Choosing a side
James Norrington frantically looked at the two choices before him. Two choices; one of which would result in death. On one side was Elizabeth, the woman he loved more than any selfish ambition he had once desired, calling his name desperately as she escaped along the rope tying the Empress to the Flying Dutchman. On the other side, one of the Dutchman's crew, an old sailor with all sorts of sea life growing on his salty skin, blade out ready to attack. Norrington had his prized sword in one hand, pistol in the other.
Time seemed to pass too fast to decide. He needed more time! Yet it was also the slowest moment in his life, the moment where he had a chance for redemption.
Choices. Which was right?
"James!"
"Part of the crew, part of the ship!"
Which was right?
Norrington aimed his pistol at the advancing crewman. The sailor paused, a little confused. The starfish on his face made an odd squelching sound in the second of silence. Norrington glanced up, and something caught his eye. This was his last chance. Now or never, James he thought.
Bang! The bullet was released with a loud crack, flying through the air…
And hitting a rope directly above the sailor. The fibres of the rope snapped and the lantern attached to it dropped like a drowning man, crashing open in a burst of glass. Flames blossomed on the sailor, and he cried out loud and thrashed his arms about, trying to dispel the fierce orange fire that bit deep into his fragile skin. His weapon dropped with a clang, the sound awakening Norrington from his surprised daze. His plan had worked.
"James!" Elizabeth shouted as she neared the end of the rope, desperation in her frightened face.
Without a second thought, he sheathed his sword and gun and leapt up onto the slippery, green rope, clinging on as it swayed on the breeze.
"Yes! That's it!" Elizabeth shouted encouragingly from the other side. "Come on, James!"
One hand after the other in a frenzied ritual. Keep going! urged a voice in his head. The rope was wet with seaweed and sea spray, but he refused to let go. Not when he was so close.
There were shouts from the Dutchman as the mutilated, oceanic crew had arrived at the scene, a few seconds later accompanied by gunshots that were as loud as lightning in his ears. He gritted his teeth and fought the panic in his heart, trying to ignore the increasingly accurate shots.
He gasped and nearly slipped when a bullet took his admiral's hat, the projectile punching a hole through the material and casting in to the sea. He thanked God that that was not his head now bobbing up and down in the dark waves.
He was so close to the other side that he could taste the freedom on his tongue. The shots became less and less precise, hitting the heaving water below with soft splashes.
"We're out of range!" The crewman's disappointed cry was as sweet as revenge.
Norrington reached the other side, stumbling into the waiting arms of Elizabeth. He could have sobbed with relief, but he wouldn't let his brave face slip.
"We'll see about that!" came the voice of the infamous Davy Jones, his usual strange accent hard with rage.
Pain blossomed in his left shoulder as the bullet tore through his flesh, blood staining his naval uniform. He gasped in shock and fell forwards as the cold metal pierced deep through his bones, clutching the wound that felt damp and warm and fleshy. His knees hit the deck and Elizabeth lunged forward to his side, eyes wide with shocked concern.
Biting down a cry of pain, he glanced around and saw the Dutchman's captain standing there smug and holding a smoking gun in his tentacle-like hand. He turned around and limped off, his cackling crew following. Norrington was confused at first, but then realised that Jones thought he had made a crucial hit. Looking at his blood drenched fingers shielding the wound, he gulped when he saw that it had only just missed his heart.
Luck must be on his side today.
That's all for the moment guys! Sorry if it was a little rushed, but I hoped you enjoyed the first chapter! More to come in the future!