Summary: There's a zombie outbreak aboard the Black Pearl. Those not infected must come up with a way to escape before they, too, succumb to the disease. Rated M for gore. Sparrabeth. One-shot.
A/N: I found a YouTube channel called Node yesterday. Some of their videos are essentially irl zombie infection challenges. It's those videos that inspired this one-shot.
The Outbreak
They'd noticed it at dawn, when the men had awakened and set to work for the day. Some of the crew had been acting odd. Others were injured with gaping wounds across their torsos, but weren't dead. It'd only gotten worse as the day had progressed. By noon, those unaffected realized what was happening.
That a zombie outbreak was upon them.
By the time the last light had faded from the sky, more than three quarters of the crew had been infected. The survivors were either boarded up in the captain's cabin or were up in the rigging, shooting down any zombies who dared to climb up after them. The zombies stood in a mass on the main deck, aimlessly roaming.
"Captain, help me!" Someone screamed as he slipped from the ratlines, hanging by a mere couple of fingers.
"Hang on, lad!" Jack Sparrow, captain of the ship of doomed souls, scrambled down towards the young crewman, barely being able to see him in the moonlight. He reached his position, stretching a hand down to him. "Grab it!"
The man, no more than a boy, tried to pull upward to grab the offered hand, but didn't have enough strength. "I can't!"
His fingers slipped free of the rope and he fell.
"No!" Jack roared, eyes widening in horror.
The moment felt prolonged to the captain. The crew member's screams of fear filled the air as he plummeted into the mob of zombies. The screams turned into agonizing ones as the zombies clawed at him, marking him one of their own now.
Poor lad. Jack turned his gaze to the dark night sky, cursing the man who'd brought the disease onboard to begin with. What are we supposed to do?
He sighed heavily, climbing back to where he'd been, in the crow's nest. He stood up tall, watching the deck as the zombies finally moved away from the fallen boy. The form of the crewman lay there, motionless. Jack had learned that the transformation took anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours. The boy would be in agony until the disease claimed him.
The captain's eyes searched the rigging for other surviving men. He caught sight of one, but could not see anyone else in the darkness. The man he watched was shaking so badly that he was able to see it from across the ship. The man slipped as he tried to make his way higher, sliding down the ropes quite a ways before he managed to get a solid hold. The horde below slowly moved towards the lines that led up to him. He watched the man reach for something on his person, though he could not see what it was.
A moment later, a gunshot sounded and Jack let out an involuntary yelp as agony exploded in his right shoulder. He was thrown backwards, out of the crow's nest. He wildly grasped for anything his hands could get ahold of. He found himself lucky, as he soon found himself dangling on the edge of the ratlines. But the horde of zombies had repositioned itself under him, eager snarls rising up from them.
"What are ye doin'?!" Jack snapped through pain, rage, and fear, as he struggled to pull himself back atop the lines he hung from.
"'M sorry, Cap'n, but we can't all make it!" The other man called back.
I'm not ready to die! The pirate captain felt panic rising inside of him. His right arm grew weaker by the second and he knew it wouldn't be long before he lost his grip. He also knew that he couldn't pull himself up with his left arm alone.
With a final burst of strength, he heaved himself upwards. But, unfortunately, that was the moment his shoulder chose to give out. His weight pulling him downward tore in his left hand from the rope almost immediately after. He found himself falling down, down, down. Down to the zombies.
Jack hit the deck hard, the wind knocked from him as soon as he did. The infected were on top of him in an instant, clawing at him harshly. He covered his face with his hands to shield his eyes from getting torn out. His screams of pain felt like they ripped holes in his lungs and throat. He could feel his belly being torn apart, could feel nails scraping at his insides.
Then as quick as they had come after him, the zombies left.
The pirate captain let his hands fall to the deck. He lay there, coughing up the blood that came to his mouth. The deck around him was so red, glistening in the moonlight. Though his body wasn't, he still felt his mind intact.
Jack rolled himself onto his stomach, whimpering at the agony that coursed through his torso at the motion. He gathered his arms beneath him, dragging himself towards his cabin. He didn't want to die alone. He reached his cabin after a long couple of minutes, raising a bloodied fist up. He felt it connect with the window, but he didn't care. He banged on the glass a few times before lowering his arm.
"Who's there?" The voice of Elizabeth- his Elizabeth- reached his ears.
"'S Jack." He coughed weakly, blood splattering on the wooden door. His voice didn't even remotely sound like itself. "Lemme in."
He heard the shifting of furniture as the barricade they survivors had made was moved aside. The door opened and he was greeted with two other wounded. They dragged him in, closing the door behind them. A couple of the others locked it and replaced the barricade. He was pulled halfway into the room before he was laid on his back, the others moving to give him space.
"Oh, Jack." Elizabeth murmured, coming to his side and clasping one of his bloodied hands tightly in her own. He was relieved to find her unscathed.
The pirate captain took a moment to regain some semblance of his bearings before he lifted his head to inspect the group of those still alive. There was a small group of uninfected, but the majority were like him. Wounded and still sane. A few were able to move about, the rest lay there suffering.
"Nice little fort ye lot got in 'ere." He managed.
"Orders, Cap'n?" Gibbs was among the group that wasn't yet wounded.
"Ye need to blow up the ship." Jack mumbled, tensing as another fit of pain came over him. "Make sure she doesn't get to port. Can't risk spreadin' it."
"But, Jack, the Pearl…"
"It has to be done."
"We need a plan." One man pointed out. "We can't jus' stroll out there."
"They don't mind the infected." Someone else said. "Maybe the wounded can guard the healthy an' get them to the boats. Then the wounded can set off the gunpowder in the hold."
"That could work." Jack approved quietly. "Do it."
"But we'd have to leave you and the rest of the crew." Elizabeth disagreed. "No way, Jack."
He struggled to prop himself up with his elbows. "Ye 'ave to. It won't be long before we're like the rest o' 'em out there. We 'ave to die to keep it from spreadin'. It's the only way."
"Cap'n's right." Gibbs agreed solemnly.
"Let's do this. The sooner the better." The man who'd come up with the plan declared. "If ye are wounded an' can walk, get up an' form a line. We leave first. Then the healthy."
He waited for the wounded who were able to get up to do as he said. The healthy lined up behind them, Elizabeth being torn away from Jack's side by Gibbs.
Tears were streaming down her face. "I love you, Jack."
"I know, love." He managed a small smile from where he lay. "Good luck."
The barricade was moved aside.
"For the crew!"
The door burst open and the survivors left the cabin. Jack and the others who couldn't move watched them go one last time.
The snarls of the zombies trying to get to the sane humans came to them. They could hear the gunshots and battle cries of the wounded as they defended the others.
Not long later, the splash of a longboat hitting water reached their ears.
"Shove off! Shove off!"
"Get out of 'ere!"
He could hear footsteps hurrying below deck, towards the hold, as oars churned through the calm night waters.
"She's gonna blow!" Someone below sounded.
Jack felt one last pang of pride rise in his chest. His crew never ceased to amaze him, even in the worst of situations. It was fitting they should make him proud one last time. Good job, men. You've done well.
And then his world exploded in darkness.