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  A Red Sky Is Upon Us

  Ryan Gilbert

  Copyright

  A Red Sky Is Upon Us

  Copyright © 2015 by Ryan Gilbert

  All rights reserved in all media. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locales, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental or fictionalized.

  To my family and friends who have supported me and inspired me throughout this process…

  Table of Contents

  A RED SKY IS UPON US

  COPYRIGHT

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THE END… FOR NOW

  « COMING SOON »

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Give me the sea;

  Give me the wind.

  Give me a ship

  To plunder the land.

  Steal and lie;

  Steal and lie;

  There are no rules,

  But you will not die.

  Raise the skull and crossbones;

  Bring fear into a man’s soul.

  Shoot and loot, steal his gold;

  Send him down to the depths below.”

  Riggs lay in his hammock as the ship swayed back and forth on the ocean waves. The pirate ship, the Red Sky, had just set sail and all of the men were quite excited to be back on the open sea. After a wild night of drinking rum, nearly all of the crew had either fallen asleep or passed out from drunkenness, leaving Riggs alone to sing his song.

  Riggs laid his head back, letting his scraggly black hair fall across his face. It was his fourth voyage aboard the Red Sky and, by that time, he had become good friends with most of the crew. They had even come up with his nickname because they thought that the name Robert Briggs was too dignified for a pirate. Clint Wayko, the Red Sky’s navigator, had started calling him Riggs on the first voyage, mainly because it was short and easy to say. It had stuck.

  Pirating had been a part of Riggs’ life since he was very young. He had sailed with many pirates, but he had only stayed on their ships for short periods of time. They were always extremely violent, and they seemed to enjoy causing others pain. Riggs only fought when he thought it was necessary. The other crews had never made him feel like he was a part of them. That had changed when he met the crew of the Red Sky.

  They were quite an interesting bunch. Clint was a stubborn drunkard who was quite eager to get rich. He was also quite the superstitious sailor. Coral Jack, the boatswain, liked to push ships to their limits before he would do work to repair them. When Jack did get around to fixing it, the ship would be ready to raid and plunder the next ship they would encounter. Nimrod Dobbs, the doctor, had lost his mind to the sea. Everyone just called him Doc for short. Ripper was the Jamaican master-gunner who always wanted to shoot something. He was a fierce warrior who would stick by his companions to the end. Petey One-Eye, the old quartermaster, had very little organizational skills, yet always knew where everything was. Although the crew would always scold him for his seemingly random placement of objects, he claimed that he would never change his ways. Eli, the carpenter, was the only one who was completely sane. He was always trying to think of a reasonable way to approach something, rather than throwing himself into something about which he knew nothing. When the crew had first met Riggs, they had all befriended the boy, buying him drinks. Believing him to be a stouthearted pirate, they had taken him on board the ship to meet their captain, Captain William Richardson.

  Richardson had not liked Riggs since the moment he met him. He had only allowed the then-teenage boy to stay because he wanted the crew to remain happy. During all of his time on the Red Sky, Riggs had only seen Captain Richardson push his crew to their breaking points. He was rarely ever pleasant to be around and he hardly ever complimented the crew on the work they had done. It was a shame that he was the captain of such a magnificent ship.

  The Red Sky was everything that Riggs had ever thought it would be. It was all black, save the sails, which were dark red. Hence, it was christened the Red Sky. It had thirty-four cannons, more than enough to terrorize English vessels. It had sent many ships to the depths of the sea. Coral Jack put the ship through hell, but he always made sure that it was fixed so that it would be as good as new after a big battle. As more and more days went by, Riggs began to think of the Red Sky as more than a ship. He began to love the ship. He wanted to make it his ship, and with the way the captain acted, Riggs believed that most of the crew would want a new leader as well.

  Riggs wanted to become the most infamous pirate to sail the seven seas and he felt that he had the perfect plan. He had stolen a treasure map from an unconscious sailor before he left on the voyage. If he had the Red Sky in his possession, he could find whatever was hidden on the map. He dared not tell Captain Richardson or he would just be robbed of his infamy. Richardson would just take the map and add it to his own collection of unused maps. If Riggs needed to, he would lead a mutiny to get what he wanted.

  Turning to face Clint in his hammock, Riggs asked, “Clint, are you awake?”

  Clint grumbled drunkenly in his sleep.

  Grabbing a mop, Riggs poked the sleeping man. The navigator swung his arms frantically, trying to find what prodded him out of his rest.

  “Oi… what the devil is the meanin’ o’ this? Can’t a man get some sleep?”

  Riggs snapped his fingers and caught his crewmate’s attention.

  “Riggs, can’t ye see I’m tryin’ to sleep?”

  “I know, mate.”

  “Then why are ye waking me up?” asked Clint, crossing his arms in irritation.

  “I have to ask you somethin’ important.”

  “Bugger. What is it?”

  “You’ve said before that you’ve wanted to be the richest bloke in all the world, right?”

  “Aye.”

  “Most of the men here want to be rich and famous, right?”

  “Aye.”

  “Is the Captain doin’ anythin’ to improve that?”

  Shrugging his shoulders, Clint said, “I guess not. Why?”

  “What would you think about me bein’ the captain of a ship?”

  Half awake, the middle-aged man answered, “Aw, hell, I don’t know. I guess you would be all right, Riggs. Why?”

  Evading the question, Riggs continued, “What about captain of the Red Sky?”

  Sitting bolt upright in his hammock, Clint whispered, “Boy, what are you bloody thinking? Don’t even think about mutiny. Nothing good comes from a mutiny, Riggs.”

  “Did I say mutiny?” asked Riggs sarcastically.

  “Ye didn’t need to say it. How else would you get the Red Sky under your control?”

  Riggs rubbed his scruffy chin, smiling to himself at the prospect of replacing Richardson. Clint, however, saw the look on his crewmate’s face and shook his head.

  “There be a place in the depths of the sea saved ‘specially for mutineers. You don’t want to be scorned by your brethren, now do ye?” asked the navigator.

  “If it makes me a greater pirate than I already am, I’d mutiny on six ships. Work on the Red Sky is not improvin’. T
he Captain is pushin’ us like slaves and we have gotten fewer and fewer riches with each voyage. Is it really makin’ us better pirates if we stay with Richardson?”

  Shushing his friend, Clint whispered, “Keep yer voice down, Riggs. You can’t be speaking about this out loud.”

  “Just give me an honest answer, Clint. Are you with me?”

  After some contemplation, Clint turned over in his bed and murmured, “Riggs, shut up and let me go to sleep. I have to wake up at sunrise. Don’t get me worked up with all o’ yer mutiny hogwash.”

  As Clint fell asleep, Riggs slipped out of his hammock and sneaked down to the lower decks, where the rum was stored. Finding a dusty bottle, he pried the cork out with his knife and sat on a barrel to drink. After taking a swig of rum, he pulled out his treasure map and unfolded it in his lap. Many islands were laid out on the map, many of which he knew. However, in the center of the map lay a small island, an island that Riggs had neither heard of nor seen. A drawing of a mermaid was next to the island and the waters looked as though they were turning black as they neared the island. He had seen black waters when he had first started pirating. It signaled to others that that area was cursed and that nobody should be sailing those waters. Add mermaids to the equation and that spelled ill fortune right away. Mermaids were as evil as they were beautiful. They were the temptresses of the sea. Sailors fell for their charm and were never heard from again.

  Usually, black waters and mermaids were enough to deter any pirate, but not Riggs. He had learned that, in order to be recognized, a pirate had to do some crazy things. While he was a little bit afraid, he knew that the payoff would be tremendous. Still, all he needed was the ship.

  Sticking the bottle back in its nook, Riggs said to himself, “Captain Robert Briggs. I like the sound o’ that.”

  Slowly, he made his way back to his bed. Climbing into it, he pulled his hat over his eyes as he began to feel very sleepy. Kicking off his dirty boots, he threw his coat over his feet and fell asleep within moments.

  In his dreams, Riggs saw jewels, gold, silver, ultimate riches, and infamy. It was all flashing before his eyes. His mouth watered with the promise of shiny treasure. He could almost reach out and touch the gleaming jewels. They were just inches from his fingertips. It seemed so real… so shiny… so beautiful.

  “Get out of bed, you scurvy dirtbags. Up and at ‘em.”

  Riggs fell out of his hammock onto the floor. The voice of Captain Richardson was enough to throw anyone out of their bed. His appearance was even more terrifying. No one wanted to have him come down the stairs into the sleeping quarters, with his beard and dark coat flapping in the breeze. His stare could make a full-grown man stop in his tracks and cower in fear. Riggs quickly threw a shirt over his head and tucked it into his belt. Grabbing his boots, he hopped up onto the deck and waited to be told his duties for the day. His plans would have to be scrapped for the moment, but the time would come. He knew it would.

  In the colony of Yorktown, the citizens were just waking up as the morning sun shone brightly in their eyes. Hundreds of Englishmen woke from their slumber for another day of honest labor. The Crown had treated them well.

  Sunlight poured into the room as Julia woke from a long night’s sleep. Sitting up in her bed, she stretched her limbs, combed her long brown hair out of her eyes, and let them adjust to the light of day. Slipping into a robe, Julia made her way to the window and pulled it open.

  Through the window of the mansion, she could see the bustling city of Yorktown, Virginia. It was quite a sight to behold. The magnificent houses of the rich lined the countryside as the less fortunate resided down by the port. The blue sky and the sea were at times indistinguishable. English patrols were always walking the streets, their bright red coats drawing the eye. Docked in the port were some of the largest and grandest ships in the English navy. Being able to wake up every morning and stare at those glorious white sails would always instill a sense of pride in an Englishman’s heart. He knew that those leviathans of justice would always be there to defend him and his family. For Julia, the Navy ships gave her more pride than anyone else. She was the daughter of a commodore.

  Julia Hamond, daughter of Commodore Matthew Hamond and his wife Catherine, had been told many times by her father exactly what the English Navy went through to keep the colonies safe. She had heard of the stress of battle. She had heard of the dreadful pirates that roamed the seas. She had heard of how some had met their end at her father’s hand. She had sat and eagerly listened to her father’s stories every time his ship came back to port. She was quite proud of her father.

  After she had gotten dressed, she went downstairs to wait for her breakfast to be served. Both her mother and father were already there.

  “Good morning, dear,” said her mother.

  “My, my. You certainly slept for a long time, Julia. It’s nearly nine o’clock,” laughed the Commodore.

  Laughing along with her father, Julia responded, “Yes, I was quite tired. The suitor that I was seeing kept me out late last night.”

  “I hope not too late, dear,” said her mother.

  “Decidedly not,” Julia mumbled under her breath.

  “Didn’t you enjoy his company?” asked her father, catching his daughter’s remark.

  “Actually, I daresay he was quite revolting. He smelled of fish and foul drink the whole night, and he would not stop talking about himself. I couldn’t stand another moment of his arrogance.”

  “Perhaps you should give him another chance, my dear. After all, he was likely just trying to impress you.”

  “Impress me? Singing your own praises is not what I want to listen to for an entire evening. I’m better off finding someone else.”

  As the food was brought from the kitchen, Commodore Hamond sighed.

  “Julia, nearly all of the respectable young men of Yorktown have come seeking an audience with you. For various reasons, you have dismissed nearly all of them within the first few days of courtship. You’re a twenty-three year old woman. What kind of man do you wish to wed if you’re going to be so picky?”

  Taking a small sip of water, Julia answered, “To tell you the truth, father, I want a man like you. I want a man who is courageous… daring… kind… caring… loyal… adventurous.”

  Smiling, Commodore Hamond said, “That is delightful, Julia, but perhaps you should remain open to other kinds of men as well. Very few people meet all of those criteria.”

  “A girl can dream, can’t she?” questioned Julia.

  Her father shrugged his shoulders as he said, “Of course you can, my dear.”

  At this, Catherine Hamond interjected, “Matthew, isn’t there a young man under your command who is around Julia’s age?”

  “You wouldn’t happen to be speaking about Daniel Travers, would you?” asked Julia, rolling her eyes.

  “I do believe I am. Why is that, dear?”

  “Well, it’s just that Daniel and I have been friends for years. I think it would feel a little strange if he were to express any romantic interest in me.”

  Looking to her father, she continued, “Then there is also the fact that he is a lieutenant under you, father. I can only imagine what that’s done for him.”

  The Commodore gave a hearty laugh and replied, “If anything, it improved the boy.”

  “I’m sure it did, father. I mean, he is a lieutenant after all.”

  Julia’s father shook his head and said, “Trust me, rank is not everything. If you were to remember anything that I’ve taught you, remember this. There is always more to a man than meets the eye.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, father. Thank you.”

  The conversation ended as the servers brought out some delectable dishes for breakfast. All during the meal, Julia could not help but try to picture her ideal suitor. She always envisioned him as a dashingly handsome fellow, always dressed in the finest clothes. He would spoil her so much she would beg him to stop. He would always be there to stand by her si
de, and he would always defend her from the evil people in the world.

  Julia snapped out of her fantasy after she absentmindedly took a sip of steaming hot tea. The sudden heat roused her so that she was now completely alert.

  “Please excuse me. I need to go and freshen up,” she said hastily, setting the teacup back on its plate.

  “Don’t take too long, Julia. My men would like to leave at a reasonable time,” chuckled her father.

  She laughed and quickly made her way upstairs. Her father would be leaving for another voyage with the English navy, and she did not want to look shabby and unkempt. There might even be some handsome sailors at the casting-off ceremony. Rank did not mean anything to her, but she could at least try to be noticed by a respectable officer.

  “Swab that deck! Tie those ropes! Haul up that anchor before I feed you to the fishes!”

  Riggs was about to fall to the ground from exhaustion. Captain Richardson had been making the crew work without a break for several hours. Sweat was pouring down all of the pirates’ faces. They could not stand the pressure.

  Looking around, Riggs spotted Ripper and Coral Jack hiding behind a cannon. Sneaking over to them, he flopped onto the ground, hidden from the Captain’s view. Both of them looked as though they were ready to faint.

  “Mornin’, Riggs. What brings you to this side of Hell?” asked Coral Jack.

  “Listen hea’, man. I cannot do dis’ much work. De’ only work I enjoy is de’ work dat involves de’ big guns,” said Ripper as he wiped beads of sweat from his black skin.

  Tossing his rag to the ground, Riggs rested his head against a cannon wheel. These men were really upset. Surely, they would be open to a change of leadership.

  “I hear what you fellas are sayin’ and I sympathize with you completely. You ain’t happy with how the Captain is runnin’ this here ship, are you?”

  “Aye.”

  “Aye.”

  “Alrighty. Well, I was talkin’ to Clint last night while all of you maggots were passed out…”