran into him.

"Sorry sir!"

"Quite all right, Steede. What's the rush?"
James asked, not particularly wanting to know why, but asking more
out of habit.

"'Eadin' for a drink," he replied excitedly.
A latecomer, he had just left the
Mistral Thief
having
finished what chores he had remaining. "I 'ear the cap'in is 'avin
o' bit o' fun, eh?" he grinned slyly.

James shrugged, not really knowing or caring
where Benedict was or what he might be doing. "I imagine he's
drinking like the rest."

Steede gave a surprised look, then said
seriously, "Oh no sir, not tha cap'in. 'e aint wantin' drink." Then
he grinned, his lack of dental hygiene evident. "The cap'in is
partial ta bar maiden's. Well any maiden ach'ly, when they've 'ad
much ta drink! Makes 'em easier targets, eh? More willin' ta bed
with that ugly bloke!" He finished in a roar of laughter.

James had been in mid-stride when he froze as
the last few sentences sank in. "Drunk? Easier targets?" James
raised an eyebrow. Steede was still laughing. James’ eyes narrowing
as he asked, "Steede…exactly
how often
does the captain do
this?"

Steede stopped for a moment to consider, then
exaggerated, "Oh, I imagine as oft' in a day as 'e can. Any chance
'e can!"

James mumbled to himself, "Easy targets,
easier to bed."

The color in James’ face drained as his mind
flashed back to the night he had found Eileen intoxicated, Benedict
in the kitchen with her.

"
No!
" he said in a hushed tone.

He remembered she was extremely drunk. She
had made advances towards him, but he had refused, not wanting to
take advantage of her in that state.

What was it she had said?
He thought
for a moment, straining to recall that night.

She had a coy smile and he had missed her so
much he couldn’t resist a passionate kiss, but he was a gentleman,
so nothing else happened. Yet, the next day, he recalled she had
said something he had not given a second thought to until now.

James…thank you for apologizing. But you
really didn't have to this morning. You more than made up for it
last night.

His mouth fell open slightly. "More than made
up for it," he began as the realization set it. He had slept the
entire night,
he
had done nothing. "More than made up for
it?" He had done nothing, so
who
exactly had made up for his
mistake that night. "Easier targets, easier to bed. He slept with
her," he concluded.

"Huh?" Steede stupidly asked, having no idea
to what James was referring.

"That bastard slept with my wife!" he
shouted, pushing Steede aside and marching towards the bar.

James slammed the door of the bar open. He
pushed his way roughly past crewmen. Images of Benedict intimate
with Eileen came unbidden to his mind, increasing his rage.

"Benedict!" he shouted. "Where’s Benedict?"
No one seemed to note the emotion James was showing.

One crewman shouted, "'e's on 'is secon'
round!"

This comment was followed by a roar of
laughter. Another pirate lifted a glass in a manner of a toast, "To
Benedict!" The group lifted their mugs and shouted in unison,
"'Secon' round!" This comment was followed by additional
cheers.

Disgusted with Benedict and his men, James
bounded up the stairs, two at a time, rushing up to the second
floor. He was furious at the thought of the captain having seduced
his wife. It called into question whether Robbie was truly his
son.

Is he my son?
He clenched his jaw, his
eyes closing tight for a moment.
How stupid I've been! Robbie
isn't my son!

He should have realized when Eileen had
suggested naming their son Robert, she was naming him after his
true father, Captain Robert Benedict. "Arrgh!" he screamed, kicking
open the door of the room where the captain was located.

Benedict spun around. He had finished
buckling his chest belt and grabbed his sword, unsheathing it. A
naked woman lay covered by a sheet in the bed, unsurprised by the
interruption.

"You bastard!" James shouted at Benedict,
heaving for breath after his run up the stairs.

The captain, unfazed, looked at the woman in
the bed and motioned for her to leave. She looked at him in
confusion. He sighed deeply, rolling his eyes.

"Time ta go, wench," he said patronizingly,
giving her a polite smile.

She ran out of the room, sloppily wrapped in
the sheet, but not humiliated. Apparently, she was used to this
behavior. "All in a day's work, love," she said to James as she ran
out and down the hall to another room.

Benedict shoved his pistol in his belt,
eyeing James all the while. He waited. James had stood aside for
the woman to leave and then slammed the door. Benedict's eyebrow
rose, mirth in his eyes.

"You pig!" James continued, the candlelight
reflecting off his brandished hook. He was hissing through his
teeth.

"Mind your tongue, boy," Benedict said in a
low voice, the playful look having left his eyes.

"She was drunk. Drunk and vulnerable and you,
you took advantage of her virtue!" James continued to yell.
Pointing his cutlass, he said, his voice growing hoarse. "You
bastard! You will pay for what you've done."

Benedict chuckled at the thought, lazily
pointing his sword at James, while holding a small dagger in his
left hand. With a grin, he replied, "She was anythin' but
virtuous."

With a scream, James leapt forward, swiping
his sword at Benedict. The move was easily blocked. "If ye want
'er, ye can have 'er. I have no need for 'er now!" He laughed.

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