Free Firebrand by Antony John

flatly.
    â€œAnd what kind of host are you?” He pushed Kell aside. “I’m Chief,” he told me. “It’s what everyone’s always called me, so you may as well do the same.”
    â€œThomas,” I answered.
    Chief crouched down. He flicked his head at the ship behind me. “Where’s the rest of your crew, Thomas?”
    I looked over my shoulder. From here, it looked almost like a ghost ship. “There aren’t many of us. Some of the adults are weak.”
    Chief’s expression shifted. The guns edged closer.
    â€œIt’s not Plague,” I added hastily. “Just injuries. Hunger.”
    â€œWhat about the body you threw overboard this morning? We saw it, you know.”
    Everything came rushing back: Eleanor crashing onto the deck, her broken body, the blood. I shivered. “There was a storm last night. She fell from the top of the mast.”
    He sat back on his haunches. “I’m sorry. How old was she?”
    â€œEighteen.” The word caught in my throat.
    â€œAnd you, Thomas?”
    â€œSixteen.”
    â€œSixteen,” he repeated. “You’ve never known another world than this, you poor thing.” He offered me his hand. “Come on. I may look frail, but I can still pull you out. Especially as my men seem to have forgotten their manners.”
    True to his word, he was surprisingly strong. His biceps bulged as he strong-armed me out of the water and onto the jetty. “So you’ve come as refugees, I assume.”
    I nodded. “We need your help.”
    He cast an eye over me. I was taller than him and some of the other men, but I must have cut a pathetic and bedraggled figure, dripping onto the sun-bleached wooden jetty. “I can see that,” he said.
    He flicked his wrist and the men who had continued to point their weapons retreated. “Listen, son. We have almost fifty men, women, and children here on Sumter. We are Plague-free and self-sufficient. And the truth is, the state of your crew has me nervous.”
    â€œIt’s not Pla—”
    He raised a hand to stop me. “I heard you the first time. I believe you too. You’ve got an honest face, and I’ve seen plenty of men over the years that don’t. But I need to protect these people, Thomas. They were refugees too, once. So I’m going to need to inspect your ship.” He let the words sink in. “Would that be all right with you?”
    The answer was no. My father’s injuries weren’t the kind you got from an onboard accident. And locked inside Dare’s cabin were books and maps we couldn’t explain. But I knew what I had to say. “Yes. Of course.”
    Chief clapped his hands and waved his men toward a cutter on the other side of the jetty. Now that the situation was resolved, faces reappeared over the battlements—not just eyes and noses, but heads and shoulders.
    â€œComing, Thomas?” asked Chief, motioning toward the cutter.
    â€œYes.” But my eyes remained locked on two faces in particular: a boy about my age, and a girl who was a few years younger. They regarded me with serious expressions, their dark skin standing out against the collection of white faces. One eye closed, the boy raised a finger and then pointed it at me as if he was taking aim. When he jerked it upward suddenly, I realized what it meant. He was pretending to shoot me, as though I was as good as dead.
    Â»Â«
    The cutter slipped through the water. I sat at the stern and watched Kell watching me. He hadn’t dared to cross Chief, which emphasized how powerful the older man was. It didn’t mean he trusted me, though.
    Everyone except my father had gathered beside the ship’s starboard rail. It wasn’t exactly a welcoming party; more like a sign of how desperate they were to get off the ship. Griffin lowered a rope for us, and Chief removed a rope ladder from the cutter’s hold. He tied it to