A Pirate's Life For Me

Betrayal of a Comrade

Pain throbs throughout my entire body as they slowly strap me down onto a flat metal table.

"Let me give you some background information," Dr. Stone begins, already pacing somewhere by my feet. I can't lift my head to look; a leather strap has already been placed across my neck. I can't talk back, either; somehow they've stuck a piece of wood in my mouth. It tastes like shit. "You were shot by General Darius Fairlock on the pier three days ago, the bullet residing in your shoulder. You then passed out. I preformed emergency procedures to stem the bleeding and assess your current condition before chaining you with your arm braced in one position."

I try to spit out a sarcastic remark, but all that comes out is an annoyed grunt. He's acting like he did me a favor.

"You were extremely lucky; the bullet did not sever the subclavian artery or any others, and did not fracture your joint or any of your bones. It landed in your soft tissue and stayed there. Sadly, it did not leave on it's own, but where's the fun in that?"

I can hear his smile. Surprisingly, I'm not drugged. I can focus on whatever I want, I can hear, I can see, I have full motor function, though it is restricted in these leather straps, and I can clearly feel the pain spiralling out from my shoulder muscles having moved after being immobile for...did he say three days? My back pulses as the whip marks from before are pressed heavily into the freezing steel. I swallow.

"I decided to hook you to fluids, to force feed you and hydrate you as I kept you in a sustained coma, until I decided that it would be appropriate for you to awake. You did, surprisingly, nearing the end of your second day in confinement."

So, I've only been chained up for a day and two nights. Yippee?

"However, though I did stem the bleeding and perform temporary fixes to your shoulder, the bullet will still need to be removed from the skin, the puncture still sewn back together, antibiotics and treatment of possible infection still necessary to your continued life. And so, I have come up with a fair trade."

Attempting to shift, I find that I am firmly strapped down, and can barely twitch from side to side. The people who dragged me in, two guards, are standing somewhere beyond my field of vision, and the doctor still sounds like he's pacing down by my feet. I smell disinfectant, blood, lemon scented cleaner. I can still only taste this damn wood.

"Three hours ago, I left the room in a rage, leaving Rosalette to take out her sexual frustration on your skin with her favorite bullwhip. I assume she did not disappoint?"

I take this opportunistic moment to curse at him, calling him a thousand colorful names that don't make it past my makeshift gag.

"I was angry because you claimed that the treasure I seek is no longer where I seek it. I do have the brilliant ability to tell when someone is lying or not, and I could easily see that you were telling the truth in stating that it was no longer on Stimm, and that you also did not know where it was now. And here we come to our agreement."

Agreement. Psh.

"I will perform the necessary surgery to remove the bullet and stitch up your shoulder if you tell me what you know about this treasure."

I try to give him a look, glaring at the small bit of my eyelash I can see, hoping he can read my expression. Yes, I can totally tell him with this goddamn tree in my mouth. Obviously.

"Answers that I appreciate will result in antibiotics."

Those...might be necessary.

"Included with the antibiotics are painkillers."

My heart stops.

"My first question: You did find the treasure on Stimm Island, correct?"

I nod my head, turning it as much as I can from side to side to find anything to look at.

"And you took it from the beach?"

Nod.

"Somehow you put it somewhere that you now don't know where it is?"

I shrug as well as I can, wiggling my shoulders up and down, hemming and hawing my head from side to side to try to show that it's more than a one word answer.

I feel cold metal split the skin around my shoulder and scream through the wood, teeth clenching down until I hear a small crack.

"I will ask again. Yes or no. Did you put it somewhere you now cannot find?"

I thrash my head from side to side, desperate to say what I know and end what I know will be coming.

"You did not lose it."

Another thrash.

"So, you know where it is, and lied to me before."

Before I can respond, the blade presses deeper into the sensitive skin above my armpit and I scream again, arching my back as much as I can to try to avoid the pain and the blood sliding slowly down my arm. I can't go far.

"I already know you were telling the truth, so somehow this answer is not a yes or no. Yes or no?"

I nod vigorously.

A brief pause.

"Were you alone in finding the treasure?"

My entire body shakes with the force of my 'no.'

"You had a partner?"

Yes.

"And you split the treasure?"

Yes.

"Your half, you know where it is?"

I pause, but I feel the metal blade rest on my skin and nod quickly.

"But the other half, you don't?"

Yes.

"I see."

Silence.

Hands move over the skin on my arm.

I guess he's doing something helpful, but I can't think over the agony burning in my shoulder, as the doctor does his stupid surgery. There's no rest, no relief, only the feeling of fire spreading downward from the bullet, into my fingers and toes and through my teeth into the wood. I'm screaming non-stop, voice hardening and scratching out until there are only soft, raw groans, toes and fingers curling as tears leak from my eyes and flood my ears.

Slowly, it fades.

A needle moves into my field of vision.

"This is a drug that I have created, that seems to have a miraculous effect on pain. It also makes the user extremely drowsy and guarantees three hours maximum of peaceful sleep. Would you like me to inject this?"

I nod up and down so fast my head spins, mouth twitching against the wood as I imagine it. I haven't slept since I woke up at first, apparently once he ended my sleep. And without pain...

"I am going to ask you one last question; if you answer correctly, I will inject this into your bloodstream and you will be able to rest."

I swallow, hold my head rigid, stare straight at two tiny dots in the wood ceiling far above me.

"Who did you find this treasure with?"

Fingers slip the wood away, my jaw snapping shut with audible force and vibrating my skull as the muscles contract. I force my mouth to move, but my voice doesn't cooperate, sending a soft little grunt instead of a name.

He sighs.

Fingers clamp down on my shoulder again.

"A—HAZLETON BLYTHE!" I roar, all of the air leaving my body in one fell swoop.

Metal pushes into my arm, and sweet relief floods my system.

Against my will I relax.

"Thank you, Mr. Jewell," the doctor says, sounding far away. The room fades to black. "You've been very helpful.