Mackenzie gripped the rail, digging his nails in, scratching at the metal. His limbs felt tightly strung, like the ropes of a taut sail – any tighter and they might break. He needed his painkillers. He needed his opiates. He needed to get off this boat . . .

‘You’ve got the look about you,’ said Tranquil, stepping up beside him. ‘You’re gonna try to escape.’

Mackenzie kept silent. All his bruises felt sore anew next to the man who’d inflicted them.

‘It’s okay. I would too.’ Tranquil spoke low. ‘Blackbeard has some bad things planned for you. Says she’s finally gonna make a man out of you.’

That comment made Mackenzie’s blood fizz with anger. That woman . . . he would never forgive her. He’d hate her until his dying day.

‘But hey, I’m feeling generous.’ Tranquil spun to lean against the railing, arms nonchalantly folded behind his neck. ‘I just don’t trust Blackbeard to not change her mind about you. She’s big on “family is family”. I’m already her second-in-command – I don’t need you coming in and fucking that up for me. Davey will be bad enough.’ He gestured back to shore. ‘You think you can swim that far?’

‘You’d help me?’ He said the words before he realised it must be a trick.

‘I’d help myself,’ corrected Tranquil. ‘You know how it is. I mean, the best outcome for me is you drown on the way. But Blackbeard wouldn’t like me killing you, so the only other option is you conveniently escape, and run far, far away and never come back. Like the coward we all know you are . . .’ He grinned, his eyes intense.

‘Is there scuba gear?’ said Mackenzie.

‘Yeah. At the back.’ He gestured to the stern of the ship. ‘Want me to create a distraction for you?’

Before Mackenzie could answer, a low hum echoed across the deck.

Tranquil sprang into action, genuinely alarmed. ‘Black Wind incoming!’ he shouted, sending the boat into a scurry of activity.

Mackenzie felt a tremor run through him.

‘Couldn’t ask for a better distraction than that,’ said Tranquil. ‘Let’s go, mate.’

Tranquil dragged him to the rear of the boat, where a bolted-in stand offered oxygen tanks, vest, fins. No wetsuits, though.

‘No suit, but you’ll be okay,’ said Tranquil. ‘It’s not that far.’

Mackenzie knew that hypothermia could kill you just as well as drowning. But he hadn’t come this far to give up now.

Mackenzie pulled on fins and a mask, while Tranquil attached an oxygen tank and BC to a diving vest, then helped Mack slip into it. He stepped up to the edge, unclipping the cable that guarded the gap in the rails over the hull-side ladder. Below, the crests of the waves were sharper than before, textured with weird ripples. He swallowed his fear, remembering the last time he’d swum in the Black Wind.