Stories From the Crow's Nest (5 of 10)
I sunk back down, surrounded by confusion and chaos. I
looked above me and saw chain-shot, split-shot, 12 pound shot,
all pepper the ghostly white sheets that loomed overhead. It made an eerie thudding, ripping sound, almost like someone punching through a drum skin. Soon after, the boat was jolted by a force I had never felt before. I heard an uproar that sounded like a million men. I looked towards the crew. The boys in the front were locked in some sort of grappling, as the Portuguese broke the lines and flooded the ship. I stood quickly, my musket loaded, rushing towards the donnybrook. I fired a shot point blank into the crowd of enemies. I picked up a loose cutlass. As soon as I grabbed it, I was side-swiped by a sweeping hay-maker that knocked me back a bit. The blow made my blood boil and I lunged at him with the blade piercing his left bicep. He didn’t have much of a reaction. He seemed almost unhurt by it, more in shock. Upon seeing this, I swung the sword at his face. He still had his blade clenched in his left fist, but could not lift his arm to parry the blow and I cleaved a bloody canyon through his face and head. The meat from his flesh hung like the gardens of Babylon off the side of his face. His brain matter slid off my blade.
I turned in time to see one of my brothers getting jumped and clubbed by a band of three.
I ran at one of them screaming, with bits of his bunkmate’s brain stuck to my face. I swung the cutlass at the back of his neck. He didn’t even see me coming. The swing didn’t completely shave his head from his body. People think it’s easier than it really is, but in all truth, the muscles, tendons, and bones are tougher than one might imagine.