Chapter Eight,
The Enemy's Exit
A shot rang out, and Blackbeard's sword fell from my neck. Then he collapsed, rolling over into the sand. His listless eyes stared unseeing into the sky. Blood dribbled from a wound in his forehead and from his limp, open mouth.
"Agh!" cried the Captain in surprise, drawing his sword and pointing it at the limping figure.
"Dominic," I whispered, hardly daring to beleive it. I approached him slowly, begging I wouldn't wake if it were a dream. I felt slow as if moving through the shallows.
"H-hullo, sweet...heart," Dominic said, the most beautiful smile spreading across his face.
It's not a dream! He's actually alive! I thought I was never going to hear that deep, resonating voice ever again...
Dominic had a hard time speaking, pain was flickering in his eyes, and the muscles in his neck were twitching with the strain of holding himself up.
I finally reached out and grasped his hand. It was cold, sweaty, and shaking. With my other arm, I wrapped it around his waist to try and support his weight. He leaned into me, his breath wheezing.
"So, ye DO got yerself a man," the Captain said in disgust, "And now yer man 'as gone and killed me first mate." he sheathed his sword. "Ah well. Best not be overcome with mournin'. He was plannin' mutiny anyways. Burnsy, ye're promoted."
"Th-thank-you, Cap'n!" Burnsy exclaimed in surprise.
"Call the men in," the Captain ordered, staring at Dominic as if he were a lobster crawling from its hole.
Burnsy whistled, and from all directions, swarthy and ugly buccanears in all shapes and sizes swarmed like bees headed for the hive. They went in the direction of the tall, threatening ship in the harbor.
The Captain tipped his hat. "Be seein' ye, ma'am."
Burnsy picked up the chest of gold. "And thank-ye kindly, ma'am. And..." he waited until the Captain had walked two or three paces. "I'm sorry I gutted yer husband... An' I'm glad he killed Blackner and not me for what I done!"
"BURNSY!" screeched the Captain.
Burnsy rushed to catch up.
