What Doesn't Kill Us--A McKenzie Novel by David Housewright (best books for 7th graders TXT) 📕

a great equalizer at sea, obliterating both weather and strategic advantage if an opponent could properly harness it. It would be less than an hour before the American ships overtook the Gazelle and tension was thick in the air. Gun crews all stood by at the ready, men aloft prepared for any order, the deck hands watched while the Gazelle slipped closer and closer to the grasp of the American fleet.

“Captain, they are going to take her. Shouldn’t we do something?” Lilith asked.

“Let’s hope they do Lilith and we are doing something. Don’t worry about the lads aboard, they’ll be slipping off soon. A little plan Chibs had when we first took her. You’ll see.” James answered, his eyes never leaving the lights of the Gazelle. The breeze gently whispered in across the deck of the Maiden, carrying the sounds of the choppy waves and the wash of the sea as her hull sliced onward. Then faintly, Lilith could hear another noise, an odd out of place creak and splash. Lilith strained her ears, thinking she must just be misplacing a sound from the Maiden, then it grew slightly, a creak, splash, creak, splash. She turned to say something to Captain James only to see Chibs standing next to him at the starboard rail, he was looking her way and held a finger over his lips in a hushing gesture. The noise ceased, followed by a dull clunk and within moments a group of exhausted men were climbing up over the rail.

“We’ve set it just as you ordered Captain, it should ignite when they open the hatch below,” one of the men said through ragged pants as he was doubled over with his hands on his knees.

“Well done boys, my thanks to you. Extra rations and extra rum for each of these men Chibs.” James said, his smile returning wildly.

“Aye Captain. A job well done indeed, let’s hope it works.” Chibs replied, ushering the sailors forward.

James turned back to Lilith, still smiling.

“Ready on the helm Lilith, they’ll have her any moment now,” James said in a steady, reassuring voice as they watched the dark silhouette eclipse their view of the Gazelle.

H.M.S Endurance

24 Sept 1808

17 Degrees 25’ N, 75 Degrees 57’ W

Darkness swept in around Will as he stood on the bow of the Endurance, far off in the distance the sails of the Valor crept further and further carrying his hopes of catching them away with every passing moment. His anger had subsided long ago, being drowned into a sea of sorrow and hopelessness. The tears he had been fighting no longer came and all that remained was a fatigue unlike he had ever felt before. Will glanced down at a coiled line at his feet, thinking back fondly to his early days as a midshipman when he and the other young officers would take turns stealing away naps atop a coiled bow line in the wee hours of the middle watch. The memory brought him a flash of joy and his reminiscing continued as he thought back to his introduction to the Valor. Captain Grimes, such a bold and skilled commander, he wished he had more time to learn from the man who was nearing his grave. Three French ships, he engaged three French ships, Will thought, some commanders, most in fact, would deem it reckless wanton glory hounding. But with Johnathan, even his brashness seemed measured, there was always a bigger plan. Even the engagement which wounded him so grievously, at first look he had acted rashly to engage but on deeper examination he had acted to draw the pirate ship away from the Admiral’s flagship, keeping them free to maneuver from the cove without being engaged.

William’s thoughts kept him pinned to the forecastle well after losing sight of the Valor. He pondered over his situation, the Valor, the Governor and the American. His thoughts were interrupted by the unwelcome arrival of the ship’s doctor.

“I am sorry to inform you Sir, but Captain Grimes has passed,” he stated flatly.

“Right. Ok, thank you. I will see to preparations for burial at sea.” Will replied, surprising himself with his manage on the emotions washing through his mind.

“If I could be so bold to suggest Sir, but wouldn’t Captain Grimes have preferred the frivolities of a service at sea be forgone in the effort to retake the mutineers?” the Doctor said struggling his words out.

“You are right Sir. I can almost hear his admonishments now, we will bury the Captain just as he would have us, underway and in pursuit.” Will replied finding his resolution.

“You’ll find your way Sir, you have a streak of Johnathan about you, it is unmistakable,” the doctor said as he patted Will on the shoulder before scuffling off to return below deck.

The yoke of command, he had wanted a command of his own since his youth. He had envisioned it as a shining moment on his career, bestowed upon him by a respected commander such as Johnathan or perhaps a Lord Governor in some embattled port. He had even considered it would come as the result of some battlefield action or attrition, but never like this. Every bit of circumstance leading up to his current role had been either grave misfortune or the dishonorable deeds of others. He felt lost and alone, torn between doing his duty and the compelling urge to turn his ship toward England and never return. He had no family awaiting him, his father died in the service while he was still a boy and his mother of cholera shortly after he had become a midshipman himself. There was no wife waiting his return, nothing to run home to but the familiar comfort of home. Home, Will thought, I don’t even have a home. Some boarding house or another while I await orders to put to sea. No, the Navy is my home, the Valor was my home and that bastard Cobb has stolen it from me.

“We will not be returning