Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. I saw Willy Wonka today and that's the closest I'm going to get to Johnny Depp any time soon.
Sorry this took so long! My parents took an impromptu vacation with me.
Chapter 9: A Bottle of Rum
"Well, the land lover is awake," a voice said as Jack Turner started coughing up a lungful of seawater. He turned to see Natie wiping her mouth on her sleeve. "You've been out like a pirate after too many bottles of rum. Thank heavens for that rope, or you'd be a dead man."
"What happened?" he asked, looking around. From the looks, they were on a small beach.
"We were tossed overboard from a life boat with the Pearl sailing into the distance. Good enough answer?"
"Uh, yes. But where exactly are we?" Jack asked.
"I don't know. I've been waiting for you to get up rather than explore. You good enough to travel?" Natie asked, the slightest hint of concern in her voice. Jack nodded. "Oh good. 'Cause I wasn't going to wait any longer." With that she got up, and started looking around. He hurried after her.
"If we follow the beach, it should lead to a town. They stay close to the sea," he said. She turned on him.
"Oh really? After living aboard a pirate vessel for nine years I never knew that," she huffed.
"Sorry, I was just trying to help." Natie stalked off mumbling. When she wasn't looking, he planted a piece of driftwood on the beach. If they decided to head the other direction, they could use it to mark their progress coming back.
Setting off after the angry girl, he looked around at the thick palm trees. It was beautiful really. A thought came to him.
"Hey Natie, what if this is heaven?" he joked, and luckily he heard Natie laugh. She wasn't that mad anymore.
"I hope not."
"Why?"
"I don't see another person around. I'd hate for it to be just you and me here for eternity. Nothing against you, mate," she added hastily. "Just that it would get boring really fast."
They continued walking, exchanging stories, comparing life on a ship to life on land. Jack was sure he was winning the debate when he was stopped dead in his tracks. Ahead of him, a piece of driftwood was lying on the sand, the same way he'd placed the one earlier.
"Natie, I think we're on an island," he choked. She looked back at him confused, and saw the wood, along with two sets of footprints fading on the sand.
"Bloody Hell," she whispered. "It's a small one if we got around the whole thing that quickly."
"We should venture inland. Maybe other people were here and …" Jack stopped. If there were other people, they might not be friendly. There didn't seem to be much food on the isle, and the natives might not like having two more mouths to feed. Unless they were cannibalistic. Jack suppressed a shiver. There had only been one other possible place where people had been. "How about we go to that burnt spot?"
"Why? There was no one there," Natie said, her voice hollow.
"But there were people. Maybe they got off somehow."
"Alright. We'll check it out."
"Odd, I think there are bottles over here."
"What?" Natie asked, inspecting the darkened circle that seemed to be the epicenter of the fire.
"Look," Jack pulled out a glass bottle, "it appears to have been rum in this one. Someone burned it, most likely to create a signal. Maybe there's more!"
"No," Natie whispered. "This was the island that Jack was trapped on all those years ago. And it was your mother that started this fire. She burned all the rum."
His mind flashed back to when he sat by the fire, and his father told him the story for the first time. Most of it had slipped his mind in the confusion of battle.
"Maybe she lied," Jack said hopefully. He started looking around for the manmade cave that held the illegal drink. If anything it could be shelter. Natie followed him. When he found it a few yards off, he slowly climbed down. There were chests all around. He tried to pick one up but it was too heavy. Natie helped him pull it up.
"There's got to be something in here that we can use," he said, breaking off the lock. Odd, he thought, it's barely rusted. After nearly fourteen years it should be dust. And why would someone put a lock on hidden chests of rum?
"Jack!" He felt a slap across his face. "Stop daydreaming and help me pull this lid off!"
Ignoring his stinging cheek, he pulled it off, and tossed it into the sand.
"Oh my God," Natie gasped. Inside the chest was a pile of gold coins. "This is a pirate's horde. And we found it! By the code it's ours!"
"No it's not," Jack said, his voice a whisper.
"What are you talking about?"
"It's theirs," he said feebly, pointing at a pure black ship on the horizon. "And their coming fro it."
I love evil!
