Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #18 September 2015 | Page 18

troops. Swords clashed, muskets fired. Barrels of ale
and rum broke and spilled, mixing with fresh blood.

The Admiral raised his cutlass, ready to meet
the crazed Indio female.

Bana fought with all of her heart, her sword
ripping through flesh, bone, and guts as scarlet stained
her dress and face. Her family, El Cráneo Negro, had
sacrificed so much for her, and she would always do
the same for them.
A well-positioned cannon caught La Paloma
at an opportune spot, striking a hole in the ship below
the water. The vessel began to sink as soldiers aboard
yelped and screamed, trying to board El Cráneo Negro
and join their comrades.
Pirates and soldiers faced their doom. Heads
rolled, limbs detached, and tongues danced along the
deck like fish drawn from the vast ocean.
The numbers of military men and pirates dwindled fast. La Paloma disappeared under the depths.
In her peripheral, as Bana raised a musket
from a fallen comrade and shot down a final soldier,
she could see Admiral Antonio and Captain Alejandro
duking it out. Clashing sabres rung with harmonious
music so discordant in their rivalry.
As the Captain drew his sword into the Admiral’s side, the Admiral stabbed the pirate in his
heart. Captain Alejandro’s eyes grew wide, his blood
gurgling almost immediately from his throat before it
spewed from his lips.

Bana had gotten used to the atmosphere of
corpses lying around her. Though she could toss some
of the lighter bodies off board, it was impossible to
remove the nearly fifty or more that remained all by
herself.
There was very little Bana could do to guide
the ship the way she wished. The sails were ruined, the
sheets in tatters. When the wind blew, Bana could feel
the ship drifting in the currents helplessly.
With the knowledge of navigation her former captain had taught her, Bana tried to follow the
stars and figure out the coordinates. At night, when
she looked at the sky, everything seemed dreadfully
wrong. New stars decorated the heavens, old ones
seeming to be gone as foreign constellations were
charted in the skies. Even the water seemed different,
the salty smell that sometimes penetrated through the
fragrances of the dead not representing the Caribbean
waters Bana knew so well. She could only wonder,
hopelessly, what had gone wrong.
Bana moved closer towards an island. Beyond
its flat beach, Bana could see a beautiful mountainous
jungle.

Frantically, Bana looked around for any other
friends or foes, realizing the sounds of fighting and
dying had grown relatively quiet. No one but she, the
Captain, and the Admiral remained.
The Captain fell with a choking cough as crimson leaked from The Admiral’s side. Antonio twisted
his body slowly away from the fallen Captain, his
body growing weaker with each spilling second.
Bana screamed, tears flowing from her eyes.
She stared the Admiral dead in his face as she rushed
towards him, her stained sword drawn.

In a swift swoop, Bana’s sword slashed
through The Admiral’s neck. The Admiral’s head flew
towards the ocean.
*
El Cráneo Negro was her ship now.

Bana wondered what wildlife could exist upon
such foreign land, and whether humans occupied the
space as well. Feral animals were important to look
out for, but Bana held more trepidation towards men.
Man often proved more ferocious and untrustworthy
than animals. There could be Spaniards here, belonging to the Navy or exploring for the crown, looking
for more slaves. Many of those devilish lot wouldn’t
hesitate to rape or murder. Then, there were the more
warlike tribes Bana had heard about, di