CHAPTER 3 – NEW QUARTERS

Jack winced as he pushed himself up with his injured arm. "No bloody idea." He sighed and positioned himself against the wall opposite Will. The filthy little cell was so small that Jack's long legs remained slightly bent when he tried to stretch out.

Will hugged his knees tightly to his chest, fighting off the cold damp infiltrating their little hole. Jack massaged his aching shoulder. "Never see this ship in me life, mate."

"You must've! They certainly seemed to know you!"

"Everyone knows me, Will! I'm Captain Jack Sparrow!"

"Yeah, Jack, I kinda knew that already." He jumped up and tried to pace the cell, but covered its length in less that two strides. He plopped down again, frustrated. "There has to be a reason they wanted us."

Well, I expect we'll find out soon enough. Besides, dear William, I doubt anyone was looking for you."

Will looked slightly hurt. "Why not? I'm dangerous!"

"Oh, yes, the whole Caribbean is out chasing after the rogue blacksmith from Port Royal." Will stared at the ground but didn't argue. Jack was right. They were more than likely after him, and Will would once again be reduced to leverage.

There was no way to keep track of time in the windowless prison. They were only fed three times, so Jack guessed that meant three days on the ship. Each meal was the same: a crust of stale bread and chunk of rancid meat each, along with a flask of rum to be shared. Not being quite the drinker Jack is, Will wasn't pleased by the choice of beverage. "I don't see why they can't just give us water."

"Be thankful. Water won't take your mind off your stomach, boy. If you want water so bad, why not try some of that." He gestured at the inch or so of standing water they had been sitting in. Will watched a dead rat float past his feet. As Jack was raising the flask to his lips again, Will snatched it away and finished it himself.

A few hours went by after the third meal. They passed them mostly in silence, each pondering their situation – how they had ended up here and what the future held. In the quiet they could hear the slow, monotonous rhythm of the water droplets falling from the ceiling. Every so often, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the deck, making the prison walls vibrate. Muffled orders penetrated the gloomy silence. Both men always strained to make out the words, hoping to hear something regarding themselves, but nothing could be deciphered.

Suddenly the cell door was thrown open and the scar-faced man entered, followed closely by another. Both carried bonds. As he locked Jack's wrists behind his back once again, he whispered, "Having fun yet, matey?" He cackled in Jack's ear then spoke to his friend. Don't forget the eyes, now." Jack saw a look of fear pass over Will's eyes before they were covered with a filthy rag. A second later, Jack's own vision was obscured.

The captors didn't take any precautions when they "led" their prisoners up to the deck. Both men lost their footing every few steps and were dragged along until they could regain it. On the deck, they could feel the fresh air blow through their hair and they eagerly filled their lungs with it. The sun radiated warmth onto their faces, but no light could reach their eyes through the thick blindfolds.

Jack stumbled and skated down a slippery plank and onto a wet dock. Will, less experienced and surefooted, slipped near the top and slid down the rest of the way on his butt. He fell forward at the end, smashing his chin on the splintering wood. Will could hear a large crowd laughing at him and was glad Jack hadn't been able to see the spill. A strong, grizzly voice silenced those nearest to Will.

"Quit standing around giggling like a bunch of little girls! Get that clumsy bastard movin' or it'll be your arses in the dungeons!"

They were shoved through noisy crowds for what seemed like miles, but slowly the bodies began to thin and soon the only people within earshot were the crew. The terrain became rocky and they started moving uphill. It seemed to Jack that he was being purposely led straight into the biggest boulders and deepest potholes, making him fall all over the place. He felt sharp rocks tear through his pants and rip his skin as he stumbled over them.

Eventually, they were led into another cold, drafty building. They tripped up and down countless staircases and were shoved along corridors until Will walked face-first into a steel door, which seemed to please the crew quite a bit. Will was pushed aside, the door was opened, and the prisoners, now bleeding all over themselves, were thrown in.

Jack had expected to hear the door clang shut, but heard the same grizzly voice from the dock instead. "Well, well, well. The infamous Jack Sparrow. I've been looking for you for quite awhile now. What a pleasure it is to finally meet you." The voice was cold and Jack could detect no signs of pleasure.

"It's Captain Jack Sparrow! Why is that so hard to remember?" Jack was answered with a swift kick to the stomach, knocking the air out of him. He tried to regain his composure. "And may I ask who you are?" he croaked.

"Certainly Mr. Sparrow. Me name's Lange. Captain Richard Lange."