Chapter 6

The pirates' view of the road from behind a burned-out dwelling revealed a score of soldiers camped out at its entrance. They even had a small fire as a few slept, some watched the village, and others patrolled the forest's edge. Hook and his men would definitely have to go around.

Without discussion, the group carefully backtracked a few blocks and then headed east, following the cobblestones past sullenly quiet buildings; their occupants either dead or sleeping off the horror of the earlier attack. When they had put enough distance between themselves and the soldiers at the road, they turned their steps southward and made for the forest.

It was painfully slow going once they entered the woods. The canopy filtered much of the night's moonlight, leaving very little to guide their way. Up in front, Casey, Ed, and Jukes didn't dare use their weapons to slash at protruding vegetation, in case the noise carried. Thus, they struggled through with bare hands, holding aside any particularly bothersome obstructions for their wounded captain to pass through. Apart from the occasional quiet curse, Hook was silent as he let his crew make the decisions for once. He lacked the energy to participate, and knew he likely wasn't thinking straight anyway. He winced, suppressed a shudder, and wished again that his flask weren't empty.

They traveled until just after dawn; until Hook was certain he couldn't take another step. As the men discussed whether it was too soon to stop, Smee caught his captain's glazed expression and made the decision for all of them.

"Over here, sir," Smee coaxed gently, and Hook allowed himself to be led to a clear patch of soil beneath a tree. The first mate lifted the coat from the captain's shoulders and then helped him to sit, which he did with a grimacing grunt. "Let's take a look."

The rest of the men headed off to scout their surroundings and forage for food or water, while Smee dug fresh bandages from his satchel. He thanked the fates he'd decided to restock while at Titus' place, when he could have easily assumed there would be no need.

Hook leaned back against the tree trunk, closing exhausted eyes and shivering slightly. He wormed his hand gingerly beneath his injured arm, grateful that the tingling seemed to be abating. The cool metal of the cuff slid up his forearm until it could go no further.

Smee began to cut away the old bandage, and Hook took a sharp, pained breath. He squirmed slightly and turned his face away, never opening his eyes. With a sympathetic wince, Smee peeled away the last layer and exposed the horrific wound beneath. It was swollen, inflamed; purple and black spreading downward as the bleeding continued beneath the skin. The stitches were holding, although if the swelling continued, the injury could very well split back open. Smee drizzled some of his precious water on a cloth and very lightly touched it to the wound. The captain's jaw tightened, his brow furrowed in anguish, but he made no sound.

Smee didn't know what else to do. Even if he thought cautery might help, it was too dangerous at the moment: any noise Hook made would certainly attract the attention of the nearby soldiers, as would the smoke from a fire. Leeches could reduce the swelling, but would reduce the blood volume they had risked so much to replace, and they didn't have any anyway. Reluctantly, Smee did the only thing available to him: he rebandaged the wound, tighter than was probably comfortable for Hook but with the intention of compressing the area as much as possible. Then he gave Hook the rest of his water. When the canteen was empty, Smee shaped his satchel into a pillow and set it beside the captain.

"Rest now, sir. We'll watch for soldiers."

Hook nodded blearily, and Smee assisted him onto the ground. The first mate draped the leather coat over his captain to act as a blanket, and Hook quickly slipped into an exhausted slumber.

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Hook woke to his first mate gently nudging his arm. Disoriented, the captain attempted to swat away the nuisance, but was jolted fully awake by the lance of agony in his opposite shoulder. He snarled his displeasure through gritted teeth.

"We found a stream, sir," Smee reported as he wiggled his canteen in front of Hook's face. "Water, and some trout."

"Sod off," murmured Hook, feeling the enticing pull of sleep. Smee pursed his lips.

"I know you don't feel much like eating or drinking, but it will help you feel better."

"The hell it will."

Hook was too weak to resist when Smee pulled him up, but he managed to stifle his groan of anguish. Smee leaned him gently against the nearby tree, and he allowed his head to drop back with a grimace. The two dark bruises surrounding healing punctures on either side of his neck gave the impression that he'd narrowly avoided having his throat ripped out by a wild beast. The first mate held the canteen to Hook's lips, and the captain growled and snatched it with his own feebly trembling hand. Smee sat back as Hook drank.

When he'd had enough, Hook tossed the canteen aside spitefully, and Smee scrambled to retrieve it before the rest of its contents were wasted in the dirt. Hook blinked back his weariness and took in their camp. Ed and Starkey stood watch, while Casey and Jukes lay dozing, headwear over their eyes. From the shadows cast by the surrounding trees, Hook could estimate the time to be mid-afternoon. They were well-concealed by vegetation, and no sounds from the road reached their position.

Smee held out a kerchief containing meat; Hook's stomach rolled. Normally, raw fish would not be so unappetizing to him, even the freshwater variety. He closed his eyes and shook his head quickly.

"One piece," Smee cajoled. "It's better than it looks."

"Where's my hook?" asked the captain suddenly.

"Safe, in my pocket," Smee assured him. "And your brace is in my satchel."

The first mate selected a cube of trout and placed it gently in Hook's hand. The captain shuddered, swallowed, and then opened his eyes. Smee inclined his head encouragingly; grumbling, Hook lifted his hand. He chewed, gagging, and forced himself to swallow the meat. But when Smee tried to offer more, Hook clenched his jaw and shook his head. After a few more moments of attempted persuasion, Smee gave up and allowed Hook to lie back down. He needed rest just as much as nourishment, if he were to have a chance at enduring the evening's travels.

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At the end of another night struggling through the dark woods, the pirates found themselves nearing the village neighboring the one they'd attacked. A couple of soldiers were posted on the road, but the forest's edges were unguarded; Hook's men could easily sneak in and steal what they liked from unprotected shops. As there was still at least an hour before dawn, they split up to do just that. Smee stayed back under cover with Hook, who was still weak and slightly feverish. The first mate had assigned Casey to try and find an apothecary, giving him a list of items to search for. Hook hadn't been too thrilled at the mention of leeches, and gave his own priority for the rest of the men: rum. Or any sort of brew. Anything to take the edge off.

The men began to return with the first birdsong, each smug in their success. They brought food, liquor, coin… and leeches.

Hook picked at a piece of bread, trying not to shudder as Smee applied the disgusting creatures to his swollen shoulder. The others ate ravenously while discussing their next move.

"What if we just stay 'round here? Haunt this village whenever we need supplies?" suggested Ed. But Starkey shook his head firmly.

"They'll be on guard now. Besides, we 'ave to keep moving 'til we're beyond the range of that blasted magical warning."

Starkey gestured toward Hook, who scowled at the reminder.

"Two days' journey?" asked Casey. "Is that by ship, or on foot?"

"'ell if I know," Starkey answered. No one else had any input, either. "Then… we assume it's by ship, and keep traveling, to be safe."

The others looked at Hook, who nodded weary assent.

"And then what?" wondered Jukes. "Find somewhere to hole up 'til we end up back in bloody Neverland?"

No one had any other suggestions, and they fell silent. Finally, Hook cast aside the bread and sighed reluctantly.

"We ought to put some distance between ourselves and the village, in case they miss their bloody leeches."

"Cap'n's right," agreed Starkey. "Maybe change directions, too. Wouldn't be too 'ard to connect us with their neighbors' calamity."

Smee handed a cup of liquid to Hook, who raised an eyebrow.

"To combat fever," Smee explained quietly, looking pointedly at the discarded bread. "Is that all you're going to eat?"

"Aye," growled Hook, before tossing back Smee's concoction. He screwed his eyes shut and took shallow breaths until the urge to vomit lessened, then glowered at his first mate. Unintimidated, Smee tugged the cup from his fingers.

The others quickly packed up their supplies, and Smee helped Hook to his feet. When his coat was again draped over his shoulders, the pirates set out eastward into the forest.