Disclaimer: You get the point, I'll skip humiliating myself again.

Chapter 7

As the three of us strolled over to the helm, the lookout began yelling. The Pearl was creating the storm clouds (or rather dragging them behind her) Harris had seen, and was catching up faster than we had thought. Elizabeth still didn't believe us when we said we were being chased (and caught) successfully. Course she had the thickest head I had seen in a damn long time.

We ran the final few steps, taking the stairs two at a time (or three in Will's case). Gibbs and Elizabeth were also there, her thin bandage beginning to show the blood seeping out of her cut. She was bombarding Anamaria with questions.

"It's the Pearl," called Anamaria. "She's gaining on us!"

"I could sort of tell," I muttered to Harris, who grinned. "I mean, after all, we have been chasing her for more than three weeks now, right? You'd think we could recognize her by this point."

"That's impossible! This is the fastest ship in the Carribean, how are they…" Elizabeth was beside herself.

"You can tell them that once they've caught us," snapped Anamaria. Everyone's faces darkened at her words.

After a moment or so of silence, Elizabeth piped up again. "We shallow on the draft, right?" she asked Gibbs and Anamaria.

"Aye?" said Anamaria, very carefully.

"Then can't we lose them on the shoals?" shot back Elizabeth, pointing off the port side. OK, so maybe she wasn't quite as stupid as I had taken her for.

"Just might work," muttered Will, looking at Elizabeth with some sort of pride. Dear Lord, spare me.

Thankfully, Elizabeth didn't notice. "Lower the anchor on the right side," she was prodding Anamaria. She looked around. "On the sta'board side!"

Will nodded, and Anamaria looked like she wanted to go kill something. "You're daft," she snapped. "Both of you!"

"Daft like Jack!" murmured Gibbs. He looked at the Pearl, who was rapidly closing the gap, and the shoals. "We don't have much time, just time enough." He ran over to the rail and began to bellow orders.

Soon the crew began to bail everything that might weigh down the ship overboard. Hannah, Monica, Harris and I were bent on saving as many cannonballs as possible, and as many chained cannonballs. Didn't matter if we couldn't kill them; we'd blow 'em to bits. That might slow them down for at least a little while. We could sink the Pearl. Monica would probably murder me if we did while Jack was still on board, but that's OK. I didn't care.

Suddenly the ship began to lurch to the side, throwing everyone off balance (and making Barbossa think something along the lines of What the bloody hell do they think they're doing?). I whirled and screamed "Let go!" at Anamaria, as did three or four other people. The she began a clean swing, bring us completely around, side-to-side with the Black Pearl.

"It's showtime," I whispered to no one in particular, although Hannah did gulp.

Have you ever been in a fight, and there's one point where everyone's just standing there, ready to hit, kick, bite, and claw until they win? And while it's only for a second or so, it feels like an eternity? Well let me assure you, it's ten times worse when you have a row of loaded cannons pointed at the ship your life depends on staying afloat. Oh shit.

Unfortunatly, those so-called ten eternities was probably less then fifteen seconds. Then we were under fire, and not giving nearly as good as we got.

Harris, Hannah and I were in one of the cannon holds, firing all the ammo we had saved from being tossed overboard. I was on the left side, in front so I could load the cannon after we ran out of stored ammo, and Harris on the right, serving the same purpose. Hannah got to light the fuse, because she likes to play with fire, although this wasn't exactly the best time to use is for entertainment. So many booms, I wasn't sure which one were ours and which ones weren't. Sadly enough, we found out the hard way that that one in particular hadn't been ours.

A cannonball had come crashing through the gun hole, killing Harris instantly and giving Hannah and me an assortment of nasty cuts. But the instant after Harris died, her corpse vanished. OK, that's kind of weird, for one of your best friends to get killed by a cannonball then for her dead body to disappear into thin air. A little on the freaky side, if you ask me.

Anyways, next thing we knew we were being bundled off to the Pearl, then strapped to the main mast. Pintel and Ragetti were walking up and down the line (or rather around the loop).

"If one of you moves as much as an inch, I'll have your guts for garters," growled Pintel, while Ragetti giggled and ran a thumb along the edge of his blade. Monica gulped and shook silently next to me.

Barbossa started to grin, and Elizabeth apparently took that as her cue to attack. It was also apparently the moment when the Interceptor had been scheduled to blow it down to Davey Jones locker.

"Will…" she whispered, and turned her grief into anger to fully attack Barbossa with.

Naturally she didn't succeed, with a half a crew of hardened pirates between her and her goal. She was shoved back, with some comment that she had enjoyed their hospitality last time, so it was time to return the favor. She was tossed into the arms of the waiting pirates, screaming at us to help her. Not that we really could, tied up like we were.

And yet of course, who has to come bounding over the rail like little Prince Not-so-charming? William Turner. Not exactly the last person on earth I wanted to see, but certainly not the first. But how did he avoid the explosion? He had been trapped below decks as far as I knew.

Jack emerged from the crowd, telling Will quietly not to do anything to stupid. Unfortunately, as he already knew, Will was incapable of something as simple as that.

"She goes free!" Will yelled, climbing over the rail.

"Don't do anything stupid," muttered Jack, crossing his fingers slightly.

Will looked at him. "You can't," he said. "I can." He grabbed a gun from a nearby pirate and pointed it at his lower jaw. There followed a whole little shpiel about "name your terms", and "we have an accord", etc. Then (because the agreements had included that the crew were not to be harmed), we were all thrown in the brig. A little wet, no where near as nice as the Royal Navy ship we had gotten used to, but at least the women had their own itty-bitty cell, right across from the men's.

"Oh more fun, right back to Isle de Muerta," murmured Anamaria, was promptly hit in the face with a filthy mop by Pintel. Questions whirled through my head. We hadn't been turning enough to be heading to the isle. But where else could we be headed? And what had happened to Harris's corpse? Did we return to the real world when we died? What were the pirates going to do with us, the buccaneer crew? What was going to happen next?

A/N: Since no one reviewed, I don't have to do any thank you's. I'll have the next chap up in two weeks (I'm using this as a writing assignment too). Review!