by Jamie Hawke
“Fucking A,” Frank said and prepared to snipe those bitches.
“Keep it short,” Teddy said, coming about to get a good target for him. “Captains first, then shooters. Throw them into a panic. Then we get out of here before reinforcements arrive—the last thing we need is an enemy ship following us back to base.”
Frank did just that, responsible for taking out one of the other sloops by picking off their top men, while Teddy’s other ships wreaked havoc on the remaining enemy.
“Someone’s getting a good fuck tonight,” Ox said, shooting his pistol in the air and letting out a deep ‘Whoop!’
“As long as it’s not from you, I’ll take it,” Frank said, grinning at Esmerelda. She returned the smile, walking over.
As she kissed his cheek and wrapped an arm around him, she said, “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“Just trying to help,” he replied. “After all, we only turned around because of me.”
“Wrong,” Teddy said, gesturing to the men floating in the water. “We turned around because of them. You were just the angel on my shoulder reminding me it was the right decision. The only decision.”
The ship went through the wreckage, sending down boats for the survivors, and Frank stood at the ready. As the boats pulled in survivors, other pirates boarded the enemy ships that hadn’t fully sunk yet to give them a chance to switch sides and end those who gave them trouble.
Frank watched, still trying to process that many of these men had lived because of him. If they were meant to die, had he just totally messed up the future? That type of thinking was too confusing. All he could do was what he felt right. Screw the rest of it.
An unexpected creak sounded and he spun, turning to see three soaked pirates! One had already climbed over the side of the sloop, the other two were just about to.
“Fucking—we’ve got company!” Frank shouted as the large man charged him. Already with his pistol at the ready, Frank aimed and his green light showed a direct line—BAM! Right through the eye, dropping the man instantly.
The next was aboard now, stumbling over his fallen comrade so that Frank was able to get in a slash that tore the man’s shoulder open, but then the third was there too, pistol raised. When he fired, there was a click, and then nothing. Of course, the water had messed up the gunpowder. The pirate cursed and threw the pistol at Ox, who had come running.
Ox swiped aside the pistol with his forearm and got the man with the cut shoulder by the neck. All it took was one heave to send him back overboard. Now the third was all alone but figured Frank was the smallest so the easiest victim. He lunged, saber cutting open a thin line across Frank’s chest that burned, but Frank came right back at him with a good slash across the arm, causing the pirate to drop his sword.
“Back off,” Frank said, sword at the ready. He didn’t want to kill any more than was necessary. Apparently, though, this man thought it was necessary, because he kept coming, drawing a knife from a sheath at his side.
Ox was still in the fight, and took the man’s legs out, throwing him to the deck. Frank saw the blade before he did, coming right for Ox’s jugular. With a swift kick, Frank knocked the knife aside and then pinned the man’s hand to the deck with his sword. It was enough to free up Ox to rain down the pain on this pirate.
The man stopped twitching eventually, and by then Frank was at the bulwark, looking down over the side to see that Esmerelda and the three in her rowboat had just fought off their attacker.
And to his delight, his pocket buzzed and his display said, “Level 4.”
Damn, he still hadn’t had a chance to get to his upgrades.
Not seeing any more sign of trouble, and convinced they were done searching for survivors, Teddy gave the order to pull back and begin sailing to the hideout. Frank made an excuse about hitting the head but found a quiet area in the hold to check out the compass.
Sure enough, just like last time, there was the green dial, and when he activated it he saw that he was now level four, with two more skill points per level gained, so four in total. He had the same options as before, but now had a better idea of how these worked. He could add more to aim as that was an amazing skill to have, and guessed it would improve the range and maybe work for other weapons too. Right now, though, he really wanted to know what his options were so that at higher levels he could target down more.
His first thought went to stamina because fuck yeah—that could come in handy with four women. Except, then he remembered that he wouldn’t likely have the compass on him when in the act. Screw it, he thought, I’ll try anyway. Losing your gusto in a fight wasn’t a good thing, and the same could be said about stamina while trying to escape.
An aspect of himself that had been quite bothersome since his arrival was how much less muscular he was compared to many of the pirates. It wasn’t that he was weak, but that they were working all the time, fighting and sailing, while he’d been doing math and science, typing on computers and lying in bed reading textbooks. Considering this, he assigned a point to strength, hoping it would make him look cooler. When he glanced down, he didn’t notice a difference. At least, not yet. A lot of this probably wouldn’t come into play until his next battle, he figured. Or maybe sparring?
Finally, he picked shield because he wanted to ensure he lived as long as possible, and awareness because it sounded cool. He tried to activate it, but realized he had no clue how. The compass was buzzing and he realized another symbol was glowing—one that looked like circular, squiggly lines toward the bottom middle. When he tried adjusting it or pulling a lever, nothing happened.
Wait a second, he thought. Those lines are very similar to a fingerprint. He put his right index finger there, held it, and then yelped. It had just pinched him. When he pulled his finger back, he saw the lines turn red and then a holo display popped up.
“DNA synced. Match. Awareness activated.”
He frowned, still not getting it, then suddenly felt a tingling awareness and blinked—when he opened his eyes again, there was a very faint red dot in his vision, in the direction of the dying man still on the deck above. Apparently they hadn’t cleared him off yet. This thing was working like something between Spidey-sense and a HUD device, only without the need for an actual faceplate or any of that!
Badass.
The others he’d have to wait for combat to test, but he was starting to love this compass more and more. Another thought hit him though, so he blinked and found that it dismissed the awareness skill. Now he pulled out the blueprint display screen and the map with its Xs.
One point of the battle had been to show the enemy what their side was capable of. The rifle had proven very valuable in this regard. If he could make more like that, sure it would be messing with time in a major way… but as far as he could tell, that had already happened. As far as he knew, this could even be an alternate universe version of time. The only way out of this, in his mind, was to focus on helping the right side when he could. He had to be here for a reason, after all.
If it was all chance that had brought him here, then that was a bigger issue, a scenario he couldn’t live with. He’d always been the type to believe that everyone was living for a greater purpose, but that some simply never got the chance to fulfill it, or actually did, but refused to step up to the call when the time came.
He wouldn’t be missing his chance.
Looking over the blueprints again, he saw that they were mostly simple weapons. Pistols and easy-to-make rifles. But if he focused his leveling up there, maybe there were better options? He cursed himself for using his skill points already and decided he’d use at least one level five point to pursue this option. He had to find out if leveling up the weapon crafting worked on specific weapons or gave him new blueprints. Or maybe it would give him the option?
Right now though, he had what he had.
Looking over the map, he saw the areas he’d been now highlighted, including the ship with various parts. Of course, parts fr
om the weapons stolen from the armory could be used as part of the process to create better weapons. If nothing else, for the muzzles and trigger mechanisms, though he imagined the latter would need some adjustments. He hadn’t studied weapons crafting before but had learned enough that these blueprints made sense.
When he selected a specific weapon from the blueprints, it would become three-dimensional and highlight certain pieces to correspond with the projected map. Fucking awesome.
To make another rifle like the one Teddy had, he only needed two extra parts, both of which could be found on the hideout island, among other places. Loot time, baby.
What was interesting to him though, was why. Why was all this set up, and by whom? Had the Pirate King found a way to try to help someone, figuring they’d be doing it for him? More likely—and really what Frank hoped—some other time traveler had set this up as a test or for him to stumble across somehow. Maybe it was because they couldn’t go up against the Pirate King themselves, or had the time travel tech but not the skills to survive this place? Some tech god, maybe? None of it made sense yet, but Frank was certain he’d get his answers eventually.
For now, he closed the compass, putting all this away, and went to find Teddy. The man was at the wheel, sailing away from the chaos they’d left in their wake. Others were dragging the semi-living man down below, some talking about taking him for questioning. That didn’t sound pleasant, not when matched with the fury in their eyes.
Teddy had his rifle slung over his shoulder, watching the horizon for signs of enemy ships with a deep frown. When he saw Frank approaching, a smile washed away the lines of worry.
“The man of the hour,” Teddy said. “Don’t be shy, not with the way you fought. And this right here?” He patted the rifle. “All thanks to you.”
“I think we can make more rifles, pistols, maybe…” Frank shuffled in place, then grabbed hold of the railing, still not quite comfortable with his sea legs. “Ammunition, I hope… And maybe other types of weapons.”
“What do you need?”
“A search party, mostly.”
Teddy grinned. “Let me guess…” he nodded toward Milly and Esmerelda, working the sails, “you already have your team picked out?”
“I honestly hadn’t considered it,” Frank admitted, but since Teddy mentioned it, that sounded perfect. An excursion into the jungle to find weapon parts, and have a chance to form their bond.
“Do what you must,” Teddy said, shaking his head and turning back to the horizon. “Bring me the weapons, bring me the victory, and no questions asked as far as I’m concerned.”
Frank grinned, turning to go find a place to study his map some more, but Teddy called after him.
“Yes?”
“Take care of my sister,” Teddy said, giving him a wink. “She’s tougher than many men here and will try to act twice as tough as that, but… you break her heart, you’ll answer to me.”
“I would never,” Frank said, and the look in Teddy’s eyes showed he believed it.
Of course, when the moment came for Frank to return to his own time, that was a different story. He still had no idea what would happen then.
Turning to see Esmerelda giving him a curious and flirtatious look from her place at the rigging, he had to wonder if he’d return at all. Not fucking likely, if his dick had anything to say about it, and half of his heart—but the other half of that heart reminded him that his dad was still back there, alone.
Could he really abandon the old man?
Regardless, he couldn’t do anything one way or the other at the moment, so he descended the steps to see if the others needed a hand.
13
With a successful raid like that, there was no choice but for the group to celebrate. The advantage of having a cove hideout was that they could have a fire in the hidden areas between hills at night without worry of passing ships spotting them. The clouds had rolled in on the return journey. Now a light rain misted their faces if they ventured outside of their little celebration, but here the hills blocked most of the downfall.
Frank sat on a log with a mug of cave-brewed ale in his hands, sipping it and leaving the rum for the heavy-hitters in the group. For him, a few drinks of that stuff would be the end of the night. He watched the men and women with their fiddles, others dancing, groping, and all around having a grand time.
Just out of the light from the fire but still visible, a woman rode a man, her ass occasionally showing from under her dress. Sand covered this section of the cove, leading out to the calm water. Tall rocks beyond gave them protection. The image of the man’s hard cock sliding in and out took over Frank’s focus for a moment, the woman’s smooth ass glaring in the darkness it was so pale, and then the dress fell and Frank looked away, only to see a pirate missing a couple teeth at his side grinning.
“Fucking on the shore, isn’t nothing better,” the pirate said, raising his glass for a toast.
Frank still didn’t know, but toasted it anyway—this period’s version of porn, apparently. Public fucking for the pitiful to watch.
Not that he was pitiful. He had several ladies, just… not at the moment. Milly and Mary had gone back to pack up for their adventure of gathering weapons supplies with him the next day, though Mary was skeptical about his plan. According to her, if weapon caches or supplies were lying around, they would’ve found them by now. Esmerelda was drinking with the best of them, at times stopping to dance around the fire, and when she did Frank would watch with fascination, amazed that a woman like that could be into him.
Where Keisha had gotten off to, he had no idea. That is, until she appeared at his side with a bowl of soup and two chicken legs, offering them to him.
“I already ate,” she said.
Frank grinned, shaking his head. “You all are too amazing.”
“All I did was bring you food.”
“And teach me to fight better. Probably saved my life once or twice… should I go on?”
She waved him off. “You’re a guest here. I should make you feel welcome.”
An awkward silence followed, during which he let his mind run wild with what different versions of making him feel ‘welcome’ might look and feel like. She looked away and he figured she knew exactly what he was thinking, so he took a spoonful of the soup and closed his eyes, moaning as the warm broth filled his mouth.
“It’s good?” Keisha asked.
“Perfection.”
He looked at her, watching the fire, saw her eyes flick over to the fucking couple, and noted how they lingered there, hungrily.
“You… miss him?” Frank asked. “Shit, that’s a stupid question. Of course you do. I mean…” Fuck, what did he mean? He had been trying to comfort her, to be there for her, but he always ended up putting his foot in his mouth in these situations.
She glared at the pirate on the other side, who was smiling at her with his toothless grin as he waggled his eyebrows. Frank nodded to a more secluded area, closer to the rocks but still on the sand.
When they had repositioned themselves, they sat cross-legged, facing each other.
“Would I be a witch if I said no?” Keisha asked.
“No to…?” Again, his mind ran to dirty places. He looked at the ale, blaming it but knowing that wasn’t exactly true.
“I used to miss him, every day. I still remember the act of missing him, like a piece of my soul was lost, like someone had literally cut through me and that gaping hole was always there… the memory of that feeling still haunts me, but actually missing him?” She sighed. “I’m a horrible fucking person, aren’t I?”
“You moved on. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Frank’s hand lifted to put it on her leg for comfort but then fell again. He didn’t want to send the wrong message.
Her eyes darted over to it as it fell, and she bit her lip, then scooted over to his side. Taking his hand in hers, she stared at it for a moment. “It’s weird, like I still feel him at my side, sometimes. Every so often I wak
e and expect him to be there but at the same time… all that hurt, pain, it’s gone. I feel guilty that it’s gone, but I’m so damn relieved.”
“Nobody deserves that.”
She nodded, squeezing his hand gently. “And if he were watching over me, he’d want me to move on. I know that.”
Frank gulped, wondering where this was going. The last thing he wanted was to make a move on a grieving woman. Yet, her hands were so warm on his, so full of desire and a craving for affection, if hands could convey all of that.
His eyes flicked back to the fire, where Esmerelda met his gaze over the edge of her cup as she drank, and winked. Why was she so encouraging of this?
A hand was on his leg now, and Frank blinked, looking down to see it was Keisha’s, and then looking up to see her leaning in, eyes full of longing, but so vulnerable.
“Only if you really want to,” he said. “I don’t want you to resent me, to feel insecure or guilty or whatever.”
She processed this, thought about it, and then shoved him back so that his head hit the sand.
“Ouch,” he protested, but then she was half on him, staring into his eyes.
“Lesson one,” she said. “When a woman throws herself at you, never talk about feelings and guilt. Ugh.”
“And lesson two?” he said, now more confused than ever. He thought he was being the gentleman there.
“Lesson two is… to keep being yourself.” She reached up, a finger tracing his lips. “You’re not like the rest, and I like that. You’re right, too…” She sighed, but smiled, then pulled her hand back to wrap her arm around his midsection as she lay, her head on his chest.
He wrapped an arm around her, waiting to see what would happen next. Nothing did, though, and after a moment her gentle breaths showed she had fallen asleep. He laughed at himself, silently, and wrapped his arm around her, hoping it wouldn’t fall asleep as she was half on his bicep.
Sand kicked up as Esmerelda stumbled over, then plopped down next to him. She gave Keisha a confused look, then glared at Frank. “What’d you do?”