To Clear a Name

[Mr. Skiperdoo]

I’ve had this idea for God knows how long, and until very recently, I’ve really had no way to express it. Until now… So before you go diving into this story, be sure to understand who on earth Ivan Hood is. I’m not going to really give away what’s going to happen, but I can assure you if you have absolutely no idea whatsoever, go read my other story right now.

Before we begin however, I must warn you that this may be a little dark, and I’m just warning you right now that you may not like what will happen. But, if you really have some intention on reading this, go ahead.

To Clear a Name

Prologue

Port Royal
17:41(This is a time, not a date)
July 24th

Today was the last day of the month that any naval ships would depart from these docks. This particular ship was carrying a large force of naval soldiers all bound to a destination unknown to everyone but themselves. And, as the ship was preparing to leave the dock, the people below either exchanged goodbyes or prepared themselves for personal boarding.

“You remember what to do?” Henry asked, loading his musket onto the gun crate residing next to the large frigate.

“About what?” Rendon questioned.

“About the evaluation silly.” Henry replied. “Remember you need to pass certain requirements in order to become the best hired gun to ever see day.” He said, patting his best friend on the back. “Are you sure about this? I mean not officially joining the navy?”

Rendon looked humbly towards the ground. “Yes, I’m sure of it.” He said, laying his eyes upon Henry’s musket. “You know I’d never be able to handle standing endlessly in line, waiting for the officer to give orders while we stand in the heat.” He said, smiling as he looked towards his best friend. “Of course, ever since I’ve known you, you’ve always been the tough guy, able to push through almost anything.” He gazed upon the large war frigate that towered above them. “And now,” He said, laying his hands in front of the massive ship. “Now you’re going to actually put that toughness to work.”

Henry looked proudly upon his musket. For a new soldier in the navy it wasn’t just any old musket. Instead it was more of a mark of honor, one that signified that the bearer was part of the greatest navy the world has ever known. “Rendon, I know you’re not really a fit for the navy,” He said, quietly making sure that nobody was calling him onboard. “But I’m sure wherever you go; you’ll always be helping England in some way.” He said, noticing the crate containing his musket being hoisted up onto the ship. “But for the rest of your life you’ll have to live with the realization that I’m doing a little bit more than you.” He said laughing.

“Hey!” Rendon said just before joining in laughter with his childhood friend. “As long as we’re both keeping these waters safe from pirates, fine by me.” He said, unfortunately ending their laughter in a sudden realization that for both of them it wasn’t all fun and games.

Henry quietly lifted his supplies off the ground and walked over towards the ship’s plank which looked like it was made out of old driftwood. “Yeah, pirates.” He said, walking closer to the plank.

“Henry I didn’t mean to…” Rendon said, but was soon cut off.

“It’s ok Rend, I just…” Henry said, looking sadly at the ground. “If I ever see a pirate,” He said, clenching his fist. “No matter who it is, I’ll make sure he pays.” He said, almost letting a tear fall from his eyes. Reluctantly he looked back towards his best friend. The one he’d known ever since they met each other trying to join the navy at age seven. “But, I’m afraid my duty calls me elsewhere.” He said, walking up the plank and taking one last look upon Rendon. “So… I guess this is goodbye?” He asked, not wanting to stretch his time limit with their conversation.

“I guess it is…” Rendon said, trying his best to communicate a goodbye in both facial expressions and words.


“Goodbye Henry.”

“Goodbye Rendon.”

And with that, the plank was knocked off its foundation. The ropes flew off in a violent but soon futile attempt at one stubborn one to hold the sea bound ship in its place. And not a minute later, exchanging final waves was the last that could be done before finally fading off into infinity.

Now Rendon was all alone, and he was alone not knowing where to go. Well, he knew where to go he just had almost no idea how it was going to be done in the first place. He recalled what his next job was as he contemplated his future. In truth, he never really wanted to be in the navy or even the EITC for that matter. He’d always found it much too restricting for anyone, especially for someone like him. But he soon came to the realization that whatever it was, he was going to do it anyways. And that would be protecting travelling merchants. He walked intently over to the large wooden gates of fort Charles. Now it was his turn to begin his “duties” as Henry called it. He finally arrived at the gates only to be met by a couple of guards who didn’t look too friendly.

One of the guards grunted and rolled his eyes at Rendon. “Hello fine citizen,” He said in a completely fake tone. “May you please give us a legitimate reason to let you into this highly exclusive area.” He said, keeping a straight face while his buddy guarding next to him nearly burst into laughter. “Hey stop it Roger,” He said to his red faced friend, only to return his stone gaze back to Rendon. “But seriously, what do you want? We’re holding an important event here and I’m not supposed to let any unauthorized personnel inside.” He said reading a paper from his hand. “So what are you here for?”

Rendon scanned his memory for the name of the officer he was supposed to meet before evaluation. “Commodore… Morrison I believe.” He said, hoping the guards would instantly recognize that name and let him in.”

“Commodore Morrison?” One of the guards repeated, scratching his chin. “I don’t remember any Morrisons,” he said shrugging. “Unless you have any documents certifying his existence, and the simple fact that he asked for you directly, I’m afraid I can’t let you in.”

“What?” Rendon yelled, remembering he didn’t have papers of any kind. “That’s absurd! Commodore Morrison ordered directly for me!” He cried, hoping the guards would have some amount of sympathy, but before they could give a reply, a man in a dark coat walked up to greet them.

“I’m sorry,” The man said. “I would’ve gotten here earlier, but I expected to find you waiting at the shipyard.” He said, grinning as he bowed in front of everyone like a true gentleman. “In case you haven’t noticed, Commodore Morrison’s a bit inept right now and he asked me to come and take you directly to your assignment.” He said, leading his hand out towards Rendon.

Rendon slowly turned aside from the confused guards and started to follow the stranger. “Who are you?” he asked, confused about what just happened.

The man kept walking towards an unknown destination, and with a little bit of waiting, he finally answered. “My name’s Robert Keenan,” He said in a low voice. “I work for a mercenary group known as the Swift Runners.” He said, smiling at those last words. “And apparently we’ve been looking for a new member.”

Rendon, still confused, stared up towards Robert, wondering if he was really taking him to Commodore Morrison. “Hold on,” He said. “Where are we going?”

Robert only gave a smile as he continued down the seemingly endless houses and shops along the streets. “You’ll see…”

~~~~~~~~~~

Finally, the two arrived at their destination. It was a small warehouse located in a conveniently secluded spot along the edge of town. While on their long walk the two talked about each other and what they were going to be doing. Robert told him that he’d be joining the Swift Runners as their newest member, along with going into further detail about them. To Rendon, the Swift Runners seemed to be something he’d thought up in one of his dreams. They seemed perfect for his style.

“In here,” Robert said, opening a large wooden door at the side of the building. Once Rendon was inside, he looked both ways before making sure nobody was near, and then followed him inside. In the warehouse it was dark to say the least, except for some sparse lanterns lighting the small storage area. Boxes, crates, barrels and all sorts of nets covered most of the room, except for a large square in the center. To Rendon’s left was what seemed to be a large bed of empty flour sacks on the floor. To his right was a literal wall of barrels and crates. And directly in front of him was a five foot drop into the center square, with four people inside of it.

“Ah, I see he’s arrived.” The man in the center of the room said. “Excellent job Robert, I hope you were able to find him quickly.”

Robert stumbled in front of the man. “Well, in a way yes… I did retrieve him, isn’t that all that matters?” He said, ready for whatever the response to that may be.

The man looked seriously upon Robert for a second and then came up with a response. “I suppose it is,” he said, turning his attention back to Rendon. “Now then, let me introduce myself. My name is Alan Carter,” he said, walking over towards the side of the room towards the other three people at the edge of the square. “This here is Owen Campbell,” He said pointing to the dark haired, seemingly quiet one. “Over to your right is John Harrison,” This one was bald, much taller, and much more muscular than the rest. “And last but not least, we have Thomas Wilson right here.” He said, showing him a dirty shorter man who looked like he hadn’t bathed in months. “These men may be working with you for the rest of your career.” He said, moving closer to Rendon. “That is, if you accept.”

Rendon thought it over in his head. Judging by what Robert told him, the job didn’t seem to be that bad, at least from what he was told. For him, he felt as if he may never get another chance at something like this ever again. So confidently, he reached his hand out to meet Alan’s, and shook his hand with the intention of never going back.

Alan smiled at him with a look that spelled success. “Good, good.” He said with happiness, only to have that change into a serious one soon after. “We’ve been looking for someone like you for quite a long time.” He said softly. “But I’m afraid we have a strict limit as it is…” He added, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat. “Robert, please walk over to the empty bags of flour over there, will you?” He asked.

Robert was at first puzzled by this request, but he’d heard stranger. “Uh… yes sir.” He said, walking towards the sacks of flour on the other side of the room.

“Now make sure you stay there.” Alan said once Robert was facing directly away from the center of the room. He cleared his throat and leaned next to Rendon, taking a flintlock out of his coat and handing it to him. “Now,” He said, placing the gun in Rendon’s hand. “Kill him.”

Rendon let the gun rest upon his hand. He was completely shocked about what he was just been asked to do? “S-Sir?”

“Do it,” Alan said in a horrifying manner. “Or I’ll kill you, then him.” He said, backing away from Rendon.

Rendon slowly brought the gun up to where Robert was unknowingly standing. If only he knew what was about to happen. His hand shook at the thought that when the trigger was pulled, it would be responsible for taking a life in an instant. With what seemed to be an involuntary act, his finger pulled the seemingly weightless trigger as if it had all been for nothing. His last innocent sight was that of Robert’s lifeless body falling to the floor.

Alan nodded his head as he took the gun away from Rendon’s frozen hand. “Well Rendon,” He said, concealing the weapon. “Welcome to the Swift Runners.”
~~~~~~~~~~

So, Yeah, I feel almost evil writing this. So if any of you felt uncomfortable about that, just let me know. I told you it was going to be dark, aye? This all clocked in at about 2,200 words so I hope you’re all happy.

Comments? PLZ?