Adrift

by Travis Smith

  “Thank goodness for that,” The Stranger said, snatching his hands free and taking the ring of keys over to the door. He slowly unlocked the door and inched it open, peering and listening through the crack for signs of anyone standing guard nearby.

  Satisfied that no one was around, the pair snuck out of the cellar and made their way to the stairs.

  “You lead the way, oh armed one,” The Stranger whispered sardonically, stepping aside and pushing John in front of himself.

  They made their way up the stairs and down a short corridor to a swinging door that led out to the deck. John peered out the door to find a number of pirates milling aimlessly about. “We’ll have to wait,” he muttered.

  Luckily most of the crew were elsewhere on the ship, but as many as five or six members still wandered about the deck, removing the anchors from the pier and prepping the sails for departure.

  Two thin, drunk pirates were stumbling around the jib, struggling with the riggings when someone called to them from the aft of the ship. “Oy! You’s two come ’elp me wiv the main sail!”

  The men staggered toward the voice and out of sight around a wall.

  “Now’s our chance,” John said, eagerly eyeballing the plank down to the pier. “Let’s go!” He tugged at The Stranger’s smock and pushed forward in a silent rush through the door and across the deck.

  The Stranger, however, stopped before they made it to the ramp and gazed at a lone pirate urinating over the opposite side of the ship. He recognized the man’s gaunt frame, robed in tattered garb and a bright blue head scarf. It was Bee-Sting.

  John turned to find The Stranger standing completely still and unguarded in the open on deck. He hurried back to the man’s side and took him by the arm. “We must hurry. Do you want to be captured again?”

  As he spoke, The Stranger slid John’s sword from its scabbard upon his waist.

  “No!” John demanded in a hoarse whisper, seizing The Stranger’s wrist just as the tip of his sword slid out of its sheath. “You are blinded by your retribution. You’ll have us both behind bars or worse.”

  The Stranger shook himself effortlessly from John’s halfhearted grasp and encroached upon Bee-Sting from behind as he was putting his member away.

  “Sir,” John urged, frantically looking toward the small crowd of pirates at the aft, “you must see reason! We can escape!”

  “What did I tell you about calling me sir?” The Stranger asked. He took no pains to lower his voice, and Bee-Sting turned to see who was speaking from behind him.

  He gasped upon making eye-contact with The Stranger, possibly because he was shocked to find the prisoner out of his cell, but more likely because of the murder he saw within those eyes. He fumbled to draw his own sword as The Stranger quickened his pace and fell in upon him, but the fool couldn’t even properly wield his weapon.

  “My life as a sir is over,” The Stranger continued, his voice rising with his pace, “and it is your fault!” he spat as he seized Bee-Sting by the throat and drove his trembling body backwards two steps. “It is your master who took that away from me! It is your master who stole everything from me!”

  The Stranger pushed Bee-Sting’s upper body unceremoniously over the edge of the ship, bending his back until his feet came off the deck. He slid John’s sword into the man’s chest once and reveled as the bumbling bilge rat tensed and croaked in his grasp. He let go of the dying man’s throat and took the hilt of his cutlass in his grasp. As Bee-Sting slid backwards and tumbled limply to the dark shore below, his blade slid from its sheath and remained within The Stranger’s grasp.

  At last The Stranger turned to John, who was standing unarmed and astounded in the middle of the ship’s deck. He tossed the man’s sword back to him, and John barely reacted fast enough to catch it in his shock. He couldn’t believe how astute Eugene’s assessment had been. This Stranger would spurn every attempt to help him so that he may get his revenge. He had jeopardized their one chance at escape just to skewer a mere peon, a lackey who never would have amounted to anything.

  John turned from The Stranger and looked back to the small horde of pirates who had previously been working to get the sails and riggings ready for the sea. Now as many as eight armed men stood in momentary silence as they gazed upon the strange man on their ship. As The Stranger stepped out from the shadows and stood stolidly beside John, the pirates wasted no time in taking to their arms and storming forward in an angry assault.

  2

  “What have you done?” John demanded in a frantic holler as he stumbled backward away from the oncoming barrage.

  “Stand up and fight!” The Stranger yelled over the screaming pirates. “Slay these filthy dregs and let us be done with them!”

  John continued falling back slowly, but he did not turn and run. “You’re going to get me killed,” he muttered as his blade clashed with that of the first pirate.

  The Stranger too locked blades with a long-bearded, gray-haired man that was leading the group. The man was aged and infirm, and The Stranger didn’t hesitate for a moment before seizing the man’s thin wrist with his free hand. He halted the old pirate’s second swing and easily slid Bee-Sting’s blade into the man’s gut, bringing him to his knees with a gurgling groan. The pirate’s dying body he shoved backwards into the three men who were rushing in behind him.

  At this he turned to John Tompkins and shoved his boot into the hip of John’s assailant, sending the much younger pirate into the wall of the side of the ship. John wasted not a moment. He took his newfound advantage over the pirate and fell in upon him with three mortal thrusts of his blade.

  The Stranger turned back to the three oncoming pirates who were stumbling over the bleeding corpse of their elder and clashed his blade heavily into them. Two wielded their own cutlasses against The Stranger’s, and the third man stumbled backwards in unsteady surprise. The Stranger’s ire more than made up for his utter lack of combat training. While most of these pirates had never been trained in combat either, many of them had at least seen battle and taken lives in the past. The Stranger, however, had been confused, injured, incapacitated, and held captive against his will for as long as he could remember. Since he’d arrived unconscious on this accursed island, he’d been filled with a vengeful rage with no viable outlet. Now he had a sword in his hand and a small slew of mangy pirates before him, and he would stop at nothing to spill every last drop of their blood.

  His attacks grew stronger and more determined with every swing. Though the crew had momentum in their onslaught, The Stranger swung his cutlass like a club, and he had the men retreating defensively in mere moments. He gripped the hilt in both hands and swung downward with all his might, smashing his blade against his attackers’ mightily. He advanced slowly as the men retreated. At last one fell at his feet, and The Stranger swung his sword down without a second glance. Still gripped in both hands, the sword swung in a downward arc to The Stranger’s feet until its blade made contact with the pirate’s neck. As it continued its arc back upward, it flung a shower of bright red blood across the deck of the ship.

  A second pirate had reached John, and the two were locked in a more even-handed battle of steel. John’s brains had gotten him this far, not his brawn, and the man had no foolhardy notions of taking on an entire crew of pirates singlehandedly.

  As if on cue, a door to the ship’s lower quarters was kicked open, and a wild-eyed, furious Captain Julian stood in its frame with countless crewmen standing in the stairs behind him.

  “Get the skirt-wearing blaggards!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “Dead or alive, I want them both!”

  His men cheered and raised their swords above their head as Captain Julian led the pack onto his ship’s deck in a flat-out sprint.

  3

  “What now?” John yelled to The Stranger, finally sinking his blade into his second assailant’s side and pushing the body over the side of the ship into the water below. “You want to take them all on?”

  The St
ranger backed up a pace from the two winded pirates he’d been attacking and stared at the oncoming mob. As he watched, more and more men kept coming from below deck. Countless pirates were pouring out of the small doorway, two-by-two. The Stranger said nothing. He tightened his grip on his sword and swallowed hard.

  “Come, you fool!” John yelled, grabbing the man’s smock and spinning him away from the horde.

  The two ran as fast as they could toward the front of the ship and dove overboard. The Stranger landed headfirst in the water below and quickly turned a flip underwater to slow his descent in the shallows so close to shore. He touched bottom and thrust his body back toward the surface. Wiping the salt water from his eyes, he saw John Tompkins swimming frantically for the shore. There was something to be said for the man’s desperate desire to escape.

  Captain Julian reached the fore of the ship and sneered over the side, his whole crew behind him, their momentum threatening to force him overboard himself. At last he turned to face them and screamed incoherently. His rage had nearly driven him to insanity.

  “After ’em, maggots! Get off me ship, ye bleedin’ bunch of fuckin’ weevils!”

  The Stranger and John swam the short distance to the shore and hustled out of the water at the moment the leaders of the horde made it down the plank and onto the pier. The screaming and stomping from the pirate crew was deafening and must have echoed across the entire island, for, at that moment, a rumbling roar from deep within the jungle seemed to shake the earth.

  The Stranger and John Tompkins entered the tree line just as the sun threatened to peek over the red horizon behind them.

  4

  After the pair had been chased across what felt to be twice the length of the island, the sun was properly in the sky and shining down through the treetops. The ground had at last begun to slope upward, and their flight was doubling in intensity.

  “We must stop!” The Stranger called to John, countless footfalls and bellows from the encroaching crew still thundering from behind them. “We can fight them before we get too winded,” he wheezed. “It is our only chance!”

  “No!” John called back at once. “Keep going! I have a plan!”

  The Stranger did not argue. They’d never be able to outrun the entire crew at this point, and the pirates were following too closely to give the pair an opportunity to duck and hide somewhere.

  The two swung their swords to and fro as they made their way up the increasingly steep hillside, hacking and slashing at the vines and thick brush that hung before them. They leapt and skirted their way around large roots and trees in their way. The pirates’ pace was only minutely slower, but their numbers were far greater. One trip, one mere stumble, and either John or The Stranger could be beneath the feet of a horde of angry marauders.

  At last they crested the hill, and The Stranger immediately recognized the rocky peaks before him.

  “We can’t go that way!” he called urgently. “A punisher beast is down there!” The beast’s low growl rose to a crescendo as if to punctuate this point.

  “I know!” John hollered back with a grin.

  5

  John led the way across the mountainous hilltop. Jagged boulders jutted sporadically, and the two leapt over chasms and climbed over outcroppings as quickly as they could manage. Occasional tall trees grew up from cracks in the rocks. With a somewhat less dense canopy, beams of sunlight shone down more frequently.

  The Stranger couldn’t guess how the band of pirates was faring on the new terrain, and a glance back over his shoulder might prove too risky. Heavy footfalls and periodic shouts still arose from directly behind, but the overall clamor had subsided, as though half of the crew had grown too winded and fallen back.

  At last they reached a point where a large fissure in a rock created a gap into which John deftly leapt. The Stranger hesitated as he tracked their course. John had jumped into the large crevice which began leading downhill toward the falls. A small trail roughly twice the length of The Stranger’s boot led alongside the cliff on which they had been running.

  “Where are you going?” The Stranger asked, stopping and considering splitting up from John and staying atop the rocks, where the ground remained solid. “The beast is down there!”

  John turned and waved his arms impatiently. “Come!” he demanded. “I know what I’m doing!”

  The Stranger obeyed, but he shook his head and breathlessly expressed his discontent as he stumbled down into the gap between rocks. “This ledge is too small! We’ll lose footing and fall to our deaths!”

  “Or perhaps they will,” John said, nodding behind The Stranger at the pirate crew above them.

  The crew, still substantial though decidedly thinned out, had reached the large fissure just as The Stranger leapt down onto the tiny ledge below. He glanced back and saw Captain Julian back in the lead.

  “Yer really wastin’ me time, ye mutinous fish bait,” he grumbled. He undoubtedly had the most to lose and the most to gain through this whole endeavor, and his adrenaline would drive him to the end, but still his chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath. His fury seemed to have cooled, if only slightly. “Ye’ve nowhere t’ run. Give it up.”

  The Stranger, his confidence half what it was mere moments ago, hesitated in silence, hoping that John would snap a foreboding retort, but the man only turned and continued his flight. The Stranger sighed and followed suit.

  6

  The pirate crew clambered one-by-one down the fissure and onto the ledge below. They continued their pursuit as rapidly as they could, but the short ledge forced them to hug the wall of the cliff to avoid falling to their deaths.

  The Stranger valued this minute respite, as he was able to slow his pace and catch his breath for a moment. With each step, however, his heartbeat hastened evermore.

  “We are going to slip from this ledge and be impaled on the rocks below!” he said to John. Every step brought greater danger, as the ledge along the cliff wall seemed to shrink in width while the hills below them grew steeper downward and turned to cascading falls with vertical drops. “Tell me you don’t aim to leap into those pools below.”

  John only laughed in response.

  The Stranger shuffled along the ledge as quickly as he could manage while maintaining a vigilant lookout for the massive beast he’d seen the previous day. Should that thing get ahold of them, their troubles would be tenfold.

  “There she is,” John muttered, as if reading The Stranger’s mind. An odd wave rose in the large pool almost directly below them. It grew in speed and height as it raced its way paradoxically toward the waterfall. At last a breathtaking monster rose from the dark waters. Its expansive back was covered in a glossy, reptilian skin. As it ascended from the pool, a thundering, gurgling roar bellowed and echoed through the falls.

  The Stranger heard an audible gasp come from the men in his stead as they beheld the behemoth below. He swallowed hard and struggled to maintain his composure and continue shuffling forward behind John. John, however, appeared utterly unfazed as the punisher’s six long tentacles snaked their way out of the water and began writhing up the cliff walls below them. The appendages moved as if they were independent beings, sliding along the rock facings and sampling the environment around them. The Stranger had no idea where the beast’s face—if it even possessed one—may be, but each tentacle appeared to have a small orifice at the tip. He imagined hundreds of tiny, jagged teeth inside.

  “This is it!” he called. “This is how we die! Exhausted and dangling at perilous heights above that abomination!”

  “Not today, Stranger!” John replied. “We’re almost there!”

  “Almost where?” The Stranger demanded, but John only hastened his pace.

  The Stranger strove to keep up as a tentacle as big around as his torso licked its way onto the ledge at his foot. He leapt over the tentacle and struggled not to look back when he heard a scuffle and the screams of a falling pirate trailing off below him.

  Joh
n finally reached a segment of ledge that was four times the width of the previous one, and he broke out into a full-on run again. The Stranger was forced to duck as another tentacle whizzed by him overhead. He nearly lost his balance and toppled over the edge, but he was close enough to the wider runway that he stumbled to a knee and followed John as quickly as he could.

  As he ran, The Stranger heard resounding crashes behind him, accompanied by the wails of dying pirates. He felt the earth quake beneath him as the beast’s gargantuan tentacles slammed again and again into the cliff walls behind him. Crumbling rock and flailing bodies smashed and splashed into the earth and water below.

  One tentacle abruptly launched itself into the wall directly in front of John, sending him into a dead roll on the trail before The Stranger. Shards of crumbling rock and dirt sprayed forth in a blinding cloud through which The Stranger ran. He ducked beneath the tentacle just as it began withdrawing itself.

  “Come on!” he called, bending and heaving John back upright by the man’s shoulder. The Stranger continued running in front of John. “Where are we going?” he screamed behind him. “This is madness!”

  “Run!” John screamed, a deafening crash emanating from directly behind him. “Go! Go! Go!” he called shrilly. The tentacles began slapping the cliffs in a rapid barrage of death and destruction. The Stranger heard the shrieks and crashes behind him increasing in frequency. The pirates were swearing at their captain and lamenting loudly over their fallen comrades, and The Stranger couldn’t be sure, but he thought that John was laughing.

  Ahead, he saw the trail come to an abrupt stop at the face of a vertical wall. No path seemed to continue along the cliffs. “What is this?” he screamed at John, still running furiously behind him.

  “Keep running!” John cackled. “We’re nearly there!”

  “You better have a good plan,” The Stranger said, his voice trailing off as he slowed and came to a stop at the wall. “There’s nowhere left to run.”