Dizgaia ~ The Dreamfinder's Daughter

Chapter 35 ~ Escape From Puerto Dorado

"Do I  have to do this?" asked Mia, donning a pair of padded earmuffs.

"It's just the shooting range, Mia. It's not like we're hunting down Bambi's mother."

"I just don't believe in guns is all. I think it's wrong. People should just go back to using swords. It's more sporting."

Edward Baxter replied with that familiar, lighthearted laugh. "And I suppose you'd prefer people solve their differences by slapping one another with a glove and challenging them to a duel?"

"Exactly."

"Look," he said, trying to sound serious despite the obvious laughter still bubbling beneath the surface. "You don't have to carry one. You don't have to believe in them. I just want you to know how to shoot one in case a time comes where you're ever in a situation where you might need to use one."

"I don't think that's likely, Dad."

"Humor me," he said, handing her Smith and Wesson 9 mm handgun. "Just this once."

"Ugh. Fine."

Muffled shots echoed in her covered ears as she emptied the chamber, leaving the target filled with a series of holes.

"Holy crap, honey! Look at you! You're a crackerjack shot!"

"Crackerjack? What are you, 100 years old?"

"Says the girl who talks like she was born in the 1800s. At least I know you can shoot if you ever needed to."

"Again, never going to happen."

"Mia!"

Mia opened her eyes. Hook was gazing down at her with those soft blue forget-me-nots.

"Mia, are you well?"

"I-I didn't want to kill anyone," she said tremulously, tears welling in her eyes.

"You didn't, darling," he assured her, carefully brushing back strands of hair from her face with his hook. "You missed. Well... that is... you got him, but you only clipped him on the shoulder."

"Th-That's what I was a-aiming for."

"Were you?" he asked in surprise. "Well, mission accomplished, Mia. You got him." His hand came to her cheek, gently caressing it. "You saved my life."

The injured pirate, temporarily forgotten, took the opportunity to reach for his discarded pistol. But just as his fingers brushed against it, a wooden crutch descended, cracking him on the skull. The man tumbled to the floor with a shriek, clutching his head.

"I should think ye'd have learned yer lesson, lad," said Silver. "Ye've survived an encounter with the kraken. If ye wish to live ta tell the tale, I suggest ye leave well enough alone. Only a fool squanders 'is good fortune the way ye and yer mates have done."

The pirate staggered to his feet, clutching his wounded shoulder. He appraised Silver, as though deciding whether or not he could take the old pirate. But whatever he saw in the face of the wizened old sea wolf must have convinced him that Silver, despite his age and affliction, was still formidable and not to be trifled with. With one last murderous glare at Hook and Mia, the pirate turned heel and stumbled out the door.

Silver hobbled to where Hook and Mia stood, smiling his crooked smile at them. "A spectacular display, that. While ye've left quite the mess, I was pleased to have had the privilege o' watchin' the two o' ya outwit yer adversaries."

Elsewhere in the pub, a defiant voice rose up. "Aye, but it ain't helped matters!" An old sailor with a graying beard and a milky-white eye rose up from his hiding place at the far end of the bar. "What ya done, Captain... it ain't helped matters!"