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CHAPTER 7

Jack sat on his bunk, rubbing his temples. This isn't going to end well. Why did I send her? Removing his hat, Jack listened for any sound that let him know that Angelica had not been killed by Death. He traced the brim of the hat that he loved so much. As he stood to leave, his door burst open. "Who is she, Jack?" Angelica questioned.

Despite her apparent anger, he could not resist the smile that forced itself to his lips. "You're alive!" he rejoiced.

"Why wouldn't I be? I can protect myself. I know how to fight. That wench couldn't overpower me."

"That wench is," he took a deep breath, "not a wench." Jack placed the hat back on his head. "And yes, she could overpower you. She could easily have killed you. You're not that good." He looked into her eyes and added quickly, "Compared to her." The captain brushed his arm against hers as he left his quarters. Angelica quickly followed him.

"Who is she, Sparrow?" Angelica grabbed his arm. "And what do you mean I'm 'not that good?' I can easily defeat you." They passed the man that could neither move nor die. She pointed to him. "And who is he? Why isn't he dead?"

"Darling will you please shut it?!" Jack snapped. "Too many questions you are asking of me. I will say not but this: she is not one to be reckoned with." Captain Sparrow reluctantly freed his arm from her grasp. Taking one last glance at her, he went to the wheel. "Mr. Gibbs," he called.

"Aye, captain," Gibbs said.

"We've less than an hour until nightfall. How far to Port Royal?"

"Not long now."

Jack slowly made his way around the ship, inspecting every little detail of one of his most valued possessions. Not long after, he became full of boredom; he trudged to his cabin. The door opened; Jack walked in and removed his hat once again. Closing the door, he rested his head on the frame. He pounded his fist against the wall. Before he got the will move, Jack felt something slip around his waist from behind. He watched as her tiny hands latched the lock. Captain Sparrow spun around in Angelica's arms.

Angelica's hands caressed Jack's chest as she moved her arms to put them around his neck. Inching closer to him, she placed her cheek against Jack's. His arms slipped around her waist. Jack brushed the hair away from her neck, exposing her flesh. He slowly moved his head downward and placed his lips against her skin.

Angelica pulled away. Jack placed his hand on her shoulder. As she walked toward the table, Jack's hand moved down the length of her arm. He grasped her hand for a brief moment before letting go. Angelica grabbed an empty mug and a bottle of rum. Pouring the liquor into the mug, she smiled at Jack. She handed him the bottle and kept the mug for herself. He lifted the bottle into the air. She tapped her drink against his in a toast. She placed the cup to her lips and watched as Jack chugged from his bottle.


Captain Turner's boots clopped on the wood as he walked from the Flying Dutchman to the Lovely Mary, followed by Bootstrap. Will stood, puzzled, then sighed. Beginning his search of the ship, William yelled to his men, "Search the ship! Bring any and all survivors topside." He disappeared to the lower decks. His steps sounded loud compared to the hollow silence that was the forgotten ship. That was exactly what this boat was: abandoned; yet Will persisted his search. He had a feeling that something was not right.

A horrid smell blasted him as he closed in on the cargo hold. His gut wrenched, for he knew what was coming. The captain was now completely engulfed by the stench of rotting flesh. Rounding the corner, his eyes rested upon what his nose had already detected.

He crouched to his knee and placed his hand over his eyes. Rubbing them with his thumb and middle finger, he groaned. "What happened here?" he asked himself.

"Can you find who did this to me?" a voice said from behind.

Swatting the buzzing flies as he stood, he turned. A half-transparent man stood there. Will tilted his head and stared. Slowly he looked between the body and the man that stood before him. "Are there others?"

"Yes, but they've left. I refused to go with her," the thing said.

"Her?"

"The woman that did this to us," bitterness filled his words.

"How did they 'go' with her?" None of this made sense to him.

"I…I'm not sure. I saw their souls just…leave…with her."

Will scratched his head. Was that even possible? "How many?"

"Only three of us were killed."

"Only three?" Will laughed. "Then where are the others?" Something told him this couldn't be happening.

"Taken," was his short answer.

"Taken? Taken where?" But deep down, Will knew it had to be happening. There was no other explanation.

"The Queen Anne's Revenge took them. The captain tried to have them kill each other, but they couldn't – wouldn't – die. He was looking for her. He wanted her to go with him. He was hoping that she was one of them. He wanted to use her."

"You died, but they didn't?" Will persisted.

"Yes."

Will stared at him skeptically. "How did she get aboard?"

"We let her. She just showed up, looking for passage."

"From where?"

"Tortuga."

"Where was she going?"

"She never said."

"If the captain tried to make them kill each other off and they couldn't, that means she wasn't with them. Where was she?"

"She jumped overboard. Then she got onto their ship. I saw her go below. I don't know what became of those men on board, but it couldn't have been good."

Will felt pity for this guy. "Come with me. We have three men with us that couldn't die either. They opted to join my crew. Unfortunately, you can't join; you're already dead. But I can take you to the other side. It'll be quicker."

The man nodded gratefully.

"Are there others on board?" Will was determined to help anyone he could.

"Not anymore."

"Can you describe her for me?"

"She wore all black, nothing else. Black pants. Black boots. A black shirt. A black vest. A black jacket…similar to yours, but more fitting, more feminine. She had long, spiky red hair. She wore a black, velvet hat on her head. Her skin was neither pale nor too dark. She was perfect, a real beauty. That's why we…the crew and I…let her aboard without question. No one asked a thing about her. None of us protested either…now most, if not all of us, are dead because of it."

"What was her name?"

"She went by Ms. Smith."

Will slightly slowed. Nothing is known about her other than being called "Ms. Smith." Why does that story sound familiar? he joked with himself. The other man continued walking toward the ship, oblivious to Captain Turner's thoughts and turmoil. They boarded the Flying Dutchman.


Angelica watched Jack stumble about his cabin. It had not taken quite as long to get him drunk as she had thought. After a little over two bottles, the sober, witty Jack was gone. Now she intended to use his drunkenness to get what she wanted…information. The wily woman finished what was left of her rum. Carefully setting the glass on the table, she smiled at Jack who slowly stumbled toward her. He tripped and caught himself on her. With his mouth near her ear, he said, "There is but one thing that makes itself equal to rum."

She smiled and pressed her lips against his. She pulled away and whispered into his ear, "And what might that be, Captain Sparrow?"

He smiled. She loved his smile, even the gold teeth. She missed him. "You," he answered.

Her entire plan seemed pointless now. She didn't want to know anymore. She just wanted to be with him. But her curiosity was overwhelming. Angelica kissed him again. "Jack," she whispered.

The bottle of rum slipped from his fingers and shattered once it hit the floor. "Whoops," he garbled. He groggily smiled. Now free of the bottle, his arms tightened around her waist, effectively pulling her closer. This time, he pressed his mouth against hers.

Angelica forced him against the wall. Jack pulled back for air. He was less charming when he was drunk. Information was all she wanted now. "Who is she?" Angelica muttered. Instead of replying, the drunken man began kissing the base of her neck.


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Angelica placed a petite hand on the side of his face. She forced him to look her in the eyes. Before she could ask the question again, his lips were against hers. She wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, pulling them closer together. He shifted his head and began to nibble on her ear.

She had to find out before she lost all concentration completely. "Who?" Angelica breathed into his ear.

He finally answered, "Death…humanly." Shifting his head once again, Jack tried to kiss her. Angelica turned her head, forcing him to kiss her cheek instead.

Her normal bravery left her. If Death was now a human…she didn't want to think about what could happen. She released her grip and stepped away from his. Angelica brushed her shirt off, clearing away the wrinkles Jack had caused.

Angelica Teach starting walking toward the door. Light pressure on her shoulder stopped her. Looking back, she saw hurt filling Jack's eyes. She had to leave now, or she would cave. Shrugging his hand away, she left. A thump sounded through the door. Angelica took a step toward the cabin but turned back, resisting the overwhelming urge to check on him. He'll get over it, she thought to herself. He left me. I just paid back the favor. Jack'll forget by morning. He'll be too preoccupied with his hangover.

Angelica forced herself to leave Jack in his cabin…alone. She shook off the thought and continued on.