William scrambled backwards away from the body of his dead father, watching the blood pooling around him on the tiles. Charles hunched over Edward, and the pain streaked across his face turned almost instantly into vehement hate. The shots had slowed, and William saw bodies of the militiamen scattered on the floor. Charles looked back up at him.

‘Go!’ he shouted; his voice urgent.

William turned his back on the scene and scrambled out of the window into the fresh air, unpolluted by gun smoke or the thick smell of cordite. The gold dog tag cut into his hand as he clutched it with all his life and started to run, straight towards the jetty and across the open lawn.

A bullet whizzed past his head and thwacked into the pot plant in front of him, smashing it into pieces. William turned a sharp right and ran towards the forest line, swerving behind trees and topiary hedges. Bullets continued to ring past but luckily none hit their target.

Eventually, he was hidden by the tree line and slid down behind a tree to catch his breath.

Carefully, he looked around to make sure no one was following him. His chest heaved as he stood up and began running again.

He had to make it to the beach and the jetty; as he ran through the jungle he tripped and fell over tangled roots, ripping his hands on thorns and scratching his face with branches. He could taste the iron in his mouth, and the inside of his cheek was split where he bit it when he fell and dropped the tag. Slowly, he backtracked to look for it and saw the tag glinting back at him in a tiny scrap of sunlight.

He picked it up and stuffed it deep into his pocket. As he stood up and tried to orientate himself, he realised he’d gone further into the jungle and felt the panic rise.

The gunshots still echoed from the house and he had to get to the jetty. He looked up through the trees at the sunlight which blinked down at him through the leaves and branches. He slumped to the ground and started blinking and readjusting his eyes to the darkness of the forest. Another gunshot rang out. He could hear that it came from behind, which meant the house was behind him, and if he used the sound of the shots, he could redirect himself.

Slowing his breathing, William listened again as another shot rang out from behind.

He had to move back towards the edge of the forest to see how far the beach was. As he stumbled slowly, he saw the forest thin out. Realising he was about ten metres away, he crouched down to crawl towards the forest edge.

Looking back up at the house, he could still hear the gunshots and see men running through the house. Looking down at the jetty, he saw the boat rocking gently in the water. To get there, he would have to come into full view.

Thankfully, none of the militia had come down this far yet, so he decided to run further down towards the beach before cutting across. Making sure he didn’t run too far back into the jungle again, he stopped often to listen for the noises from the house until the forest eventually joined the beach.

Slowly, William crawled out of the forest and then ran with every bit of power he could muster towards the jetty. Every muscle in his body was engaged and the blood pushed hard into his ears, muffling the sounds of men shouting.

William scrambled up to the jetty and ran to the boat. No one else was there, and he quickly untied the rope that held the boat fast, before climbing into the front and turning the engine on. The key was there, ready-to-go, and the motors roared and chunked out water behind them. Rotating the arm, William put the boat into reverse before looking up towards the house, watching as men were running towards him. He couldn’t make out if they were Charles’s security or the militia, and only once he was far enough away from the pier, he flipped into forward throttle and looked over his shoulder at his father’s paradise, one last time. Damon stood on the jetty, surrounded by men in black clothing. He was holding a gun and did not look nervous at all. William pushed the handle of the boat down and flew out into the ocean.

Only once there was enough distance between himself and Libertalia, or what was left of it, William slowed the engine down and tried to figure out where he was. There was a complicated screen on the boat, that seemed to show him where he was. According to the map on the screen, there was another smaller island not too far away. He decided to try and get there and contact someone once he was on solid ground. As he began to move the boat in the direction of the island, he heard another boat engine approaching. How could they have found another boat to chase after him? It just didn’t make sense. This other boat was much larger and coming from the north. He could try to run but knew he wouldn’t make it. After all this, he thought, he was going to get stuck in a Malagasy prison. Resigned to his fate, he felt the larger boat’s wake lift his boat and drop him. Looking up, he saw a man on the edge of the boat.