Chapter VI
Black Sails

Captain Jack Sparrow was up and about early, his daily rum bottle (at least, the morning round) in his hand. He took a swig, swishing it around in his mouth and swallowing. He grinned, his handsome face lighting up as he softly sang, "Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!" Then he took another drink.

Suddenly, something crashed into a bundle of rigging near the prow. Jack turned, grabbing his rum in both hands, ready to protect it. He saw something dart down behind a rail, leaving a trail of wet footprints. Jack checked to make sure his sword and pistol were in place. He then walked forward, setting the rum down and tiptoeing over to the rail. He peeked over, and something slapped him hard in the face. Of course, Jack was used to being slapped, so he quickly recovered, looking up.
Bree scrambled up into the rigging, climbing like a squirrel. She knew this ship. The Black Pearl! And she knew now that this was Jack. She was confused but knew that she had to convince Jack to let her sail on his ship.
Bree got a safe distance away and turned around. Jack was shouting something and had his pistol out. Bree held her hand out, calling, "No! I'm sorry I hit ye, just listen to me for a bit!"
Jack didn't hear her and fired, furious that someone would try to stow away on his ship. The bullet hit Bree in the shoulder, but she didn't even flinch. But now she was angry.
Leaping from the rigging, Bree turned a magnificent somersault and landed lightly on the deck. Jack looked pale. Bree bared her teeth, and of course it surprised Jack that she had fangs.
This girl wasn't normal, that was for sure. Jack dropped his pistol, saying in a somewhat unsteady tone, "That didn't…work."
Bree stuck her claw into the wound in her shoulder and managed to pull the shot out. She tossed it to Jack, "Try again."
Jack backed away as the grisly object rolled towards him, "No thanks, mate, I'm all right. Erm…" He looked at Bree's broadsword, "So…"
Bree was disgusted. Was this really Jack Sparrow? He looked the part but he seemed a bit bumbling! She cut him off, "Now will ye let me talk?"
Jack shut his mouth and gestured for her to continued, pressing his hands together.

Bree nodded and spoke, "Me name's Bree, an' I…" She stopped. Why would anyone in their right mind take on a crewmember of the Flying Dutchman? Bree was an honest person, so she only twisted the truth somewhat, "Er…My captain was cruel, so I jumped ship. I was wonderin' if ye could help me. Stay behind these rocks until noon, and then move out."
Jack was running his tongue over his teeth, grimacing each time he saw the girl's fangs. He also noticed a long scar running down the side of her face. Compassion filled him. She must have had a hard time. But he still knew something wasn't right. She didn't look…human.
Bree began scraping barnacles from her sleeves, snarling up at Jack, "Well? Ye gonna help me?"
Jack cleared his throat, saying, "Erm, Miss Bree, due to circumstances beyond my control, I'm afraid I'm in no place to offer ye any assistance in getting to shore. I can, however," he added hastily after seeing her hand going towards her broadsword, "offer ye a place in the crew of the Black Pearl."
Bree grinned, saying, "That's what I was hopin' ye'd say, mate, er…Cap'n." Then she held out her hand, saying, "I suppose ye're Jack Sparrow?"
Jack smiled, shaking her hand, "Aye, mate. I'll have ye tell me yer tale later. But now I think it'd be best if the crew met their new mate."

Bree was very popular among the crew of the Pearl. Her quick wit, fun personality and good sense of humor won everybody's heart. She was quickly accepted as a full crew member.

Bree changed her plans. She guessed that the Dutchman would sail towards the rocks. Jones would suspect she had gone there. So why not watch for her and sail around the rock, right in front of her, but still hidden? Like a ring-around!

Jack took Bree's advice and slowly maneuvered around the rocks as Bree watched the approach of the other ship. The sun climbed higher and higher, and Bree never left the rigging. She was looking towards the Dutchman, giving a sigh of relief when the phantom ship began moving in the opposite direction. Soon she would be out of sight!

And she was! Bree watched as the Dutchman disappeared over the horizon. Sliding down one of the ropes, Bree called out, "Time to weigh anchor, mates!"

Jack immediately took his position as captain and began to give out orders. He watched Bree as they all worked. She was a hard worker. He had seen Elizabeth Swann, Will's fiancée, and had thought she was a tough girl. But Bree worked harder than the men! She was a true pirate, tougher than nails.

Bree smiled as the Pearl's black sails filled in the wind. They began to sail forward from the rocks, out into the open sea. She looked to Jack, and then, pausing from her work, walked up to him. She clasped his hand in hers, saying gratefully, "Thanks, Cap'n. I owe ye a lot. Where are we headed?"

Jack made a strange gesture with his hand, and then said, "Probably to Tortuga."

Bree's smile faded. But she shrugged and said, "Aye, Cap'n. But where from there?"

Jack again made his odd hand movement, "We'll stay to the coast. We won't go too far out to sea. I don't like the open ocean."

Bree closed her mouth, thinking it impolite to let it hang open like that. Was Jack Sparrow, the infamous captain of the Black Pearl, afraid of the sea? But she didn't speak her thoughts. She simply pressed knuckle to forehead in a salute and moved back to her station.

The Flying Dutchman wasn't simply sailing off. It was in pursuit. In pursuit of Bree.

Jones hadn't been expecting anything like this. The bosun had come to him earlier than usual that morning, skulking around like a frightened rat. When asked about his errand, Jimmylegs simply said, "The girl's missin', Cap'n."

Jones had immediately stormed down to the hold, tearing down Bree's hammock. Empty. The crew searched the entire ship for her, and even looked on the bowsprits for her. No sign of her. Jones foamed and swore, his pale blue eyes fiery with rage. Bree had escaped!

Jones indeed swore vengeance and assured himself that he now hated Bree more than anything. But he was terrified. Part of him was hurt. Terribly hurt. Bree was gone.

Jones turned to see the rocks, his eyes narrowing. He began barking out orders, "Hard to port! Head for the rocks! That's where she went!"

The Flying Dutchman headed out towards the large sea-cliff, with Jones standing at the rail, his keen eyes scanning it for the young girl. No sign of her, all the way around. Fury made the captain almost dizzy, and he rubbed at his eyes, trying to clear them. He growled, cursing Bree with all sorts of terrible oaths.

The Dutchman headed out to open sea, now. Jones now guessed that Bree had escaped on a passing ship. He would find her. And she would pay dearly for hurting his reputation…and for simply hurting him.

The Pearl was sailing along as smooth as glass, and Bree was catching a short rest. Freedom! Ah, sweet freedom! Bree breathed in the fresh air, a soft smile on her face. Little did she know, but Jack was standing close by, assessing her. She was a pretty girl. But something in her eyes made him think of her differently. He could tell right away that she was a fighter, a true terror of the seas.

Jack, with his ever-present bottle of rum, turned to look out over the sea. He was nervous about being out in the open ocean. Ever since the Kraken had dragged him and the Pearl down to the depths, Jones thought Jack was dead. Therefore, the Kraken no longer sought Jack out. How Jack escaped from the depths with the Pearl is a different story, but he had the help of his friends. Jack was safe from the Kraken…for now.

Jack looked at the chains wrapped around Bree. Strange…they didn't look normal. And her mouth…the fangs unnerved him. But surely she wasn't…

Bree opened her eyes, sighing contentedly. Her gaze was fixed on Jack's bottle, "Is that rum, Cap'n?"

Jack smiled, and offered the bottle to her. Bree took it without a word and took a huge gulp, smacking her lips and grinning. Jack laughed, admiring a girl who could stomach rum. Bree finished off the bottle and tossed it back to Jack, saying, "Left ye a drop, Jack."

Bree rose, stretching and preparing to go into the rigging to watch for signs of other ships. She looked back at Jack, who was still watching her. She was curious about him. Soon, she would ask him to tell her his story. Jones had said he was dead! And the Pearl was rotting at the bottom of the ocean. Bree smiled. Well, all the stories she had heard of Jack must be true. If he could escape from Jones' clutches, he could do anything.

Three days. A full three days. Bree had never known such bliss. Three days of freedom! She woke earlier than the others by habit, pleased to not have to wake by the whip.

Bree had been asked several times by more than one crewmember why she had two lengths of chain wrapped around her. She quickly said that they were old keepsakes, knowing this sounded foolish, but it had to do. Her fangs, she said, were simply real fangs from an animal. She had lost her two teeth in battle and replaced them with fangs to be more intimidating. At least it threw them off the scent for a while.

Bree stood at the prow. Jack was beside her, not speaking but surveying the ship. Bree turned to him and spoke, "Cap'n, how did ye escape the Kraken?"

Jack's face fell, "Er…I'd rather not say."

Bree made a little sound of disappointed obedience. She wouldn't press it. She was keeping secrets. Why shouldn't he?

Bree looked up, and then tapped Jack on the shoulder, "Look! A sail!"

Jack pulled out his glass, peering into it. But the sail was too far away to make out clearly. Bree climbed up into the rigging, waiting as the ship drew closer. It was a large three-masted ship. A strange color…didn't look normal. Then her eyes caught sight of two long fang-like bowsprits, made to look like jaws. Her heart stopped.

The Dutchman!

Bree began calling out urgently, "Jack! Time to move!"

Jack, still unable to make out the ghost ship, looked up as Bree slid down. Her eyes were huge and she spoke in an urgent whisper, "It's the Dutchman!"

Jack's blood ran cold when he heard this. He grabbed Bree's shoulders, serious for once in his life, "Are ye sure, luv?"

Bree nodded, looking back towards the ship. Suddenly, her eyes went so huge that Jack thought they would pop out of her head. She collapsed, but Jack supported her, and she turned to him, unspeakable terror in her eyes. She whispered faintly, "Please…we have to go! I'll explain everything later!"

When Bree said this, Jack realized that she knew why the Dutchman was chasing them. He grabbed her arm, looking at her, "I suppose this is yer fault?"

Bree, unable to lie, nodded, shame filling her. Jack's eyes darkened and he stepped back, crossing his arms, "So, what d'ye suggest we do?"

Bree flared up, "Even if ye didn't want to help me, ye'd want to get away from the Dutchman!" She turned again, and then said, "I say we sail towards her. Then, soon after, we maneuver around her and sail in the opposite direction! We'd be with the wind then! An' we can beat 'er!"

Jack didn't like her giving orders, even though he would have done the same thing, "An' what makes ye think that would work? Ye know nothin' of the Dutchman."

Bree snarled, "I know more than ye! I crewed it!"

Jack was taken aback, "Ye…crewed it?"

Bree ripped her sleeve, showing him the brand, "Jones gave me this." She removed her jerkin, revealing her fins poking through the shirt underneath, "Now d'ye know where me fangs came from?"

Jack swallowed, a little uncomfortable. He was faced with a dilemma. He could easily toss Bree overboard to be picked up by the Dutchman. But he had grown to like Bree. Why not help her? If they followed her plan, they had a chance…with a lot of luck.

Of course, Bree had wisely kept her pirate name a secret.

The Pearl had done it! With the wind at her back, she was able to outdistance the Dutchman. And yet Bree had another plan.

"Why not pull her into a river?"

The entire crew stared at Bree as if she was mad. Bree continued to press, "C'mon, we'll get her in on th' tide!"

Jack sighed, "Aye, she's right. It's the best way to hide."

Bree grinned, grateful to Jack. He motioned to her, "Come into my quarters."

Bree sat across from Jack, and he began asking her questions, "How did ye come to be aboard the Dutchman?"

Bree began, fingering the hilt of her sword absently, "I was a pirate aboard the ship Goresail. One day, we ran afoul of some rocks and were tryin' to break loose. A ship suddenly rose above the waves beside us. I'd heard stories o' the Flying Dutchman. I recognized the ship, and knew we were doomed. She rammed us fully onto the rocks, an' there we were boarded. All me crewmates were killed, an' the captain…" Bree shuddered, but continued, "I fought hard, an' they took me aboard the Dutchman. Jones had me locked in th' brig. He then forced me to join the crew. Why, I don't know. I thought that they would kill me. I crewed that ship for almost half a year. I started to become one of 'em, as ye can tell by these." Bree pointed out her fins once more. Jack winced, the sight making his own back hurt.

Bree sighed, flattening her fins and leaning back, saying, "I don't know if I'm actually free yet. The Dutchman is followin' us because o' me. I should leave the ship an' make for land."

"What about those chains, mate?"

Bree looked at the chains around her chest and neck, "They don't come off. They're…"

Jack reached forward and gave the one around her neck a gentle tug. It loosened, and he slipped it easily over her head. Bree's eyes went wide. She quickly removed the one around her chest, letting it drop to the floor, happiness shining from her face, along with relief.

"I don't think Jones has a hold on ye, anymore."

Bree grinned, wicked joy on her features.

Jack looked at Bree, asking, "How much did ye know of Jones before ye were captured?"

"Enough," Bree answered, "I knew the legend that 'is heart was buried on some island. But…I didn't know why."

Jack got straight to the point, "Jones recovered 'is heart, I think. Did ye ever see it? Ye said ye were in his cabin once or twice."

Bree went still, thought for a moment, and then said, "Depends on which heart ye're talkin' bout."

The girl reached into her jerkin and pulled out a pouch. She pulled the music box out. Holding it in the palm of her hand, Bree let all see it.

Jack didn't understand. He looked at Bree, and she explained, "This belongs to Jones."

Jack held his hand out, "Let me see it."

Bree pulled her hand back, "No!"

Jack looked puzzled. But Bree did too. Obviously she didn't understand the possessiveness she felt for the box.

Bree slowly set the box down, but had a hard time taking her hand from it. Jack slowly reached towards it, and Bree let him, but she looked strained. Jack flipped open the top, and went as if to wind it up.

Bree gasped, staying Jack's hand. She said in a half whisper half groan, "No! He'll hear it!"

Jack was bewildered, "He's leagues away, Bree. On another ship! He wouldn't hear it!"

Bree glared at him so fiercely that he knew she wouldn't believe otherwise. He sighed, taking his hand away. He then asked, "Why would he hear it?"

"He's…connected to it," answered Bree. She looked at the box again. "He's always alert. Just like he was when I saw the ship from the sails." She shuddered. "I saw his eyes staring right into mine!"

Jack couldn't understand, "Ye were too far away to make out any individuals! Is yer eyesight that good?"

Bree looked at him, her eyes wide with terror, "No, but his is!"

Jack saw how troubled the girl was. He spoke again, "Why does Jones keep a music box?"

Bree shrugged, "Bootstrap told me it belonged to a girl. A girl Jones fell in love with." Bree shuddered, "The song it plays…Jones plays it all the time on his organ. It's…it's a terrible thing! Makes a body want to cry!"

Bree grabbed Jack's arm, looking at him, her eyes alarmed, "I'm frightened, Jack! I feel…sorry for 'im! I don't want to feel sorry for 'im! But someone who would cut out 'is own heart an' still love someone…"

Jack patted her back, "It's all right, mate. Ye just…"

"Land ho! There's th' river!"

They didn't make it by high tide, so they did the only thing. They had to haul the Pearl into the river.

Jack began giving out orders, "Split into two groups either side o' the river. Mr. Gibbs, get the anchor rope to port an' another one as thick to starboard. Right. All ashore!"

Bree pulled as hard as the others. Ropes creaked and went taut as the Pearl began moving painfully slow. It took hours before she was fully under cover of the trees. Bree threw down her rope and went to the deeper area of the stream, scooping water into her mouth and cooling her head and neck.

Jack waded through to Bree, slapping her on the back and laughing, "We did it, mate! The Pearl's safe!"

Bree grinned, water dripping from her face. Then she said, "I suppose we'll head somewhere on land, then, aye?"

Jack nodded, relieved to be on land, where he was safe from both Jones and the Kraken.

Bree looked eastward, "Where are we?"

"Somewhere near Tortuga, luckily enough for us," Jack answered, surveying his surroundings.

"Tortuga? Well then, let's go there!"

Tortuga was a long trek, but the crew of the Black Pearl reached it soon after nightfall. Bree was tired, her eyelids drooping. They wouldn't find much rest here, though. Tortuga was just as Bree remembered it. Rowdy, loud, violent…and fun.

Bree wasn't at all surprised to see Jack and the others heading for the tavern, the Faithful Bride. Bree was right behind them. Jack, being the kind cap'n he was, bought Bree a drink.

The crew all sat in the corner, the only quiet area in the tavern. Bree leaned back in her chair, taking a long gulp of her ale. She listened as the others told vulgar jokes, looking forward to their evening of fun. Bree had to remind them that she was present.

Bree was enjoying watching a typical bar brawl when Jack tapped her on the shoulder, "Mate, ye need to come with me."

Bree nodded, rising. Jack led her to a back room, shutting the door. Bree looked up. A young man was sitting at a table. Bree looked to Jack, and he motioned toward the young man.

"You look…familiar."

The young man stepped forward, saying politely, "My name is Will Turner."

Bree's eyes went wide, "Will Turner! You're Bootstrap's son!"

Will's eyes went as wide as hers as he nodded, "Aye. You know him?"

Bree nodded vigorously, spilling out her tale, "He was my only friend on the Dutchman! The only friend I had in the world. Oh…oh, I wish he was here! He thought ye were dead!"

Will took her by the arm, interrupting her, "But he's alright? Jones hasn't done anything to him?"

Bree nodded, "Aye, he's fine…well, as fine as ye can be aboard that ship. But he's already aboard the devil's ship, mate. Not much more Jones can do to 'im, anyway. But Bootstrap talked about ye! He told me that you crewed the Dutchman too! And ye stole Jones' key!" Bree had a look of admiration now, "Any relative o' Bootstrap is a friend o' mine! I owe 'im a lot."

Jack butted in, "Did, uh…did Jones ever mention me at all?"

Bree nodded again, "Aye. But he thinks ye're dead. I suppose that's what ye want to hear. He told me hisself that the Pearl had been dragged to the depths by 'is beast, the Kraken. An' so I was surprised when I saw a ship with black sails out 'ere. An' even more surprised to see Jack Sparrow aboard!" She grinned, clasping Jack's hand in hers.

"Jones singled ye out a lot, did he?" Jack asked. Bree shrugged, saying, "I suppose he does that with every new crew member. The fact that I was a rebel didn't help much, or the fact that I was the only girl ever to crew, or even set foot on the Flying Dutchman."

"A rebel? You didn't cooperate?" asked Will, obviously impressed that a girl could have so much fire. I don't think even Elizabeth would've been able to stand up to Jones.

Bree nodded, motioning to the fins on her back, "These didn't grow because I was submittin', mate. An' there's no skin on me back, either. That should give ye a good idea how much I disobeyed."

"How long were you with them?" asked Will.

"About four months, mate," answered Bree. She suddenly touched the strange brand on her shoulder, wincing slightly. Her other hand instinctively went to the pouch hidden in her jerkin.

Jack knew what was happening. Jones was sensing her presence. He didn't know where she was, but he knew she was there. They were somehow connected. Perhaps because Bree carried the music box with her at all times.

Will looked a little concerned. He leaned over, asking, "Are you alright?"

Jack nudged Bree, "Show 'im the music box, mate."

A little reluctantly, Bree pulled out the pouch, removing the box. Handing it to Will, she said, "I don't suppose ye saw that aboard the Dutchman, did ye?"

Recognition showed on Will's face as he handled the box. He nodded, saying, "Aye, I saw it. In Jones' cabin. It started playing and…it saved my life, in a way." His hand went to wind it, and this time both Bree and Jack gasped, "No!"

Will, startled, dropped the music box. It clattered onto the deck. The three stood staring at it, frozen.

Suddenly, it began to play. The tinkling notes started, and Bree couldn't have ever imagined a more horrible, terrifying sound. It was like the sound of her own doom. She looked at Jack, her eyes wide and her own terror was reflected in his, and then she looked at Will, who was confused but just as frightened.

"He heard it…" was all Bree said.