“So, not one of you remember anything? There are bullet holes all over the deck, blood everyfuckingwhere, and nine bodies we had to throw overboard.”

“Yes Zale, I’m telling you we drank something called tequila. Well, we drank too much of something call tequila. We woke up knowing just as much as you.”

“It feels like I babysit Goddamn children on this ship sometimes. I mean, I expect this shit from the crew, so Utah is understandable, but you two are the captain and first mate for Christ’s sake.”

“I understand your frustrations my friend, but…”

“Like hell you understand! We’ve been discussing this for ten goddamn minutes and the entire fucking time I’ve had to watch your cock swing between your knees. I can’t take anything you say seriously until you put some fucking clothes on son.”

Throughout this entire exchange I’ve been trying to not make a sound as Doc Thomas cleans, stitches, and dresses my wounds. Since he was working on my back through the beginning, I could only watch Zijde go from a confident pirate captain, to a schoolboy being scolded for peeping on the girl’s locker room… while naked apparently. As for the reason for me not making a sound? The more Zijde squirmed and yelped, the rougher Doc got.

I’d hear, “If your gonna get beat up doing childish shit, you can at least act like a man while I fix it.” or, “Oh you think this hurts? Well, keep bitching and I’ll quit being gentle.”

I’ve done great so far, but as I turn around to get my stomach stitched up, I see Bheki lying down in a hammock. Lucky bastard didn’t get cut anywhere... I can’t help but let out a grunt of contempt.

“Don’t you fucking start Utah. I know you’re new to the pirate life, but you show a lot of promise. And through sheer idiocy, you almost lost it all in a drunken brawl. It’s a fucking God granted miracle you survived. I still can’t believe none of you three know anything.”

Doc just keeps getting more and more mad as he talks. Now I am swimming in an opium tonic, but him stitching this 12 inch gash on my stomach with as much care as a blue jean patch is making me dizzy. He’s doing an amazing job stitching me up. He’s sliding the needle through my skin without tugging, and the knots are tight and evenly spaced. But he’s been at it for 10 minutes straight and is almost finished. Which is incredible considering how many huge lacerations I have… but the pain is getting to me. The needle, in and out, closing up sensitive flesh for 10 excruciating minutes. No breaks.... I really do feel like I’m about to pass out.

“Alright, I’m done. I’m gonna give you more opium and a few minutes before I do your nose. Imma have you lie down since you might still pass out, but you need that wound closed.”

Finally let the breath I’d been holding out… how long had I been holding my breath? Was that why I was about to pass out? I take the bitter drops from Doc, and lie down on the table. Mmmhh, damn I haven’t been this high since that last surgery to get that femoral rod removed. That was a rough surgery to. That whole thing was rough… wow, I’m so high right now. The waves are rocking me to sleep…

“Alright Utah, you ready? This is going to be bad…”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Hah, Doc is so funny when he’s trying to be serious. I give him my biggest smile and give him a double thumbs up.

“Hah, well at least the boy is having a good time now. Alright, put this in your mouth and bite down while I strap you down. He takes thick leather straps to my hands, feet, hips, and forehead, getting them uncomfortably tight. Which, I couldn’t give a damn. Nothing could hurt me right no….

“RRRRRGGHHHHHHH”

*POP”

My mind clears at first… Apparently I had broken my nose at some point last night and Doc just realigned it. Then take tweezers and starts pulling something out of the wound. Whatever it was must have gotten lodged between where Tao cut the bone, if the grating sound is any indication. Then he disinfects it… with alcohol. The burning starts at my nose, but I feel it radiate all the way to my chest. The pain is so intense start to hear static… well ‘feel’ static would be more accurate. Hell, I feel like I’m becoming static, red-hot static. The pain is starting to feel like it’s happening to someone else...

“Godammit I would’ve thought he’d passed out by now. Damn son so I’m sorry, I’m going as fast as I can. He’s gonna keel from the pain if I can’t stitch this fast enough.”

Just as I feel the needle touch my skin, the static stops.

Line

I wake up to Doc Thomas roughly slapping me on the cheek, “Wake up son, we went a little heavy on the opium. Ah, there you are, put down the bucket Bheki. He’s awake now.”

I see Bheki at my feet, holding a bucket full of what I guess is saltwater. Jesus that would have been rough in all my cuts…

“Alright son, you need to stay awake for the next few hours. Your breathing slowed way down there for a moment. You did well considering… I was sure you’d pass out once I set your nose.”

I feel a wave of dizzying euphoria hit me. I’m pretty sure I’d have hit the ground if not for being on my back. Hell, I still feel like I fell. As I sit up, Doc puts a hand on my shoulder to steady me. Damn, his hand covers my entire shoulder and then some… how the hell can he stitch like that? I’d be surprised if he could tie shoe laces. I stand up, trying to balance myself with the ship rocking so hard.

“Damn Doc, what’s the weather like outside? The waves must be 10 feet high.”

“Sorry son, it’s a pretty day outside. All that rockin’ back and forth is you.”

I take a moment to get my bearings, mostly, and start walking… which immediately turns into falling. I hit the ground despite Doc’s best efforts, but he quickly gets me to my feet. I look down and see blood coming through my bandage. I instantly feel that pleasure creep up from the back of my skull. My head clears and I can get back to my feet myself. I see a confused look on Doc’s face, but he doesn’t mention anything about my sudden recovery.

I make my way to the deck of the ship to see the mess. The bodies have been thrown overboard, but I didn’t realize just how much blood had been spilt. If you told me a bunch of bulimic vampires had been on board last night, I’d have no reason to doubt you. I walk into the Zijde’s quarters, and I guess this is where the crew started to clean. There are some dark red stains on the floor, but the bullet holes and half-assed patched windows were much more obvious. I walked over to Bheki and Zijde as they organized the silver. They both look up at me, but Zijde is the only one to hold my gaze. Bheki has a pained look on his face, but he continues counting his coins. Although, as soon as Zijde starts to talk, he walks out of the cabin.

I give the Cap’n a questioning look, but he simply waves it away, “You would never guess it, but Bheki is actually quite the sensitive soul. We talked about you after you passed out my friend. I didn’t think much of it, but you really shook Bheki. He talked extensively about the amount of pain you would have been through. He compared it to the lashings his brethren got on his horrifying trip to this new world we have here. Your screams were reminiscent of his people being lashed to death. He left just a few moments after he pulled that last piece of bone out of your nose. I talked to him after, and he told me “I was worried he was gonna die before he passed out. The bone I was pulling out came from the center of his face.” He told me the nerves he damaged would probably leave you without a sense of smell permanently. He just knew those bone fragments would have caused gangrene if left. I still can’t believe you stayed conscious for 10 minutes of that…”

He look towards the wall to gather his thoughts, “Bheki told me he underestimated you. He talked about how it takes true suffering to stay awake through pain like that, but it takes true strength to live through it.”

After a few moments, I fully realized what this means. I’m probably missing the bridge of my nose. I mean, I can’t look at it right now, but there isn’t any mirrors to look at it. God, what do I look like now?

Zijde seems to have picked up on my train of thought, “It’s bad Utah, you don’t have much of a nose. It’s ok though, you are a part of this crew. We’ll never shun you.”

Shit… never shun you? What does that mean? I look at ZIjde, but all I can see is a look of sympathy.

“We have a funeral to get to Utah, let’s go.”