Chapter X – Collision
The door creaked open. Michael laid there for a moment, eyes shut, waiting to hear someone enter. But no one did. He heard footsteps leaving the room, then someone clamber up the stairs, but that was all. His eyes flew open, this having happened just as he woke up. If anyone came in, he wanted to feign sleep. But . . .
His door was open.
He looked to it and sat up, immediately realising that his binds had been cut. They were hanging loosely off Jack's bed. Someone must have cut them during the night.
Monkey chittered, sitting on the captain's table, watching his master.
"I think, matie, they're lettin' us out," Michael murmured, rubbing his arms then getting out of the bed. Monkey leapt up and landed heavily on the first mate's shoulder, but sat there like a good pet.
Edging his way out of the captain's quarters, Michael glanced around the corridor. No one was there, so he headed to the staircase. Immediately he realised how much better he was feeling and that he was in a lot less pain. A bit of an ache filled his body, but not much else.
Making it up the steps with relative ease (at least compared to his earlier escapades), the hatch already open, he climbed up onto deck. Monkey stayed put, but swayed a bit with his master's movements. He chastised Michael for moving him around so much, but was ignored. The young man's eyes swept across the deck, up to the helm where Jack was standing, focused on something in the distance. Then his kholed eyes blinked, trailing slowly to where Michael stood, although not moving another part of his body.
"Matie!" he cried, finally moving and waving him over, "look here." He proffered a battered telescope and waited for Michael to walk over. When he was standing beside the captain, the first mate took the telescope and peered out into the waters Jack was pointing to.
"A ship," he murmured wickedly, an eager expression coming over his face.
"I gave the orders for ye to leave yer room," he gave Michael a look, "savvy?"
"Yes sir," Michael clipped, strolling to the mainmast, where a few men were working. He held out the telescope and gave his orders. "Git in the crow's-nest and keep watch."
One of the men nodded and took the telescope, then slowly climbed up the mast. Michael continued walking to the bow and kneeled down at the very end, using his hand to shield out the sun to see better. Monkey imitated him on his shoulder. He had one knee on the wood, his other knee bent up, supporting him. He watched, staying in this position, trying to judge how fast the other ship was going. Of course it didn't matter, because the Pearl was the fastest ship in the Caribbean, but he just wanted to figure out how long it would take them to catch up.
"We're startin' to gain distance!" the pirate in the crow's-nest shouted down to Michael and the captain. Jack stood at his wheel, pleased as punch with a maniacal smile on his face, as Michael's muscles began to cramp up. But no matter. Pushing himself to the limit would get his body working in no time. He had no choice, anyway. The captain let him out for this, and he would prove that it was not a mistake.
It wasn't until the Pearl began chopping through the waves that Michael realised how fast they were going. And the speck of ship that had been pretty much the same size for the past five minutes was rapidly growing larger.
When the ship was in full view and they were no more than five minutes to catching them, the first mate realised something.
Sliding down onto the deck, he ran back to the wheel, Monkey screeching unhappily.
"Cap'n!" he gasped, clutching his chest.
"What?"
"It's not one ship, it's two!"
Jack paused and looked up at Michael with a slightly thoughtful expression. Then he grinned with a smirk. "Then ye take one, and I take the other, savvy?"
"Yes sir," he said quickly, sharing the same zealous grin. They nodded to each other and bowed away. For them this wasn't work, it was time to play.
Michael returned to the middle mast and shouted up it, "Git yer scurvy arse down 'ere!" Lowering his face to the crew, he took a deep breath and roared, "All 'ands on deck!"
There was a flourish of movement and Michael clapped his hands behind his back, chest out. He paced before the assembled group, Jack still happily at the helm.
"Al'ight men," he growled, "we have two ships ter plunder. The cap'n and me, we're splittin' this up. Half of ye come wit me, the other half go wit the cap'n. Got it?"
They nodded and split up. One group was slightly larger than the other, but that was alright. Jack probably could have taken on a whole ship by himself. Or at least would try if given the chance.
When they were coming upside the two ships, one of them slightly behind the other – the pirates suspected it was for safety – Michael went to his group and Jack joined his. Both leaders walked out onto a plank each and waited to close the distance. By now, the English had figured out that they couldn't run any longer and began firing at the Black Pearl and her crew.
"Stop puttin' holes in my ship!" Jack shouted at them, hating it when the Pearl was hurt. Turning to his first mate, he commanded, "Now!" and both he and Michael sprung up into the air, flying onto the decks of the ships from the air.
The soldiers stared, open mouthed at Jack as he landed on one foot, bringing the other around for balance. He lifted his arms in a half shrug.
"You're Jack Sparrow," one of them spat, the group moving closer.
"Ah," he said, taking his hat off and bowing slightly, "that's Captain Jack Sparrow." He returned his hat to his head as his men ran across a plank they had set up between the Pearl and the English ship. Jack was surrounded by his pirates and they started fighting.
Michael, on the other hand, landed nimbly like a cat, eyes darting about. His men (and Anamaria) gathered onto the ship, across a plank they had also set up.
"Search fer booty," he shouted, "kill who ye need ta. No quarter!" With that he whipped out his pistol and drew his sword, running across the deck. It was an all-out battle, redcoats and pirates both going down. Michael sent a group of his crew to search out the areas below deck then told Anamaria to take over the helm with whomsoever she chose. She nodded, cutlass firmly gripped in her hand, and set off. As she was fighting her way through the throngs and for control of the ship with her group of men, the search-and-destroy group got down the stairs, Michael taking control above them. Once deeper in the ship, they looked around a bit. Then the pirates noticed five soldiers standing guard of a door.
The soldiers turned and began firing, killing one of the pirates. The others lunged, killing eagerly, wanting to see what they were guarding. It had to be masses of gold; or if the captain was really lucky, rum.
When five solders and two pirates lay on the ground, bleeding and dead, the two pirates still standing threw open the door.
Their jaws dropped.
Michael dodged between warring men, was skimmed by bullets and blades a few times then clapped Thomas on the shoulder, startling the man. The first mate was nearly run through by the cabin boy who turned, reacting automatically, ready to stab; but he quickly halted when he saw who it was. His cutlass lowered to his side, almost seeming to droop. Michael snarled, but said:
"Ye were in university, right boy?"
"Yes, why?" he said as he retracted his cutlass.
"Don't question me boy!" He spat on the deck. "Ye learned about ships, right?"
"Well, yes."
"Then git on the Pearl and keep 'er steady!" He pushed Thomas away and took his place fighting. Thomas leapt over to the Pearl, dodging men like Michael had earlier and took control of the helm. The Pearl steadied out as British soldiers were knocked out, killed and disarmed. Before an hour was up, Michael walked around the deck, very happy. Many of the men were bound and miserable – it would have been too much to kill them all in one go so they killed who they could, binding up others when possible and tossing them aside for later disposal. The first mate had, after all, called no quarter for these dogs. So along he strolled, casually slitting throats as he pleased, watching the blood ooze out of the men, eyes glazing over. His eyes however, were lit up and fascinated. He couldn't be more content.
Jack and the rest of the crew bounded over to the ship Michael was on, finished on their end. It was just extra protection for this ship, although they wouldn't say why, even after Jack killed a few soldiers. So, figuring there were more important things here, they leapt over, letting the other ship escape: it didn't matter to him anyway. If they told Norrington what happened, so be it. He and his crew were already hunted down, and he had tried for a long time to capture Jack anyway. An appearance by the Commodore would be nothing new. So the other ship sailed away with a fair number of corpses on it.
"Monkey!"
Monkey ran through the ship at the sound of his master's voice, bag around his neck as usual. He leapt up onto Michael's shoulder and dropped the bag into his hand.
"Good Monkey," he said inattentively, feeling the weight of the bag.
Jack surveyed the ship then began gesticulating as he spoke. "Fer someone's who's been locked away fer months on end, ye did a good job, lo . . . lad."
Smirking, Michael stuffed the bag into his pocket. Just then they heard screaming and the sounds of men coming up stairs.
The two pirates who had been part of the search group Michael had sent came up on deck, one with a woman thrown over his shoulder. They put her down, but held her wrists firmly as she attempted to struggle, still shrieking.
"We found 'er down there, sirs."
Michael studied her, eyes widening for a split second, before smothering all reactions.
"Bring her over," he sneered as a few other pirates went below to take up where their compatriots had left off. He rolled a smoke and lit a match with his dirt encrusted nail. Puffing, he looked around then jerked his head towards the Black Pearl. A moment later, the three pirates who had gone into the bowels came up with a few bottles of rum. They poured it over the deck as Michael glanced at Jack. The captain nodded painfully and took the crew back to their ship. A few crates were tossed onto the Pearl, but nothing major. It didn't seem that much booty had been on the ship but what there was, they had gathered. They didn't bother speaking to their captain or first mate about it, just ran off the English ship. As Michael finished his cigarette, he went to the plank and stood there, picked some lint off his pants, then tossed the glowing paper onto the alcohol soaked ship. He went casually over to the Pearl, hopped off the bulwark and clapped his hands together a few times, brushing them off even as a fire roared and heated his back.
He turned to the men. "Open the crates," he spat impatiently, moving to Jack, standing beside him. They froze when two of the crates were filled with woman's things and only one of the crates had rum in it.
The situation seemed to finally dawn on the woman. "My dresses!"
Michael's jaw dropped open as he sank to his knees. "The gold!" Where were the crates the men were supposed to grab?
Jack was nearly in tears as he sank down beside his first mate. "The rum!"
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Hmm, I wonder what's in store for everyone? Hmmm . . . Again, Mika is no where to be found. But I will find her! I vow it! And um, cookies to Sweet A.K, surge1 and Lottie du Bois.
Damn, look at all those other bloody stories! Hundreds of reviews *pouts* not bloody fair!
Pllleeeeeaaasse! Review! *hands out more cookies*
Sukkumbus and [the absent] Mika
(PS: I was actually considering making this two chapters or something, I might do that later … what do you guys think? Stretching this out a bit more?)