The morning came bright and beautiful and brought with it a cloudless sky and a cool breeze that carried the smell of salt up the beach and onto the sand dune where Will slept. His mind had lost its control over his consciousness long before and he uncontrollably slipped into the dark oblivion of sleep. However, at the smell of a fresh day breaking, he was gently awakened. His wounds burned from the sun beating down on them and the rough sand scraping against them. His muscles ached and his head was throbbing. His mouth was so dry his could barely open it. He had no idea how long he had been asleep, but he guessed that it had not been more than a eight hours, judging on the fact that his last memory was of the huge moon looming overhead and trying to find the North Star.
He raised his head a few inches off the ground and looked at his surroundings. He could immediately see that he was about twenty yards from the tree line and about thirty yards from the water. He knew that to survive for however long he would be there he would need fresh water and some form of food. He also knew that his best chance of finding those things would be in the woods, not out on the beach.
He slowly rolled himself over onto his stomach and began searching for something that he could use to cut the ropes that bound his hands. He spotted a broken shell with a sharp end lying not five yards away from him at the bottom of the dune. Wincing, he slowly rolled himself down the slope, the harsh sand slicing deeper into his wounds and drawing fresh blood. He finally reached the bottom and managed to grab the shell as he rolled over it. It was extremely difficult to cut through the thick ropes behind his back, and ended up cutting himself several times before succeeding.
His hands now free, Will set about slowly dragging himself towards the trees. Unable to stand because of his serious leg injuries, it took him almost half and hour to reach the cool shade of the trees where he allowed himself several moment's rest. He set himself to identifying his injuries. There was obviously a large portion of flesh on his leg that a dog had managed to tear off, exposing the bone. He was certain that several of his ribs had been broken and deep gashes covered his body.
"You do excellent work, Norrington, I've got to give you that," Will muttered under his breath.
He ripped the sleeve off his shirt and used it to make a bandage for his leg. It hurt terribly to tie the bandage around it, and had to stuff his fist in his mouth to stop himself from crying out in pain. When the wave of pain had subsided, he suddenly remembered that he was incredibly thirsty. He had not eaten anything since the huge breakfast Elizabeth had-
Elizabeth. Norrington. The fear that he had controlled his thoughts before suddenly returned to him. He shook his head. He refused to allow himself to dwell on it. He had to survive. Survival was the only way he would ever be able to see Elizabeth again and over throw whatever horrible plot Norrington had.
More determined now than ever, he dragged himself to his feet, favoring his injured leg, and clinging to a tree for support. He slowly staggered off into the forest, determined to survive, but even more determined to return to Port Royal and his wife, Elizabeth.
Will had actually been unconscious for much longer than he had assumed, for at the same time that he was awakening, Commodore Norrington and his ship were docking at Port Royal, the ship's brig filled with pirates captured in Tortuga. One by one they were led from the ship and down to the Port's jail. Elizabeth stood on the dock, anxiously awaiting Will. She kept expecting him to be the next one to emerge off the ramp, bit it was just more and more crew and soldiers every time. Commodore Norrington finally emerged on the dock, eliciting a great cheer from the crowd gathered there. He was the last one to disembark, Elizabeth realized. Without thinking, she pushed her way through the crowd and rushed up to the commodore.
"Commodore Norrington!" she gasped, out of breath. "Commodore, where is Will? I haven't seen him."
He looked at her sadly. "I am so sorry to tell you this, Elizabeth, but-"
"No," she interrupted, "no, don't say that he- that he-"
"He is dead, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth's eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted.