The night was dark, out on the ocean during a new moon. The stars shone all the brighter for it, but they did little to help one see in this deep blackness.
As such, a pair of lanterns were hung at the bow and stern of Rackham John's boat, giving just enough illumination to see the deck well enough not to trip oneself on a coil of rope.
They also served to give warning to any other ships that may be floating by in the night, lest they crash into one another. While this wasn't the most traveled stretch of the Cheribbean sea, it was far from deserted.
Luffy, Jinbe, and a few extra deck hands that Rackham managed to wrangle up were all fast asleep. As far as Rackham knew, little Brendyll Ben was also snoozing soundly in his hammock. Ben was not.
"Just a little longer… come on," Rackham muttered beneath his breath, rubbing his hands together and breathing into them to keep them warm in the chilly night air.
Ben frowned from his hiding place. They were making good time, to be sure, but they were still a ways away from Port Royal.
Rackham had been on edge ever since they first set out to sea from Tortuga. He might even have been since he set foot on the docks. Ben had served on a fair few vessels in his short life, had even seen a battle or two if you counted an immediate surrender after the first few shots were fired; so he knew the signs when an experienced sailor was expecting something bad to happen, something they couldn't prepare for better than hoping and praying they'd survive.
Luffy apparently didn't, and Jinbe was so stoic that Ben couldn't tell if he did. Half the remaining deck hands noticed, though, and they were clearly unhappy with their choice to join this voyage, even if they didn't voice it. They probably worried they'd be thrown overboard, and if Ben hadn't a measure of Jinbe, he might have worried the same.
While Ben was thinking, Rackham cursed in impatience and marched towards the lantern at the bow of the ship. Ben took a risk and crept along after him to see if he could figure out what the shady old pirate was up to.
When Rackham reached the lantern, he yanked one of his sleeves up just a bit and pulled off the glove on the same hand. His bared hand was still wrapped in a cloth, which Rackham began to unwind hastily.
When Rackham finished and held his hand up to the light, it took every ounce of Ben's courage to stop himself from gasping and stumbling backwards.
There in the center of Rackham's exposed palm was a black boil that seemed to be rotting the flesh around it.
Ben didn't think Rackham just had a medical problem to take care of though. Rackham was doomed to die; by the Black Spot.
And the bastard was trying to drag them all down with him!
Ben slunk back, trying to get back to the sleeping quarters without being noticed.
Unfortunately, he wasn't watching where he was stepping and tripped over a spoil of rope with a clatter.
Rackham jammed his hand into his coat and whirled around to glare at him. "What did ye see, boy?"
"See?" Ben thought fast. He purposefully blinked his eyes wearily and rubbed at them, before giving a big yawn. "Did you drag me out of bed?"
"What? No," Rackham looked confused now. That was good. "What the hell gave ye that idea, boy?"
"Well, how else did I get here? I didn't fall asleep out here, did I?" Ben grumbled and slowly got to his feet, playing up the weakness of his legs. He shot a tired glare back at Rackham, "What do you want?"
Rackham stared at him for a moment, assessing him. Ben made his false displeasure known in his expression with each passing second.
"Go back t' bed, boy. It be no wonder ye can't hold down a job, if ye're causin' trouble sleep walkin' every night," Rackham huffed.
Ben shot him one last glare before turning on his heel and doing as he was told. He figured he got away with it thanks to his little act. No one who spent any amount of time on the sea didn't know the story of the Black Spot, and the doom it heralded.
Frankly, dealing with this was above his pay grade, in a literal sense given he had the lowest wages on the ship not including Luffy and Jinbe who were technically passengers.
That's why he was going to tell Jinbe all about this in the morning.
…
The morning eventually came as time ticked on at a crawling pace. Ben couldn't catch a single wink of sleep, so worked up he was about possibly meeting an early, watery grave.
Ben subtly motioned for Jinbe to step away so they could talk in relative private. Rackham was already passed out in a cot, so there were no worries about him at least.
"Is something wrong?" Jinbe asked in a low voice, his concern clear in his tone but not his expression.
"Rackham's got the Black Spot," Ben cut straight to the point, pointing at the palm of his left hand.
"I see," Jinbe's eyebrows rose. "Is it some kind of dangerous disease?"
Ben thought that he had properly communicated the danger, only to realize he hadn't communicated anything at all. "What? It's the Black Spot, you know? Like the stories!"
"I'm afraid I haven't heard the stories," Jinbe said, not looking or sounding nearly as concerned as he ought to be by now. And if he truly doesn't know the stories, then that was to be expected.
"The Black Spot marks a man for death, and any ship he boards is doomed to share in his fate!" Ben elected to skip the stories. Stories were for scaring each other to pass the time, not for demonstrating a clear and present danger to the ship and its crew!
"Hmm," Jinbe hummed.
Oh no. Now Jinbe was looking at him the way adults so often do. Jinbe thought he was just talking about fanciful tales, the likes of which only children believed. And Ben was a child.
"Listen, this is serious! We're all going to die if we don't throw him overboard!" Ben was panicking now.
"That's a bit extreme, isn't it? Surely if Rackham was awaiting such a gruesome fate, then he wouldn't drag others along with him?" Jinbe was trying to reason with him now, but reasoning couldn't keep real life nightmares at bay.
Ben only just understood the mistake he had made. If he had gone to the other men about this first, then they might have overpowered Rackham. But now? Now Jinbe would probably stop them. The guy was huge, so stopping a handful of malnourished men from committing a murder would be easy.
Jinbe was a stranger, and an honorable one at that. He neither recognized the true threat, nor would he allow the drastic measures necessary to save their lives.
"Maybe you're right," Ben said, his voice shaking a bit. Jinbe patted him on the shoulder, no doubt attempting to reassure him that he was being silly and that nothing was wrong.
Ben would wait until nightfall to kill Rackham on his own.