-Get up! Get up!-
He felt dizzy, his body hurt and he was drowning, definitely drowning. And that voice was disturbing his panicked mind, which just wanted to lay here, where their own recoil, sharp turn to the starboard, and swoosh of the sea had thrown him.
-Damn you, get up, and help me!- Voice was pestering him now -Get your damn feet's- It ordered, or try to order. The voice was coming like it had stuck to that persons throat. Which he could easily understand. The choking smoke from fired guns and small burns that other ships hits had started, was suffocating.
But still didn't voice understand that he didn't want to get up? He had just witnessed a man, standing where he had just stood. Looking dazed on the middle of this godforsaken havoc and pressing his both bloody hands to his stomach where his guts tried to burst out to the deck.The image was too horrifying. This all, was too horrifying than what had happened on the pub three months ago. How he had come to be eighty-ninth crew member to 114 feet long, three masted, black and white brig El Corazón. Who's current armament, all 22 cannons..
Hull shook painfully against his back making him shut his eyes as his mind kept grasping the knowledge that was utterly useless. It made him correct half yelling defying the odds -18 cannons! 18 cannons!-
It seemed to help and the sounds around him quieted for a while, but his mind kept going about those blasted cannons. Telling him that they were located ships main and lower deck and were now shooting every time when getting the chance
Blanking hit again upward against his back and a high squeak of metal made him open his eyes just when one of their four swivel guns get loose its fastenings. Swinging hungrily toward their opponent, guns impotent anger toward the enemy scared him as the voice said now
-What she's doing now?!- Voice grumbled as the volley shook the ship and the deck started to dip
The cacophony of men yelling rise to meet the sound of battle yet again. Orders and answers floated in disarray. And screams. Men screaming in agony, whaling louder than the wind in masts. But the pestering voice was now quiet and suddenly, everything was quiet. Dead silence stretched one. Two. Three, agonizing breaths and, then all sound banged back like a snap. Louder than earlier hitting he's eardrums making them pop painfully
-They hit the bridge!-
-Call Brice on deck!! Shit, the captain was just standing there!!-
Running footsteps pounded on deck coming closer and suddenly stopping on his side as others kept running past him. Someone bend down and slapped him on the face.
-Get up Piper and help with the wounded- Rough hands yanked him up. This voice was calm, easily booming over the noise even its owner seemed to be just talking like it had been a nice sunny day in the park.
-Whats..happening- Piper felt like he had eaten dry sand flavored with bitter smoke. It made him cough, but it get stuck back on his throat its purpose deflating away.
-We are getting hammered by that bloody thing- Said the man. His voice was full of annoyance like you would get when you are trying to get rid of mosquitoes. Not harmful enough, but definitely making your life miserable.
-Bosun!- Came a strong voice from behind the smoke -Get ready to turn toward the storm!- It felt like it too was coming a miles away. It was raspy like Piper's throat felt, but still strong.
-Oh, Bugger!!- Bosun swore and disappeared into the smoke like a ghost leaving his voice echo the orders -Ready to turn! Men up in the masts! We are running now!-