The Pirate's Legacy: New Horizons

Chapter 32: Island Fever

The two bodies twisted and turned on the grassy ground. Each man attempted to prevent the other from pinning him down. Legs and arms swung around, trying to catch the opponent's torso. The two men growled and shouted at each other, their sounds only cut off when one of them managed to land a blow on the other. Had it not been for one of the fighters' ginger hair, both men were hard to tell apart with their scraggly beards, wild hair, and tattered clothes. Their spectators, who appeared not much more different than them, watched silently and moved out of the way whenever the combatants came too near. Craig and Matt broke apart when the latter threw the former off his back. Craig rolled quickly onto his feet. The two men began circling around. Matt's lower lip bled; he favored his left leg as well. The skin around Craig's left eye was already starting to bruise.

"Give it up!" shouted Craig, his voice hoarse. "I know yer hidin' it! We all do!"

Between puffs of breaths, Matt said, "You're mad! Steeped in dragon shit mad, I tell you! I don't got no stash anywhere on this godsforsaken land!"

"Liar! I know ye do! I be always seein' ye wit anuther coconut slice or the bones o' a fish!" With a roar, Craig launched himself onto Matt, whose limp prevented him from evading. The ginger-haired man raised his hands and turned his head away. The air in his lungs rushed out as his back hit the grassy ground at the same time Craig's body flattened his. Swiftly, Craig straddled Matt's hips. Matt reared his right fist back and threw it at Craig, but the latter leaned back to avoid the blow. He caught Matt's wrist as the fist passed by and pinned it down beside the ginger head. Matt's free hand attempted to claw out Craig's hazel eyes, but once again Craig evaded the hand and pinned it as well. "Where," Craig panted, "be yer food, yeah?"

"I got none!" shouted Matt. His face was beet red from struggling underneath Craig, but the latter had a tight grip on Matt's wrists.

Suddenly, two pairs of hands grabbed onto Craig's shoulders and hauled him off Matt. Craig snarled and kicked his legs toward the ginger-haired man, but the latter rolled out of range. Ted Gillespie helped Matt stand. Then they watched with the other men as Michael and Daryl dragged Craig a few feet away.

"I told you, he has nothing!" Daryl shouted above Craig's snarls. "None of us have anything on this cursed place!"

"No, I'm tellin' ye both, he has food!" Craig shouted.

"Oh, for the love of the gods." Michael whipped his head toward the nearest man standing by. "Bartlebee, hold him." Once the first mate switched places with the subordinate, he took a stand between Matt and Craig. "Alright, listen. For the duration of our stay on this islet, you both are going to avoid each other. Be on opposite sides of the islet, if that's what it takes!" Michael paused to take a deep breath. In a calmer voice, he continued, "This is hard on all of us, but I will remind each and every one of you that no one is getting more than their fair share. I will personally drown anyone doing so in the contrary. I want no more fighting. Understood?" When the men signaled their assent, Michael nodded. "Now get these two away from each other." He rubbed the back of his neck as Daryl and Bartlebee hauled Craig to one side of the islet while Gillespie helped Matt toward the other side.

For the last four days, the survivors were surviving barely on catching fish and harvesting what meager number of coconuts they found in the trees. However, they lacked fresh water. Coconut milk was not an adequate replacement for the liquid of life. As a result of sparse resources, fights not unlike the one Craig and Matt demonstrated periodically broke out. The second day had been peaceful enough, but once they realized how few coconuts were available for harvesting, and how little fish they could catch using their swords and hands, worry and irritation through slow starvation bit the survivors like mosquitoes. Michael's authority as first mate (however much water that position still held in the absence of a ship) kept everyone from killing each other for food.