"Alright, let's go over the strategy again," Jack said for the fifth time that night.

Rose sighed. A headache was starting to form. She rubbed her fingertips against her forehead and sighed, "Alright."

"Right. Now, if we happen to come upon the latest wreckage that Jones has dilapidated, you will remain hidden, savvy?"

"For the thirtieth time, yes!" she groaned.

He continued, taking no notice of her agitation. "Now, say that Jones…or others…were to attack, completely out of happenstancenonetheless, what do you do?"

"While you and the men fight off Jones and his crew, whether it be by sword or by ship, I retreat to the brig and sit in the corner farthest from the door, because I am fragile doll that can easily be molested," she recited unenthusiastically.

Jack glared at her joke. "Correct," he said, rhythmically pacing his cabin from wall to wall. "Now, what will you be wearing?"

"A corset?" she droned sarcastically, even though she knew the correct answer.

Jack gave her a sidelong glance. "Hilarious. Honestly! Answer the question."

Rose answered in a monotone. "I will be wearing whatever clothes you've managed to scare up in that chest over there, and disguise myself as a man."

Giving her another rueful sidelong glance, he muttered, "Indeed. And could you please be more unhappy about the matter?"

Rose smirked. "I could, if you so wish."

Rolling his eyes, he walked to the window overlooking the vast ocean that they had just surmounted. Rose knew that Jack probably wasn't appreciating her blunt humor at this very stressful moment, so she followed him apologetically. His eyes were distant, as if imagining some unknown horror.

"How's the spot?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

He blinked out of it. "Spotty," was all he responded.

"Let me see." She took his hand and unwrapped the bandage she provided. Nothing had changed since she had wrapped it and placed a poultice upon it—no lightening or darkening, no recession in swelling, no recession at all. "Well, it doesn't retain the qualities of a burn, because the aloe did nothing..." she murmured.

Jack sighed. "I appreciate the help, love, but this is one malady you can't fix."

"You haven't explained this all to me," she said, confronting him once more. "You meet a waterlogged sailor—"

"I would call him more soggy..."

"NEVERTHELESS," she stated firmly, "He warns you of a curse upon you…But here's what I fail to comprehend; You said that Jones can appear anywhere when at sea. Why wouldn't Jones come and mark you himself?"

Jack shrugged. "Dramatic effect, I presume. Keeping it all in the family by sending in Turner I suppose."

Rose's eyes went wide. "Did you say 'Turner?'"

Jack grimaced. "Did I not mention that? Oh…yes, the squatter in my cellar was Bootstrap Bill Turner."

Rose was shocked. "But he's…" She readjusted herself, suddenly uncomfortable. "Well. Jones's crew really is composed of the dead, aren't they?"

"Told you."

Rose rubbed her temples, trying once again to put this all together. "So…Bootstrap, I suppose, warns you that your time is up, the spot appears…and…why are we making haste to land?"

Jack had his head in his hands, "We will all be safe on land."

"By what means?"

"HIS means!"

"Jones? How could he possibly track you down? The Pearl is the fastest ship in the Caribbean..." Her voice trailed off as he looked her sadly. Suddenly her heart dropped as she realized, "The Dutchman is faster, isn't she?"

"Not only that," he explained. "But also heavier with ammunition, larger, higher staffed, taller, and all around slimier." He sighed and looked away. "We've been beat."

"What will land do?" Rose asked. "I mean, if the Dutchman is as grand as you say, they will catch us in no time at all."

"The black spot's not for Jones," Jack said, sneering. "He's got…a large, tentacled beastie. The Kraken, he calls it. It would take it…oh, I say, maybe five minutes to devour the ship whole."

Rose nodded slowly. "Right. Land it is, then." Suddenly, an idea occurred to her. "Wait. Land! We could go to Tia Dalma!"

"No," Jack said simply.

"She's on land, and she will certainly know how to help you! I wouldn't mind returning for a visit, let her know I found you…"

Jack turned to her, "Oh I guarantee you, love, she already knows." He sighed with exasperation, resigning to his chair in defeat. "She's the one who told me of the Pearl in the first place. She knew Jones kept her in his domain…Lord knows she knows all about Jones." Rose was slightly confused at the inflection of his knowing tone when he spoke of Tia's conference with Jones, but he continued before she had any time to ponder it further. "She warned me of the bargain Jones would make in exchange for the Pearl, and all I'll get from going back to her is more of the same and perhaps a stern lecture. Not doing it. Besides," he continued, "That's why I traded Angelica for this blessed compass in the first place!" He triumphantly held up his compass and flicked it open, watching the arrow's movement. "It points to whatever I want most, and what I want most now is…"

His voice trailed off as he watched the arrow's motion. Rose had never known the compass to take more than a few seconds to choose a direction and stick to it, but she watched as Jack's eyes followed the arrow's unceasing loop and gradually narrow in frustration. He slapped the lid shut upon realizing that he was defeated; There was no direction. He didn't know what he wanted.

"Well blast the ruddy thing! I want land, that's what I want!" he declared in fury.

Rose walked closer to him. "You want a way out," she corrected. "You need to tell the crew. Let them help you- I'm not enough! We can't keep this charade afloat much longer."

Jack's eyes were distant. She could tell that her words weren't getting through to him, and this was all but confirmed as she heard him say, "Land. Any land. Land will make this better."

Rose frowned. "Improvisation?" she asked in disappointment.

Jack grinned, "As always, love!"


"LAND HO!"

Rose heard it subconsciously but barely stirred. That night she had dreamt of a group of ships colliding with one another. They stood large and fierce, piled one on top of another into a large pyramid. A fire burned beneath a ship still mostly in tact in the corner. The fire must have hit gunpowder, because in an instant, there was a large explosion and the fire spread to the top of the stack. It even spread over the water towards where she stood on the bank on the opposite shore. Rose couldn't move, even as the flames lapped at her feet, grew over her legs. No, she couldn't even wake up. She was frozen in this time and this space. It would have felt incredibly real were it not for the cool, icy sensation the fire brought as it engulfed her body, like walking into the ocean not yet warmed by the sun.

She fully awoke when she heard Joshamee enter abruptly. "Captain, we found land!" Jack nearly fell out of his chair he was so startled. "Aye! Yes!" Suddenly, he stopped, getting to his feet and inspecting his compass. Not looking up, he asked, "Where exactly are we?" Joshamee replied, "As I recall, sir, your directive was to find land. Any land."

Suddenly Jack was full of energy. "Yes yes! It doesn't matter! Why are you bothering me with petty details? Gibbs, I need the ship beached. We grow near land as close as we can, then proceed to take a longboat to land, pull the ship up by rope. Everyone is to leave this vessel, everyone! Is that understood?"

"Everyone, sir?" Joshamee asked uncertainly.

"Did I not make myself clear?" he asked first to Gibbs and then looked to Rose for an answer. She nodded her head obediently.

"Right then," Jack commanded. "Prepare the ship to lay anchor on land, all hands on deck!"

He swiftly marched out the door and onto the deck, Rose and Gibbs quickly on his heels. She nearly careened into him as the morning air hit them, however, when he stopped abruptly upon seeing the island they were approaching.

"Oh," Jack said with a sneer.

"What is it?" Rose asked. "It's land, isn't it?"

Jack turned in confidence to her and to Gibbs. Voice low, he said, "Any…other land by any chance?"

"Jack…" Rose warned with a pointed glance. The Kraken was a real threat. They didn't have time for games.

Gibbs said in concern, "What is this place? Jack, have you…have you been here before?"

Jack's upper lip twitched. "Do you recall that tale I told about the islanders who made me their chief?"

Gibbs put his head in his hands and groaned. "Isla de Pelegostos. This isn't…"

"It is," Jack replied.

"What is this?" Rose asked, having not heard this tale.

Gibbs, jaw tight, turned to her. "Jack had a run in with this-"

"Lovely group of people, I assure you," Jack interrupted.

Gibbs tried again, "…and they live-"

"Very hospitable, respectable lives," Jack interrupted again. To Rose, he muttered, "Fascinating culture, really. Very religious, very protective of their land, and…very impressed with me. But then again, who isn't?"

Rose groaned. "What did you do to them?"

"Honestly, nothing!" Jack said. "A bit of sweet talking, a few months spent exalted as one of their gods, and now I'm…fairly fluent in their language. I've got friends in high places!"

"Then what's the problem?" Rose asked. "We need friends right now."

"THEY EAT PEOPLE!" Gibbs blurted in a frustrated panic.

"Hey!" Jack protested. "Don't knock it until you've tried it!"

Rose was certainly taken aback. Eating other humans was most definitely not in her moral code, but this island group had their own ways of sustaining their own lives. The trouble was that her and the crew's own ways of life directly conflicted with these islanders.

"A bit 'out of the frying pan and into the fire,' eh?" Rose said through gritted teeth. "We leave one danger and go directly into another?"

"Not a problem, I don't think," Jack waved her off. "I know them, they love me—I calmly tell them not to eat you and we just…genuinely hope that my language skills are up to par."

Gibbs rolled his eyes and resignedly said, "I'll…ready the crew then, I suppose."

Although still very skeptical, Rose followed him in order to aid in what was sure to be a very arduous process.
It took over an hour to pull the ship to shore due to low tide. All of the crew worked at it, including Rose. When the work was done, she had rope burns upon her hands. When she returned on board the vessel again whenever they would once more, she would have to remember to wrap them with herbs. Perhaps she should treat some of the crew as well when they returned…this was all given that Jones didn't find them first.

"Ben!" Rose shouted, spotting him and running through the shallow water toward him as the remaining crew members handled the ropes. He smiled when he saw her. "Feeling any better?" she asked.

"Well," he said. "No rest, but then again, none of us returned to sleep after Jack's interruption."

"Aye," Rose said demurely. She noticed the rest of the crew gathering together on the beach, and together she and Ben moved to join them.

Jack was in the middle of declaring his orders to the group. "We are dealing with indigenous folks with certain…tastes." Rose winced at the pun. "If you see anything, stay alert, for they aren't initially the friendliest of folks. Follow along, and stay close!"

They began to to walk into the lush foliage, Ben and Rose on the outer edge just a few paces away from where Jack was marching at the head of the crew.

"Do you know where we are?" Ben whispered.

"Not quite," she lied. "Somewhere near to Jamaica I know. Perhaps closer to the southern continent, although I can't be certain. I saw that we were headed south."

"It certainly feels southern," he said, referring to the sticky heat. He then looked at her, then handed her his canteen of rainwater. Rose silently accepted it, thinking all the while that perhaps this action was another positive sign. Maybe she was finally getting through to him. Maybe he was changing. In the middle of a deep gulp, she noticed a large mountaintop with steep cliffs that seemed incredibly steep. Rose looked ahead at Jack and the crew clearing a pathway through the deep forest and wondered how far (or high) they intended to go.

Ben interrupted her thoughts. "Do you reckon we're here to find some fresh water?" She had nearly forgotten that the crew had no idea why they were here, why they had been ordered to beach the ship, or why Jack had been acting so odd. Rose was the only one in Jack's confidence, and he wasn't even being completely candid with her. Rose so desperately wished to tell Ben everything, but thought it best to keep Jack's greatest fears quiet. Mutely, she replied, "Most likely."

They continued their trek fairly wordlessly, exchanging a small observation or two. Suddenly, Ben stopped her, placing his arm in front of her body. The group continued to journey on. Rose began to speak, confused, only to be quieted by Ben again. She followed his gaze to the right of the trail. Rose had no idea what he was gazing so intently at. Suddenly, she saw movement. It was a small child, camouflaged with natural paints, crouched in the underbrush, collecting what looked like roots. Ben turned slowly, his eyes meeting Rose's, and they both wordlessly darted toward the group. He led, pushing through the crew toward the front where Jack was. "Captain!" he called. Jack didn't acknowledge him until he was a few yards behind him, and by then, it was too late.

"Captain!" Ben said sharply. Jack turned, brow furrowed. "We found them."

"What?" Jack asked. Gibbs stopped instantly and motioned for the others to do the same.

Ben said between breaths, "We saw a child, Rose and—"

He never finished that sentence. For just then, a fishing spear flew through the air and pierced open his neck. Gagging and in shock, his mouth gasped helplessly for air. He put his hand to the spear, feeling his killer as the men watched in shock. As Rose remembers it now, the moment feels like it stretched on for hours, but in reality it was so fast. There was an incredible silence when the spear first penetrated his skin. Not three seconds later, he fell to the ground, never to breathe, never to hold her again.