Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. And Robert Louis Stevenson gets the credit for the character of Long John Silver, though I have toyed with him a bit, as well. Teehee.
Chapter 51: Long John Silver
Camille unsheathed her sword, holding it out in front of her to look at the reflections. They stopped outside Gretchen's room. There were clothes and furniture strewn about everywhere, and for once it was not because one of her famous tantrums.
She held Priscilla close to her, searching the room for anything. She kicked the door, making sure that no one was hiding behind it. The room was empty, so they tried Priscilla's. Empty as well.
They both went across the hall to Gabriel's room, and Camille had to steady her hand a bit from holding the sword at eye level for so long. But sure enough, they were both standing there with swords to their throats. She looked at them, placing one hand on her hip. "Are you really planning on killing us? You need us alive," she stated.
"But we only need one Thatcher," one of them stated.
Priscilla held onto Camille's trousers. Camille put her sword down. "Point taken." It looked like there was no way out of this. She bit her lip, thinking for a second. "D'you have the map?"
They looked at each other, and Gabriel looked at her like she'd just gone insane. But she winked at him as he produced the map. One of the pirates greedily snatched it out of his hand, and they were forced downstairs, through the rain, and onto a life boat towards an incredibly horrid-looking boat.
While they were rowing, one of the pirates lunged for Gretchen, pinning her to the bottom of the boat as she screamed. Gabriel tried to protest, but a pistol was held to his head. Camille's eyes widened, and she instinctively put her hands over Priscilla's ears and made the child look towards the sea. She began singing, and her voice got louder as Gretchen's screams and cries got louder.
Finally it was over, and Gretchen just lay at the bottom of the boat crying softly, curled up in a ball. Camille released Priscilla, but the child still clung to her. Nothing could have prepared Camille for what she was going to encounter once aboard this ship.
They climbed onto the deck, and Camille's weapons were taken from her immediately, along with any remaining pistols that Gabriel had. Gretchen dropped to her knees, whimpering and still crying, her entire body shaking. Camille stood in front of her and Priscilla, with Gabriel next to her. The rain was letting up some, but the ship still rocked back and forth violently. Even Camille had to steady herself a bit, trying to get her sea legs back. She reached out to steady Gabriel, who was having trouble standing up.
A cabin door opened, and the one legged man appeared. He was as steady as ever on just one leg, and this made Camille stand up a bit straighter. He approached them, though keeping his distance. Upon seeing Camille, he burst out laughing. And for as cruel and twisted at the man's heart was, he had a most jovial laugh. This made him all the more terrifying as he stood there, guffawing.
Camille stood her ground, patiently waiting for Long John to speak. And he did, finally. "So, Miss Quartermaine, it's you that be the heir to the treasure at Diablo's Gate. I never would ha' thought it," he chuckled. He put his hand out and looked up. "It be a bit wet, don't it?" he said, looking at her.
He looked at his colleagues. "Those three…in the brig. Get the map. Miss Quartermaine, if you will," he said, signaling her to follow him into his cabin.
She did, and her heart nearly broke when she was Jack lying in a heap at the foot of his desk. He was waving his arms about, singing or at least attempting it. She couldn't understand a word that came out of his mouth.
"Get up, you buffoon," Long John said, stepping over him and taking a seat at his desk. "Keep drinkin' like that an' ye'll drain the whole bloody ship. Ain't nothin' worse than sober pirates, don't ye agree Quartermaine?"
Jack focused a little at the name "Quartermaine". He moved his head, sitting up and swooning. "Where am I?" he slurred.
She shook her head, looking pitifully at him. "Oh, Jack."
He looked in her direction, and though it took his eyes awhile to get past her breasts, he finally saw that it was her. "Cam…Cate? Cameron? Camden, is that you, love?"
Camille rolled her eyes. "I'll deal with you later. I don't deal with scallywags until they're sober enough to remember the beating that I give them," she spat.
Long John looked at her, amused. "You're goin' to be waitin' quite a long time, missy. Dear Jack has been drinkin' for weeks on end now. Wouldn't be surprised if the man's innards had melted by now."
"You are not to harm those three," Camille said, getting right to the point.
Long John leaned forward in his chair, grinning like an idiot. "And why do you think I wouldn't, lass?"
"Because if you do, then I won't tell you where I've hidden Jack's key."
Long John's face went blank, and he leaned over the side of the desk and looked at his ally. "Jack, where'd you put the key?" he asked plainly.
"The key?" Jack said, pulling himself up to a standing position. "What key?"
"The key to Diablo's Gate," Long John said tiredly, rolling his eyes.
"The key? Ah, the key!" Jack finally realized. "It's right here in my pocket," he said, digging around in his coat and almost falling over in the process. "No, it's not in there. Where did I bloody put it?" he asked, patting himself down.
Camille cleared her throat. "Jack…Jack! I have the key. I stole it from you," she said, clearly enunciating her words.
"You…you stole my key?" Jack said. "But I had it. You…you whore, you!" he insulted her slowly.
She chewed on her lip. Nothing about this man could possibly surprise her anymore. She turned back to Silver, who seemed almost tolerable compared to this. "Yes, I stole the key from Jack. And if you want to know where it is, then the four of us are to remain unharmed until the Gate is opened."
Long John grimaced, but nodded. "Aye," he nodded.
But Camille put her hand up. "I'm not done, Captain. By 'unharmed' I mean…" and she began counting off on her fingers, "we are not to be raped, hit, beaten, tortured, starved, dragged in the water, stranded on any islands, made to walk the plan-"
Long John put his hand up. "You've made your point, Quartermaine. You drive a hard bargain, though. If worse comes to worse, I can just cut off the parts o' you that I be needin' to open that Gate."
"Yes, I bet you will," she said, glancing again at Jack and sighing heavily. Her heart was heavy as she was shown to the brig, and locked in the cell with the Thatchers.