In The Wreckage: A Tale of Two Brothers Read Online Free PDF Page B

place to be, and he could grip with his claws, hold himself steady. “We have to get hidden. The engineer will be back any minute.” The sacks of hay had been thrown to the middle of the hold, close to the diesel engine. Conall pointed forward. “Under the sails.”
    The boys crawled, dodging sacks and loose tools as they made their way forwards. The canvas had been secured with strong rope and tight knots. They wouldn’t move. If the ship pitched forward, they might be crushed by flying debris, but they had to hide somewhere. Conall pulled at the sails, wriggled into a gap and curled up into a ball, determined to ride out the storm. He heard Faro vomit once more.
    Conall felt sick himself, exhausted, too tired to stay awake. If the ship foundered, there’d be no escape. Not from here. He had to trust to the skills of Jonah Argent and his men, and hope The Arkady survived the storm. His head resting on the deck, he concentrated on the sounds of the ship, the roll of the waves, waiting for a sign that the worst of the tempest had passed.  
    He lay awake for hours, listening to the gale, the ocean and the groaning of the ship but eventually his eyes grew heavy and he fell into a disturbed sleep.  
    He woke with Rufus curled up beside him under the sail. The wind had dropped, the rain had stopped and the seas were calm. The ship no longer pitched and rolled. His stomach groaned, but with hunger, not sickness, and his throat felt parched.  
    Voices. Footsteps. Men were moving through the hold searching.  
    “They’re in here somewhere.” It was the engineer’s voice. “I heard ‘em, I tell you. And there’s a dog.”  
    “Think the storm’s affected his hearing,” said a sailor.
    “His thinking more like.” That was Jonah’s voice. “There’s no one here.”  
    Then silence. Whispering. “There they are,” the engineer said. The men stomped to the front of the hold, standing over the pile of sails, only feet away. They must be able to see them.  
    The sail was pulled back and a torch shone into Conall’s face. “Well, if it isn’t the boy from the Old Broch,” Jonah said. “And you’re right, he did bring his dog. Come on boys, get ‘em to the brig. We’ve got us a couple of stowaways.”  

Chapter Four
A T REASURE M AP

    The sailors grabbed Faro and Conall. One of them made a lunge at Rufus and the dog bit the man’s hand. The sailor yelled and kicked out. Conall wriggled free and snatched the dog, shielding him.  
    “Enough,” Jonah shouted and yanked at Conall by the collar. “Bring your dog, and if it bites me I’ll boil it for supper, you got that? Search the hold.”  
    The men soon found Conall’s bag and his binoculars. They were marched up the ladder to the middle deck and locked in a room, no more than seven foot by four, with a bunk bed and straw on the floor. Conall slumped onto the bottom bunk and put Rufus on the bed beside him.  
    Faro pulled himself up and sat on the edge of the top bunk, his feet swinging wildly. “It’s all right,” Faro said. “I’ve got a plan. This Jonah, he’s the one we heard in the hold. And he’s the first mate. So we tell the captain what we heard. Then the captain’s in our debt.”  
    “And the first mate will kill us.”  
    “He’s not in charge.”
    “I wouldn’t be so sure. I reckon the men follow Jonah. And why should the captain believe us?”  
    “How else would we know about the map?”  
    “There might not be a map. We should tell the truth, offer to work our passage. Save the stuff about the map.”  
    Faro became quiet, his brow furrowed, face wrinkled, thinking hard. “It’s the dog’s fault. They must have heard him. Never should have brought him.”  
    “It was you being sick. They’d have heard that on the top deck.”
    “Stupid dog. Hope they do eat him.”
    “They took my binoculars.”  
    “We don’t need them. We’re not waiting for ships anymore.”  
    “Depends where they leave us.”