A loud shout sent Merrick bolting from his sleep. He sprang from his spot on the foredeck, reached for his pistol, and tried to focus his bleary eyes. Two pirates below him clashed swords in a mock battle, chortling and cursing as they swung blades glistening in the morning sun. Releasing a breath, Merrick relaxed his stance and felt an ache spike down his back. He reached behind and rubbed it, stretching the stiffness from his tired body. Sleeping on the hard wood had taken its toll on him. Above him, pirates clambered back and forth, balancing on lines, repairing the foresail rigging and hoisting a new mainsail.
Rubbing his eyes, he started down the foredeck ladder and nearly toppled over Sloane, who was on his way up with a cup of tea.
The old pirate handed him the steaming mug. "'Tis a fine mornin', Cap'n, an' a brand new day."