Sleepy Hollow © Alex Kurtzman, Roberto Orci, Phillip Iscove, Len Wisemen
Overhaul
Prologue/
Mills saw him through a telescope. The man, adorned in Her Majesty's colors—already a bad a sign—had been trying to stand, but he kept staggering. He didn't even have the strength to raise his arms above his head which was what Mills thought he was doing anyway. Finally, he tripped on his own feet and jerked his hands in front of him to stop his fall. From what Mills gathered, he wasn't able to, as the man stumbled to the white sand, giving up. After one final desperate wave towards Mills, the man stopped moving all together.
"Is he dead," Captain Irving asked Mills who was right by her side peering into his own telescope. She shrugged in reply, suddenly curious.
"Do you want me to check?"
The Captain nodded before giving her a stern stare, as if she missed something important. "Of course," He signaled for the rest of his crew to ready the row boats. "You want to do this yourself Mills?"
Mills retracted her telescope and fastened it to her belt, "give the word, Captain, and I'll gladly row to shore on my own."
The Captain gave her a placid smile and nodded once more, "then I give word Mills. But bring some men with you, no point in getting killed because we didn't call an ambush." She gave a curt nod and called forward two crew-mates who quickly accepted without a hint of hesitation.
It hadn't been long when she was chosen to be the Sleepy Hollow's first mate; it had been exciting for her but elicited caution for the rest of the crew even when the company didn't care much for the superstitious bad luck that women brought to a ship. They had all agreed that Abbie Mills was a good first mate to Captain Irving—she was strong and fearless, and commanded attention with her voice. She was short in stature but she could carry the cutlass like she was one of the men. As far as anyone was concerned, Abbie Mills was a pirate worthy enough for all seven seas.
"Let's stay cautious men," Mills ordered as the two other men rowed their boat towards shore.
"Do we blow the man down handsomely and cleanly, as always Mills?" one of them cracked. She knew he was referring to the way she tend to slay her aggressors. Mills may be a pirate, but she preferred a cut and dry way of execution. It was better to look at and there was less to clean if it happened on the Sleepy Hollow.
Mills grinned, "if he decides to jump the gun, as always."
Once the boat was close enough to shore, Mills jumped out and didn't wait for the other two to pull the boat ashore and stalked towards the man who hadn't moved a muscle. She drew her cutlass, ready to cut if he was to suddenly move towards her.
The man had indeed been wearing the Navy's colors, and it looks as if he had been there for a few days now. She glanced towards her crew-mates, "seems like our man was marooned." Mills prodded the man with the tip of her boot, watching for movement.
Suddenly, he groaned and slowly sat up, watching around him. "Water—please."
Mills raised an eyebrow, "there's water all around you, why not take a swig of that?" She was playing him of course; her questions must be answered before his desires could even be met.
"Please—!" he tried to grab at her leg, earning him a knife to his throat.
"Don't run the rig with me mate," Mills said, low and dangerous. "You're in pirate lands, wearing the Queen's colors, you might want to answer my questions before you start asking for favors."
He struggled to stand—Mills already knew the man would be taller than her if he managed, so she kicked his leg under. "Stay down and answer my questions first—aye?" She took his silence as agreement and motioned for her crew-mates to tie the man's hands behind his back.
"Mills, the tide's coming in—you want us to strap him to a tree or bring him aboard to dance the hempen jig?" One of her crew-mates yelled from the shoreline. She looked over to the Sleepy Hollow, wondering if she should bring the man aboard.
She gave the man a good look, close to questioning herself. Mills knew that a wrong order could cause her the lives of the crew, but her stubborn mind told her she could deal with the concequences. "Take him aboard," she commanded and the man was dragged towards the row boat. "We'll do our questioning there and if the man gives me any reason of doubt—" she gave the man a dangerous look—one that even her crew-mates feared, "I'll be sure to give no quarter."