DEAD MAN'S TIDE: A Tale of Cutthroats and Cursed Gold

The first thing Red Rackham stole that night wasn't gold. It was a corpse. It lay sprawled across the Hell's Harlot's deck, seawater pooling beneath its bloated fingers. The crew muttered prayers, charms, curses, all while keeping three paces back. All except Jimmy the Jinx, who crouched close enough to count the barnacles crusting the dead man's eyelids.