Okay, I know you want to know how Will is, so let's just shut up and get
goin' with the story.
Chapter 6
Thinking, Planning, and Plotting, Oh My!
Will opened his eyes. His head was killing him. Slowly, very slowly, he stood up, his arms out in the air to keep his balance. Will felt the skin against his temple. It stung. He looked at his fingers, which were blotted with dark, slightly dried blood. It seemed as though the bullet had just grazed him.
"I don't know how you manage to be extremely drunk and still pull off that kind of shot, Jack," Will sighed, "but I'm extremely thankful you can."
He paused a moment to think, looking around at the completely deserted street. Either way he looked at it, things didn't seem to be going very well. But the more time he spent doing nothing, he thought, the further away from Port Royal Jack and Tara were.
"Think, think," Will told himself. He had to find a way to get to Jack and Tara, wherever they were.
And then it came to him.
"Norrington," he said in a dramatic whisper.
Will sprinted as fast as his feet could carry him towards the Commodore's house.
~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~
Tara shivered. Not just because she was cold (though that was definitely part of it), but because she was scared. Terrified to be more precise. She was in a ship full of people that wanted her dead. Including- Tara shuddered- Jack.
How could Jack do this to her? Moreover, how could she have fallen for Jack?
And Will?! Tara felt the tears start to well up in her eyes. Will had been right. He wouldn't always be there to protect her. But Tara had never thought that it would be her fault that he wouldn't be there.
Tara banged her head against the wall of her cell, as the boat was tossed on the ocean. No matter how she thought about it, the fact was that it was her fault that Will was dead. She had killed Will.
No! She thought desperately. Jack killed Will. He had betrayed them both. He was just another horrible pirate that people always talked about. And to think that she had actually fallen for him!
The boat dipped again, and Tara was sprayed with water from the porthole. She had been in her cell for over a day. Judging by the increasing darkness, night was starting to fall.
Tara shivered again, and curled into a ball as the tears started to flow.
"I'm so sorry Will," she whispered.
~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~
Jack slammed down his cards. "Full house, men!" He shouted. "Read 'em and weep."
The other men at the small table groaned, and Jack one handedly scooped the pile of gold into his pocket.
"Sorry guys, but did you honestly expect to be able to beat Captain Jack S- "
"Yeah, yeah," growled one of the men, shuffling the cards and preparing to deal again.
But just then, Jack noticed Robertson walking across the threshold, with a small and hard looking loaf of bread, and a bowl of watery soup. Judging by the fact that they had lots of fresh and much more scrumptious looking food right here on the table, Jack decided that this parcel of food was to be taken to Tara. Jack put down his half-empty bottle of rum.
"Let me take it," he called to Robertson, standing up, his pockets jangling.
Robertson looked at him suspiciously.
"I..I could do with taunting the wench before we take care of her," Jack added quickly. "By the way," he paused for a quick moment to collect himself, scratching his crotch as a distraction. "When do we kill 'er?"
"Well," Robertson said, putting down the food and leaning against a piling to think. "We're about far enough out to sea that there's no chance of any ship seeing us, so I say first thing in the morning. So, take 'er this food so she won't be hungry 'fore she dies."
~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~
Tara froze. Someone was coming down the stairs. She gripped the little bench she was sitting on hard.
It was Jack.
He was holding bread and a bowl of soup. Just like she had when he was in her room.
He was mocking her.
Tara's fear changed almost at once into anger. Anger at Jack. It was all Jack's fault.
"You son of a b-"
"Not now!" Jack whispered loudly. His voice was urgent, and he put down his bundle and looked into Tara's eyes.
"You have to believe that I would never want to kill you. You are an amazing person with a sense of humor and almost too much wit for my rummed up brain to take."
Tara started to interrupt, but Jack cut her off again.
"Will told me that you're a prostitute, and honestly I couldn't care less. That wouldn't change how I feel about you. And your father..Tara, you're not your father. He was nothing like...nothing like you. I can truthfully say that I never thought I'd say this, but I think- no- I know I love you. And if you can't believe me, well, I don't know what I'll do."
Tara looked at him. But then she thought.
"But Will. If all of this is true, then why did you kill Will?"
"Luv, I didn't kill 'im. I pride meself in being a great shot. I just skimmed the skin. He's fine."
Tara looked deep into his eyes. They looked truthful.
"I believe you," she whispered.
"Good," Jack said, smiling. He picked up a bench sitting next to the wall and placed it in an interesting position in the cell bars.
"What are you doing?"
"Leverage, luv," he muttered, mainly to himself. "It's all about leverage."
He pushed down on the bench, causing the bars to break open at the hinges. The noise was relatively loud, but neither thought it would be audible through the howling of the wind or water.
"Milady," Jack said, holding out a hand to help her out of the cell.
She took it, and they carefully proceeded to the moonlit deck.
"Now," he said, looking around, "I don't exactly know how we're going to get out of here, but-"
"But you're not going to live long enough to have to think about that, so, no worries then," said Robertson's voice from behind them.
Man! I'm just leaving cliffy after cliffy. Sorry 'bout that. Thanks everybody for your reviews. There's only a few more chapters left, I believe, so boo hoo. Actually, I've been thinking about writing another movie-sequel-story-thing. Any suggestions on what movie/book/show to do it on?
Please review!
Chapter 6
Thinking, Planning, and Plotting, Oh My!
Will opened his eyes. His head was killing him. Slowly, very slowly, he stood up, his arms out in the air to keep his balance. Will felt the skin against his temple. It stung. He looked at his fingers, which were blotted with dark, slightly dried blood. It seemed as though the bullet had just grazed him.
"I don't know how you manage to be extremely drunk and still pull off that kind of shot, Jack," Will sighed, "but I'm extremely thankful you can."
He paused a moment to think, looking around at the completely deserted street. Either way he looked at it, things didn't seem to be going very well. But the more time he spent doing nothing, he thought, the further away from Port Royal Jack and Tara were.
"Think, think," Will told himself. He had to find a way to get to Jack and Tara, wherever they were.
And then it came to him.
"Norrington," he said in a dramatic whisper.
Will sprinted as fast as his feet could carry him towards the Commodore's house.
~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~
Tara shivered. Not just because she was cold (though that was definitely part of it), but because she was scared. Terrified to be more precise. She was in a ship full of people that wanted her dead. Including- Tara shuddered- Jack.
How could Jack do this to her? Moreover, how could she have fallen for Jack?
And Will?! Tara felt the tears start to well up in her eyes. Will had been right. He wouldn't always be there to protect her. But Tara had never thought that it would be her fault that he wouldn't be there.
Tara banged her head against the wall of her cell, as the boat was tossed on the ocean. No matter how she thought about it, the fact was that it was her fault that Will was dead. She had killed Will.
No! She thought desperately. Jack killed Will. He had betrayed them both. He was just another horrible pirate that people always talked about. And to think that she had actually fallen for him!
The boat dipped again, and Tara was sprayed with water from the porthole. She had been in her cell for over a day. Judging by the increasing darkness, night was starting to fall.
Tara shivered again, and curled into a ball as the tears started to flow.
"I'm so sorry Will," she whispered.
~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~
Jack slammed down his cards. "Full house, men!" He shouted. "Read 'em and weep."
The other men at the small table groaned, and Jack one handedly scooped the pile of gold into his pocket.
"Sorry guys, but did you honestly expect to be able to beat Captain Jack S- "
"Yeah, yeah," growled one of the men, shuffling the cards and preparing to deal again.
But just then, Jack noticed Robertson walking across the threshold, with a small and hard looking loaf of bread, and a bowl of watery soup. Judging by the fact that they had lots of fresh and much more scrumptious looking food right here on the table, Jack decided that this parcel of food was to be taken to Tara. Jack put down his half-empty bottle of rum.
"Let me take it," he called to Robertson, standing up, his pockets jangling.
Robertson looked at him suspiciously.
"I..I could do with taunting the wench before we take care of her," Jack added quickly. "By the way," he paused for a quick moment to collect himself, scratching his crotch as a distraction. "When do we kill 'er?"
"Well," Robertson said, putting down the food and leaning against a piling to think. "We're about far enough out to sea that there's no chance of any ship seeing us, so I say first thing in the morning. So, take 'er this food so she won't be hungry 'fore she dies."
~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~ ~~~
Tara froze. Someone was coming down the stairs. She gripped the little bench she was sitting on hard.
It was Jack.
He was holding bread and a bowl of soup. Just like she had when he was in her room.
He was mocking her.
Tara's fear changed almost at once into anger. Anger at Jack. It was all Jack's fault.
"You son of a b-"
"Not now!" Jack whispered loudly. His voice was urgent, and he put down his bundle and looked into Tara's eyes.
"You have to believe that I would never want to kill you. You are an amazing person with a sense of humor and almost too much wit for my rummed up brain to take."
Tara started to interrupt, but Jack cut her off again.
"Will told me that you're a prostitute, and honestly I couldn't care less. That wouldn't change how I feel about you. And your father..Tara, you're not your father. He was nothing like...nothing like you. I can truthfully say that I never thought I'd say this, but I think- no- I know I love you. And if you can't believe me, well, I don't know what I'll do."
Tara looked at him. But then she thought.
"But Will. If all of this is true, then why did you kill Will?"
"Luv, I didn't kill 'im. I pride meself in being a great shot. I just skimmed the skin. He's fine."
Tara looked deep into his eyes. They looked truthful.
"I believe you," she whispered.
"Good," Jack said, smiling. He picked up a bench sitting next to the wall and placed it in an interesting position in the cell bars.
"What are you doing?"
"Leverage, luv," he muttered, mainly to himself. "It's all about leverage."
He pushed down on the bench, causing the bars to break open at the hinges. The noise was relatively loud, but neither thought it would be audible through the howling of the wind or water.
"Milady," Jack said, holding out a hand to help her out of the cell.
She took it, and they carefully proceeded to the moonlit deck.
"Now," he said, looking around, "I don't exactly know how we're going to get out of here, but-"
"But you're not going to live long enough to have to think about that, so, no worries then," said Robertson's voice from behind them.
Man! I'm just leaving cliffy after cliffy. Sorry 'bout that. Thanks everybody for your reviews. There's only a few more chapters left, I believe, so boo hoo. Actually, I've been thinking about writing another movie-sequel-story-thing. Any suggestions on what movie/book/show to do it on?
Please review!