Arthur slowly regained consciousness, coughing violently into sand. Thank god he had reached land, and somehow he was still alive.

"Hello, Arthur."

He looked up, shielding his eyes from the searing sun. Grace stood over him, wearing that same white dress and her hair flowing loosely in the breeze.

"Grace..." he wheezed, "What... what are you doing here?"

"I'm not."

"But you're there, I can see you."

"I'm not here. You're hallucinating, Arthur. Come on, you have to get up. You have to walk."

"Where the hell are we?"

"Certainly not Tahiti," she smiled slightly, "Come along."

He slowly stood up, staggering towards her. The sand burned at his bare feet. His whole body was sore and every movement was agony. She offered her hand and he took it. How can he be hallucinating if he can feel her? They walked in silence for a few minutes, before he collapsed to his knees. He was so weak, he just wanted to lie down.

"Arthur, you can't stop."

"But... just a moment..."

"No. Get up. It's not much further."

The urgency of her voice forced himself to stand again. She linked her arm through his, letting him lean against her for support. Everything was strange; the smells, the sounds, even the feeling of the sun beating down on him. But her presence was comforting, even if she was just a supposed hallucination.

"This way," she led him into the trees, the cool ground soothing his sore feet. "Here," she gestured to a small pond. He fell to his knees beside it and eagerly drank the water. It tasted strange, but it was a relief to his parched throat. His stomach growled and he looked around for something to eat. He spotted a bush with what looked like berries and he started to crawl towards it.

"Not that," Grace stopped him, "Come along, it's not far."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can," she said sternly, "You can do this, Arthur."

He gave himself a moment to catch his breath then slowly stood. He followed Grace through the dense forest, stumbling occasionally. She held out her hand to him again and he eagerly grasped it tightly. They continued through the forest until they reached an abandoned, deteriorated shack.

Arthur let go of her hand and opened the door to the shack. It was empty except for a chest just inside the door. He opened it to find a few old, rusted repeaters and some tins of food. He eagerly pried open one of the tins, not caring what it was, and devoured its contents. The one he chose happened to be kidney beans which tasted slightly odd but appeased his empty stomach. He sat against the wall to rest.

What a mess this all turned out to be. He didn't even know where he was. What was he going to do now? How was he going to get back? He covered his face with his hands, still feeling exhausted and dejected.

He felt Grace sit next to him and he looked over at her. Even in the dimness of the shack, she almost seemed to be emitting light. She placed her hand on his shoulder and he felt a calming warmth rush through his body.

"It'll be okay, Arthur," she said quietly, "But we have to keep going."

He nodded and they stood, heading back out into the forest. After following Grace for what felt like hours, she finally stopped at the top of a hill.

"Down there," she pointed. He looked to see a some ruined buildings with a few people milling about.

"You sure?"

"Yes," she moved closer and kissed him on the cheek, "You'll be okay now." She turned and started to walk away.

"Wait, ain't you staying?"

"No, I have to leave now," she smiled at him and walked back into the trees.

Arthur looked down at the people, wondering who they were, then turned back to Grace but she had disappeared. He shook his head. Maybe she really was an hallucination. But he could touch her, and feel her touch in return. He slowly made his way down the hill to the ruins, slipping a little as he did so. As he got closer, he heard familiar voices.

"We gotta get to that cave, get Javier out of there."

"What about those other fellers that Hercule mentioned?"

"I'll go to the cave, you find see if you can find those workers."

"Why me?"

"Because, Bill, there ain't no one else to do it."

"Dutch," Arthur called out hoarsely, "Boys..."

"You hear that?"

Arthur stumbled through the trees until he saw Dutch, looking none the worse for wear.

"D- Dutch," he called out again.

"Arthur!" Dutch spotted him and ran over, followed by Bill and Micah, "Arthur, it is a goddamn miracle!" He embraced Arthur then turned to Bill and Micah. "Go get him some water, and some food!"

Dutch led Arthur into the ruins and sat him down on a cot as Bill handed over a canteen of water which Arthur drank. Micah handed him an opened tin of beans.

"Son, it is so good to see you," Dutch sat next to Arthur, "How did you get here?"

"I... I ended up on shore, walked through the forest." Arthur left out his hallucination of Grace. "Where the hell are we? Where's Javier?"

"We're on Guarma, some island east of Cuba. Javier's been shot and arrested by the local militia," said Micah, "We was almost arrested too, but some rebels helped us escape."

"But we have a way out," Dutch said, "The rebel leader is a man named Hercule and he promised us passage out of here if we helped him. There are some workers who've been kidnapped and I think you and Bill should try to find them."

"I need to get some rest," Arthur coughed, his whole body was screaming with exhaustion and pain.

"Of course," Dutch stood up, "Of course, you... you rest. I'm going to see if I can find this cave to get to Javier. He's at a compound owned by Alberto Fussar who seems to rule this godforsaken place with an iron fist."

Arthur nodded then lay down and immediately fell asleep.


He awoke sometime early the following morning to find Dutch already gone to look for the cave, Bill had gone ahead to try to locate the workers, and Micah standing guard.

"I'm going to have a look around," Arthur said, picking up a rifle and heading towards the trees, "See if I can find Bill and those workers."

"Don't get lost, Morgan," said Micah, "We ain't wasting time looking for you."

Arthur brushed him off and walked along the narrow path through the trees. It was dense and humid yet cool at the same time from the shade. He could hear insects and birds he had never heard before. It smelled different. He wasn't sure yet if he liked it. He continued on until he reached a clearing and found himself on a small cliff overlooking a waterfall. Colourful birds were sitting on the cliff but flew away as he approached. He watched them fly down along the small river, passing a figure in white.

He took out his binoculars to get a closer look. After a moment he lowered them, rubbed his eyes, then looked again.

"What the -," he said to himself. He put his binoculars away and quickly made his way through the trees down to the lower part of the river.

Grace was sitting on a rock, barefoot and wearing the same white dress he had seen earlier. A blue macaw was perched on her raised hand while she was humming to it. It flew away as Arthur got closer.

"Hello, Arthur, feeling better?" she turned to him, smiling.

"How in the hell did you get here? I thought you were an hallucination."

"I am, in a way."

"So why can I still see you?" He poked her in the arm as if to be sure she was actually there, "And touch you?"

"Because you want to."

"Maybe I don't want to."

"If you didn't, I wouldn't be here."

"So just because I want to see you, you just magically show up?"

"Seems to be the case."

"That's impossible."

"And yet, here I am."

"Can anyone else see you?" he looked around, suddenly worried for her safety.

"No," she replied. "I am just an image of Grace that you want to see."

"So you're a ghost?"

"No."

"I don't understand."

"You've been through a lot these past few days. I am here because you need me."

"What, you gonna get us all off this damn island?"

"No. I'm here because you need something to give you hope, to give you something to live for."

"But... why you?" Arthur asked, "You lied to me."

"I didn't lie to you," she stood up, "You assumed as much."

"But, all that, what you said, it's impossible."

"Yes, it should be, shouldn't it?" She hopped down from the rock. "But if it is, then how am I here?"

"But you're not here, you just said," he frowned, "You're not making any sense."

"I am making perfect sense. You just don't want to believe it."

"So you're saying that I should believe everything you've said? All that nonsense about not staying dead? Because I saw you get shot and die!"

"Did you, though?"

"Of course I did! I was there! I saw it!"

"You saw me get shot. You didn't see me die."

"You weren't moving!"

"But not dead."

"But-"

"Arthur, I can't make you believe me, but the longer you take, the longer it will take for me."

Arthur frowned, trying to make sense of it all. If Grace was still alive, back in America, does that mean Hosea might be too? But there was so much blood after they were shot. He thought back to each time he'd seen her looking very sick. After saving John and Jack in the river, she never resurfaced from what he saw. When Bronte had given Jack back, well, he never saw her there, didn't even know she had been there until Jack said so. And when she was shot by the O'Driscolls, well, he wasn't there for that either. She was lying so still in that grass until he touched her and it was like she was waking up from a terrible nightmare.

But that didn't mean anything. She could have very well just swam to shore further up the river. She could have simply been dismissed from the Bronte mansion, and she didn't necessarily die from being shot by her own arrows. She may have died if he hadn't found her in time, but that didn't mean she had already been dead. That was ridiculous.

It didn't make sense. She wasn't making any sense. He looked over at Grace who was watching him patiently.

"I can't make you believe me, but perhaps one day you will. Now, you have more important things to do. Be careful." She kissed him on the cheek and he felt that wave of warmth and calmness wash over him again. When he blinked, she was gone.

What the hell was that about? It still didn't make any sense. But maybe, just maybe, it might be probable that Grace might actually not be able to permanently die. But he couldn't understand how that was even possible. He would have to ask her when he got back.

If he got back. And if she would still talk to him. If she was even still alive. This could still be just one big hallucination. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he'd wake up to find himself back in his own bed at camp and everything would be back to normal.

Until then, he had to get out of this damn place so now he had some poor workers to locate.


His memory was a blur after parting with Grace (or his hallucination). He remembered coming across a hanged man, and then everything went black. Arthur now found himself tied to a chair and being beaten by a man yelling in Spanish. He wasn't given a chance to reply as he was repeatedly punched in the face and the stomach.

"Who are you? Who are you? Who are you?" the man demanded in English, speaking rapidly and not allowing Arthur a moment to reply, "Where you from?" He punched him with every question. "Where you from? Where you from?" Arthur felt his ribs crack with a well-placed punch.

"I'm... I'm an American," Arthur sputtered and gasped for air, "my name is Leviticus Cornwall." The captor narrowed his eyes then turned his attention to another man tied to a chair who Arthur recognised as Leon. They spoke in Spanish before the captor started beating Leon.

Arthur tried to catch his breath when he heard her voice like she was right beside him.

"You can get out, Arthur."

He looked around but didn't see her.

"Get out now!"

He gathered his strength and struggled against the ropes that held him down. The captor was distracted by a third prisoner and he rocked the chair until it fell over and broke, freeing him. The captor whirled around, took out a knife, but Arthur managed to tackle and beat him unconscious.

"You okay?" he asked the third prisoner, a one-armed man named Baptiste, as he released him.

"Shh," said Leon, "I think I hear voices coming from the other ruins down there."

"Maybe there's still time to get to the other workers," said Baptiste.

"Let's sneak down and take a look," Leon nodded at Arthur in thanks as he was untied from the chair. Leon turned to Baptiste, "You should rest here." Baptiste nodded, relieved he'll be able to recuperate.

"You'll need this," Baptiste took a rifle from their captor and handed it to Arthur.

Arthur followed Leon quietly through the complex, carefully avoiding the guards, to the back where the other three workers were being strung up and hung.

"Save them, quickly!"

Arthur crept behind the hangman and knifed him in the neck before using the rifle to shoot the ropes of the hanging workers. Before they could untie their hands and feet, the other guards had heard the gunshots and ran to investigate.

Leon took the gun from the dead hangman and helped Arthur shoot the remaining guards. While Arthur caught his breath and tried not to cough too much, Leon released the workers. Baptiste arrived, still moving gingerly, but forcing his way through it.

"Thank you, we owe you our lives," he said to Arthur.

"My pleasure," Arthur coughed.

"Hercule is getting a boat line up to get you and your men out of here," said Baptiste as he checked the newly freed men, "Just meet him at Cinco Torres."

"We'll be there," Arthur nodded. Finally. All they had to do now was get Javier and they can leave this damn place.

"Here, this is for you," Baptiste handed Arthur some money, "It's not much, but it's the least we can do."

Arthur took it, sighed, and handed it back, "Thanks, but use it to get these poor bastards out of here."

"If you are sure," Baptiste pocketed the money again, "Good luck getting home."

Arthur nodded and started to make his way back to the church ruins, wondering where Bill had gotten to.

"Are you okay?"

He started at her voice, looking around but didn't see her.

"Why can't I see you?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know. Are you okay?"

"Yes," he lied, not wanting to let on that his ribs hurt like hell.

"Keep going straight through the trees. Mind the snakes."

Arthur returned to their makeshift camp, discovering Bill had gone the wrong way and never found the lost workers, but still managed to get himself back. What a day. He couldn't relax for too long since he still had to meet Dutch over at the hidden cave. He tried to ignore the pain in his ribs but every breath stung.

He made his way across the waterfall, pausing long enough to see if she was still down the river, but she wasn't. He tried not to feel too disappointed. He still didn't know what to make of it, but her presence, real or otherwise, was comforting.

Dutch was waiting for him, holding a lit torch. He lit another one as Arthur approached.

"Hey, so what's the plan?" Arthur asked, taking the second torch.

"Well, I found the cave Hercule spoke of and also a, uh, guide," Dutch gestured to a narrow ledge along the cliffs, "She's up ahead, I think we can trust her." He led the way, slowly shimmying along the ledge.

"So what we gonna do after we get Javier?"

"We're going to get off this blasted island, and go back to where we just came from. We get everyone together and get back on track."

"What, you mean you wanna go back to Saint Denis?"

"It's what they won't expect us to do."

"Whatever you say," Arthur said as they reached the mouth of the cave, "We're a bunch of penniless fugitives on some Caribbean dump sneaking through caves while two of our best men got shot back home. How could I doubt you, Dutch?"

"You got no idea, Arthur," Dutch's eyes flickered slightly, "I will do whatever it takes for us to survive. Now hold on." Dutch took a couple steps into the cave before calling out. "Gloria!"

A few moments later, an old lady shuffled into view from within the cave, speaking in Spanish.

"Buenas noches," said Dutch.

"Buenas noches," Gloria approached, holding her hand out, "Dinero, the money, the gold."

"Aquí," Dutch held out a bar of gold which Gloria took and gave a good sniff. "Oh, it's genuine, you old hag."

She seemed satisfied and gestured for them to follow. Dutch turned to Arthur.

"That bit of gold there is the last I got from the bank robbery. The rest of it-"

"-is at the bottom of the sea," Arthur sighed, and followed them through the cave. "So what happened with John in that bank?"

"He survived, unlike dear Hosea and Lenny. The only one they took alive. Why is that you think?"

"I don't know. I was already on the roof, I didn't see it."

"And Abigail, I presume she was able to slip away in time," Dutch said with a hint of suspicion.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, when I look back at all the chaos of the past few weeks, the apparent superficial chaos, I begin to wonder that maybe, for somebody, this is all going exactly to plan."

"I still ain't sure what you're saying, Dutch."

Gloria hushed them, speaking in Spanish, and they arrived at a sunlit cavern blocked by a large yett. "The door is stuck, you'll have to lift it."

Dutch and Arthur lifted the gate and Gloria hurried through, muttering something in Spanish. She stopped at a ladder, pointed up, and turned to Dutch.

"Up this way?" he asked.

"Stop him." Arthur flinched slightly, but knew she wasn't there.

"Sí, then you pay more," Gloria held out her hand. "More."

"Okay." Dutch took a step towards her and she pulled out a knife.

"Stop him!"

"Pay more! Pay more now!" Gloria insisted.

Dutch slapped the knife out of her hand then grabbed her by the throat, slamming her against the ladder.

"Dutch, what are you doing?" Arthur watched in horror as Dutch strangled the old woman.

"Horrible old crone," Dutch said, turning to Arthur.

"But you killed her."

"She was going to betray us, Arthur, couldn't you tell?"

"She wasn't."

"No," Arthur replied, trying not to react to her voice again, "You keep killing folk, Dutch."

"I am just trying to make sure that some of us survive, Arthur."

"By killing those who don't need killing?"

They made their way up the ladder to a ruined part of Fussar's compound.

"So how did you know she was going to betray us? What she say?" Arthur asked quietly as they peered around a doorway to get their bearings.

"It was in her eyes and the way she was leading us," Dutch replied.

"But you said you knew Spanish."

"I know human beings, Arthur."

"He doesn't."

Arthur scoffed under his breath. "You gonna strangle me next?"

"I am doing the best I can," said Dutch before they heard laughter. They looked around the doorway to see a group of guards approaching. Javier was being dragged by his leg behind a donkey as Fussar himself was taunting him. They stopped a little way past them and Fussar departed, leaving the guards to continue drinking and kicking Javier.

Arthur and Dutch snuck around, creeping behind buildings, and taking out a few guards along the way. They took out two more guards in the sugar processing plant before Dutch said they needed a diversion.

"Gonna strangle another old lady?" Arthur asked sarcastically.

"That's enough," Dutch looked around the plant. "We're going to cause an explosion. We got lots of sugar and a furnace. Help me out here."

Arthur nodded and began slashing sacks of sugar and closing the window shutters. Dutch emptied the sugar sacks around the plant as Arthur opened the valve to the furnace. He started coughing as it became more dusty.

"Wait for me outside, I'll get this started," Dutch picked up some brittle dried leaves and papers and a lantern. Arthur went outside, relieved to get out of all that dust. Dutch joined him a few moments later and they crept away from the building. They hid behind a large well closer to where the guards had Javier caged up.

The explosion distracted the guards away from Javier allowing Dutch and Arthur to run to him. As Dutch reached Javier, more guards arrived.

"Arthur, you cover us!" Dutch yelled as he carried Javier, who had now passed out, through the compound. Arthur shot the guards as they arrived then followed Dutch. They reached the sugar cane fields and he heard her again.

"Careful, on your left!"

He looked to see a few guards running from the left and he quickly took them out.

"Let's get to the river! We can hold them off from there!" Dutch shouted as he ran ahead. They crossed the river and Dutch told Arthur to hold the remaining guards off. There were so many of them, but he managed to kill them all. He hadn't been sure if he had enough ammunition.

Once it was clear, he took a moment to catch his breath. He looked around for Grace, hoping to see her.

"Are you there?" he asked quietly. There was no reply and he felt his heart sink a little.

Despite everything, he missed her terribly. He recalled reading something some time ago, something about how you don't know what you have until it's gone. Well, whatever the saying was, he couldn't worry about it now. He had to put it out of his head and focus on getting out of here.


They met Hercule at Cinco Torres, intending to board the boat he had promised, but he informed them that Fussar now knows who they are and had called in the Cuban navy. Dutch tried to protest, but Hercule told him that no boat would be able to leave until they had dispatched of the soldiers.

Fussar had called in a warship, a whole goddamn warship for a bunch of ragtag rebels, but thanks to a heavy cannon Hercule and his rebels had on the roof of the old fort, they managed to sink it. Finally they were able to make their way to the dock to meet the boat Hercule had promised.

But when they arrived, Micah informed them that Fussar had the boat's captain kidnapped and guards and guns positioned so if they tried to sail away, the boat would be sunk.

"This fella is really beginning to try my patience," Dutch said, annoyed.

"And he ain't even had you tortured yet," said Arthur.

"I like the man's style," Micah added, "he's thorough, nasty, and vindictive. However, in this instance, I don't see we got any alternative but we go and free our friendly captain and destroy the artillery." He pulled out some dynamite sticks from the saddlebags he was carrying.

"For once, I agree with you," Arthur took one of the dynamite bundles .

Hercule agreed to go along while Bill and Javier stayed behind to guard the boat. The rest hurried up to the first artillery post. Micah and Arthur took out the guards and planted the dynamite on the cannons.

The ensuing explosion drew out the guards as they shot their way to the next artillery post. Micah planted dynamite on the next few cannons while the others held off the guards.

They made their way to the workers' compound where even more guards were waiting for them. As they shot them down, Arthur hoped this poor bastard captain was still alive. Micah pointed out the cabin the captain was being held in, and when it was clear Arthur went in.

He saw the captain laying on his side, moving slightly. But when Arthur moved towards him, Fussar's right-hand man, Levi Simon, tackled him from behind, knocking him to the floor.

"I got you now, you bastard," he aimed his pistol at Arthur.

"Oh, we are all bastards, my friend," Dutch entered and aimed his gun at Levi, "but only one of us is some would be emperor's whore."

Arthur slowly stood up as Alberto Fussar himself came in through the back door and aimed his gun at Dutch who aimed a second gun at Fussar. Arthur aimed his pistol at Fussar as well, looking between him, Dutch, and Levi, wondering who was going to make the first move.

"Arm the captain."

Arthur wasn't startled by her voice this time, but now noticed the captain on the floor had slowly sat up without Levi and Fussar noticing. Arthur kicked the rifle he had dropped earlier to the captain who quickly shot Levi Simon, killing him. Unfortunately the distraction allowed Fussar to escape.

"I suppose you men are my cargo," the captain groaned as he stood.

"Dutch van der Linde, I am sorry you got hurt."

"Captain Sa-"

"Let's go," Dutch interrupted the captain and led the way out.

"Tch. Rude." Despite the dire situation they were in, Arthur couldn't help but crack a smile.

They were met by more guards and had to shoot their way through to return to the boat. Hercule spotted Fussar up a tower, loading a large cannon.

"We have to take him down!" Hercule yelled to Arthur as they pushed up, "There's another cannon to our left, can you get to that?"

"I can try!" Arthur dodged between the ruins to reach the cannon. He aimed it a the top of the tower and fired it, destroying the tower and Fussar inside. He breathed a sigh of relief and rejoined the others at the boat.

They bid Hercule goodbye and were finally on their way. They were going back to the United States, back to where they are all wanted men.

"The last thing they'll be thinking is for us to turn up," Dutch tried to reassure them.

"We been on the run for a while now," Arthur said, "and it feels like our luck has turned, you know? And it ain't turnin' back. We had a good run of it, I guess."

"Don't give up. Not yet." Her voice now sounded so distant and faint.

"We ain't even played our hand yet! We just need to put some more money in our pockets, make our escape."

Arthur sighed, tuning out Dutch. He wished Trelawny had never looked into Grace's past. They could have all been free by now. Hosea and Lenny would be alive. And Grace...

He hoped she was indeed alive, impossible as it seemed. He thought of her appearances on the island often, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for them. Maybe it was all just in his imagination, something to keep him going, like she had said. Or what he had imagined she said.

Either way, he needed to find out for sure, but whether he would find her alive or find her in a grave was left to be seen.