Chapter 6

Why had Ruyifor made an appearance just to leave again? Not even to Jack Sparrow did that make sense. Just taunting them over the antidote with the reason Annamaria had been so sick wasn't a reason. There had to be some kind of ulterior motive, the man couldn't be that senseless could he? Jack knew that he would be back, it was too much to ask for him to stay away for the rest of the day.

"What does it feel like… to die?" Annamaria asked suddenly from where she had sunk down on the wall, her eyes were brighter than usual and perspiration dotted her forehead.

"I never really died in the first place." Jack leaned against the bars trying to get

comfortable, he had been through this conversation more times then he wanted to

remember. Eventually, every man onboard the Pearl had asked him that when they

realized what had happened with Barbossa. "I was undead, that's not quite the same as

being really and truly dead."

"Jack." his name came out sounding like a plea. It made Jack curse Ruyifor and ache for the sight of his blood covering the blade of a sword.

"Look at me, really look at me, Annamaria." He knelt down and met her eyes squarely.

"Do not let your mind wander in that direction. I promised you yesterday that you weren't

going to die in this hellhole. Trust me, love. I won't let anything happen to you."

"How can you promise me that?" she asked quietly, she had always trusted him unquestioningly and except for that one minor incident with her boat she knew that her trust was in the right place.

Life and death was a different matter though, it was something no one had control over. Just the thought made her blood run cold. No one could fight death or even really foresee it. When her time came. there would be no stopping it.

"Comes to mind that I'm either going to hell or someplace worse. I've done enough in my

lifetime to warrant a permanent place next to Lucifer himself. I've survived too many

times for me to be thinkin' it's all been pure luck." Jack's eyes were dark with the knowledge, "No, he's branded me and there'll be no pearly gates awaitin' me when my time's come. That's how I know I can promise you that, because if something were to happen to you here not even the fires of hell will stop me." His eyes were so dark they were almost black, there was a look of such determination on his face that she actually believed him.

All Jack could think of were all the times he had escaped from potential death and

wondered how much of his words held truth.

---

"Barbossa you bloody coward."

"Not another word, young Jack, the Pearl is mine as the treasure will be."

"I'll see you rot in hell." Jack snarled, fury and rage burning deep in his stomach.

Barbossa wasn't done yet though,

"You always were a bloody fool. Never give up the bearings when it's the only thing we

need." He smirked, "I always was the better Captain."

"Barbossa!" a man close to the age of Jack but complete opposite in looks stepped up to

the front. "We can't maroon him, it's not right. He didn't do anything!"

"You're new to the ship, Bootstrap so I'll be forgettin the transgression, however speak

out again and I'll make sure you don't speak another word."

"Aye, don't be doing anything stupid, lad." Jack was glad he had befriended the boy and

showed him the ropes. At least something he'd done turned out right in the end. If he kept talking he'd get them both killed. Bootstrap fell silent but from the way he clutched the pistol Jack knew he was itching to use it. The odds were seventy to two though, not a chance in hell were they to make it out alive.

"That's the wisest decision you've made the entire time." Barbossa looked down at the

younger man disdainfully, "look to the horizon, Captain and you'll see your new home.

You can be it's governor as you've always wanted to be."

"Actually-" but Jack was interrupted,

"We're all civilized men, are we not?" he smiled and the monkey on his shoulder clapped

it's hands mockingly. Jack had always hated that monkey. Mangy, filthy, cursed animal.

"Here be a pistol, one shot. Take good care of it, it'll be your only friend."

"Make him walk the plank!" one of the men shouted.

"Nay! Fire him from a cannon! Aim for the trees!" that brought ribald laughter from the

other men.

"I rather like the first idea, myself." Barbossa decided already taking over Captain-hood.

"Walk the plank, Jack."

"I'd really rather not." Jack protested trying one last time to wake himself from this

nightmare.

"The plank or the cannon, it's your choice." Barbossa crossed his arms. Either choice

would no doubt bring amusement to his day. He was supposed to have been Captain from

the first, then some arrogant upstart had usurped his position. Now he finally was going to command the Pearl as he always should have.

"Well, with those choices." Jack stared at the small island in the distance. He had once

dreamed of retiring to such an island, white sand, endless horizon, clear water all the way.

That dream was shot to hell. A pistol with one shot and palm trees was what he got this

time. He climbed aboard the rickety wooden board the pirates had attached to the ship.

Barbossa threw the pistol overhand off the ship, Jack was forced to dive to get it before

too much water got into the barrel. If that happened the pistol would be useless. As he

surfaced with the precious possession Jack heard Barbossa yell,

"Fire, men!" bullets surrounded him, two of them sliced into his shoulder. The pain

ripped through him and as he gasped he was forced underwater. Blood was streaming into the ocean around him, he needed to get to the island before sea animals were attracted to it. He swam the best he could trying not to move his left arm too much. He wasn't sure if the bullets were still stuck in his shoulder, he really hoped they weren't. The waves helped him out, pushing him towards the island rather than working against him.

Hissing in pain he dragged himself up the beach grateful that the salt water had somewhat stopped the bleeding. Well, at least until he had forced his arm to move again.

A fine line of red disturbed the otherwise white sand. He watched the black sails of the Pearl billow in the wind and then Barbossa waved and the ship set sail. The same determination had filled his soul then, he vowed never to use the pistol unless it was for Barbossa and only if he had a clear shot. Closing his eyes he let his mind wander trying to forget the throbbing pain and heat that bore down on him relentlessly he finally found peace..

He'd only spoken of it to one person, Annamaria. She was the only one who knew of the

true events. Elizabeth knew part of it but Annamaria had known where the bullet marks

came from. Barbossa had never realized the damage he'd inflicted nor had Jack been inclined to enlighten him.

He glanced over to see what Annamaria was doing. He closed his eyes, a strange emotion passing through him, she was asleep. Her breath was coming in shallower gasps then it had before though. How much wasn't she telling him?