Revealed

AuthorÕs Note: Thanks to all those for the kind reviews. IÕm so glad you enjoy the story and whatÕs more took time to post a note! This chapter is a bit of an oddity for me, I donÕt EVER write long scenes with introspection, but with Jack being alone I was limited with what I could do. I hope the bit of action makes up for in what otherwise might be a very dull scene.

    The never-ending sun beat down on Jack Sparrow. Sweat beaded his forehead and stuck to the back of his neck. He dragged his forearm across his brow.

    Once again whole, with her onyx wood gleaming, the Black Pearl sat in a sea; of sand.

    Bloody, buggering desert and rocks in every direction. He glared at the constant landscape, not like the sea. She changed all the time. In the heat of the day, she kept her colors bright blue. Under the moon, she turned dark and iridescent. Mystery surrounded her. And when the fury of a storm took her temperament she became a violent gray-green.

    When had he last seen the Caribbean. Time had no meaning. He couldnÕt tell how long he'd been inside the Locker.

    He wandered below the bow and stared up at his proud beauty. The bare-breasted figurehead kept her sights to the illusive horizon. Seemed she too longed for the freedom of the sea.

    The naked blonde brought to mind memories of another golden haired jade. Bloody Elizabeth Swan.

    His jaw tightened. He'd made up his mind to defend the Pearl. She needn't have shackled him to the mast.

    Pirate. He smiled, but the humor quickly faded to a bitter laugh. Even in death the plucky governor's daughter haunted him. "Never bloody trust a woman, especially that one," he grumbled.

    "Present company excluded." He patted the Pearl's hull. "Ye've always remained true." No one he'd met in his respectable days had honesty, and most certainly no pirate. The difference  were, a pirate didnÕt pretend to be a paradigm of virtue.

    He wrapped the thick mooring line around his hands. The tough rope felt comfortable in his hands. 'Course Lizzie had felt much more better. Warm spread through his veins.

    She'd done what she thought necessary. That he could forgive. But making him care, kissing him and then acting as if he meant nothing. That, he couldn't forget or forgive. Ever.

    The pleasant warmth fired and searched his insides like a hot poker. "Bloody wench."

    As there was nothing else to do, he pulled. A burn worked it way from his forearms up to his shoulders. Muscles screamed against the strain. Still he didn't let up.

    "Heave to," he grunted. The soles of his boots skidded on the loose sand. Pain shot through his legs.

    The Black Pearl remain as still as a dead calm.

    Finally, he released the line. Breathing hard, he shook out his aching fingers. "Fuck." He kicked the closest rock.

    The gray stone tumbled across the ground, and then sprout eight legs.

    He blinked. When he opened his eyes the moving rock, now with snapping claws, charged. "That's interesting." He drew his sword. "I'm already in a bit of a pinch." He prodded the critter back, but the crab wouldn't give up.

    "Well, if yer gonna be that way, mate." Jack knocked his mini attacker over a high dune. "I think I liked better when I were alone."  

    He flopped down in the sand. Thus far, he hadnÕt found a path out of The Locker. HeÕd explored every direction, and each held the same. Buggering, endless sand.

    Dryness coated his tongue and throat. Whether it was The Locker or the desert, the air had no smell. No brine to tickle his nose or chaff his skin.

    With a sigh he flipped open his compass. The bloody needle always spun in a non-stop circle. The contraption had finally function when the Kracken attacked The Black Pearl, but sense then nothing. Round and round the tiny arm turned.

    He lowered the lid halfway shut, when he noticed the pointer's progress slow. With a flick, he popped the top up once more. Excitement rolled him stomach. That were more like it. ÔBout bloody time thing started working.

    The needle pointed to the high dune off the Pearl's bow.

    He frowned. Several times he'd scaled the slippery hill and found nothing but the same on the other side. Still, he had nothing else to occupy himself.

    "Ye better be right." He let the device fall against his leg along with his many other trinkets. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet.

    Lose sand made the trek up the slope slow going. He lost count how many times his boots slipped. The shifting ground also played merry hell with his legs. His muscles constantly twisted and in their fight to remain upright.

    At the top, he took a minute and caught his breath. Death had sucked the life out of him. He chuckled at his bad pun. "Probably supposed to do that." He shielded his vision with a hand as he squinted into the distance.

    Waves of sand moved back and forth. "Bugger," he sighed.  He turned to trudge back down, when in the distance a long line, low the ground approached. He hadnÕt noticed any cliffs so doubt them a pack of wild lemmings.

    A few minutes later, he made out the forms as thousands of stone crabs. Their nails clicked as they moved, like a thousand maracas at once.

    "Now were being followed by rocks." He cocked his head. "Never had that before."

    The creatures approached his ship. "Wait!" he shouted. "No! Stop." He waved his arms and jumped up and down. "No, no!"

    The crustaceans ignored him. 

    "Bugger, bugger, bugger." He tumbled down the hill and shot towards the Pearl.

    Like an army of ants, the crabs surrounded the Black Pearl's hull and hoisted her upon their backs.

    "Oiy! That's me ship." A half a dozen stony critters blocked his advance. "Ye can't just pinch her from me." He stared into their itty black eyes.

    The crab company carried the pirate vessel up the same dune he had recently climbed.

    Panic beat against his chest. His ship was being commandeered by a lot of crabs. He glanced at his mini sentries and then at his beloved Black Pearl.

    No choice.

    Jack tore off in pursuit of the Black Pearl. "Come back with me ship!" he shouted.

    The Pearl continued moving away.

    "Just like a woman, I'm always chasin' her."

    With every second, the vessel grew smaller.

    The gleaming windows of his cabin and the sturdy rudder disappeared over the crest.

    He scrambled up the ridge panting, and came to a dead stop. The endless sand faded into the brightest azure water. If not for the fact he had no rum, he'd swear he were three sheets.

    A blessed wind blew and fanned his hot skin. The scent of salt clung to her tail. He took a deep breath and pulled in as much air his lungs could hold.

    Whitecaps topped the blue-green waves as they rushed against the sudden shore. The gentle whoosh-whoosh was music to his ears.

    Now he were getting some where.

    He sprinted toward the coast and the Black Pearl as she returned to her rightful place upon the sea. His heart swelled.

    Now to find a way out of The Locker.

He had a score to square with ole' fish face and one Miss Elizabeth Swan.