Crimson waves danced in Morley’s eye as the metallic crunch of the flintlock’s hammer bounced off the walls of the damp cavern. The captain stood proudly at the base of his prize, yet his face flushed with rage. He clutched a fistful of gold with pride in one hand, the brazen weapon aimed towards the fleeting dinghy with the other. He stood motionless, his mind fighting an internal battle of rage and pride, as he watched the small boat grow shrink on the horizon.
“Don’t waste the shot, cap’n. You’ve only got the one.”
Morley’s finger tightened against the hair-thin trigger as the words slithered into his ears. With the sights held steady on the drifting target, he turned his heated gaze to the raspy source: a scrawny man, thin as bones, sat below him on the cavern floor, nursing a large gash in his chest. “Oh?”
“You’ve only the one,” the man repeated before meeting the captain’s gaze. “There’s six of em on the boat. It’d take a miracle to hit em all.”
“A miracle?”
“Aye,” the boney man grimaced as he returned his attention towards his wound. Growing annoyed by the red liquid leaking from his breast, he ripped off a hunk of his blood-stained shirt and jammed the makeshift rag into the oozing hole. “A real act o’ God, I’d say. And I don’t reckon he listens much ta the likes of us. But I dunno. Maybe you’ll get lucky.”
“Lucky?”
“Aye, cap’n,” the man continued, hoisting himself up from the cavern floor and cracked his long thin neck. “Luck might be on yer side, but ye still have to account for the fact that you might miss entirely.”
“Miss?” Morley’s face grew hotter with each word the man uttered. His finger itched upon the trigger, impatient in its wait for its master’s call.
“Could happen. Would take a mighty impressive shot to hit em, sir. It’s merely a pistol, ya know. Not like ye got a rifle or somethin’. Ye only got that there flint, and they’re a ways off.” The man leaned out the cavern window, shielding his eyes from the beating sun, and mentally calculated the distance of the dinghy. “That’s more than just a couple yards, cap’n. And they’re gettin’ further away with each second.”
“Is that so?”
“Aye,” the man whistled before pushing himself away from the opening. Pleased with the advice he had given, a satisfied smile covered the man’s face. “So, as I said before, don’t miss.”
“Miss?” Morley chuckled, lowering the flintlock from the dinghy and setting the sights on his new target. “I don’t think I will.”
