My head swirled, and I clutched the mud as if I could stop the earth from moving. I felt hands on me, stroking the hair from my eyes. I was wriggling around and shivering, my skin all thorny and pricked. “He’s burning up,” Sal yelled, his voice piercing through the blur. The pain howled in my arm, and I reached slippery fingers to where the nail had worked its way deep. Eyes closed. Eyes open. It didn’t matter. My guts twitched and I heaved again, and not a single drop squeezed out. In a different world, I could hear the ramp cranking down amid a stampede of boots and voices. Then the smell of old leather filled me with nausea as hands grappled hold of my shoulders and grabbed at my feet. “How many more days we got to keep them?” said the woman at my legs, her fingers sharp on my ankles. “I quit counting,” the voice right above me shot back, and the sound vibrated through me as the pirate woman sank my head against her chest.
