Bloodtide

Part 49

Hallow met his glare with a cold, defiant stare of her own. The tension between them was palpable, thickening the air in the small, dimly lit hideout. The rest of the crew exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the powder keg of emotion that could explode at any moment.

The room fell into an uneasy silence, the flickering candlelight casting shadows that seemed to dance along with the tension. I shifted uncomfortably.

Outside, the distant sound of rustling leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl were the only signs of life in the otherwise still night. But then, there was something else—something faint and out of place. The crunch of footsteps on gravel, muffled but growing louder, more deliberate.

John tensed, his instincts kicking in. He had heard that sound before, the unmistakable approach of a group trying to remain unseen. His eyes narrowed, and he gave a slight nod to Bonham, signaling him to be ready.

Before he could warn the others, the door to the hideout burst open with a deafening crash, splintering wood and sending the door flying off its hinges. The king's men, armored and armed, stormed into the room with a precision that only years of training could bring. Their faces were hard, eyes cold and merciless as they took in the scene before them.

"Ambush!" John shouted, drawing his sword and stepping in front of me to protect from the advancing soldiers. The room erupted into chaos, the crew scrambling to defend themselves against the overwhelming force.

Jones, already on edge, snapped. His eyes widened in fury as he turned on Hallow, the woman he had suspected from the start. "You did this!" he bellowed, lunging at her with a murderous intent. His hands closed around her throat, squeezing with a fury that had been building since they first went into hiding. "You led them right to us, you snake!"

Hallow gasped, struggling to pry his hands from her throat, her eyes wide with fear for the first time. The confident, composed facade she usually wore shattered under Jones' crushing grip.

John was in the thick of the fight, his sword clashing against those of the king's men. But when he saw Jones choking Hallow, he began to groan not having time for this.

"Jones, enough!" John shouted over the clamor of battle, but his voice was drowned out by the chaos. He saw Hallow's struggle weakening, her face turning a dangerous shade of red. Without thinking, John fought his way through the fray, shoving aside a soldier who tried to block his path.

My heart pounded in my chest as J fended off an attacker with her dagger. I saw John's movement out of the corner of her eye and knew what he was about to do. "John, help him!" she called out, slashing at a soldier's arm to keep him at bay.

With a powerful swing, John knocked a soldier out of his way and reached Jones. He brought the hilt of his sword down on Jones' arm, forcing him to release Henry. Jones stumbled back, momentarily disoriented, as Henry collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.

But before Jones could respond, another wave of the king's men poured into the room, the situation growing more desperate by the second. The hideout was compromised; they were outnumbered and outmaneuvered.

"We need to move!" John shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. He grabbed my hand, pulling her close as he scanned the room for an escape route. The walls seemed to close in around them, the once-safe hideout now a death trap. "Everyone, fall back! We have to get out of here!"

"What about the vote!" One pirate shouted as the others grabbed their jewels and ran out saving themselves

As the crew fought their way towards the back exit, the king's men pressed in, determined to capture or kill. Jones, still seething with anger, glanced at Hallow, who was barely regaining her breath. But with John's command echoing in his ears and the realization that they were on the brink of losing everything, he forced himself to let go of his rage—for now.

The crew, battered and bleeding, finally reached the narrow tunnel that led out of the hideout. One by one, they slipped into the dark passage, leaving behind the wreckage of what had once been their sanctuary.

John was the last to enter, his hand still gripping mine tightly. As we disappeared into the shadows, he cast one final glance back at the hideout, now overrun with soldiers. There would be no going back—not to this place, not to the life they had known.

"Where is the Black Pearl?" John's voice cut through the chaos, demanding an answer from Jones, who was still visibly upset, his expression hard as stone.

"East side, behind the cliffs," Jones snapped, barely looking up. "But the path is dangerous. We might not make it—"

"We'll make it," John interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "Move."

Without another word, Jones nodded and took off, leading us through the dense trees. The rest of the crew followed in a tight pack, their footsteps echoing through the forest as we raced against time. The tension was palpable, the silence only broken by the distant shouts of the king's men, still hunting us down.

The path was rough, rocks and roots threatening to trip us up with every step, but we pushed forward, adrenaline driving us on. Jones moved with a determined speed, his earlier anger now channeled into pure focus. I could see the cliffs ahead, a jagged wall of stone looming over us like a guardian to the sea beyond.

"Almost there!" Jones called out, glancing back at us. His voice was strained, but the sight of the cliffs seemed to renew our energy. We scrambled over the last stretch of rocky ground, our breath coming in ragged gasps as the trees thinned out, revealing the coastline.

And there it was—the Black Pearl. Her dark sails were furled, but she seemed ready to take flight at a moment's notice. The ship's silhouette was a welcome sight against the pale light of dawn, her sleek lines promising speed and safety.

"Go, go!" John urged, his hand on my back as we broke into a run down the final slope. The crew was right behind us, their footsteps pounding the earth in unison. We reached the beach in moments, the sand giving way under our feet as we dashed toward the waiting ship.

Jones was the first to board, leaping onto the gangplank with practiced ease. The rest of us followed suit, hauling ourselves up onto the deck just as the first shouts from the cliffs signaled the arrival of the king's men.

"Cut the lines!" John shouted to the crew, who sprang into action with a flurry of movement. The ship jolted as the anchor was pulled up, and the sails unfurled with a snap, catching the wind that would carry us away from danger.

As the Black Pearl began to glide through the water, I looked back at the shoreline, where the king's men were just beginning to pour out from the trees, too late to stop us. A surge of relief flooded through me, but I knew this was only the beginning. The Black Pearl was our escape, but it was also our next step into the unknown.

"Hold fast!" John called out, his voice steady as he took the helm, steering us away from the shore and into the open sea. "We're not out of the woods yet."

But as the wind filled the sails and the ship gained speed, I allowed myself a brief moment of hope.