Chapter 11: Weigh Anchor!

The crew of the Black Pearl was not happy with Captain Jack Sparrow. "So, there's no such thing as a hidden treasury full of gold, and the treasure chest you did bring back has no key?"

"Key?" echoed Jack. "We need no key. We have within our number, a trained blacksmith. Will Turner, show these louts how a trained blacksmith can use his well honed skills to open a treasure chest when there is no key available."

Will shrugged. He took a step forward, looked down at the chest, snatched a musket from a nearby pirate, aimed and fired. Shards of hot metal and molten lead splattered into the crowd, and several crew members danced away, howling.

One of the men examined the lock. "Didn't work."

Will traded his unloaded musket for a loaded one. As he took aim for the second time, the undead monkey came scurrying up and sniffed at the lock. Will fired and the monkey shriek, spun, and fled for his life, or for his death, or whatever it is that undead monkeys flee for when they run away really fast.

Again Will traded muskets. Again he aimed. Again he fired. The lock shattered.

"Ya har!" screamed the men with joy as they leaped forward and threw open the chest to reveal, "Rocks?"

"Ore shot through with gold," shrugged Jack, "and silver."

The men examined the rocks. "No gold here. No silver."

"Ah, of course! It's diamonds. Before they're cut and polished, raw diamonds look like nothing."

The men passed the rocks back and forth, examining them. "No diamonds here, nor jewels of any sort. These are just a bunch of rocks, pretty ones to be sure, but just rocks. You have stolen someone's rock collection."

Elizabeth blurted out, "We have a treasure map!"

"Arg!" growled the men happily as they snatched the scroll from her. They examined it closely. "Aye, it's a treasure map all right. Look there, a big 'X' with 'Dig here' written right next to it. You can't get much more treasure-mappish than that!"

"Hey! So where is this island? There's no name here, no map references. How are we to find it?"

Will Turner shrugged. "We're still working on that part."

The men glared.

"No we're not," said Jack.

"Yes we are, Captain. We need to figure out how to find the island."

"I know how to find the island, mate."

Will asked incredulously, "And how do we do that?"

Captain Jack Sparrow held up his compass that pointed to his heart's desire. He waited upon the needle stopped spinning. Thankfully, it didn't point back towards Suzanne. It pointed out to sea. Jack pointed in the same direction. "We sail that way, mates," he said. "Weigh anchor!"

Suzanne de Xanillèe was captain of the Vengeful Vixen, or at least she had been for the past seven and a half minutes. She'd traded a goodly portion of her gems for this ship. What was she thinking? This was crazy! How had this happened?

She'd told Père Nuit about Captain Jack Sparrow now having her father's treasure map. The bokor had described the map to her in great detail. What great magical power did he have which allowed him to see it so well? It was no magical power at all. He was the one who had drawn the map. Did he know where the mysterious island was? Yes, he'd grown up there. Did he think that Captain Jack Sparrow could find the island? Of course, he was Captain Jack Sparrow, was he not? Indeed, he was probably already on his way there.

Suzanne had asked Père Nuit if he knew anything about revenge. The bokor had shrugged in bony shoulders and said 'Oui, a little.' He had instructed her to purchase a ship, and he'd promised that he'd provide a crew. A crew? It was the middle of the night! The only seamen who'd still be up at this hour would be falling down drunk. What good would they be?

On the other hand, she'd gotten a fantastic bargain price of the ship. The previous owner had figured that, if he'd set sail, the Black Pearl would swoop down on his ship, and he'd lose everything. So the handful of bobbles that Suzanne had offered was a godsend. He'd jumped at her offer.

And so here she was, pacing the deck of her new ship and waiting for a hoard of drunken seamen to come weaving their way towards her. What had she been thinking?

"Little one, ahoy!" shouted the voice of Père Nuit.

She looked over the side and here they came, her crew. But they weren't stumbling and weaving as she had predicted. They were more shambling. She took a closer look. Ragged clothes and rotting flesh! No words, only groaning and grunting. The stench of the dead filtered up to her nose. Père Nuit had brought her a crew of zombies!

They lurched up the gangplank and came on board.

Père Nuit snapped a sloppy salute. "Permission to come aboard, Captain?" he said happily.

"Zombies? You brought me zombies?"

He shrugged. "I'm a bokor. What were you expecting, the Ladies' Tea and Charitable Works Society?"

"But zombies?"

"Each and every one of these men has had a lifetime at sea, and more! They will serve you well, and you need not worry about them stealing food or being drunk on duty. You'll find no better crew anywhere, I promise you. So if you really want your revenge upon Captain Jack Sparrow, I suggest you order them to weigh anchor."

There was a long pause, and then Suzanne de Xanillèe, Captain of the Vengeful Vixen, threw her head back and bellowed, "Weigh anchor!"