Chapter 3, Rescue

"Really great job, Jack...bloody brilliant," Will muttered under his breath. He was leaning against one of the few trees that had not been consumed by the fire roaring in front of him. Jack had insisted that this plan would work, saying that the smoke signal would attract any ship in the Caribbean; and before Will could stop him, he had promptly set fire to the nearest palm. The whole south end of the island was ablaze now; Will could feel the heat on his all ready sun-scorched neck. He wasn't in the best of moods at the moment, and rightly so. Jack, under the impression that a means of transport off the island would present itself within the hour, had not even stopped to think about the reality of food shortage, no shade, and salty, undrinkable seawater. Worse yet, Jack had gone into a frenzy when he found that Elizabeth, on their last trip to this island, had completely burned his entire stash of rum. It was now late afternoon and their second night on the island. The fire had been started this morning, and still there was no sign of a ship. Will grumbled again.

"Lousy plan, trust Jack to get us into a fix like this!"

"Pardon moi, a fix like what?" Jack asked as he sauntered up, looking slightly worse for the shock of rum deficiency, but otherwise his usual flippant, annoying, "Jack Sparrow" self. Will gave him an ugly look.

"A fix like what? A fix like what?"

"Aye, I do believe that was me question." Will shook with suppressed rage, his temper getting the better of him.

"No food, no shade, no rum, no way out of here, no water…" he said in a deadly whisper. "What kind of fix would you call it?" Jack fell silent for a moment, apparently thinking, then said innocently,

"One requiring a pair of sea turtles and rope." He looked unflinchingly at Will, who stared back for a wee moment, then burst out furiously,

"Go! Go on, get outta here!" He motioned wildly towards the other side of the island. Jack stood there a moment, perplexed. He shook out his beads and asked in a huffy voice,

"Now just where am I supposed to go, whel.."

"NOW!" Jack jumped at the pitch of Will's voice and, covering his ears, swaggered quickly out of the vicinity. Once he had crossed the island and was sitting on the beach, he threw a surprised glance back where he had come from.

"Hmm," he mused. "Lad's got a high voice…" he trailed off. (Later, after he'd sat there a while, pondering)…"Ha! I knew he was a eunich!"

(Later that evening)

Jack woke up suddenly; he'd unwittingly dropped off into a doze earlier. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Then rubbed them again. And again.

"By holy rum! I'm not dreamin'!" He hopped up into a standing position and started running back and forth across the beach, waving his arms. Halfway frantic, he tore off his white shirt and started waving it too. It was such as Will found him…barefoot, naked from waist up, running across the beach in the pale moonlight, screaming and waving the white shirt. For a moment, Will just stopped and stared. Then he shook his head to clear it. This was NOT the Jack he knew.

'He's gone stark-raving crazy!' Will thought. Just then Jack caught sight of him.

"Hey Will! HEY WILL! Come 'ere! Do what I'm doing!"

"Excuuuse me?" Will stated pointedly. Jack ran over and before he could say anything, ripped Will's shirt right off over his head, nearly knocking him to the ground. "HEY!" Will screamed, his tanned chest heaving with indignation and anger. "GIVE ME THAT! Jack, what are you doing!" He leapt up and started wrestling with Jack over the shirt.

"Will, stop! Damn it, ye big-headed whelp, I'm trying to attract the ship!" Will stopped in mid-punch and stared at Jack.

"What ship?"

"That one, you imbasil!" Will quickly ceased all efforts of fighting and turned to the sea in front of him. It was dark now, but against the shadows was the ghostly outline of a ship. A Navy vessel, by the look of it's build. Will hopped up and down, yelling…so did Jack. The shirts lay forgotten behind them. Finally, a longboat began to visualize…it had sneaked up on them, looking for all the world like it had just vanished and appeared right on the beach. The two pirates sighed in relief…then a thought occurred to Will.

"Jack! Jack!" he whispered.

"Yah?"

"We're pirates!"

"Oh, yeah, ok…what's the point?"

"The point is, idiot, that we're pirates and there are Navy officers on that ship!" Comprehension dawned too late on Jack's face.

"Ah, well…too late now. Besides, anything's better than starving here on this infernal island."

Will froze as the cold barrel of a Marine's pistol lodged itself in his neck.

"Yeah," he breathed. "I hope you're right!"