Finches

Chapter 29 - Crossroads

As he took the pirate's strike, Colt had gotten ready for a counterattack. He had already stepped into the angle that he wanted so all he needed to do was wait for the pirate to attack first before plunging his cutlass into the man's chest. They had traded blows: a cut on the arm for a strike through the chest. It had been a risk, but Colt thought it'd turned out rather well.

The pirate staggered backwards, clutching his new wound. Colt didn't even bother to see what happened to him. He turned on his heels and looked for Jagger, spotting him a little ways away and still shooting at the advancing pirates. Colt ignored the pirates coming at him and crossed over to where Jagger was fighting, having to dodge some bullets and sword swings on the way. He caught up to his new ally and stabbed the leg of one of the attacking pirates, causing him to fall to the floor. Jagger was then finally able to hit one of the other ones with a bullet from his flintlock, rendering them safe from immediate danger.

"They just keep coming," Colt muttered, eyeing the incoming pirates. There were at least six of them locked on to them, with a couple more in the distance that were beginning to look interested.

"Yeah," Jagger replied. "It won't be long before we get overwhelmed. Or simply overpowered."

That was a happy thought, Colt said to himself, but it was true. They really couldn't keep this up.

"Maybe we should separate for a while," he suggested. "It'll draw less attention if they don't see us working together."

It was a long shot, but it would help even if they appeared just a little less like a threat to the pirates.

Jagger nodded. "There's an idea. It'll either work perfectly or get us killed, and I'm not sure which yet."

"Me neither," Colt said. "Want to try it?"

Jagger just shook his head lightly. "Why not?" he said. "I've come too far to chicken out now."

Colt grinned. "That's the spirit."

"I don't know how much ammunition this pistol has left in it, though," Jagger said, examining his firearm inquisitively.

"Something tells me you might just find out. If it runs out, pick up another one. They're practically littered across the ground out here."

It was true. There were bodies and weapons lying around pretty much everywhere. Gunshots still rang out, swords still clashed, and cannon balls still slammed into the island, so Colt figured there were going to be a lot more before long. The Authority was truly fighting their hearts out. They either really loved Goldtown or really hated pirates. Or maybe it was the combination that was making them so effective. Either way, this was still one of the longest times Colt had ever witnessed an island hold out against the Bloody Manta. Usually Captain Rave chose easy prey and it was a quick ordeal. This time he'd chosen an island with an Authority base, one that could fight back. It made Colt wonder if the spoils were going to be worth the cost for the pirates in the end, if they won.

Colt looked around the battlefield that had once been a normal island, with no bodies or craters in sight. How much it had changed in such a short time. As he searched for a new target, he gripped his cutlass in his right hand while trying to ignore the pain in his left arm.

"I'm fine," he muttered to himself. "I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine."

In reality, it was more than just his arm that hurt. His whole body was aching. All of the fighting had been rapidly wearing him down. He'd already used up all of his energy, and the fight was still long from over. In fact, it looked worse off than it started. But he had to push it away, all of it. There was no time to stop and rest now. No pirate would stop and wait for him to recover for a couple seconds in the middle of a duel. So all he was left with was a couple breaths when he got the chance, like now. It was nowhere near enough, but it was all he was going to get, and it was something.

Colt tried to shift his focus away from his pain by focusing on the positive side of things. At least he was out here, for one. He might be hurting and miserable, having to fend for his life every several seconds on a battlefield filled with more experienced fighters. But at least he was here. At least he wasn't back on the Bloody Manta, rotting away in the brig or even wasting his life serving as a cabin mate.

For better or for worse, he'd changed his future. He'd changed his future that day on the ship, when he'd carried out a mutiny and failed horribly. He didn't know yet if it had changed for better or for worse, but one thing was for certain: being out here on the battlefield fighting sure beat watching the fight from atop the ship's mast, stealing some precious time before he'd be forced to get back to work. He wasn't doing much out here, but at least he was doing something. And maybe that could be enough, at least for now.

But Colt knew that last statement was a lie as soon as he turned his head and saw a certain pirate in the distance. As soon as he finally laid eyes on his former captain, Red-Head Rave, he knew that what he was doing wasn't enough. He was staring at the man who'd caused him so much pain and had wasted so much of his time. The man who had embarrassed and abandoned him at his lowest moment. Pitching in and helping out on the battlefield would never be enough as long as he shared the battlefield with Captain Rave.

Rave himself did not know he shared the battlefield with Colt. He was presently strolling between the craters and bodies as though they were simply the walls of an easily-solvable maze. He didn't use the standard amount of caution that usually was practiced by those who usually travelled across a field of battle. He didn't worry about the trajectory of the incoming cannonballs, because the pirates operating the cannons were worrying about his trajectory. He didn't strafe to avoid areas highly concentrated with officers, because he seemed to enjoy seamlessly cutting through them like a pair of scissors approaching paper. He walked with a destination in mind and never looked around much, which was probably why he didn't notice Colt staring at him unwaveringly and watching his every move.

Colt stood unmoving as he considered his options. He was seeing red, and perhaps he wasn't thinking straight because of it. But what even were the options, really? He could head to the right, where there were a couple of pirates that he could occupy himself with. Maybe he'd beat them and find some more, or maybe his luck would run out and it would be his last fight.

Or he could go left, where Captain Rave was currently heading. The man was taking his time and Colt was sure he could catch him before he got even close to the Authority's defensive line. Even if he could just distract the captain for a while, wouldn't it be a whole lot more productive than just fighting another one of the endless number of nameless pirates? And besides, Shelly and Jagger were taking care of the other pirates, which meant that he might be able to find a good opening to get to the captain without any other stray pirates getting involved.

And what if, by chance, he was able to do more than just distract the captain? He'd been humiliated by the Rave before, but this time would be different. Colt had a lot more experience now. He'd been trained in the basic maneuvers of sword-fighting, and he'd been in quite a few battles. Some of the battles had been against Rave's very own pirates, and he'd managed to win all of them. They'd been close ones, sure, but he'd overcome every challenge that had been thrown his way. So why should this be any different? They were on neutral ground now, and Colt was sure he'd been in more fights in the past several days than Rave had for a long, long time. When he considered all that, Colt figured he had a fighting chance. And what did he really have to lose, at the end of the day?

He went left. He ignored the pirates to the right and crossed the battlefield, getting closer with every step to the man who was the root of this whole problem.