092. All That I Have

092. All That I Have

Is this fate? Is this destiny? Or is this just another random awkward moment?

Who knows? Maybe this is all a dream.

Jim pushes open the door to the Benbow Inn, stumbling as he tries to carry most of the weight of the old injured airman inside.

"Aaah, good lad. Thanks, lad. Ya fell from the heavens, ya did," the man mutters.

"Actually, it was just the sky, but I'll take that," Jim helps the man into a chair. The inn is empty; business has closed for the night and the walk here was very long and tedious. Jim doesn't carry a pocket watch, but he guesses it must be at least eleven p.m. now.

The old airman groans as he sits down. "Wherever ya came from, laddie, it was in the nick of time. Those cutthroats and hooligans would have been on me in a second."

Cutthroats?

"I'm sorry, what was that?" How hard did this guy hit his head?

"Them pirates! T'ose blasted, wicked, no good t'ieves goin afta' me map. They won't have it, I tell ya! It's me own, Cap'm Flint gave it me 'isself, an' I won't have no thieven' youngstas takin whas rightfully mine!" The old man rages, shaking a fist in the air.

Jim shakes himself out of his shock. This man has to be insane. Captain Flint? A map? Much as he wants to believe it, this can't be true. The guy's practically foaming at the mouth!

"Uh, you want a glass of water?" Jim offers tentatively.

The man doesn't even hear him, but continues talking out loud. To himself or to Jim, one can't be sure. "That dirty, scallywaggin one-legged scumbag. Always was dangerous and he's nuthin but trouble since he saw this! Gotta find someplace safe where he'll never get it. Here, put it somewhere safe! Don't let 'em find it!" he whispers with terror and hands Jim a heavy, leather wrapped bundle.

Jim looks down at it with confusion. "What is this?"

"Haven't ya heard me, laddie? Don't ya hear what me sayin'?" He grabs a hold of Jim's shoulders and gives him a good shaking. "This is me map! Me own! And dat loathsome and vicious one-legged man will stop at nuthin ta get it! Chased me all across the continent, he has, and he'll never stop! He's a'comin', but ain't no way he'll get his grimy hands on it!" He's bellowing now.

"Jim, what is this!" Sarah Hawkins is standing at the kitchen doors, mouth agape and eyes wide. Doctor Doppler, a family friend, rushes over, afraid that the crazed man may hurt Jim.

"Beware the one-legged man! Beware!" The man grips the table hard and his eyes roll back. Before they can even hear the thud of his head on the table, there's a loud trembling that shakes the whole house. Jim runs to the window, peeking out of the closed curtains to find a large airship hovering over the front yard. The shadows of men can be seen descending quickly from ropes, fifteen at least.

"We gotta go!" Jim cries and dashes towards the kitchen doors.

"What?" Sarah is bewildered, but Jim just takes her hand and drags her behind. Doppler is curiously studying the dead airman.

There's a loud crack! and the front door is blasted down.

Doppler is now not too far behind Jim and Sarah.

They run out the back door of the kitchen. "Delilah's just around the corner, she's our best bet!" Doppler whispers.

"Where is it!?" an enraged voice cries from inside. "Find it!"

They run to the carriage in earnest. Delilah is plainly nervous, nickering and pawing at the ground. She's safe in the shadow of the inn, but the airship is quite visibly seen. Doppler quickly untethers her from a pole as Sarah and Jim tumble into the carriage. Soon, they're taking off at a gallop that Jim didn't even know old Delilah was capable of.

Ten minutes and a mile later, they see the Benbow Inn go up in flames.

Jim's mother has her head buried in her hands.

Jim's staring at the thing in his hands.

Could this really be what the old airman said it was?

A map? Given by Captain Flint himself?

After running from home and a band of let's-burn-random-houses pirates, this is all that he has left.

It better be worth it.