BooksBarbecue
Back The Abyss Surrounds Us
Chapters (37)
  1. Dedication
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. Acknowledgments
  37. About the Author

And what was I, to start with? These pirates may be captors and thieves, but they only kill the people who fight back. Their murders are defensive. Every Reckoner attack I’ve ever facilitated was meant to be utter annihilation. I think of the cabin boys, the cooks, the people on this ship who never lift a finger against us. If I turned a Reckoner on this boat right now, they’d fare no differently than the captain herself.

Swift is right.

Santa Elena is right.

My life’s a waking nightmare, and the dead boy’s bed I’m lying in is just the icing on the cake.

Bao can go the rest of the day without any supervision. Sure, it’s an interruption in his training regimen, but so is being fed a traitorous lackey. My stomach aches and my head is throbbing. I should get up. I should go to the mess and scrounge up some food.

Instead I curl up in Code’s bed and will myself to sleep, trying to ignore the voices outside, the engines below, and somewhere off in the distance, the calls of the monster I raised.

22

22

I wake in a muddled, overslept haze to the all-call crackling on. “We’ll be docking with the Flotilla in three hours,” a voice announces. I still haven’t figured out which of the crew lends her voice to the announcements. “Report to stations for instructions.”

I roll over, and my empty stomach keens.

Two minutes later, someone pounds on the door. “Cas, I know you’re in there,” Swift calls. Her voice is choked and hollow, like she’s holding something back. She’s probably holding a lot back. “Captain wants you on the bridge. Got you some food and shit. Leaving it here. See you in five.”

I wait until her footsteps fade down the hall before crossing to the hatch and yanking it open. Sitting outside in a neat pile is a water bottle, a few protein bars, and a set of clothes that, under closer inspection, appear to be almost folded. I gather them up and lock the door behind me.

I make my way up to the navigation tower a few minutes later, still chewing on the protein bars, which must have been sitting in the Minnow’s stock for all five of the years that Swift’s been aboard this ship. Crew members rush back and forth around me, making preparations for the docking. They hardly notice me. I guess I’ve finally become part of the landscape.