(Disclaimer: I own nothing.)
Just the Way it Should Be
"Outta' me way!"
Pintel forced his way down the stairs, elbowing several crewman out of the way in the process, then staggered onto the crowded wooden floor. He was below deck now, and he was in the crew's quarters. There was another second of hesitation as he looked around, then he clenched his jaw and resumed his desperate search. Ragetti had to be down here somewhere.
Wood came barreling past him just then, looking like he wanted to punch the next person who gave him an order. Pintel scowled mentally at the younger man and made his way over to where the gunpowder barrels were stacked. When he found it though, the spot was completely empty. The barrels—and the cargo they'd been concealing—were gone. The pirate felt a wave of nausea hit him as this fact sank in.
And then he realized what Wood had been carrying.
Pintel did an enormous double-take and gawked at the rapidly departing crewman. Wood had a heavy burlap sack slung over his shoulder, and the weight of the load seemed to be slowing him down slightly. Pintel squinted harder at the sack. It looked old, like it'd just been snatched off the muddy street, and it was large. Large enough to hold a child…
The balding sailor could feel his heart stop. That was the sack. That was the same burlap sack that he'd used to sneak Ragetti on board the ship, and Wood was carrying it away. The powder barrels were gone and there was no sign of Ragetti anywhere. That boy had been the only person who'd used or even seen the sack since it'd been brought on board.
Another feeling of dread hit Pintel and he cursed. He'd found the lad. Then without another thought, he turned and took off in the same direction that he'd come from.
Back across the room, up the steps and out onto the deck. Wood was taking a straight route to the port rail, and Pintel was quickly gaining on him in his haste. Finally, not two meters from the edge, the older pirate caught up to his target and grabbed the end of the sack.
"'Ere lad!" he chirped nervously, "How's 'bout I takes care o' this for yeh?"
Wood spun around with confusion. "What're you doing?" he demanded as he wrenched the load away. "Get off!"
But Pintel was persistent. "No no no!" He latched onto the sack again, yanking Wood backwards sharply. "You—eh—you doesn't know 'ow t'toss it!"
"I don't know how to toss it?" the dreadlocked man echoed, staring at the other like he was a short, bald loony.
"Aye! Yeh sees, you admits it!" Pintel pointed out wildly. He tugged the burlap bag harder. "Yeh ain't got the arms for it! Let a full-grown fellow 'ave at this load!" He was trying to stay calm. He had to stay calm.
Wood's baffled face suddenly twisted into a snarl. "Let go! Let go of it!" They were practically in a tug-of-war over the sack now. "Let go, you daft idiot!"
"It's my bag! I'm entitled to 'old onto it!" Pintel was trying to hide his desperation under a growl. The two pirates had never liked each other, and it was finally starting to show at this point in the struggle. "You let go, whelp!"
But Wood had a fuse even shorter than his opponent's, and when the shorter man refused to leave him alone, that fuse reached its end with a nasty spark.
"I said let go!"
Pintel barely had time to react. One second, Wood was yanking at his end of the sack with a death grip, and the next, he had his sword drawn. The gritty blade swung out threateningly, and in an instant of blind panic, its stocky target did the first thing his instincts told him to do. He ducked behind the sack.
WOOSH!
"OW!"
The sharp little voice squealed the moment the sword connected with the bag, and Pintel jerked back up with realization when he heard it. Wood heard the yelp as well, but he hadn't been expecting it. His hands sprang open with shock, and his adversary was sent stumbling back as the sack slipped from their grasp.
No sooner had this happened than the contents of the bag came tumbling dizzily out into view.
Unhurt, Ragetti hit the deck with a sickening thud, and nearly every crewman on deck whipped his head around like a shot at the sound. The boy's arrival onto the scene was as sudden and startling as a mad demon's, and nothing could hide him from their disbelieving eyes anymore. Still, the scrawny child sought his protection, and the moment he dropped onto the planks, he sprang to his feet and latched fearfully onto Pintel's arm. But his older companion shook him off roughly.
"Get off me!" Pintel snapped brusquely, panicking. He was still trying to hide his part in their exposed plot. "Get off!"
When Ragetti latched onto his heavy sleeve a second time, the angry buccaneer only flung him away even more harshly, sending the boy crashing painfully onto the deck again. Wood stiffened noticeably at this.
But even this mistreatment wasn't enough, and Ragetti immediately wrapped his bony arms around Pintel's once more. The boy's terrified eyes were glued to something ahead of them, and seeing this, his indignant defender looked up to follow his gaze. Then he froze.
High above them on the quarterdeck, Pellinore was glowering back.
Pintel's nervous eyes grew wide, and he frantically searched his spinning head for something to say. Finally, the cornered crewman grinned sheepishly and forced out a chuckle.
"Uh…" He lifted his arms in an animated shrug. "Kids! Never know wot they'll do next!"
But the captain's cold, angry face didn't falter.
"Captain Pellinore!" Owl Eyes shouted again from the crow's nest. "We doesn't be gaining much speed! That Vasudeva's Folly's coming closer to us!"
The Englishman removed his glare from Pintel at last and looked up worriedly at the cook. "She's catching up?"
"Yes! Very close, very bad, Sir!"
Pellinore lowered his head and immediately turned fearful. It seemed that the captain was out of ideas now. Again, he regarded his perplexed crew.
"…Continue with the plan. Throw away anything you have with you!"
The crew set back to it without question, leaving Pintel and Ragetti standing tensely by the rail, alone. From that spot, the older of the two schemers could see the Folly's sails on the horizon. It was an imposing vessel, and its high, unmoving sails and silent black deck made the sight of it nothing short of frightening. And it was rapidly growing closer with the blowing of the wind.
Ragetti gaped at this newest threat unblinkingly, still clutching his companion's sleeve. Pintel stepped back with caution, equally awestruck. There was no way the Glass Urchin was going to outrun that thing, and he had a feeling that Scarborough wasn't in a better mood than he'd been in six hours ago…
Pintel glanced down at Ragetti just then, and quickly moved the boy back with a nudge of his arm. It was just the two of them now, and once the clinging ten-year-old was a good distance away from his waist, the older man reached down with his free hand and defensively drew his last weapon—his cutlass.
This was going to be bad.
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Soon to be updated!
