New Storm Rising

02. The Ship on a Leisure Cruise to Hell

Around twenty-five miles to the west, on the roiling ocean, a ship was having navigation problems. Most of them stemmed from the fact that the passengers were trying to kill the crew.

"Who the hell let those slaves out of their cages? Knock 'em out before—aagh!"

A plank slammed into the fat man's face, throwing him back against the wall and knocking him clean out. The young black man wielding it, who, judging by the way his ribs protruded, had to have gone through the world's most gruesome diet, seemed to consider another hit to the man's bollocks, then decided to conserve his energy and just bent down, pulling the keys of the unconscious slaver's belt. Rushing over to a nearby door, he pulled back the latch and threw it open, whereupon dozens of equally miserable dark-skinned figures in rags looked up at him, stunned.

"What are you waiting for?" the young man hollered. "Out! Move!"

A moment passed in silence—then the people sprang to their feet, only to be dragged down immediately by the chains wrapped around their ankles. Rushing forward, the young man jammed a key into the corresponding lock, setting the first man free. Then the second. Then the third. Slowly, disbelievingly rising to their feet, they stumbled out into the corridor.

Moments later, a door above banged, and footsteps thundered down a narrow set of wooden stairs. A gaggle of men burst into the corridor, looking even more ragged and miserable than the others, with wounds scattered all over their bodies, and sweat drenching the rags they wore for clothes. There were two crucial differences, however. Number one, the weapons in their hands. Number two, the look in their eyes, which were burning with fierce fire.

"We've done it!" a huge man at the front roared, swinging a massive cudgel in the air that looked suspiciously like a broken-off bedpost. "We've beaten those Spanish bastards! Did you hear that, Itoro, you little weasel?"

"Great, Kojo!" Beaming from one ear to another, the young man strode forward. "Everyone, it's all right! It's just Kojo! Everything is fine!"

The recently-released slaves, who had stiffened with apprehension, sagged in relief against the wall.

"Let's go up on the deck, everyone!" Kojo shouted. "We've been cooped up in this hellhole long enough. I wanna breathe some fresh sea air!"

He stormed towards the stairs, and, after a moment or two, the crowd began to follow. An eerie silence hung over everyone, as if none dared to speak for fear they would wake up from this dream. Only when they stepped onto the deck did a whisper spread among the men and women.

"Did...did that really happen?"

"Did we really do it?"

"We...we're free?"

"We're free!"

"Free! Hahahaha, we're free! Free!"

Cheers rose above the crowd, and chains and shackles flew into the air, sailing over the railing and vanishing into the ocean. It took quite a while for everyone to calm down enough for Itoro to make himself heard.

"Hey, Kojo! Kojo, come over here!"

Everyone quieted down, watching the two heroes who had led them to freedom.

"What did you do with the whites?" Itoro asked. "Specifically the sailors. Did you lock them away, like I asked you to?"

Kojo snorted "Better! I tried to play nice for your sake, you damn pacifist, but..." Grinning, the mountain of onyx muscle patted his cudgel. "Those bastards were being stubborn, so I smashed their heads in!"

Itoro blinked.

"And the first mate?"

"He was being stubborn, too."