Hamish X Goes to Providence Rhode Island (7 page)

The children on the deck below cheered. Hamish X laughed and shrugged. “You were warned. Now throw down your weapon and I'll accept your surrender.”

Captain Ironbuttocks glowered. He was not used to being laughed at, especially by children. On top of that, his bottom was quite sore, which did nothing to improve his mood. He stood up and sneered. “You can't possibly be defeating me and my entire crew. It's you who should be surrendering before I call my men up here to deal with your little mob of ankle-biters, hey? I will take these rug monkeys, these carpet gnomes, these thumb-sucking, diaper-wearing . . .”

Before Ironbuttocks could think of another way of insulting the children, the ship rocked as an explosion
from below decks sent Hamish X, the Captain, and the children crashing to the deck. Thomas was obviously up to some mischief in the bowels of the ship. Before Hamish X could stop Ironbuttocks, the Captain vaulted to his feet, leapt over Hamish X through the door to the bridge, and slammed the metal hatch behind him.

Hamish X stood up and grabbed the handle to find that it was locked from the inside. He braced his boots against the hatch and strained with all his might, but to no avail.

“Ha!” The thick steel of the hatch muffled Ironbuttocks's voice. “Not so smarty-mouthed now, eh Boot-Boy?”

Hamish X reared back and kicked the hatch, scoring the surface but denting it only slightly. “Open this hatch! There's nowhere to hide!” Hamish X shouted.

“No chance!”

Sometimes one becomes so focused on the task in front of one that one misses the obvious. Have you noticed? Hamish X was trying so hard to get in the locked hatchway that he failed to notice all the windows on the front of the bridge were gaping open, shattered when the explosion tore the cargo hatch off. Flummoxed by this hatch, he stood back, breathing heavily, and finally noticed his error. Unfortunately, so had Captain Ironbuttocks.

“Aha!” shouted Hamish X. He tensed to jump through the opening. Inside the bridge, the Captain staggered across the floor and slammed his hand down on a large metal lever. Metal shutters screeched down, sealing the windows from the inside. The Captain breathed a sigh of relief. He had bought himself some time.

“Tee hee!” Captain Ironbuttocks cackled, “Tee hee! I have stuck a fly in your ointment, hey, Mr. Boots? Tee
hee!”
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He looked around the bridge, hoping to find some way out of his predicament. All of the ship's controls, radar, communications equipment, and steering were controlled from the bridge. If he could wait the rebellious children out, he might still win the day.

Hamish X stood outside the bridge, frustrated by the metal shutters. Maggie, having recovered from the explosion, ran up the steps and stood by Hamish X's side.

“We gotta get in there,” Maggie said. “Without the bridge, everything else is pointless.”

“Yes,” Hamish X agreed, running his hand over the scratched metal of the hatch. “This door is strong, but I don't doubt that with a little work,” he tapped it with the toe of one massive boot, “I can get through. In the meantime, we should look for alternatives.”

“Like what?”

Hamish X thought for a moment. “Leave this to me!” he said grimly. “You go and help Thomas. Get to the engine rooms and shut down the turbines. If the ship's dead in the water, there's nothing Ironbuttocks can do. He'll have to come out or we'll have all the time in the world to get in.”

Maggie nodded and sped off in search of her brother.

Hamish X turned his attention back to the task at hand. He concentrated on his boots. In all his adventures they
had aided him in overcoming whatever obstacle he faced. Angry Yetii,
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vicious pirates, fields of fire, oceans of ice: all these opponents had been vanquished by his boots. But since King Liam had freed him of the ODA's hold, removing their restraints and tracking devices, Hamish X had been forced to relearn how to access the power of his magnificent footwear.

He took a deep breath and focused his mind on his boots. Before, whenever he was in distress, the boots would respond immediately, coming to his aid. Now he had to make a conscious effort, but as he practised, the effort became easier, second nature.

“Like riding a bicycle,” he muttered … Where had he ever ridden a bicycle?

He had a sudden vivid memory of being up on the seat of a bicycle, wobbling ferociously as someone shouted to him: “You're doing it, Hamish! You're doing it!” A beautiful, woman's voice. He knew her. The voice was so familiar. “You're riding a bicycle, Hamish! I knew you could do it.” Suddenly he was tipping over. He was falling, his hands thrust out in front of him … Falling!

He opened his eyes to find himself on his hands and knees on the deck. What had happened to him? Was he remembering his life before he had become Hamish X? Were those memories still there, hidden in his mind? Was there hope that he might someday find his real mother?
Tears started in his eyes. “Ha! It's possible. Ha ha!” He started to laugh out loud.

“Hey!” Captain Ironbuttocks shouted through the hatchway. “What's so funny? Are you going crazy because you can't get me? That's it, isn't it? I'm driving you mad with the frustration, eh?”

Hamish X pushed himself up to a standing position outside the hatch. “No such luck, Rustypants,” he called cheerfully. “I'm just laughing because getting you out of there is going to be so easy!”

Hamish X once again took a deep breath and focused on the boots. When he was a slave to the ODA, he had been forced to listen to that voice, Mother. Not his real mother but a presence guiding his actions for the evil intent of the Grey Agents. He was free of that presence now, and the hope that one day he might find his true mother and listen to her voice filled him with joy. He tapped into the swell of his emotion, reaching easily down into the boots and calling up a massive surge of glorious power.

“Are you ready, Captain Ironbuttocks? I'm coming for you!”

To his boots he cooed, “You've never let me down before, friends,” and felt the power begin to swell. “Let's open this tin can and get ourselves a greasy little sardine!”

Chapter 7

Captain Ironbuttocks sat in his captain's chair and puffed on a cigar.
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He was feeling pretty pleased with himself. He had thwarted the crazy boy with the boots and now he could dictate terms. The shutters and the hatch were made of the highest quality tempered steel. Nothing short of an industrial laser could cut through his defences. Back when he had purchased the ship, he'd made sure the bridge was reinforced as a final bastion. As a Slaver Captain and a member of the Pirates Union, Ironbuttocks knew that captains often had to face the danger of a mutinous crew or a rebellious cargo, so he'd made sure he had a fortified place to ride out any uprising. For once he was glad he'd been so paranoid and paid the extra money.

“I'm a pretty smart guy, me!” The Captain chuckled. “Super smart.”

He was fairly certain that he had driven the nasty boy with the boots mad with frustration when he heard Hamish X laughing for no apparent reason. The Captain's aura of superiority evaporated when the boy shouted, “Are you ready, Captain Ironbuttocks? I'm coming for you!” Something in the tone of Hamish X's voice cut right through the Captain's wall of contentment.

The final vestige of Ironbuttocks's smug self-confidence was dissipated by a loud clang as Hamish X kicked the hatch with all the pent-up power his boots could muster. The impact knocked the Captain out of his chair and onto his metal bottom. The hatch held, but an alarming dent appeared in the centre. The dent was roughly the same shape as one of the mad boy's boots.

“Uh-oh,” the Captain said softly. Another ringing clang saw the hatch dent grow even larger. The hatch wouldn't hold much longer. Captain Ironbuttocks felt a cold, burning hatred deep in his soul.

“I hate you, boy! I hate you and your silly, stupid boots!” he railed. He loathed the thought of losing his ship to these ragged kids. If he lost his ship, his employers would not be pleased. He doubted he would survive the displeasure of the ODA. “I won't give up my ship! I won't give up my ship! I … I …” He looked around the bridge and his eyes caught the radar screen. What he saw there made him smile. He leapt to the wheel and slammed the engines full ahead. The ship lurched forward.

“Hey, Mr. Big Feet! You think you have a lot of smart thinks in your mind? Well, phooey! If I can't have this beautiful ship, nobody will! Tee hee!
Christmas Is Cancelled
is cancelled!”

Though the threat was difficult to decipher, Hamish X still felt a trill of dread when he heard it. Outside the hatch, he was just rearing back for another powerful kick when he felt the ship change direction. Puzzled, he shouted to the Captain. “What's going on, Ironbutt? What are you up to?” He turned to look out over the bow of the ship, scanning the darkness. At first, he
saw only blackness and the reflection of the ship's running lights off the wine-dark sea, but after his eyes adjusted, he saw a winking red light in the distance. Concentrating on it, he felt his vision shift. His pupils widened like telescopic lenses. The red light leapt into stark relief. The dawn was coming. Outlined in the growing daybreak, a series of jagged rocks rose out of the sea. On the largest of them a red beacon winked on and off to warn sailors of the danger. Hamish X's face turned ashen as he realized what the Captain was going to do. He turned and hammered on the dented hatch.

“What do you think you're doing? You'll wreck us on the rocks!”

“You won't get my ship, you booted freak-boy,” came the muffled, manic reply. “You won't get my ship! Tee hee! Tee hee!”

Hamish X feverishly began to hammer the hatch with his boots. He had to stop the Captain from wrecking the ship on the rocks. “Hurry, Maggie,” he muttered to himself.

Down below, Maggie hurried. She pelted through the corridors of the ship. Everywhere she looked, there were signs of a titanic struggle. She ran through the mess hall and found the tables overturned, chairs broken, dishes shattered. She ran down a corridor past the crew cabins. The doors hung open or dangled from shattered hinges. In a heap, four crewmen lay tied together with electrical tape and nylon rope, a child standing guard over them. She was about to ask the boy where her brother was when she heard shouting and the sound of metal clashing against metal. She followed the din and came to a steep metal ladder. The sounds were coming from below. She gripped
the handrails and slid down the ladder, landing lightly on the metal floor.

She found herself on the lowest deck of the ship. The remnants of a heavy battle were strewn along the corridor. Two sailors lay unconscious. A little girl sat with her back to the wall, holding a rag doll against a cut on her forehead.

“Where's Thomas?” Maggie demanded. The girl pointed down the corridor and Maggie sped off. She came to the end and turned the corner, almost running into a knot of children gathered in front of a large metal door. Lined up against the wall, bound and gagged, was a group of vanquished crewmen.

The door was scratched and dented but seemed solid. Thomas swung a massive wrench. It bounced off the door with a sound like a metal gong, shivering the wrench from his grasp. The tool fell to the metal deck with a clatter. Thomas danced out of the way, avoiding a crushed toe, then examined the hatch. The wrench had barely scratched the surface.

“Ow!” Thomas winced and twisted his wrists experimentally. “This is hopeless! We can't get in!” He shook his head.

“What's going on?”

“The last of the crew is holed up in the engine room, Maggie. They've locked the hatch and we can't get through. We'll have to starve them out.”

“Hamish X says we have to shut down the engines,” Maggie insisted.

“Well, unless he has a blowtorch,” Thomas snapped, “or a bazooka, we are not getting into the engine room.”

Maggie shook her head. “Hamish X is trying to get into the bridge, but the place is like a fortress. Keep trying.” She turned on her heel and ran back the way she came.

Thomas watched her go and shrugged. “Let's find a bigger wrench.”

HAMISH X WAS DRENCHED WITH SWEAT
. He had kicked the hatch with all his might for the last minute and, though it was severely dented, the portal would not yield. He staggered back and looked at the rocks. They loomed ever closer. Even without the enhanced vision afforded him by whatever alterations the ODA had made to his eyesight, he could make out the deadly obstacle in the growing dawn light. He calculated that, at their current speed, the ship would crash into it in a minute, maybe less.

Maggie burst out of the lower deck hatch and ran towards Hamish X. “The engine room door isn't going to break down any time soon. We can't shut down the engines.”

Hamish X felt panic well up inside him. Fear wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed.