The crew were transfixed with fear; it seemed that none of them had moved at all. The box bobbed in the water beside them, appearing completely innocent and ordinary. For a moment, they all turned their eyes to Lacey. Only Emerson kept his eyes locked onto the dapao, which had opened its mouth slowly, revealing what had to be yards and yards of small, pointed teeth, like fish teeth...

It let out a breath.

With a noise like the residual ringing of a loud gong, the air in the cavern seemed to explode, though without heat and no light. The water erupted in waves, knocking everyone back; this seemed to bring most of them out of their trance-like state, and Adderson narrowly rescued Iale as she sank beneath the near-boiling water.

When they recovered from the blast, the water before them was empty; so too was the water behind them, and all around them. It was though it had never been there, though they could still hear its voice inside their heads, ringing and repeating like loud bells.

Lacey pushed herself up, drenched through, holding her pistol above the water. Swearing violently, the woman jumped to her feet.

"..stop-clocking...good gun...never steal another one this good! Ye bastard!" Shoving the possibly ruined pistol into its holster, she reached over and yanked Noe to her feet. Leaving the girl for a moment, the blonde pirate sloshed through the water, over to Emerson, and punched him in the face.

"What the clock!?! What the clock just happened?!?" Not waiting for a response, she turned to the others, pointing her finger.

"Grab that thare box then, if we're gonna die, we're gonna die doin' what we were made to do. Lootin'. Get it out of th' water an' up that cliff me hearties! Double time! I want out of this cave an' off this island. Move lads an' lassies!" The captain walked around the crew slapping people encouragingly on the arms. She stopped by Iale.

"Ye might be gettin' taller since we last danced Iale. I thought fer sure ye were gonna sink as soon as we hit th' water." Lacey bantered, trying to stir their spirits and create some blood flow. Turning to Adder, she winked.

"Gettin' sweet on the woman are ye lad? Careful, she's just th' right height t' cripple ye fer life." Walking over to Noe, she slapped the girl on the rump.

"Come on love, get yer pretty behind out o' th' water, go on!"

Emerson went down like a sack of potatoes hit by a meteor, spinning and falling face-first into the water. For a muscular guy, he didn't take a punch very well. He emerged a second later, drenched and gasping. Lacey had raised a large lump on his cheekbone; he rubbed it gingerly.

Iale spat, pushing Adder off of her at Lacey's insinuation and glaring at him, as though she were annoyed he had had the gall to help her out. He looked unabashed and blank, and turned away.

"Let's be goin' then," she said, trying to sound as though dapao regularly paid her a visit in underground tombs; her false bravado was betrayed by the slightest quaver in her voice. The rest of the crew had not fared quite so well as Iale and Lacey; they were trembling and gasping, and more than one looked traumatized. Slip kept clutching her stomach, looking as though she were about to vomit.

Predictably, Sam grabbed the box and lifted it easily out of the water.

"Hurry yer erses, you lot," he said, kicking Noggin's shin from behind and lurching forward, splashing water as he frantically headed to shore. The rest followed Lacey, comforted by her presence and authority, though not by much.

Vik paced aboard the deck of the Cutlass. "I've gotta do something, we can't just sit here."

He looked over at Angel and set his jaw into a grim smile. "Let's go after em, neither of us is the sit and wait type, what do you say?"

Lacey moved around the crew, herding them out of the water as fast as she could, yarring and cursing as she went.

"Come on ye weak bellied wench, get yer erse out of th' water an' up on that rise before I give ye somethin' to hurl about." The blonde growled beside slip, pushing her on the shoulder. The trauma was obvious in them, but the green eyed pirate knew if they stayed here like this, shock could get the better of them. Inside, she was a babbling, incoherent mess, but right now she needed to ignore it. Right now, they needed a leader. And they needed to get back to the Cutlass.

Ignoring Emerson, the Captain pushed and prodded the crew, splashing through the water to Sam.

"Good lad, that's th' spirit. To th' shore, come on ye scurvy dogs. Last one to th' shore will be swabbin' th' deck all the way back to th' Rose." Moving to Noe, she pushed her along.

"Go on love, ye aint stayin' here anymore. Come on Noe me love, out out out!"

Noe nodded, moving along quickly. She had no idea what else to do, really; she was blessedly lucky for having the captain's affection and protection. Without it Noe was sure she would be dead, drowned at the feet of the beast spirit of water, to become bones and eaten away in the hot waters forever. Another lost soul on the island of the damned.

She felt the need to say something, anything. "Yes Capt'n..." it wasn't enough, not strong enough for the depth of her gratitude, her feelings. Well, you said you wanted for love, now you seem to have it without intention. She smiled at the private declaration; well, soon as they were free she'd decide whether an admission in terror was one she believed. For now, she was still Noe and she had things to do.

"Let us fly then, cap'n!" She pulled at Lacey's hand, willing them to move faster. "Your orders other than speed?"

an hour later


------


Violet waves lapped up against the bleached sand of the shore, frothy and impatient. It was a swishing, sweeping noise, and very calming. Casual passersby would have no indication of the paranormal goings-on inland of the beach where the Cutlass was moored, but there were no casual passers-by on Isla Kura.

Deep within the indigo waters, among the fronds and hair of sea plants, a cooing, resonating call made ripples among the sea anemones and kelp. A trio of eyes flickered in the darkness, and then another.

Stripes moved among the grass.

The crew of the Cutlass emerged, gasping and breathless, from the fog as though stepping through a thick curtain. Collapsing on the bone-white sand, they coughed and wheezed. The fog had been thick and unforgiving, dark as the inside of a man's skull; they were all of them soaked to the bone and shivering.

Iale kept running, her short legs pumping madly to return to her ship. Stumbling, she reached the barnacle-laden rope ladder and began to climb up like a spider.




((sorry for the jump forward. wanted to get us the hell out of here))

Lacey coughed along with her crew, hands resting on knees and lank blond hair hanging in her face. Catching her breath, she tilted her head to watch the redheaded dwarf sprint across the sand and scale the ship ladder. It seemed like a clocking good idea. Nothing felt right, not since they got here, and now, even though they were out of the cave, she still felt a pit of cold unease in her guts. Straightening, she slapped the crewmen around her, grabbing Noe by the hand.

"Come on loves, yer almost thare. The Cutlass, she's been waitin' fer us like a lovesick wifey, waitin' fer her wanderin' husband. Come, come, let us get off this Godsforsaken island. Once we're on the open ocean, I'll break out the rum. Rum mateys, rum!" Thrusting a fist in the air, she walked towards the ship at a brisk pace, pulling the mugrobi along with her.

"Keep bringin' that chest thare Sam, yer doin' good matey. Double servin's fer ye!"