A/N: Here it is! This is the longest chapter so far, but at leas the two nits did something! There are funny lines in this chapter, but they just kind of happened. Again, this chapter is for you, PeiPei, because you kept saying that Pintel was . . . uhm . . . such a useless pile of something best not mentioned. I thought I ought to let him do something worth while for a change.

The title of the chapter is coutesy of the illustrious boyfriend, who wanted the end of this chapter to be messier than it is. The funny thing is "Shot in the Dark" has many media significances. Of course, we two looked at each other and said, "What? Ozzy?", because the old boy had a song out by that name. There is the Peter Seller's movie by that name. And I have a record by The Shot in the Dark. They are a band that Al Stewart ("Year of the Cat" dude) formed. All this has no significance upon this story.

Thank you to PeiPei and Catgirluh for reading this story faithfully. It gives me a real boost (And I ain't talking about all that caffeine in the system either!).

Chapter 17: Shots in the Night

The rest of the afternoon and the early evening Marita spent with Estella and Ragetti. She and her daughter worked on showing the man about letters and their proper use. If there was a way, the pair of miscreants could find the most unique way of misusing such letters. This aspect of the lady's day turned out well. Although the pirate was not the brightest light in the lantern, he did have a little left between his ears other than liquor soaked lint. It didn't hurt matters that he had always wanted to learn to read. So, he actually managed to retain some of the lesson and understand what was going on, although he was often confused with both Estella and Marita trying to tell him something at the same time. The child was quicker on the uptake of the lesson. Of course to be fair, one must remember that Ragetti had to forty years on the child, and the older the person, the harder it was to learn new things, because the mind was already cluttered with other things, and the pirate's mind was a virtual junk yard of unconstructive and useless things. Not to mention, Estella had had a few more lessons in the field than he did. If the course was on pick pocketing or womanizing, Ragetti would be the master here.

Pintel, on the other hand, was a completely different story for the woman. He made a few unnecessary and rather crude comments to his companion, who sat at the kitchen table with quill and paper. After a few nasty slaps of a rather dirty mop to the face, the older man decided that the trips through the kitchen were not necessary and the outside was a much safer place. This wasn't to say that he didn't get his revenge upon Marita for assigning him some of his companion's chores. While the younger man got to sit inside in the shelter from the blazing sun, the older man made a complete shambles of the work assigned him. For an intelligent woman, Marita had not figured out that no one put an ax in the older pirate's hand and hope to keep everything in tact.

Although doing the cooking had become one of his favorite chores, Ragetti was encouraged to continue his studies since he was on a roll. Marita made the meals for the day. After their evening meal and as night drew on, Marita and her daughter retired to their rooms. Saturday night usually found the two delinquent pirates in places, where no civilized man dared to go and hope to keep a hold of all of his goodies, and Marita would not see them again until Monday morning in no state to perform their duties. They would have happily kept up this routine, but the glare of the full moon kept them at bay. Having reverted back to living human beings now, they feared that the moonlight would bring the curse back upon them, and neither of them wanted to go back to those days. It did not matter to them that the activation of the curse was tied to the Aztec gold, and all the moon did was reveal the curse to other eyes. The memories were still fresh in their minds, and they shook to the roots of their human souls. It would never due for them to return to the rotted state of undead cursed pirates. Marita had a distinct dislike for smelly things. Other than the complete control over themselves . . . well, as much control that was available to them . . . was so much harder to keep, the desire to wantonly kill anyone and anything under the curse was overpowering. Anyway, to become a pair of walking rotting cursed undead pirates alone was different than being with thirty some odd (and some odder than others) walking rotting cursed undead pirates. Both felt quite sickened by the thought of being caught in the full moon, and it was a good brave thing indeed for Pintel to go out in the waxing moonlight to search for Marita. He had been most careful about staying in the shadows, as he searched for her, and he did try to find her at first. Every little growl or snuffle from Lucy set his nerves on edge. He forced Ragetti to agree that the next time such occurrence happened it was the tall lanky one eyed pirate's turn to prowl the moonlight.

This Saturday night, Pintel promptly closed the window and shrouded it with the curtains. Afterwards, he and Ragetti cleared off the table to play cards with two lamps glittering over their game. Although having their weekly wages at hand, they chose to not play poker, and they proceeded to play gin-rummy with the corresponding drinks at hand. Lucy laid at Pintel's feet and looked up at them with dejection written on his face. Because the bakery had been closed that day, there were no leftover donuts to be had. Therefore the dog had no extra treats all day, and the gin was a bitter drink. Not to mention, because Pintel was not out womanizing, neither was the dog.

The bakery was relatively quiet for a long time, if one didn't count Pintel's most colorful pirate curses at losing games and accusing his companion of cheating. Although he bakery was not opened on Sunday, Marita and Estella were usually up early for Sunday mass. The men, who had no intentions whatsoever of setting foot in a church, had planned to stay at home and sleep off the results of their game. They had various reasons for not wanting to attend any service involving God, including the fact that they felt it uncouth to steal at church, and there was the very real possibility that God may still be a bit peeved about their recent curse and the activities performed under the curse. They felt they may well get struck down by lightening or even worse if they dared to cross such a threshold.

Marita had given then a list of chores to be done without any hope of anyone being home or the chores being accomplished by them, although Ragetti assured her that they had intended to stay home that night. The younger man had a couple of minor cleaning chores and another reading lesson scheduled. Pintel got that special task of cleaning out the outhouse. When he griped about the injustice of the assignments, he was told in a none too gentle manner that it was poetic justice for his sticky fingered hobby. He didn't get where poetry had anything to do with it. He thought that maybe after awhile, he would get his companion, who was learning to write, to add some colorful poetic decor to the shack.

Pintel sat back in his chair that Saturday night. He had a decent hand going for himself this time around. The shattering of glass, that they weren't responsible for, broke up the game. The two pirates dropped their cards on the table. Blood drained from their faces, as they stood up. Lucy gave his deep bark and growl, as he stood up and ran to the door of the room.

"We're bein' robbed!" Ragetti exclaimed with wide eyes.

"Good at the obvious, ain't ye!" snarled Pintel, as he dove across his bed. He soon returned with Lieutenant Gillette's pistol. Making sure that it was loaded, he grabbed one of the lamps and headed for the door. He turned and looked to his spellbound partner, whose mouth was agape. "Comin'?" he inquired.

Ragetti nodded a silent agreement. He went for his pistol under the mattress. He had collected the pistol of Karl Schmidt the night after the illustrious card game with Estella. Marita's late husband no longer needed it, and she had St. Peter for her protection. Taking up his lamp, he gave Pintel another nod. The two men left their room with the big black dog in the lead.

The two men entered the kitchen and paused at the door to the store front. The older man held the growling dog back with his lamp wielding arm. The dog snarled and showed that vast array of sharp teeth, and the hair on the back of his neck bristled. Ragetti swallowed down the pounding lump in his throat. Pintel did not notice his sweating palms nor his pounding heart. Harsh whispers were heard through the door. Scuffling and crashes, as if things were being overturned, sounded.

"Bloody 'ell! There ain't nuttin' 'ere worth me effort!" one of them hissed rather loudly.

"Bah! Burn the place, I say!" came a second deeper voice tainted with a Spanish accent.

Pintel took a deep breath. He burst through the door first. The dog, no longer having any restraint, burst through the door and ahead of the man. Lucy leapt to the smaller of the two shadows. A struggle ensued, as the man beat the beast from his throat. The other invader bashed the dog with the end of his pistol to his head. A pitiful whine came from Lucy before he slammed into the floor. He remained there deathly still, as the intruders moved forward for the fight.

Pintel held up his lamp high and cleared his throat loudly to get the robber's attention. His light illuminated the stern dirty faces of the two hardened men. The one man, the one that Lucy had attacked, stood a slight bit taller than 5 feet. His long dirty hair could not be contained in his dirty bandana. His clothes were several sizes too big for him and were horribly mismatched. These clothes were as filthy as he was. His hazel eyes peered out of a shallow skeletal scarred weathered face. A scruffy grey beard lined his crooked jaw. He aimed his pistol with a claw like browned hand. His companion, who had attacked the dog, was a bronze skinned native American man. His uncovered midnight matted hair was pulled back and tied behind his head with a leather strip. His dark brown eyes bordering on black showed signs of an interior darkness, that made Pintel's insides tremble. He stood as tall as Ragetti, who was by no means a short man, and he was about as wide with a muscular body. A bird of prey was tattooed swooping over his right shoulder. The right wing of the bird was spread down the arm, and the left wing was not seen, since it was spread across the man's back. His clothes hung loosely enough to show most of the bird.

Pintel squinted his eyes and leveled the pistol in their direction. He spoke in a strong clear voice that defied his rising terror. "I think if ye be valuin' yer mangy 'ides, ye be leavin' now. There be nuttin' 'ere fer ye."

Ragetti held up his lamp and aimed his trembling pistol at the tall muscular native man. The one eyed man bit his lip and was determined to stay steady.

The scrawny mismatched pirate held his pistol at the ready for a moment longer, then a smile cracked across his face. He lowered his weapon and laughed. The native man shook his head and wondered if his companion had lost his mind.

"Pintel and Ragetti, it is, i'n't it?" he exclaimed through his relieved laughter, "And 'ere I thought we might be 'avin' a real fight on our 'ands!"
Ragetti frowned and lowered his pistol. He squinted his eyes at the dirty little man. The glint of gold reflected from his lamplight from the teeth in the robber's grinning mouth. The tall one eyed pirate let out the breath he was unconsciously holding.

"You're Nipperkin!" he cried out happily. He looked to the tall dark skinned man and smiled, "I don't know ye, but ya must be alright if ye be a friend to good ole Nippie!"
"Who are these people, amigo?" he asked his small wiry companion.

"Old crewmates of mine, I be sad to say. They be nuttin' to be worryin' 'bouts," Nipperkin remarked.

"'Ow ye escape the gallows?" the one eyed pirate asked cheerfully.

"Me and a couple of mates were stakin' out the ship fer loot when the tide turned. We 'id out till the ship came to port. A week later, Scratch, Dog Ear, and me joined up with the crew of The Raptor."

"We caused a diversion to our guards. Slipped the wool right o'er their eyes, we did. Then, we were able to slip into town," Ragetti happily told them.

The bronze skinned man looked over the tall lanky pirate with the goofy grin on his face and shook his head with disapproval. "I say that the British Navy must be bigger push overs than we expected, since they can't keep their hands on a couple of bastardos estupidos like you."

Ragetti's looked affronted. "I told Pintel 'ere once that me mum and da were married when I was born!" he protested.

"What are ye doin' 'ere?" Pintel demanded, as he raised his pistol again.

"What's it look like?" snarled the bigger man.

"Aye," added Nipperkin, "and what might ye be doin' 'ere in a bakery of all places? Ye can't e'en make 'ard tack without messin' it up!"
"We've been given sanctuary," Pintel replied.

"Hmpf!" the two raiding pirates remarked.

"What fool would be stupid 'nough to give a pair of twits as yerselves sanctuary?" Nipperkin demanded.

Ragetti opened his mouth to answer, but he caught the glare of his companion and snapped his mouth shut again.

"None of yer business," Pintel growled, "Under the rules of the Pirates' Code and the rules of sanctuary, ye be obliged to leave this 'ere establishment with eve'ything in tact. So, get out!"

"Since when?" remarked the wiry little man.

"Besides," added the other pirate with the flames flickering ominously in in his dark eyes, "There be no honor among thieves. You can either join us, or die in the flames, comprende?"

Pintel cocked his pistol. Ragetti continued to look hurted and confused. His companion elbowed him. The taller man shook his head and fumbled with his pistol. Then he followed suit and took aim at the robbers.

"Ye be really frightenin' there, mate," cackled Nipperkin, "Pintel, 'o can't 'it the deck of the ship, e'en if 'e were standin' on it, and Ragetti, 'o ne'er killed nobod'!"

"I killed someone!" the tall pirate protested with a raised pitch in his voice, "in that last battle 'fore the Royal Navy got us. I shot a man, as we came out of the lower decks."

"Shootin' a feller in the arm don't count as killin' 'im, 'specially when he becomes one of our jailers!" remarked Pintel.

"Right! I forgot that. 'E were right mad at me, too, 'e was," Ragetti answered as he blushed deeply, "I 'elped ye stab that soldier, remember?"

"Ya missed, boy. Di'n't ye notice that there were no blood on yer blade?" the older pirate commented.

"Ye ain't 'elpin' me case, 'Enry!" Ragetti complained, as his face became a livid red. He swallowed hard and looked back at the laughing invaders. "There's always a first time!"

The two intruders looked at each other a moment in silence, then they laughed harder. They moved to throw the torches into the piles of rubble and the curtains. Nipperkin's face lit up as he approached the unconscious dog with all intentions of burning him, as he rubbed the bleeding bit on his shoulder. A movement behind the defending pirates caught the robbers' eyes, and they stopped their advance. Wicked smiles crossed their lips. Their venture may be profitable yet, if it did not satisfy their sadistic streak. Ragetti felt his insides turn over and turn to ice, and Pintel's knees felt weak.

"What's going on, Uncle Tony, Uncle Henry?" asked the sleepy voice of Estella.

The defending pirates' eyes grew wide, and they each swallowed down a sizeable lump in their throats. Ragetti uttered a rather volatile curse. He glanced down at the wide eyed frightened child, clutching her rag doll close to herself. All color fled from his face, and his lunch wanted to revolt. He bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. He forced himself to control his bladder.

"Och," remarked Nipperkin, "What's we 'ave 'ere?"

"Ye leave the littl' lady out of this," Pintel barked.

"Join us, amigos, and take the child," the native man remarked, "We can fetch a decent ransom for her, and if it is not paid up, I know places where we can sell her."

"NO!!" Ragetti cried out.

"Then there is nuttin' fer it. They 'ave gone soft," the smaller man smirked, "I don't want to be listenin' to 'er cry all day and night, and we'd 'ave to share 'er price with the others. Just kill her and be done with it, then we can burn the blasted place!"

The big muscular man gave a hearty belly laugh, as he took aim at the little girl. Chaos ensued. The cocking of several weapons filled the room. Pintel did not think. He hurried to the counter and rather agilely jumped over it. He stumbled unsteadily as he reached the other side. He kept his feet as ran to the big man. Neither attacker expected him to do this. The older pirate knew that he was not the best of shots. He had to accomplish his goal at point blank. If he got shot in the process, so be it. It had been a fun few weeks. He had gotten to live after the curse. He wished that he had gotten to see Penny and the kids again, but oh well. Nipperkin fired off his shot hurriedly at the attacking pirate. This was not the Pintel he knew. It missed. The Indian fired his shot, as the older man approached. But it was aimed at Estella and not Pintel, the ball flew passed him. Pintel's shot went off. The shot was aimed at his head. It reached its target. His opponent collapsed dead. Panting, Pintel fell to his knees. He turned his head. Nipperkin was sprawled out in an unnatural pose. A red pool spread across the floor under his body. Wiping the sweat from his eyes, he turned around to see Marita, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. The smoking musket was in her hand. Her glassy eyes stared over the horrible scene. He could hear Estella's muffled sobs. A knot tied in his stomach. Ragetti was not in his sights. The older pirate got up to protesting shaking legs and went to the counter. A sigh of relief washed over his body, as he saw Ragetti's back to him. The younger pirate was crouched down on the floor. Estella's muffled tears came from his cradling arms. Everyone that was important was alright. The squat pirate limped over to the unconscious dog to check on him.

Marita woke from the daze. She threw aside her musket and ran to Ragetti and her daughter. Estella wept in her protective shelter, as the woman pried away the pirate's tightly embracing arms. She pulled the girl to herself and hugged her tightly. Tears began to tinkle down her cheeks. She pushed Estella back. The girl had only sustained some bruising from the force of Ragetti's protective attack.

The younger pirate finally cracked open his eyes to see the bleary image of the woman smoothing out her child's hair and wiping her tears. The man smiled unnoticed and climbed unsteadily to his feet. His body was cold and numb, as he turned to see his friend trying to revive the dog. He felt dizzy, as he swayed on his feet. Pintel looked up from his unconscious canine companion. Shock was written on his face, as he looked to his tall companion. Ragetti smiled dazedly back at him. The feeling returned as the adrenaline faded from his body. He felt cold liquid ooze slither down his left arm and run down his chest and back. His shoulder started to sting with the sweat. He moved his right hand to his shoulder. His fingers pulled away wet and sticky with blood. He smiled crookedly.

"'Enry, I'm bleedin'," he spoke dryly. His eye then rolled back in his head, and he collapsed in a heap on the floor.