Though the torturer had been different, Edward knew the feeling well. It was that feeling which forced him to keep a flask in his pocket at all times.
The longboat docked at Tortuga's harbour, and from the sounds that met the crew's ears, it was the beginning of a night full of drunken revelry and debauchery. For Tortuga, it was a Thursday.
Edward commanded a few of the crew to find the men who had taken leave at the shore and bring them back to the ship. Thankfully, everyone was expecting to leave on short notice and agreed to stay close to the harbour, so he didn't expect there would be any issues finding the men.
The sound of pistols, battle cries, and lamentations, coupled with the occasional cracking of breaking glass, echoed across the dingy stone walkways the crew traversed on their way to the tavern where Calico Jack was waiting for them. The smell of hard liquor, ale, body odour, and piss wafted towards them, mixed with the scent of the ocean and nearby grass and tropical trees. Years of dilapidation and neglect meant that the smells simply compounded on top of one another, and the air was forever tainted by the musk of the pirates and rebels that inhabited the lawless island.
When they were three buildings away from the tavern, the crewmates who had found Calico Jack pointed out the tavern in which he was to be found. With a quick check of readiness, Edward continued towards the tavern.
"Hold, Captain," Herbert said, stopping at the back of the group. "I cannot enter the tavern. I shall wait around back."
Edward's jaw went slack for a moment. "Why?"
"I know I was but a child when I was on his ship, but there is no mistaking my condition. My wheelchair will stand out like a sore thumb, so it would be best if I remain outside not to disrupt the plan you have in mind."
Edward looked deep into Herbert's eyes and saw no sadness in them. He could only see the same determination as before staring back at him.
"Understood," Edward said. "You stay with him," he added, pointing to one of the crewmates. The crewmate nodded, and he and Herbert went around the back of the nearby buildings to where they would take Calico Jack before bringing him back to the ship.
The rest of the crew proceeded to the tavern, and gradually entered in groups. The last group consisted of the two crewmates who had found Calico Jack initially, and Edward and Anne.
The inside of the tavern smelled another level worse than the outside of Tortuga. With little ventilation, the foul odours concentrated in the confined space and permeated the walls and air of the establishment. The twenty or so patrons, now bolstered by the ten from Edward's crew, packed the quarters and made the space uncomfortably hot. It also didn't help that, although expected given the gravity of the situation, Edward felt tense and on edge.
"Where is he?" Anne asked, staying hidden behind Edward's large body until she could get a line of sight.
"In the corner on the left," one of the crewmates answered, being sound of mind enough not to point as he did.
Edward and Anne both tentatively glanced in that direction, only briefly catching a glimpse of Calico Jack and his mates.
Edward almost felt that he could sense the man's presence, as though his reputation weighed on the hot, stuffy air. Even so, he wasn't sure if it was merely nerves, so he asked, "Is that him, Anne?"
Anne's face scrunched pensively. "I cannot tell. There are too many people here."
"At worst, we point a pistol at another pirate. Let's find somewhere to sit."
Edward, Anne, and the two crewmates found a few empty chairs and a table to sit at, and shortly afterwards a husky woman brought them all pints of ale without their asking. She let them all know they would bring them food should they have the coin to pay, though not letting them know what the food was or how much it cost.
Edward took a few coins from his purse and tossed them her way. After a check of their quality, she nodded in approval and left to the back of the establishment.
Edward looked around at the other patrons. Many of them were men, some young and foolish, and some old grizzled seamen, but there were also a few women of the night, as well as a few middle-aged female bruisers who seemed to be sharing stories with the seamen. He noticed that he was growing accustomed to the smell, and it, like the noise surrounding them, faded into the background. But, as the sounds faded, his nerves finally caught up with him, and he suddenly felt ill.
Thoughts he wanted to keep buried crept into him, gnawing and itching. Not now. Please, not now, he begged, but he could already feel his skin go cold, and his hand trembled. His chest felt as though a cannon was sitting on top of it.
Edward swallowed and moved his hand into his breast pocket. The thick air now seemed an ocean of mud on his body. He thought all eyes were on him, and he was moving too slow, too unnaturally, to look normal. He forced against the mud, and it made his hands shake with the effort. The thought that his weakness was showing only made the trembling worse, and it took all his strength to twist off the cap of his flask. He brought the flask full of rum to his lips and took a long and deep drink from it.
The sharp and bitter harshness cut through his other pains like a blade through flesh, and he sighed in relief. The rum gave him no pleasure in its taste, only respite from the weight of the mud
