Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 8: Mysteries Away

"Is it supposed to be doing that?" Jack asked for the umpteenth time. Natie threw him a withering look. She had to be honest, the Pearl wasn't supposed to be sailing away. A single, fearful thought clouded her mind.

"They don't know we're gone," she whispered. They couldn't come back to rescue them, the damage the Pearl had taken was evident. Coming back would be suicide. She'd have to escape by some other means.

"What do we do? Parley maybe?" Jack tried to remember more of the pirate code, something his mother had taught him. All those hours of lessons in history had left his mind the moment a fruit bowl had crashed into his head.

"Hell no," Natie replied, stubborn to the core. "Two options, escape--"

"I like that idea." Natie ignored him.

"Or fight back."

"Fight back? Are you insane? We are surrounded by a crew of fifty-some pirates, unarmed, and we have no reinforcements. How do you suggest we win?" Natie grinned.

"Who said we were going to win?" Before Jack could question her, she pulled her stolen knife out, and handed it to him. "We'll just even the odds a little. We find a hiding spot, and attack them. They won't know what hit them!"

A loud roar of anger from below deck caused jack to jump. "Unless they know we're gone."

Natie narrowed her eyes. "Fine, we escape. But if my foot meets any pirate behind, it is purely coincidental."

"You think you'll single handedly torture these men?"

"Only a little. Now come on, here's our chance." Racing across the deck, Jack was careful to keep his head ducked. He wouldn't mind terribly if he was hit on his arms or legs, but he already had a splitting headache, and didn't want to risk endangering it more.

With a few expert motions, Natie set up a life boat. Jack jumped in, trying to be quiet. There were less canons firing now, and with the crew looking for the escapees, a life boat seemed a logical place. He looked to Natie, and for some reason she wasn't getting in. She was staring at a small figure climbing on the mast. She squinted, trying to make it out. It was small, but not a child. That was when she noticed the tail. Her mind flashed back to the time when Jack first told her the story of the damned Pearl.

The cursed captain Barbossa once owned a monkey. It too was under the curse of the Aztec gold. From what Will Turner had told her, Elizabeth had thrown it into the water. Could it have survived? If it did, it could have lured sailors to the Isla de Muerta. These pirates could really be cursed. There was a great possibility that it wasn't the same monkey. Lots of pirates owned monkeys. But deep down, she knew that this monkey was different.

"We have to get to the Pearl," she said, jumping into the boat.

"Quiet!" But she cut the ropes supporting the boat, and they splashed into the water. She threw an oar at Jack.

"Row as hard as you can!" She plunged the paddle into the water, and wished she'd had something to eat after returning from Port Royal. She was hungry, and had already rowed twice. "The pirates--won't have time--to chase--us," she panted.

"But--they're--they're not--fighting--anymore," Jack called. She snapped her head towards the Death. He was right. The cannons had stopped. The Navy ship was retreating, just like the Pearl. In fact, she couldn't see the Pearl at all.

"That's not good." AS the words left her mouth, the storm around the boat that had seemed to be dying down intensified. Natie pulled a rope from the floor. Tying one end carefully around her waist, she tossed the other end to Jack. "Tie it around your waist." To emphasize her point, she pointed at her waist and pantomimed tying. It worked, one way or another. He just finished the knot when a great blast of lightening came down, striking the boat.

"We have to get out of her," she screamed over the wind.

"Why? The rain will put out the fire," Jack called back. "And the Pearl might see it!"

"But the Burning Death will too," Natie countered. "And we don't want them to find us either, do we?" She scanned the see, and saw a small speck of light in the distance. Maybe an island.

"Are you a good swimmer?" Jack nodded. "Good, no worries then. On the count of three, we jump, and head towards that light. Got it?" Again he nodded, not reading for words, too busy watching the flames slowly consuming the boat. "One, three!"

"What about tw--" But he was cut off by a gulp of seawater rushing into his mouth. He was under water, and he couldn't breath. For the second time in so many hours, he felt himself slip into unconsciousness.

Short and evil! I love it.