Renegade by Antony John Page A

need to tell . . .” She didn’t finish the thought, because just then, Father and Tarn emerged.
    Finally I saw what she had seen: Four people on board the raft, and not one of them was moving. Three were turned away from us so that we couldn’t make out their faces, but one had her head tilted slightly toward us. And as her long gray hair was ruffled by the breeze, I knew exactly who it was.
    Tessa. My grandmother.
    I glanced back at Alice. She was watching me with a faraway expression. “There’s only one reason to stick four bodies on a raft and cast them off,” she said. “And we both know what it is.”
    Yes, we did. I just couldn’t believe that Tessa might be dead so soon after I’d begun to know her.
    â€œYou realize what this means, don’t you?” she continued.
    â€œThey’re all dead.”
    â€œMore than that. The other three look like pirates, and I’m guessing they didn’t shoot each other. Which means there must be another killer on Roanoke Island.” Alice lowered her eyes, as if she was frightened by her own realization. “And I have a horrible feeling it’s Plague.”

CHAPTER 16
    N either Tarn nor my father wanted to check on Tessa, that much was clear. But Plague or no Plague, she was family, so we drew in the sails and coasted to a stop some distance from the raft.
    Marin might have been able to manipulate the currents to draw us closer, but she was below deck tending to the sick. So Alice coiled a rope around her waist and dived into the gray-green water. She surfaced several yards from the ship and swam toward the raft.
    There wasn’t room for her to climb aboard—the bodies had been packed on tightly and restrained with binds—so she tossed her rope across the raft and crawled around to the far side to retrieve it. She wrapped it back around her waist. Legs braced against the thick wooden side, she gave me a nod. Ananias and I began to pull in the rope, and Alice drove the raft slowly toward us.
    Tessa was by herself to the left of the raft. The three pirates must have been dead when they were placed beside her; or close to death, anyway. Their limbs overlapped awkwardly. Even from several yards away I saw the telltale signs of Plague: dark lumps around their necks, and blackened fingers. It was hard to think of them as people at all—at least, until I scanned their faces and recognized one of them.
    â€œIt’s the old man from the beach,” I shouted.
    Alice was grimacing from the strain of forcing the raft along, but she peered up at the figures.
    â€œWhen we spied on the pirates at Hatteras, there was that old man,” I reminded her. “Seemed like Dare’s right-hand man.”
    She placed both hands on the side of the raft and pulled herself up to get a better look. When she saw him and Tessa side by side, her expression shifted, as though their deaths were particularly meaningful for her.
    Before I could ask Alice about it, Tarn drew alongside me. “We can’t bring them aboard,” she announced. “All we can do is offer blessings for safe passage.”
    â€œForget bringing them aboard,” I said. “What I want to know is: How did they die of Plague on Roanoke Island? There are no rats there.”
    â€œThere
weren’t
any rats there,” my father corrected. “But we’ve been gone a week.”
    â€œConvenient timing for them to arrive,” said Ananias.
    I huffed. “Not convenient at all. Not if we’re going to rescue our mother.”
    Alice raised a hand for silence. She was staring at Tessa’s foot. Slowly, carefully, she placed a finger and thumb on Tessa’s bare big toe and pinched hard. The foot ticked sideways.
    â€œShe’s alive,” I shouted.
    Alice was already untying the rope from her waist and spooling it around Tessa. “Get her up there,” she yelled. “Now.”
    Tarn shook her head.