Chapter 108 – Deceived by hope
Ulloa and all his men, including the passengers willing to defend themselves and their families, fought bravely against the pirates, but it was an unequal battle, lost right from the start. Outnumbered and outskilled, it was inevitable: shortly after the pirates boarded the Santa Eulalia, most of the crew and passengers lay on the bloody deck boards, seriously injured or already dead.
Captain Ulloa, the first officer Ojeda, and able seamen García, all with military experience, managed to hold on the longest, dispatching a few pirates each while only receiving superficial cuts. Ulloa and Ojeda ended up fighting back to back, but it didn't take long before they were surrounded by blades, in a totally hopeless situation.
"Give up now, and you may live," De Soto said to the last two fighters still standing after his men gored García, positioning himself a safe distance in front of Ulloa, who looked quite unpredictable and dangerous with a blade on each hand, a sword and a dagger, both dripping with blood.
"You raised the red," Ulloa spat, with his sword still up. He looked ready to lunge, almost growling and baring teeth like a wild dog. "I didn't count on living."
"Suit yourself," De Soto said, taking the last loaded gun he carried in his belt to aim at Ulloa, always easier than using a sword. "But before you go to hell, capullo, please tell me: who's the guy in black? Your captain?"
Ulloa didn't reply, so Ojeda stepped in.
"Yes, he is. Pirate Roberts."
The real pirates laughed then, greatly amused.
"Roberts? Un perro inglés? I'm shaking in my boots," De Soto said, also chuckling. He looked around, trying to spot the man in black in the piles of dead or injured men that covered the main deck. "Pirate Roberts… Where the fuck is he? Can't see'im."
Ulloa looked back to the tangled mess of spars of the fallen mast, spotting Diego's black boots sticking out from beneath the canvas. He wasn't moving, likely killed by the impact, but he couldn't be sure.
Is that all you could do, Zorro? Goddammit! We never had a chance!
"Dead," Ulloa said then, facing De Soto again. "You won't find him. He fell overboard."
"Who's the second in command?"
"That would be me."
"All right. As I said, give up now, and you may live."
Ojeda, already bleeding badly from the untreated wound he had on his side, was keener on that offer than the captain, so he gave up his blade first, dropping it at his feet.
"I'm sorry, Sir. I'm done."
Ulloa didn't believe De Soto's promise, but he thought that, in the unlikely case that son of a bitch could keep his word, he owed Ojeda the chance to live another day, so maybe he could reunite with his family again. However, as Ulloa didn't have a family or anything as worthy to look forward to, if he had to meet his maker that afternoon, he preferred a quick death rather than risking torture, or even maiming at the hands of those degenerates. For that reason, he hesitated for a few more seconds, until he remembered how Victoria de la Vega should be about to blow up the whole ship. Then, he also let go of his sword and dagger, because it didn't matter anymore. Immediately, the pirates rough-handled them, searching for other weapons, seizing the other dagger Ulloa still kept in the sash.
"Wise move," De Soto said, only moving closer to Ulloa when his men gave him the all-clear. "What's in the hold?"
"Nothing of value," Ulloa said.
De Soto signalled to his second. Bustamante nodded, and then punched Ulloa's abdomen pretty hard, sinking his fist under the ribs. Bent over by the blow, the captain swallowed his cry, unwilling to give them the satisfaction of showing any pain, knowing all too well he had just landed the first blow of many.
"Where are the women?"
"There are no women left on board," Ulloa said, out of breath. "We used them all already. They are dead."
Bustamante hit him again, this time on the side of his face, so hard he staggered and fell on his knees, stunned.
"Stop the nonsense, soplapollas! You're no pirates. But there are women on board," De Soto said, pointing at the red blouse still flapping on the wind at the top of the damaged main mast. "Where are they?"
Ulloa looked up to reply as defiantly as he could, under the circumstances.
"Go to hell!"
Despite his determination for not showing any pain, when the next kick landed on his crotch, he cried out. The terrible blow left him out of action and without any will to live, curled on his side over the deck boards, groaning in anger, pain, and frustration, while the pirates laughed their asses off.
"Never mind. Boys, search the whole ship! Check the cargo, and find them ladies! They must be hiding somewhere!"
While most of the pirates searched the ship, the remaining ones gathered the few survivors in a small group. De Soto kicked the fallen man a few more times before he asked for another bottle of rum, sharing it with Bustamante.
ZZZ
At the cockpit in the lower deck, Almeida was still treating the wounded when the pirates stormed in. They grabbed him to take him outside in the middle of a gruesome procedure, but he objected strongly, trying to finish what he was doing, to save that man's life.
"Wait! Let me finish with him!"
"Don't worry, I'll finish him off for ya!" the closest pirate said, cutting that man's throat with a swift move of his knife.
"Son of a bitch!"
Another pirate hit Almeida's back between the shoulders, and the Andalusian dropped down to the blood-soaked floor, stunned.
"Look, I'm only doing them a favour, sending these poor bastards to hell faster," the pirate with the knife said, dispatching another three injured men without batting an eyelid. It became crystal clear for Almeida those men found no value in human life whatsoever.
Horrified, Terrance tried to ran away, but the pirates held him down, laughing.
"And look what we got here! We'll make a good pirate out of this one!"
Two pirates took Almeida and Terrance away while the rest killed all the badly injured men, before they carried on searching the lower decks.
ZZZ
Don Enrique and Lorenzo Martín, the angry caballero who had pushed the captain twice, hid in one of the berths, armed to the teeth, hoarding weapons that would have come in handy to the rest of the passengers and crew. They waited in silence with their guns ready on shaky hands. With all those weapons, they could have resisted for a while, but when the pirates kicked the door, they panicked and surrendered at once, not firing a single shot.
"Please, don't kill us!" Don Enrique said, dropping his gun, hands in the air. "We have money. A lot!"
"Yes! We are rich!" Lorenzo said.
"Are ye?" one of the pirates said, laughing at their cowardice. "Come on then. You'll tell the cap'n where ye keep all your riches."
ZZZ
Down at the cargo hold, the women realized the battle had come to an end, as they couldn't hear any more screams, shots, commotion, and the cling-clang of the swords. As a precaution, Victoria shielded the flame with her hand, so it didn't reflect so much light, giving away their position.
"Gather around, please. Come closer to the barrel," she whispered.
"Oh, my God!" Doña Margarita said. "You mean…"
"I don't know who won, but we must be ready for the worst!"
José Hidalgo grabbed the old musket, positioning himself in front of the door, as planned.
"Hold on for now, until we are sure," he recommended.
Soon, they heard voices and laughs, of men entering the cargo hold.
"Lookie here… Wow, it's well loaded!" one of them said, tapping the nearest crate.
"We need a light. I can't see batshit down here."
Victoria hesitated with the live flame, reluctant to do what she knew she had to do, praying with all her soul they were mistaken, and those men that came down to the hold weren't pirates. Mary-Jo covered her little daughter's mouth, so she would not make a noise, while they still had not been spotted.
The men returned to the upper deck, and the women could relax for a moment, staying alive a bit longer while wondering if any of their loved ones had survived.
ZZZ
"Look what we found, Cap'n! A doctor and his helper," one of the pirates said, pushing Almeida forward with his gun. The two prisoners joined the small group of survivors held at gun point at the main deck.
"A doctor?" De Soto said, excited. "Great, we need one aboard!"
Almeida and the boy were a sorry sight, looking exhausted, all covered in blood.
"You all right?" Ulloa asked after Ojeda helped him up, once he had recovered from that mean, ball-busting blow.
"Yes, Cap'n. The blood's not ours," Almeida said.
"Cap'n?" Bustamante said, pointing at him with the nearly empty bottle. "I thought you said your captain was… How did you call him? Pirate Rivers?"
"I command the ship, but Roberts is the boss," Ulloa said, standing tall again thanks to the leftovers of dignity and self-respect he still possessed. Then, he corrected himself. "Was the boss."
"I saw you at the wheel!" De Soto said then. "All my bullets passed you by, you lucky sod… Most impressive helmanship, though. Specially that feckin' move you pulled to rack our stern." That thought prompted him to use his own fist to whack Ulloa again in petty revenge, hitting his mouth this time. "Heck, maybe you'll survive, for real, if you cooperate. We could make good use of your skills at the helm, don't we boys?"
The stocky man from Guetaria spat some blood from his bleeding mouth, seething with rage. Unable to refrain himself, he replied:
"Not a chance in hell, son of a bitch!"
De Soto punched Ulloa's face a second time, so hard Ojeda had to hold him up so he wouldn't fall on his back. Through that cloud of pain, with a broken nose, Ulloa thought that the way he was going, with that physical punishment, he would be unconscious or even dead by the time the ship would blow up. Ojeda had a similar thought, and tried to reassure him.
"Hold on, Sir. Don't antagonize him," the first officer whispered. "It won't take long now."
Ulloa nodded, and made a great effort to stand up again. He wasn't tall like De la Vega, or Almeida, but he could still glare at De Soto from above with pure hatred, as the pirate captain was remarkably short. Probably, all that meanness and cruelty he carried inside didn't let him grow as a child.
That random thought curved a bit the corner of Ulloa's split lip, in a smirk that infuriated De Soto like a bee sting on his ass.
"On your knees!" De Soto roared. "NOW!"
As Ulloa failed to comply, De Soto nodded to one of his men, who sank his musket on the captain's side, over his liver. Ulloa dropped on his hands and knees at once, crying in pain one more time, despite is determination not to.
"Bastard! Live him alone!" Almeida cried, trying to help the captain, but one of the pirates stopped him, with a sword pointing at his chest.
"That's it, motherfucker! First step: down on your knees," De Soto said, laughing, ignoring Almeida. "Now, kiss my boots. Or better still: lick them clean."
"Fuck you!" Ulloa managed to say while gasping for air, too proud to be humiliated like that, ignoring Ojeda's advice to keep quiet, wishing it would all be over soon, as the officer said. What's taking you so long, woman? For Christ's sake! Isn't it obvious we lost?
De Soto laughed again at Ulloa's pointless gestures of defiance, greatly entertained.
"This is just an exercise in obedience, Cap'n, for everybody to see what we expect from you, bunch of losers," De Soto said while looking at Almeida intently. He could do with that captain at the helm, but what he really wanted was a cooperating doctor, and that tall, dark skinned man, didn't look like the submissive kind either. "But if you don't play the game, you piece of shit, I'll kill off your crew, one by one, starting with… him."
He pulled his gun at Ojeda and held it resting on his forehead, waiting with a hideous smile on his face, enjoying the moment. Ulloa growled in frustration again, ready to give up, attack De Soto with his bare hands, and have them all killed right there and then. However, from his position on the floor, he saw something that gave him a smidgen of hope: Diego's boots had disappeared, no longer visible under the canvas. Did that mean he was alive? And if he was, could he do something to help in that desperate situation?
He looked up, at Ojeda, who stood still, stoically facing that gun, also unwilling to show any fear, despite how pale he looked due to the uncontained blood loss from his wound.
"No!" Ulloa cried. "Wait!"
He wasn't sure it would make any difference, but if by any chance De la Vega could help somehow, he should try to keep everybody alive for as long as possible. Swallowing his pride, he leaned over to kiss De Soto's boots.
"No, no. What are you doing, asshole?" the psychopath said, tutting. "I said: lick them."
Ulloa hesitated again, seething with anger. That was too much. Way too much.
"No! Don't do it, Cap'n!" Almeida said, but one of the pirates hit his solar plexus with his musket butt, and the Andalusian couldn't say another word for a while, bent over with the pain, hardly able to breathe.
"I'm waiting…" De Soto said, pressing harder on Ojeda's forehead with the barrel's end. "I'll give you three seconds: One… Two…"
De la Vega, if you are around, you better move your ass! Ulloa thought, leaning over for the second time to lick the filthy leather. It was revolting, so much he thought he could puke again.
"It wasn't that difficult, was it?" De Soto said, grinning evilly. He kicked Ulloa's face then, and while the captain fell on his side, he pulled the trigger nonetheless.
ZZZ
Diego woke up face down on the deck boards, under the fallen, main sail canvas. For a moment, he didn't know where he was, or what had happened. Until he heard the voice of the pirate captain.
"Where are the women?"
Those words got him immediately on full alert. He slowly moved all his limbs, glad to know he didn't have any broken bones, despite the dull ache and pain he felt in his whole body, trapped under the main boom that crushed his back. He quickly thought of a new strategy. It was pointless to regret what had happened: it looked like he had been out of action for a while, and the pirates had already gained command of the ship.
He pondered on his chances while the pirates whacked Ulloa. He didn't have many, but there was still hope, at least until Victoria would follow orders and blew up the ship.
"Never mind. Boys, search the whole ship! Check the cargo, and find them ladies! They must be hiding somewhere!"
He had to hurry up. While most of the pirates went below deck, Diego tried to get free of the heavy boom, but it wasn't easy. Not while he was trying to do it as silently as possible, so the pirates wouldn't notice him moving under the canvas. By the time he managed to set himself free of that heavy load, a gun went off.
"Bastardo hijo de puta!" Ulloa cried from the floor, earning himself a few more kicks all over.
While getting ready to come out in the open and do something, Diego heard the irritating voice of Don Enrique, and shortly after, he knew what the word hatred really meant.
ZZZ
"We found another two, Cap'n! A couple of rich cowards who didn't have the balls to fight," one of the pirates said, pushing Don Enrique and Lorenzo so they walked forward, closer to the group. When De Soto was done kicking Ulloa, he tossed the empty gun to grab the bottle of rum from Bustamante, and finished it off in longs swigs. Then, he turned to look at the two caballeros.
"How rich?"
Don Enrique swallowed hard, shocked by the number of dead and injured bodies he could see all around, starting with the closest one, the first officer Ojeda, who lay in front of him with his brains blown off.
"Rich enough to live another day. Besides, I have important information to give you in exchange of our lives. But we have to hurry up."
"Why? What's up?"
"Before I tell you, you have to promise you'll let us live and go free," Don Enrique said, pointing at himself and the other caballero.
"I don't negotiate with cowards, scumbag!" De Soto said, already too drunk.
"Listen! Unless you let us get to that cargo hold first, we are all going to die!"
"Shut up, cobarde hijo de perra!" Ulloa growled from the floor, trying to get up again. De Soto smashed the empty bottle on his head, finally knocking him out cold.
"What do you mean? Explosives?" Bustamante said.
"Yes. The women are hiding at the hold with a barrel of gunpowder. If they see your men first, they'll blow up the ship."
"Cabrón de mierda!" Almeida cried, getting up to hit Don Enrique, but Bustamante hit him first while the obnoxious caballero stepped back, with a blow that landed the contramaestre on the deck, close to the captain.
"Promise you'll let us go, and I'll stop them before it's too late!" Don Enrique cried.
"All right! Go down to the hold with them!" De Soto ordered to his men, considering if he should return to the Burla Negra, taking that threat seriously. "Make sure this isn't a trick!"
ZZZ
Diego could not believe Don Enrique Salamero could be so selfish as to give away their plan and allow the women on board to be captured, only to save his sorry arse. Something that would not happen, anyway, because the pirates would very likely dispose of him in the end, ignoring their deal. But Don Enrique was too stupid to see that. And Victoria, with the hope that they had really won, and against her good judgement, would surely abandon the plan, not following through.
He carefully had a peek from under the canvas. Everybody, including the pirate captain, looked the other way, their backs to him. He considered for a moment attacking De Soto from behind, but he didn't because he knew his best chance was boarding the Burla Negra, still hooked up to the damaged Santa Eulalia. He had to make sure that, if anybody survived the day, they would not be followed by that damn black ship. Otherwise, any attempt to fight and get away from the pirates would be pointless, because they would chase them again, back to square one.
He grabbed his sword, crawled from under the sail, and silently made his way to the other ship, carefully avoiding the only two pirates who remained on deck. Once aboard, he headed for the hatch, and ultimately, the gunroom.
ZZZ
The women sighed with relief when they heard the two caballeros at the cargo hold, looking for them.
"Doña de la Vega, it's over," Don Enrique said, lifting his lantern up so he could see a bit better in that confined, dark place. "Where are you?"
"Over here!" one of the women called, although Victoria wanted to be more cautious.
"What happened? Did we win?" Victoria said.
"Yes, we did!" Don Enrique lied, coming closer to the hideout door, still locked.
"Who were those men that came down before?"
Don Enrique didn't know what to say to that, so Lorenzo took over.
"Deckhands, I believe, surveying the damage to the ship."
Victoria looked at José. The old man shook his head. Their explanations stunk. And Don Enrique looked like a slimy liar that could not be trusted at the best of times, anyway.
"Where is my husband? Why is he not here with you? Is he dead, or injured?"
"Uh… I don't think so, but I haven't seen him for a while," Lorenzo said.
"Why don't I believe a word you are saying?"
"Well, you should, because it's the truth," Don Enrique said, impatient. "I saw your husband. He is injured, but nothing serious. Open the door, please, and go up to the upper deck to see for yourself. And be careful with that flame, please. You don't want to accidentally blow us up now that it's over."
With the candle shaking in her hand, Victoria hesitated. If Diego was still alive, she wanted to grasp at that slight chance that he could still work a miracle, as Zorro often did at the last minute, and they would all survive, even if this was obviously a trap. Or she could apply that flame to the wick right then and they would all blow up. She looked at Doña Margarita. The older woman met her gaze, and slightly shook her head when Victoria nodded to the barrel. It looked like hope was trumping everybody's common sense.
An anxious woman grabbed the key from Marta's hands, willing to open the door, and when Victoria complained, another one blew off the candle.
Overall, it had been a good plan designed to avoid a greater suffering, but in the end, it was only human nature: while there was life, there was hope. The moment that woman unlocked the door, a bunch of pirates stormed the cargo hold. José Hidalgo fired his only shot, killing one of them, but another one ran his sword through his chest in retaliation while his wife and granddaughter screamed, horrified.
"Come on, ladies, let's get you some fresh air!" one of the vile pirates said, laughing callously as he dragged the first woman upstairs, pulling from her hair, as she kicked and screamed, mad with fear.
ZZZZZ