Secrets of the Caribbean
Written By: Riley Barton
[Chapter Two]
Jack Sparrow lazily twirled the empty flagon of rum around and around, watching in utter boredom. He had been in this very same cell quite a few months ago, and, unfortunately, the door had been fixed and made out of a new metal, meaning that even if Will Turner came to bust him out again, he would not be able to do it in the same manner as he had last time.
He glanced at the two people in the cell beside his. One of them he recognized from the last time he had been stuck in here, while the other looked freshly caught- his clothes were still in pretty good condition. The older one was, again, holding a dog bone out through one of the openings in the door, waving it around in an attempt to get the keys from the dog that held them in his mouth. He rolled his eyes as he watched them. He had tried that once, when he had gotten really desperate. It had almost worked until he had insulted the mutt. Then, shortly after, a dead guard had come rolling down the steps, soon followed by two of his old crewmates. Yes, he remembered that day well.
Suddenly, the door at the top of the stairs was thrown open and two guards came tumbling down. Jack raised an eyebrow. "Déjà vu," he muttered. Quickly he tossed the empty flagon aside and slumped further on the narrow bench he was sitting on in an effort to make it look as if he was asleep. He listened as a pair of footsteps came down the stairs, and, from the sound of it, step onto one of the soldier's arms, crushing the bones. Still, he did not open his eyes until…
"I know you're awake, Jack."
Instantaneously his eyes popped open and his head swiveled in the direction of the very familiar voice. He stared through the grates of the cell door to the figure standing beyond them. She still wore her long black cloak with the hood drawn over her head, but he knew it was her- Scarlett. He still dreamt of that voice at night, especially when he was lonely. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bench, stumbled to his feet, and slowly made his way to the door. Casually he looped his arms through the grates, leaning on them, and peered passed the door to the woman on the other side. He smiled charmingly. "Scarlett, love," he said huskily.
She reached up and removed her hood so she could glare at him openly. "Don't start with me, Jack," she warned, her tone of voice masking his. "I'm not here to get you out."
Jack frowned, understanding flickering across his eyes. "Ah, so you're the Commodore's informer."
She smirked. "You deserved to be caught," she spat.
"Come on, darlin', can't we put the past behind us now?" His eyes stared into hers, and Scarlett noticed the all-too familiar gleam. She had once melted whenever he had looked at her that way, but not anymore.
"You left me," she growled, folding her arms across her chest. She smiled at the disappointment in his eyes as he realized his only chance of getting to her was not going to work. "And to top it off, it was you who cut the rope." She lurched forward, bracing her hands against the door, and leaned forward so she was an inch from Jack's face. "You, Jack, it was all you. You cut the rope, you left me there, and even you were the cause as to why I was climbing so slowly that night. It was all because of you, Jack. All because of you."
"Think clearly, love. How could I have been the cause as to why you were so slow that night eleven years ago?" He reached up to stroke her face but she stepped backward, away from him.
"Think about it," she hissed. "Think real hard, Jack." When he continued to stare at her, she scowled, shaking her head. "Forget it," she grumbled. She glanced at the men in the cell next to Jack's. Both men were looking at her with readable expressions on their faces. "Don't even think about it," she said.
The shuffling of feet and a low growl caused all eyes to turn to the dog in the corner. He had crawled from his hiding place under the wooden bench, and he was now looking up at Scarlett with an angry look, if that was possible. Scarlett bent down and held out a hand to the dog. "Come here," she whispered softly, her voice transforming from an angry to a warm, loving tone. "I won't hurt you. Come here."
The dog hesitated, glancing to the three faces peering out from behind the two cell doors. He looked back to Scarlett and, after a moment, finally seemed to relax. He slowly padded toward her, sitting down on his rump when he came close enough. Scarlett reached up and gently massaged the areas behind his ears. The dog moaned, his tongue hanging out in happiness. The keys dropped from his mouth and before Jack or the other two prisoners could reach for them, Scarlett brushed them aside. She continued to rub the dog's ears for another minute before she stopped. "Good boy," she said, picked up the key ring, and stood to her feet. The dog barked happily, and then ran past her.
"What do ye plan on doin' wit' those keys?" the older man in the other cell asked, smiling at her. She couldn't help noticing the fact that the man was missing all his teeth except three. She turned her back on him.
Jack smiled at her, not letting his gaze travel to the keys that he so desperately wanted to get his hands on. "What are you planning to do with those?" he asked.
She twirled the key ring around her index finger. "I can only think of one place I would love to put them," she replied seductively, smiling.
The smile on Jack's face didn't falter. "So you do still have feelings for me then."
Scarlett snarled in a very unladylike fashion and tossed the keys into a far corner, away from both prison cells. "Bastard," she said through clenched teeth.
"Sticks and stones, love," he replied.
Scarlett had really grown to hate that phrase of his. She sent him one last glare before turning and heading up the stairs.
"You aren't really going to leave me here?" Jack called after her, unable to keep the slight plea out of his voice.
She paused and looked down to him. "Why should I help you?" she asked him. "After all, you were the one who let me fall into the ocean and then leave me and your-" She froze, a peculiar look passing over her face. Fortunately Jack didn't question her about the slip-up.
"I know you think of me as callous, vindictive, and insufferable," Jack said, "but how 'bout we start a'fresh, lay the past behind us?"
Scarlett gave him a blank look. She took two steps down, making it look as if she was giving in, but then she stopped and bent down to the two limp guards on the floor. She roughly pushed one of the men aside and removed something from his hand. She straightened, balancing the canteen in her hand. She glanced at Jack, hiding a smile, and popped off the canteen's top. She raised the canteen to her lips and swung her head back, gulping down the fiery liquid. She drank until it was empty before letting it drop to the floor. "Rum really is delicious, ain't it?" she asked Jack, smiling at him venomously.
Jack stared at her, his charming smile pasted on his face, but Scarlett could see the longing in his eyes. She knew that flagon in his cell had dried up long ago, and that the captain of the Black Pearl was craving his favourite drink. Revenge was bittersweet.
"I'll be seeing you, Jack," she called, waving at him cheekily before disappearing up the stairs.
The Black Pearl bobbed along on the ocean waves with the wind billowing at the canvas sails, the sun basking it in a ray of glory. It was a shame that the ship was still anchored in the exact position as it had been a week ago.
Scarlett stared up at the large ship as she rowed her boat closer to it. She had been shocked to find the ship still there, but then she had thought about it, and came to realize that it was a good thing. Taking over Jack Sparrow's pride and joy and then sailing away, never to return, was enough to satisfy her thirst for revenge.
Thoughts of her revenge echoed in her mind as she reached the ship and, after securing the boat she had arrived on to the anchor line, she shimmied up the rope. It was a long, slow climb, and she slid numerous times because of the salty moisture and barnacles that clung to the rope, but after ten minutes she reached the bulwark and clambered over. She glanced down at her hands, wincing at the major rope burns. She would worry about those later. She looked about the deck, searching for a familiar face. To her surprise, there was only one person on deck, and he was facing in the opposite direction. Slowly she made her way toward him, creeping along as silent as a mouse. She had almost reached the man when a loud caw sounded loud and clear, arousing the man's attention.
Scarlett reacted, lunging for the man who had been caught off guard, when suddenly something flew at her, cutting a deep gash along her right upper arm. She cursed, rolling to the side and gripping her bleeding arm tightly. She looked up, her heart skipping a beat as she found herself surrounded by the crew of the Black Pearl. Not a single one of them were familiar. She frowned. "Who are all of you?" she asked, looking at each face in turn, hoping she had been mistaken. "Where are Jacobs and Barbossa, Bootstrap and Connelly?"
A look of surprise flashed across the eyes of every crewmember. An older looking man with graying hair stepped forward, a look of uncertainty on his face. "How do ye know of Barbossa and Bootstrap?"
She looked at the man carefully. "They were old crewmates of mine on this ship eleven years ago. I hadn't realized Jack had found a new crew."
An air of excitement passed through the crew. "You know Jack? How is he?" the man asked quickly, moving closer to her with each word.
Scarlett stumbled to her feet and backed away. She winced as she bumped into something, her finger roughly running across the bloody gash. "He's fine," she replied through gritted teeth. "Misses his rum, the lazy drunk, but he's alive all the same," she added to herself.
"Who ye be, lass?" the man asked, a friendlier tone coming into his voice.
"Scarlett Bane, an old friend of Jack's." She figured this new crew of his would not take lightly to enemies, so it seemed playing the long forgotten friend was the only way she would be able to get through to them.
"Why should we believe ye!" an angry, feminine voice shouted from the back. A young woman with tanned skin stepped forward, glaring at her. "Ye've no proof."
"Settle down, Anamaria," the man said. "If she says she's a friend of Jack's, we've no reason not to believe 'er."
Scarlett studied the young woman with disdain. "I see Jack has found a new lover, has he?" she muttered.
Anamaria would have struck her if not for the fact that two of the other men stepped forward to restrain her. "Shut yer mouth!" she spat. "I'm no lover of 'is. He owes me a ship!"
"A ship?" Scarlett stared at the girl with a look of disbelief.
"He stole mine," she replied, growling at the memory. "The thieving bastard!"
Scarlett smiled, cocking her head to the side. "Actually, I believe the expression is borrowed without permission."
A loud guffaw caused Scarlett to jump and look to the man standing closest. He slapped his knee and shook his head. "If ye ain't a friend of Jack's, I'll go to Hell willingly." He stuck out his hand. "The name's Gibbs, lass."
She shook his hand after carefully wiping her bloodied hand on her pants. She couldn't help liking this guy, for some reason. He just had this friendly persona that drew everyone to him. "Pleasure," she replied.
"We best get that cut cleaned up," Gibbs said. "Can't have you dripping blood all over Jack's clean deck now, can we?"
The horror, Scarlett thought with a roll of her eyes.
Gibbs led her into the main cabin and had her sit on the bed while he went about finding the proper materials. Scarlett gazed about the room, feeling a wave of homesickness sweep over her. She had spent many hours in this same cabin, pouring over maps and other things with Jack. They had been close, then. How could everything have changed so drastically?
"Here we are, lass." Gibbs sat on the bed beside her and began cleaning the wound. Scarlett hissed in pain, wincing. "What, you expected it to be painless? What kind of a pirate are ye?" Gibbs joked. He finished wrapping the wound in a makeshift wrap and patted her on the shoulder. "All done. You just lie right here while me and the crew 'ave a meetin'." He stood to leave, but Scarlett called for him to stop.
"A meeting on what?" she asked curiously.
Gibbs smiled warmly. "Jack's situation. We ain't just gonna let him die in that cell. We're gonna do something about it."
Scarlett frowned. Why the hell not? She thought, but said instead, "What about the code? You know, the code where you leave the stragglers behind?"
Gibbs shrugged, his smile growing. "We consider the code to be more like guidelines, really. Sleep well now!" And he ducked out the door.
Scarlett stared at the closed door in disbelief. "Guidelines?" If the code was now considered 'guidelines', how was she going to convince this new crew to leave Jack behind?
A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! I was thrilled to get them. I hope you still like this story. Don't forget to review!