I woke up on something hard, damp, and lumpy with a sharp pain in my right elbow and my butt. As I tried to sit up, it became glaringly apparent that my head hurt too, like I'd somehow ended up on the wrong side of a baseball bat.
With a groan, I tried to pull myself into a sitting position, pressing my hands against the cold, gritty rock surface beneath me.
The sound of water echoed all around me, bouncing off the walls of... wherever I was.
What the hell…?
I looked around, trying to figure it out. Trying to make it make sense. But it was dark.
Beside me, a sliver of white light caught my eye. It was my phone, the flashlight on and its brightness trying to escape the confines of the rocky slab that it lay on.
As I picked it up, the light blinded me and nausea hit me like a punch to the gut. My head swam and spun and I nearly dropped my phone again in my desperation to make the light go away.
I pressed the flashlight against my leg to mute the glare, though the screen itself wasn't much better as it seared into my retinas.
Shit, okay, so what now? The light was killing me. It made me feel sick, but I needed it if I was going to try and figure out where I was.With my eyes squinted in an attempt to let as little light in as possible, I turned off the flashlight and dimmed the screen, then tried to use that as a source of light to try and get a better idea of where the fuck I was without blinding myself again.
Of course, it didn’t work. It wasn’t bright enough.
Fuck.
With a groan, I turned the screen brightness up all the way, making a point of facing it away from me.A cave... I was in a cave. How the fuck did I get in a cave?!
My skull was pounding, seemingly only made worse by each and every movement I made. I reached for the back of my head, which was where the pain seemed to be radiating from, only for my fingertips to come away wet and sticky with blood.
Great. Just fucking great. I'm in a cave, all by myself, with no idea how I got here and to top it all off, I have a fucking head injury. Good job, Morgan. Pro move.
Then a terrifying thought suddenly struck me. Was I really all by myself? Sure, there was no one around as far as I could see, but that didn't necessarily mean I was alone... What if I had been abducted and hit over the head and my captor had left me here, but they could return at any moment?!
The panic kicked in, fast and furious and my heart began to hammer in my chest. The increased blood flow to my brain only made my head throb even more.
I took a deep breath, trying to gain some semblance of control over the situation.
Rule one, don't panic. Dad's famous words. What else would Dad have told me to do?
My mind was a whirl of fuzzy, half-baked thoughts that led me absolutely nowhere.
Jesus, did I have some kind of brain injury?! Did I have amnesia?!
Think, Morgan! Think!
Okay… How did I get here? Even if I had been abducted, I had to remember something, right? Who was I with? What was the last thing I could remember?
I tried to send my thoughts back, but it felt like I was swimming through molasses, and nothing made any sense.
A pink dress…
There was a pink dress. I was wearing a pink dress... Why was I wearing a pink dress?
A snippet of a conversation. My brother... "You should go. Make the most of our time here," he had said. He was smiling and wearing a suit.
I should go where? Our time where? Where were we? Where was I?
Looking around the cavern again, I tried to see if I could spot any way in or out through the darkness. I climbed to my feet, my legs feeling wobbly beneath me. As I stood, I nearly lost my footing on a slippery patch of rock, catching myself on the wall just in time.
I looked down at the slimy green algae with narrowed eyes, feeling like I had solved at least part of the puzzle.
I’d slipped here, hadn’t I? I’d slipped right here and fallen and hit my head.
Okay, great. But I still didn't know why I was here…
The realization that it was more likely that I had done this to myself rather than having been abducted by some psychotic predator who had bludgeoned me with a bat was somewhat heartening. At least I didn't have to be on high alert that there was some creep lurking around the corner.
Well… I hoped not.
I turned around and there, behind me, I saw what appeared to be the faint remnants of daylight filtering through a smallish tunnel. The only problem was that the tunnel was filling up with water... fast.
Perfect. Just perfect. My escape route was a death trap. Great.
How did I even get in here? I would NEVER have gone through a tunnel that was filling up with water. I wasn't that stupid.
I felt my clothes... dry. But after bending forward to inspect my knees and nearly losing my balance thanks to my throbbing headache throwing my equilibrium off, I felt the remnants of sand on them.
Had I crawled through the tunnel BEFORE it had started filling with water?
Another memory came flooding back, but it was choppy and fuzzy. A group of people about my age... A boy... my heart fluttered as his face flashed through my mind. A cave. We were here to explore a cave.
Thank God... It was coming back to me. But I still couldn't quite understand how I got here on my own. It definitely wasn't like me to wander off by myself in a place that could be dangerous.
Alright, so I was here with people. I must have somehow gotten separated from them, but they would realize, right? They would come looking for me. Mark would come looking for me.
Mark... the boy whose face made my heart flutter.
But if the tunnel was filling with water, how would they get to me?
I looked at the rock wall I was using to support myself and lifted my phone screen to inspect it. There was a clear waterline on it, so it seemed pretty clear that the water wouldn't fill the cavern up entirely. I shouldn't drown. Maybe I could just wait it out? I could wait it out... It would be what? About twelve hours until the tide went out?
I could do twelve hours, right? It would suck, but I wasn't going to die. I could swim... maybe hold onto a rock? Or maybe I could see if there was a higher point I could get to that would keep me out of the water?
Looking around the cavern with my phone screen as a light source, I could make out that it was larger than I had thought. More vast than the limited brightness of my screen could make out.
The water was steadily rising and beginning to creep up to where I was standing now. Just up ahead, something sparkly caught my eye. Crystals.
This was some kind of crystal cavern. I'd crawled through the tunnel to see it, but it hadn’t been fucking waterlogged at that point.
I'd thought they would follow me... at least Mark.
Okay, so I had some options. I could wait here for rescue or for the tide to go out so that I could rescue myself, or I could venture further into the cave.
Wait. Definitely wait. If I waited, they would know where to come looking for me. I knew the way out for when the tide went out again. If I ventured further into the cave, I risked falling into holes or slipping on more algae or smashing my head on another rock.
No... I knew the risks here, and that seemed safer than venturing off into the unknown.
I also wasn't exactly dressed for deep cave exploration. I was wearing a bikini with shorts and a tank top and, what had seemed like the logical choice at the time, flip-flops. In hindsight, I could have kicked myself for not wearing hiking boots and at least a jacket or something. I could already feel the air in the cave cooling down as the tide rolled in.
But I did have a head injury. Was it serious? I couldn't really tell. My memories seemed to be coming back, albeit in drips and drabs, so that felt like a good sign.
Still, I was bleeding and I wasn't sure whether I'd done any serious damage. Did that mean that this was an emergency? Like, was time of the essence here if I wanted to keep my brain from hemorrhaging or something?
Ugh.
With a sigh, I made my decision.
I’d wait it out. Dad would tell me to wait.
I settled down, my back pressed against the cold cave wall as I looked out over the swirling water. Out of curiosity, I locked my screen to turn off the light and was assaulted by a darkness so thick it felt like I could touch it.
I quickly unlocked it again to get the light back, coming to the conclusion that this was not going to be pleasant once my phone died.
Wait, why hadn't I tried to call my dad yet?! That should have been the first thing I did!
I got dialing, but there was absolutely no signal and the call didn't even ring. Out of desperation, I tried to call my brothers too, but it was the same.
With a deep sigh, I leaned back against the wall again, feeling cold, miserable and annoyed.
The pink dress was still on my mind, hovering there like some ethereal thing that I kept trying to grab, but it kept slipping away. Then another image sprang to my mind. A woman in a white dress... I knew her face, but I couldn't place her for some reason. I couldn't give her a name.
Wait! It was a wedding! I was here for a wedding. We were in Bermuda.
I reached for more memories, but it was as if my brain simply shut down and refused to give me any more. Like it was too exhausted to make any further effort to assist me in finding the pieces and putting them together right now.
I'd been sitting there for maybe ten minutes, grumbling to myself about my aching head and how cold and uncomfortable the uneven floor was against my bruised butt, when I heard a clatter in the distance, like something falling.
My head snapped around, trying to find the source of the sound, but it was hard because the space echoed and the sounds seemed to come from all around me.
Straining my ears, I listened for any other noises, hoping it was the group I had come with. Maybe they knew another way in and were coming to rescue me.
I struggled to my feet, holding my head as the movement induced another wave of nausea, then I made my way further into the cave, being careful to watch my footing this time.
Wait, was that a voice?
(Morgan's POV)Flynn's words had been more mocking than curious, but maybe it was a start. At least he hadn't picked me up and thrown me overboard. Maybe if I could just show him, that might make him believe me. Might make him understand.I pulled my phone out of my pocket again and turned it on.Once again, he watched it curiously. It definitely held some kind of intrigue for him, so I leaned into it."This is my phone," I explained, waiting for it to start up. "Everyone has one in 2025—"His eyes snapped back up to me. "2025?!" he exclaimed, seemingly horrified.I gulped and managed a nod, but pressed on, taking a few more steps toward him to show him the phone.He fixed his eyes back on the screen when the startup jingle played, and the phone blazed to life. The homescreen was a picture of the beach... one I'd taken during my cousin's wedding. It was beautiful. Like, Instagram-worthy. Of course, I had posted it to Instagram..."Where’s that noise comin’ from?" he asked, still stari
(Morgan's POV)Flynn strode in, his usual scowl plastered on his face as he made his way over to his desk and began to shuffle through papers.The room was silent aside from the rustling of pages as Oliver and I both watched him.I took another swig of my broth, hoping it might give me some courage, then I spoke up. "I..." I hesitated, "I need to talk to you."His eyes snapped up to me and narrowed."Well, out with it. I’ve not got all day," he replied, resuming his rummaging.But I shook my head. "No... um... In private might be better," I went on, already feeling my heart starting to race.He paused, regarding me for a moment, then he sighed and rolled his eyes before gesturing for Oliver to leave the room.The boy nodded and climbed to his feet, scurrying out as quickly as his short little legs would carry him. When the door clicked shut behind him, it sounded like the lid closing on my coffin.Flynn pulled himself up to his full height, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting fo
(Morgan's POV)Thirst woke me, my throat so dry I was almost convinced I was going to choke on the air I was breathing. My tongue felt dry and thick, and there was only one thought reverberating through my throbbing skull... water.I sat up and looked around the small, empty cabin. No Flynn. No Owen. No Oliver. No stutterer. No one to ask to bring me a drink.Fuck.With no other options, I pulled myself to my feet, my body aching all the while, then stumbled toward the jug on the bureau, using the table for support as soon as I was close enough.There was no cup. Not that I could see, at least. And I was too desperate to start digging through cupboards and drawers to find one, so without a second thought, I brought the half-filled jug to my lips and drank.It was awkward and clumsy, the ceramic jug too tall and too cumbersome, but I didn't care. All I wanted was what was inside it.The second it hit my lips, I felt instant relief. It was cool and wet and delicious, and I drank. Drank
(Morgan's POV)Flynn strode out of the cramped, wooden cabin again, entirely done with the situation. Done with me. Owen scurried behind him, but not without giving me a solemn nod on his way out. I wasn't sure whether it was just a polite, gentlemanly gesture, or whether it had something to do with the revelation of my surname.The door clicked shut behind them, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. My muscles were still tense though, clinging to the remnants of adrenaline and fear that had been coursing through me since the moment I opened my eyes. Fuck, probably since the moment I realized I was on a fucking ship!This was a mess. Not only would their ransom note be met by deafening fucking silence, but it turns out that I had the pleasure of sharing a surname with some famous pirate overlord.Great... just great.Was I even related to Calico Jack? If I was, I didn't know about it. I'd never done the whole 23andMe thing. Never cared to. I didn't really care who my ancient ancestor
(Flynn's POV)Rackham... She said her surname was Rackham. And that changed everything.I watched her face, looking for some flicker of recognition at the name Calico Jack, but there was none.If she meant to use the name for leverage, why’d she act like she didn't know the man? Calico Jack—hell, just the sound of it could turn men pale. If she thought it might help her, she’d be crowin’ he were her da, or her uncle, or some such kin. So why deny it?Maybe she didn't know? Maybe she was a bastard? Or maybe she was just the unluckiest lass alive."So, yer tellin' me ye don't know John Rackham—Calico Jack. Ye share a name, but yer nay his kin?" I asked, my suspicion smouldering now.She shook her head, then shrugged, a look of confusion settling over her. "I mean... I don't think so."I glanced over at Owen. He was still sitting there, struck dumb by the revelation, the quill in his hand leaking ink onto the page in front of him.This was a disaster. How could we send word to Bermuda th
(Morgan's POV)The two men stepped back into the room. Owen was wearing an eager smile, but the Captain—Flynn—I'd heard Owen call him, was not. He wasn't scowling, for a change, but he didn't look happy, and I wasn't sure what to make of that."What are ye doin' on my bed?!" Flynn blurted, seemingly horrified by my intrusion."Sorry, I just... I..." I trailed off, uncertain what to say."Oh, I was just doing some light reading while I waited for you. Checking publication dates and what were possibly your very classified ship logs. Nothing to worry about. I swear I'm not a spy."Abso-fucking-lutely not."Off with ye!" he barked, making a swooping movement with his arm like one might do when shooing a dog from a couch.Well, that was kinda rude...I pulled myself to my feet and began the tiresome journey back to my straw excuse for a bed on the floor."Well, lass, I've good news for ye," Owen began, taking me by the thankfully unburned elbow and urging me along. He was clearly very eage