Dead-or-Alive

-Chapter 3.2-

-Chapter 3.2 🌊 Land Ho!-

Outside the Captain's quarters, Thatcher slumped over to the helmsman, bracing himself for a talk he knew he could no longer avoid. His longtime friend smiled at him weakly, he too not keen on starting the much-needed conversation. Gazing up at the moons high above them, Thatcher knew he had no choice. "Ye sure you want to do this, Leo? You want to leave all of this behind? All of us?"

Gripping the helm with more force than necessary, Leo gave the ocean a look only another sailor could ever hope to understand. "I gave me heart to the tides long ago, ye know that, but after that last battle I cannot stay. I am too old Thatch, only sailing to recapture some of me glory days. Shiver me timbers, I do not know how my light still shines brightly tonight," he grieved, his shoulders shaking as he shoved down a cry, "So many men lost. So many lights extinguished. So. Much. Pain."

The Captain fought his own urge not to weep. He couldn't let himself do that in front of a fellow pirate. "Have ye heard wind of Oliver?"

"Nay. I can't hear his wails anymore, but the moons tell me his mind is still unhinged. Quinton spoke to me earlier. Said some of the crew wanted to give Ollie Kill Devil to help with his hallucinations. Can't imagine it did him much good. Toxic seaweed that stuff is."

Thatcher grimaced, praying Oliver wouldn't be lost to his demons forever. He took the brunt of the fight and everyone knew it. Being a crew's carpenter is a job unwanted by all the five seas. They are forced to cut off limbs that need cutting, but even then, that life is not promised. Bathed in blood and death all day...It'd drive any man to walk the plank. Thatcher feared every night he'd wake up the next morning to find someone, if not Oliver, with a rope tied round their neck or face down in the sea. It wouldn't be the first time.

"I don't understand how it happened...," Leo whispered, drawn back to the battle, pulling the Cap right along with him.

It had been a humid day, with little rays of sunlight escaping through the cloudy sky. "It was going to storm. We were worried about the weather, we didn't see them approaching," Thatcher commented, ashamed to admit he had been so blind.

Leo heard the guilt in his voice and shook his head. "It wasn't your fault Thatch. No one noticed them before they started to advance on us."

"I should have."

The chase didn't last long. Their ship was larger, faster, and stronger. She swung around their broadside and fired her round canons before his crew had time to react. He remembered shouting 'duck and cover' before ordering the gunners and powder monkeys to take position. At that point, it had started to rain. Rain... He scoffed at the word. It was a torrential downpour. The waves rose to monstrous heights with the wind, threatening to capsize his ship. The men slipped on the wet deck banging their knees and elbows, but they kept getting back up. No one quit. No one surrendered. "We never stood a chance," Leo confessed, knowing full well that the crew did all they could. Even with everything done right, they were bound to lose.

"How could the great dragons give them victory? Our hull was in splinters and the men had already started to bleed, but somehow, we managed to fire back. We threw our grappling hooks and rope and attacked them head on. We had the advantage," Thatcher insisted, not wanting to believe he had led his men into a trap, but in truth he had.

The old sea dog frowned, knowing the truth just as well. "Don't lie to me boy. I know as you do. It was all a ruse."

They both brooded, the angst evident on their brows. Leo pulled a flask out of his coat and took a swig before passing it to the Captain. Guzzling the liquid, his face twisted. "What poison is that?"

"The best medicine," he joked, taking his flask back to chug down some more.

"Aye, I can't disagree."

"No one can."

With nothing left to say, their nightmare continued. Aboard the enemy ship, the pirates drew their cutlasses and pistols wasting no time. Sparks flew as steel clashed against steel piercing the darkness with light. The roar of gunshots and screams was deafening, but in that fight no senses were needed. Every blow, every rally, and every sidestep was primal instinct. The Captain wore a smug smile, savoring the sweet smell of his enemies' blood upon his sword. Those scallywags would rue the day they ever set sight on his precious Anabelle. "I thought we were doing so well. My arrogance cost us that fight."

"Nay, we were all pompous pogies."

It wasn't a little while longer that Thatcher realized the enemy had just as much blood on their own swords, quite possibly more. Watching his men fall before his eyes, he surveyed the battle. The enemy pirates had prepared, choosing positions ideal for defense, ideal for killing. Knowing time was running out, Thatcher searched for the one person he knew could solve everything. Killing their captain would put an end to things without delay, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen, only young replaceable boys. He was a coward.

Running to the captain's quarters, Thatcher kicked the door down. The room was vacant. Books sat neatly on their shelf and the bed appeared not to have been slept in for days. Nothing looked out of place except for a sole journal that was partially tucked under a pillow. Out of instinct he grabbed it, shoving it in his coat. Giving the room one last glance, he fled, ordering his crew to retreat. They fought off their attackers and set sail, throwing off cargo to outrun the Man-O-War that chased them.

The days that followed were teeming with repairs and mourning. If only the captain had been there. It could have all been over. "Where was he?" Thatcher snarled.

Leo pounded his fists against the helm, just as enraged. "I haven't a clue, but if you ever sail across that wretched ship again, promise me one thing."

"Aye?"

"Find that captain and wring him dry. I want his blood to stain the ocean red and his skin to be hung up as our sails to crack in the heat of the sun! Good mates I lost. Good mates...," he died off at the end, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"I promise you that."

Finishing off the last drops in the flask, Leo tucked it away. "Where do ye think ye will go?" Thatcher asked, longing for his misery to fade away for the remainder of the night.

Pointing up at the stars, his arm dropped until his finger fell on a spot in the distance. "The Isle of Dancers to start. Then, I may hop aboard a ship to sail to Airetas. I hear it is mighty peaceful all year round. A fine place to die."

"Leo, don't say that!"

"Belay! You know it to be true. I'm all skin and bones and pure will now, but the life I've led has held more glory, treasure, and fight than ten men combined! I am happy to go Thatch, knowing I've lived, truly lived. Can ye say the same?"

"Aye, I'm captain, aren't I?"

Leo rolled his eyes. "You can't fool me, lad. I have watched you grow from a mere swabbie to one of the most feared and envied pirates of all the five seas. I know there's something else out there for you. It's why you keep going, instead of taking your treasure and retiring on a fancy island somewhere safe from the capital's grip. Tell me, what are ye searching for?"

Pulling out his spyglass, Thatcher shook his head. "I'll tell you when I find out."

Locking in on the landmass only minutes away, Thatcher and Leo shared one last smile. If they ever saw each other again it would be under far grimmer circumstances, but for then, they grinned like a pair of mad monkeys. Together, they bellowed loud enough to wake the ship, "Land ho!"

A/N:

Ahoy lads and lassies, I need an honest answer from you! How was the battle? I am planning on adding one later on (well many more) and I would like to know if there is anything you all didn't understand or want elaborated? That was only a taste so it wasn't jam packed with as much action as I'd like, but hopefully you scurvy dogs got the gist of it. XD

Your Pirate Queen,
Max <3