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Oddly enough, Peter Pan was more than eager to dive overboard and swim through the choppy waters below. He disappeared beneath the sea foam, his shadow moving quickly towards the Jolly Roger.
Meanwhile, Prowler and Grover were angling the ship and winding back the rock catapults in preparation for your surprise attack. Prowler seemed to be making some calculations regarding wind resistance and the overall weight of the rocks.
At the same time, Anastasia and Tiger Lily were drawing back their bowstrings, glancing at a tiny device that Black Cat had placed down on top of the ship's railing. It used some sort of advanced algorithm to mark targets as "friendly" and "enemy", using the respective colors that you'd expect in a video game. Various red outlines were milling about on the ship, giving both women more than enough time to line up their shots.
Then, you just waited for Callisto's signal. A minute later, she shouted down from the crow's nest, reporting her sighting of a small figure clambering up the side of the enemy ship.
Prowler nodded, and signaled for Grover to release the catapults.
All at once, a hail of arrows and rocks flew towards the crew of the Jolly Roger. Various adult-sized silhouettes fell and flew back as the projectiles struck them fiercely. In-between the pauses necessary for Prowler and Grover to reload the catapults, the two archers filled the gap with arrow after arrow. Despite the less than ideal weather conditions, their aim didn’t seem to falter in the slightest. Even Callisto was tossing a knife or two from her perch high atop the crow’s nest.
The only ones who stayed out of the fight were you and Glass. Neither of you were entirely confident in your ability to nail a target that wasn’t a child. While both of you could boast of great feats of accuracy, you had very little experience in situations quite like this one.
And so, you waited until it was time to board the ship.
Seeing a small figure creeping onto the deck was slightly reassuring. It meant that Peter Pan hadn’t drowned, and he hadn’t gotten shot by accident. His child-like stature just might have been the only thing that saved him from such a grim fate.
But right as you relaxed, a hand reached over the railing, and you all watched in stunned surprise as a robed figure pulled himself onto the deck, dripping with water and staggering about like he was half dead. Then, more followed after him. They were shadowy figures, varying in size and shape. You were almost certain that some of them weren’t even remotely human.
You struggled to see their faces, preparing your pistols as you looked from left to right. Suddenly, a flash of lightning illuminated the dark figures, and your breath caught in your throat.
As they lumbered forward, you took an instinctual step back. In their faces, you saw every man you had ever killed. And standing in the lead was none other than Randall Spector, his burning red eyes glaring hatefully at you.
(Cont.)
