Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Eli didn't have a plan; the boy just couldn't imagine a future without Melody. Her sweet psalm crooned in his memory:
"Your footsteps running around in the darkness. They alone I will listen for in the night!"
And so he leapt overboard. He hurled himself through the midnight air, arms flailing and shrill voice squealing like a jackal. The moonlight illumined his thrill and Eli grinned uncontrollably. The black waves of the coastland tide stretched beneath him. He hadn't realized how distant the ship from shore; all breath left his body when he shattered the water's surface.
Splash!
It was a frigid rush; icy torrents slapped Eli's face and deflated his lungs. His ears muffled upon impact and he'd hardly discerned the whiffing gunshots spluttering around him. He sunk deeper into the abyss. His heartbeat jarred between his noggin. Panickily, Eli thrashed against the murky depths. He was eclipsing fast. His lungs constricted and wet darkness gauntlet him in all directions; moon rays shimmered on the distancing surface. His hands cupped and tore towards the moonlit brim.
Eli pierced the surface and inhaled doggedly. The night air felt jagged to his lungs and the raucous, splashing sounds of his pursuers edged him onward. He swam to the bank and fumbled for footing on the muddy slope. The saltwater stung his eyes. He squinted and gripped moist dirt, trudging, pulling himself upward. The boy's lungs spluttered when he collapsed onto the beach.
Eli rolled onto his back and his torso heaved. He was soaked mangy as a dog and just as foul smelling. Sand, seaweed and whatever else clung to his everything; Eli wondered where the romantics were in moments like these. The night breeze swept his goose bumped flesh and the voices of his pursuers beckoned from blanket darkness. Eli rose to his feet. His limbs jittered with bleak chills and blossoming fear. He huddled low to ground and made his way for the tree line. He could hear the ravens squawking in the boughs and glancing backward he recognized the ship for its looming silhouette in the wan moonlight.
His brown eyes searched the shades as he crept. He couldn't see his pursuers; neither could they see him. If the birds didn't betray his location, he would be fine. Their shrill bickers reverberated the length of the coastland and the frigid wind carried the voices of the pirates.
"Haaaalp! HAAALP!"
"Damnit Henry! What is it?"
"I forgur—" the man's words spluttered on choked seawater. "I forgur I kern't swim!"
"Yarr, grog headed bandanna! How did ye forget ye couldn't swim?"
"I was scurred! And soused! Mostly scurred but really soused!"
"Damnit all. You cod faced louse." He raised his voice. "Poison!"
A rather high pitched man crooned back. "Yes ~ ♥"
"Ye pursue the boy!" I'll go make sure another seaman doesn't die tonight."
"I've got ye." Poison replied coolly.
Eli had nearly reached the tree line during the length of their exchange. His feet trekked quietly cross the sand. His latchet shoes were so slogged with water and every strand of his black hair clung to either his forehead or glistening nape. He may have been drenched, but these folk sounded lousy pirates and veritable drunks. Eli needed only to shake one sot, Poison.
Eli still couldn't see him, but he could hear Poison's cautious footfalls emerging from the ocean waters. The pirate's patient movement is what worried Eli. He'd hoped they'd just sprint towards the path while Eli hid in the darkness, but this man was listening for the boy. Eli held bated breath. He was acutely aware the direction Poison was coming from. Eli slinked slowly; his brown eyes focused on the blanketed, eastward darkness that concealed the two from each other.
Then a thought occurred to him.
"Just two striplings this year? We'll have to teach that Orator a lesson."
Rebecca would return to the village and Eli had ensured that. He winced; his thoughts drifted to the Fellow and the "people" who'd taken him. They weren't people like he'd ever seen, but neither were Rebecca's crew. He'd so many questions and all he knew for certain was he must warn the village. No doubt they'd abandon their belongings and flee, but at least he would have--
Will they believe me? No, no time for that. This has to work.
Eli felt relieved to have reached the tree line. He hid behind a sturdy Oak; Eli's eyes and ears searched the darkness for Poison's location. The pirate's footfalls were too gentle in the sand; then Poison's silhouette emerged faintly from the moonlight. Eli nearly mistaken him for a bear. His shambling, gargantuan gait, Eli recognized it now. It was the same as years ago when this "tradition" began.
Eli's eyes flickered to the path home; it was surreptitiously flat. The moonlight cast a wan glimmer on the scene and Eli's shadow crept from the tree he clung to. Poison neared. He wasn't looking in the boy's direction, but Eli would not wait. Eli shot forward and a silvery gleam cut cross his peripheral.
"Gotcha!" Poison shouted victoriously.
Eli fell on his bottom. He eyed the knife gouged into a tree, and then direction he'd heard Poison's voice. He could scarcely discern his features; there's no way Poison could've seen him. Eli's heart thrashed till panic. His fingers tingled and his toes felt wet and numb.
"Awww fuck! I'm not supposed to hurt the little fellow, am I? Well he's not screaming so I must've missed. You there boy? I'm sorry. Now just come here and--"
Nearly in tears, Eli struggled to his feet and sprinted without care for cardinal direction. He fled. Eli didn't know for how long he ran. Fluttering black wings and ravenous caws spurred him onward. His lungs burned in his torso and he tripped, fell and tumbled over.
Eli crawled. Tears simmered at his eyes. His fingers and knees burning now.
"Hey! Stop!" A voice called out. His heartbeat in his ears, Eli could not discern the direction of the voice. He fleeted to a bush.
"Stop. You! ELIJAH STORY!" The voice called his surname.
Eli's eyes widened. He peaked from the shrubbery then raised to full posture.
Dressed in black garbs and a cowl was a crooked old man. Eli recognized his age from his labored movements and trembling cane. Eli grimaced. The codger smelled putrid; he stopped and used the stick to drawn a line between the two.
"Come no closer, boy."
Eli recognized the voice now from the halcyon days of his adolescence. The stranger removed his cowl and moonlight illumined a wizened face with hollowed, sunken blue eyes. Sweat matted his sallow brow and his torso heaved in displeasure.
"Curses boy, you've probably shortened three Springs from my lifetime."
"Pastor?!"
He stumbled forward and Eli ran to catch him.
He admonished Eli with the stick. "Halt boy. Just give me a few moments." he wheezed.
Eli spoke in a flurry. "What are you doing here? The village is in danger! Weren't you ostracized? Amias has been taken by bandits. The Orator. Melody. Melody she is in--"
"Hush boy, I know the gist."
"HOW?!" Eli began crying; he used his fists to wipe his tears. "I'd thought you'd fled! That they might've killed you or worse."
The Pastor shook his head. "There's no point in fleeing, boy. I know that now. Crows everywhere are equally black."
