Chapter 1: Escape

Chapter 1: Escape

- Chapter One -

Escape

Just off the coast of a small Caribbean Island, a magnificent ship named the Black Pearl sat on the calm black ocean, water gently lapping at its vast wooden underbelly. The sun was low in the sky, setting slowly, as the sky changed from its ordinary blue colour to magnificent blends of blues, reds and yellows. Aboard, the deck was quiet and still, with boxes and barrels piled high around the main mast, knotted rope hanging from the rigging and discarded rum bottles, empty and smashed with shards of sticky glass scattered over the floor, glistening in the sun’s glow. The black tattered sails of the ship were limp and lifeless, hanging from the great wooden beams that held them high. The crew had retreated to their hammocks somewhere in the ship, laughing, playing cards, or dreaming about beautiful women and treasure. The crew were a handful or bloodthirsty pirates, all of them men. It was not surprising. Most pirates believed it bad luck to have a woman on board as a crew mate, no matter how attractive or rich.
One man sat on his hammock, slouched. He was tall and thin, with hay-like blond hair and a whiskey beard. His left eye was blue and bloodshot, yet his right eye was made of wood. He could not afford a glass eye and his wooden one irritated him horribly. He wore an odd assortment of clothes – a dull, grey, tattered t-shirt with a light, faded blue jacket, which showed too much of his wrists, making his hands look huge and ridiculous. He had faded blue trousers to match the jacket, but they were far too small, making his legs look longer and his feet look bigger. His shoes were black with holes in them. He wore a brown leather belt round his trousers where he was meant to keep a pistol, only, the Captain never trusted him with one. The man’s name was Ragetti, a pure blood pirate.
Ragetti stared at three of his crewmates who were playing cards in a corner of the room. One of them, a black man with wild, black hair and teeth that looked too big for his mouth, won for the third time in a row and slammed the cards down, shouting victory and laughing wickedly. One man, who had suffered defeat once again, looking round, annoyed. He was short and plump, with a scarred face. The top of his head was bald, yet after that he had long, tangled, discoloured hair and beard to match. His eyes were a dull green, yet they flickered with life. He wore a dark brown jacket, grubby shirt that had lost all of the buttons, and trousers that finished before the ankle. His shoes were worn and tattered, the leather scratched and faded. This man was Ragetti’s best friend. His name was Pintel.
Pintel stared up at Ragetti, looking irritated.
‘You gunna try and beat him?’ he snapped.
‘I don’t do cards,’ said Ragetti. He grinned. ‘’Ere, why d’you fink the Cap’n’s in a mood?’
‘He can’t find the last of the gold, can he?’ growled the black man who had won, shuffling the cards. The crew were now listening in interest, all of them watching Ragetti.
‘Yeah, but that don’t mean ‘e ‘as to be a moody ol’ sod,’ said Ragetti, staring at his feet.
The black man stared at Ragetti. ‘You know damn well what the last of the gold means.’
The crew mumbled in agreement. It was quiet, as the black man continued shuffling the cards.
‘Oi, I thought he wanted to see some of us today, anyway,’ said a blond haired man, lounging on a hammock close to the ceiling.
The black man looked up at him. ‘What?’
There was a low muttering from one or two crew members. If the Captain wanted to see someone, it was never about something good.
‘Yeah,’ the blond haired man looked over the side of his hammock down at Pintel. ‘Didn’t he say he wanted you and Rag Bones over there,’ he pointed at Ragetti lazily, ‘in his office tonight?’
‘Yeah,’ said Ragetti, ‘but ‘e never mentioned a time or nuffink.’
‘Well you better get moving now,’ snapped the black man. ‘If you two make the Captain angry, we’re all gunna be blamed!’
Pintel cursed, groaned, then turned and stormed out of the room. Ragetti arose from his hammock and followed after his friend.
‘We’re in for it now, ain’t we?’ Ragetti said nervously, as the two of them climbed the wooden stairs to the deck.
‘Just keep moving,’ snapped Pintel.

Meanwhile, in the Captain’s quarters, a man sat in shadow on a leather chair, his feet up on a sturdy wooden desk. The curtains of the room were drawn, so a candle sat on the desk by a bowl of apples, lighting the room in a dim, warm glow, making everything jump slightly. Bookcases stood against the walls, most containing little treasures the Captain adored sitting neatly on the shelves, as well as thick leather bound books.
The Captain was brutal man, with grey, bloodshot eyes and a large nose. His skin was aged and blotchy, with pockmarks over his face. He had long, greasy, ginger hair with a moustache and beard to match. He wore a large rimmed, round black hat on his head with coloured feathers sewn into it. He had a fanged earring in his right ear with a black necklace round his neck. He wore a long, sleeved white shirt, covered by a brown, pattered tail coat and baggy, brown trousers, tucked into black boots. Over his tail coat, he wore a black, leather jacket. He had a black, leather strap going around his body, slung over his shoulder where he kept his sword. Around his waist, he had tied a long orange scarf, covered by a black belt where he kept his pistol
The Captain sighed and looked at his door, waiting. He shouldn’t have trusted those two idiots to meet him, yet they were possibly the most loyal pair on the whole ship. They never questioned the Captain’s orders; they just did whatever he said. The Captain grinned to himself. He liked that feeling of power. He liked to control.
Suddenly a small monkey shot across from the other side of the room, clambering up the desk and onto the apples. The Captain made a clicking sound and the monkey scampered across the desk to him, jumping onto his shoulder, grabbing his master’s ear with tiny, velvet-soft hands.
‘You’re daddy’s little pet, aren’t yeh, Jacky,’ the Captain growled lovingly in a slight Scottish accent, scratching the monkey’s head softly. His hands were twisted but strong, his nails sharp and black with dirt. The monkey squeaked happily, nuzzling into his master’s neck. The Captain smiled, bearing his rotting teeth.
He waited, listening to his ship creak around him. He could feel the water beneath him, gently brushing against the boat. How he loved the calm – just being able to sit without some bloody crew member barging in explaining how Ragetti had got himself stuck within the rigging again, or how some unfortunate crewmate had accidently thrown up on deck. He loved being in control, yet he did find his crew incredibly unstable without him. Though saying that, some of his men were fantastic pirates, and during battles, he felt proud to watch the fighting for his victory.
Suddenly he heard something. He listened carefully. Footsteps and a quiet murmuring from outside. Had those two buffoons finally arrived? The Captain waited. The monkey sensed something too, and cocked his head up, staring at the door. He made a little growling noise. The Captain stroked him to calm him.
The murmuring and footsteps got louder, when suddenly there was a knock at the door. The Captain stood up, stretching. He wandered over to the door, the monkey swaying on his shoulder. He opened the door slightly and peered out the crack, squinting in the evening sunlight. Pintel and Ragetti stood before him, waiting.
‘Took yer time,’ snapped the Captain. The two men jumped when he spoke. He opened the door wider and the two men scurried in. He then closed it quietly and turned to face his desk where Pintel and Ragetti stood, watching the Captain.
‘Hello, Captain,’ said Pintel, sounding nervous.
‘Why yeh both so late?’ the Captain demanded, looking at them both. ‘Can’t I trust yeh with anything?’
‘Well – ah – you see –’ stammered Pintel. The Captain raised an eyebrow looking bored.
‘We got caught up in some stuff,’ said Ragetti quickly.
‘Yeh mean yeh forgot,’ snapped the Captain.
Pintel and Ragetti grinned guiltily. The Captain rolled his eyes; then suddenly grabbed one of Pintel’s shoulders. Pintel jumped as soon as the Captain touched him. The Captain chuckled wickedly.
‘Now, Pintel, do yeh know why yeh here?’ he said softly, his battered, hardened face close to Pintel’s. Pintel shook his head quickly. The Captain raised an eyebrow. ‘Yeh mean yeh don’t know why yeh here?’
‘Not – er – not technically speaking, sir,’ said Pintel nervously.
The Captain sighed, looking bored. He released his grip on Pintel’s shoulder and stood up straight. ‘I haven’t been very happy lately,’ he said quietly.
‘We know, Captain,’ Pintel muttered, nodding his head quickly.
‘Yeh have any idea why?’
Pintel paused.
‘It’s ‘cause you can’t find the gold,’ Ragetti piped up, who was running each dirty finger over the bowl of apples, apparently admiring their smoothness.
‘Exactly,’ the Captain said, nodding. He looked at Pintel and placed his hands on Pintel’s shoulders. ‘Now, let me tell yeh something. I know where the last piece of Aztec Gold is.’
Pintel’s eyes lit up with happiness and excitement. Ragetti looked at the Captain in shock.
‘’Ow the bloody ‘ell do you know that?’ he cried.
‘I heard the echo when it entered the water,’ the Captain replied in a hushed voice. ‘It’s North from here. The only place I reckon it could be in is in that English town called Port Royale.’
Pintel and Ragetti looked at each other, their eyes wide.
‘Only one question remains …’ the Captain continued. ‘How did it get in the water in the first place?’
Ragetti looked utterly clueless, but he usually did anyway. Pintel thought long and hard before saying feebly, ‘it fell in?’
‘Close, Pintel, close,’ the Captain said gently. He paused and looked at the two men. He cleared his throat. ‘If the last piece of Aztec Gold is at this “Port Royale”, and bare in mind that it is nowhere near the Isle de Muerta, what else would we be looking for if we went there?’
Pintel and Ragetti looked as though the Captain had been speaking French. Ragetti just shrugged and said, ‘I’unno, a meal or summink?’
The Captain groaned at Ragetti’s stupidity and hit him round the head so hard that his wooden eyeball popped out and fell to the floor. The monkey suddenly leapt off of his master’s shoulder, grabbed the eyeball and then bolted across the room with it. Ragetti, being the idiot he was, fell to his knees and scurried after the monkey. The Captain rolled his eyes and looked at Pintel.
‘Well, Pintel?’ he growled.
‘More gold?’ Pintel squeaked.
The Captain grabbed Pintel and shook him hard.
‘Pintel! Bootstrap Bill! Do yeh remember ol’ Bootstrap Bill Turner?’
‘Aye, Captain,’ said Pintel quickly, fear in his voice. ‘Y-you killed him –’
‘Ah, that was quite fun, wasn’t it?’ said the Captain, remembering the anger he had felt at the sight of Bootstrap’s smug face – and the joy of seeing the man sinking to the bottom of the ocean floor, trying hopelessly to stay afloat –
‘B-but that doesn’t explain the whole gold thing,’ mumbled Pintel.
‘Think, Pintel,’ the Captain said sternly, staring straight into Pintel’s eyes. ‘We went for Bootstrap because we thought he had the last piece of gold. We knew he had taken it, and yet, he didn’t have it when we killed him. So, who could he have given it to?’
‘A – a close friend,’ said Pintel quickly. ‘Or … or his wife –’
‘Close … keep going …’ said the Captain patiently, feeling as though he was teaching a child how to pronounce a word.
‘His – his –’ Pintel paused, closing his eyes tight, straining himself to think. The he understood. ‘His child!’
The Captain, who had not been expecting Pintel to grasp it so quickly, released Pintel and clapped his hands in applause. He put a hand on Pintel’s shoulder.
‘Aye, Pintel, his child. His only child holds the gold … and the key to breaking the curse.’ The Captain went over to his desk and took an apple from the bowl, throwing it up and catching it over and over again. ‘Pintel, alert the crew. We set sail in a few hours time in the direction of Port Royale. Yeh tell them we shall be invading the place, so tell them to be prepared …’ the Captain paused, clutching the apple. He turned to Pintel and threw it at him, shouting, ‘MOVE!’
Pintel jumped as the apple shot into his chest. He opened the door and ran out quickly, just as there was a loud thump from behind the Captain. The Captain looked round and saw Ragetti on the floor, clutching his eye, sitting next to a small table which he had obviously just whacked his head on.
Ragetti popped the eye back into his head, blinking so it swivelled back into place and looked at the Captain. He grinned guiltily and said, ‘the – er – monkey got me eye.’
The Captain let out a low grunt and rolled his eyes. Ragetti scrambled to his feet and ran out the door after his best friend. When the door had closed, the Captain collapsed in his chair. The monkey clambered onto his master’s lap, and the Captain stroked it, staring at the wall. His eyes were glazed over, deep in thought.

Meanwhile, on the deck of the ship, hiding in shadow between boxes and barrels, a young woman, about seventeen, lay on the floor, feigning sleep. She was waiting, listening carefully just in case crew members decided to check on her. Her side was sore from lying on the floor, but she mustn’t move. She should have been tied to the main mast, but the shackles around her wrists had rusted and broken. They were lying on the wooden planks not too far from her. She would have enjoyed being aboard the Black Pearl, if it wasn’t for it’s goddamn captain. She had been on the ship for two weeks so far. And yet, she still didn’t know why.
She waited, eyes now open, darting around in case the Captain’s men came past. She wasn’t scared – not scared at all – just rather bored, waiting for the right time to move. When would she be able to stretch her legs? How long would it take her to get to one of the lifeboats?
Suddenly she heard footsteps and muttering. She closed her eyes tight, her heart thundering.
Please don’t check on me, she prayed in her head, please just go back to the cabin.
She waited as Pintel and Ragetti’s voices got louder and louder. She listened to them. They were decent men who were surprisingly nice to her when they were on their own with her … but they changed into violent men as soon as crew members of the Captain himself was around.
‘… Port Royale, ‘e said, didn’t ‘e,’ said Ragetti quietly.
‘Keep your voice down,’ muttered Pintel. ‘He don’t want her knowing about it.’
The woman knew damn well who “her” was directed at. She wanted to say something, but thought better of it. But what was all this about Port Royale?
‘The Cap’n’s mad, inee?’ muttered Ragetti. ‘It’s dangerous, it is, attacking Port Royale.’
The woman gasped, but Pintel and Ragetti didn’t notice.
‘Look, we’re only attacking Port Royale for the gold,’ hissed Pintel. ‘He’s barking. The gold’s probably at the bottom of the sea by now.’
The two men passed by talking, not even noticing that the woman was lying within the boxes, listening. They wandered right down to the other side of the ship. There was a pause, then a door closed. The woman knew now was the time to move.
She got to her feet slowly and crouched down behind a box. She was tall, with long, blonde hair that was kept back by a black headband she wore round her head. Some of her hair was plaited, decorated with small beads or even rings. Her eyes were ocean blue, outlined in black eyeliner and eye shadow. Her nose was slightly pointed and her lips were a little chapped. She wore round silver earrings, as well as many rings on her fingers.
She wore a white, v-neck shirt, with sleeves that stopped at her elbows. She had many bangles and bracelets up her arms – all of which had been stolen. She wore a black waist coat, tight black trousers and black, leather, buckled boots, which she had tucked the trousers into. She wore a black belt round her waist, where she kept her faithful pistol and sword.
The bangles and bracelets up her right arm hid a scar she absolutely loathed. It was a huge giveaway when visiting other countries – a “P” burnt into her skin: P for “Pirate”.
The young woman’s name was Hannah Gilchrist, and she was a notorious sailor round the world. She may have been a woman, but every pirate across the globe knew that she was possibly one of the most powerful Captain’s ever to have sailed the seas. However, Hannah, who preferred to be addressed “Captain Hannah”, knew that she would be nothing if it had not been for one man. The one man who had taken her in when no one else would. The one man who had taught her everything she knew and more.
Hannah thought about that one man she adored. She hadn’t seen him in four years. She remembered the night he had left her – she had fallen asleep next to him, but awoke on her own, only to find a note and a present left by him. He explained in the note that he had to run before it was too late. He said that Hannah would be able to cope on her own – and she had. The present he had left her was a long gold chain that had a tiny golden clock attached to it, always ticking but never telling the right time. She wore it always, even though water had gotten into it and it was now broken.
Now, however, she longed to see him again. Maybe he was in Port Royale?
Hannah crept out from the boxes and barrels silently, checking she still had her pistol and sword in case of attack. The sun was setting fast now – over half of it had disappeared into the ocean. She had to move quickly but quietly. She wandered across the deck, getting closer to the door that led down towards the crew’s quarters. She listened outside the door for a few seconds and heard the men below laughing and talking in muffled voices. They were occupied, which was good. She had more time. She crawled up the stairs that led onto the higher deck of the ship. One of stairs creaked loudly and she winced, her heart thundering. Hopefully no one had noticed that.
On the higher deck, she crouched behind a box. She would have been in full view if the Captain had decided to come out of his room for an evening stroll along his ship. She thought about him, sitting in his quarters, far away on the opposite side of the ship. She would miss him in an odd sort of way.
She looked round, eyes wide with excitement and concentration. She had to get this right. There wouldn’t be a second chance if the Captain caught her.
One of the wooden lifeboats was hanging by the rope on the side of the ship, ready to be dropped into the ocean in case of emergency. She crept over to it and, using the side of the ship and the rigging, she managed to clamber in. The boat wobbled violently, but it was secured to the ship by the rope. It wouldn’t fall unless it was lowered or the rope was severed. Her heart still skipped a beat when she looked over to see the sea water so far down. She stood up uneasily, scared she might loose her balance and plummet into the ocean. The boat kept wobbling so she clutched the rope hard, her knuckles going white. All she had to do know was stand on two feet, take out her sword and cut the rope, fall to the ocean then sail away happily, therefore escaping. It was not as easy as it sounded. Things could only get worse when Pintel and Ragetti came charging up the stairs to stop her. Hannah groaned.
‘Where do you think your going?’ said Pintel, looking shocked but amazed at the same time.
‘Ain’t you meant to be tied to the main mast?’ Ragetti asked, looking confused.
‘I’m meant to be,’ said Hannah calmly, ‘however, your little shackles broke.’
‘So you’re just gunna run?’ Pintel asked.
‘I’m trying,’ said Hannah, ‘but you two are holding me up.’
Pintel and Ragetti looked at each other.
‘The Cap’n’ll kill us if we let you escape,’ said Ragetti in a hushed voice, as if the Captain was listening.
‘What are you two doing out anyway?’ Hannah asked quickly, avoiding the subject of the Captain’s rage.
‘Had to ask the Captain something,’ muttered Pintel. ‘But that’s not the point.’
Captain Hannah stared at them both, thinking. She had to say something so they’d let her escape – but what?
‘We’re friends, aren’t we lads?’ she asked hopefully.
‘Aye, miss,’ said Ragetti quietly.
‘But its Captain’s orders we keep you tied up,’ said Pintel, guilt in his voice.
‘He’s going to kill me eventually,’ said Hannah grimly. She leaned in towards Ragetti, clutching the rope to keep her in the boat, and whispered, ‘and he’ll probably get you two to do the job.’
Ragetti gulped, looking horrified. He looked at Pintel.
‘I’m not killing her,’ said Ragetti in a low voice. A pink colour tinged his cheeks. ‘I – well – I like her.’
Hannah looked at Pintel, trying to look upset and innocent. Pintel sighed.
‘Alright, but go quickly,’ he said looking at Hannah, giving her a smile. ‘What are we meant to tell the Captain?’
‘Figure it out,’ said Hannah grinning, who let go of the rope, took out her sword which glinted in the sunlight, and slice the rope quickly and cleanly. Before she knew it, she was plummeting towards the ocean, her feet barely touching the bottom of the boat. Her stomach swirled and her heart thundered against her ribcage. Seconds later, she hit the floor. Water rose up from the sides and leapt into the boat, soaking her. Her legs gave way and she collapsed in the boat shaking, refusing to let go of the sword. She turned onto her stomach groaning, pushed herself up on all fours and coughed, shaking her head like a wet dog.
She looked up at the Black Pearl which she had fallen from and grinned up at Pintel and Ragetti – both of who were staring down at Hannah in shock and admiration. Hannah searched the bottom of the boat and found two oars. She sat in the boat in a puddle and began to row away, soaked and shaky, but so glad to be off that damn ship. She had done it. After two weeks of planning, waiting and pain, she had escaped the Black Pearl. Only a little bit of sun peered out from the ocean. Night was coming quickly. She had to get to Port Royale before the ocean became dangerous.
She thought to herself, her head frantically searching for a plan. She could got to Port Royale, win the trust of the townspeople and warn them of the attack, become loved, steal whatever she could find then leave mysteriously as a hero, but in the meantime, search for that one man she longed to see again.
Hannah looked up to that the ship was getting further away. She smiled to herself, just as the sun disappeared under the sea, and stars began to appear in the darkening sky.

Back on board the ship, the Captain had fallen asleep in his office. His head lolled on his shoulder while his monkey stayed loyally on his lap. He was dreaming about riches … Bootstrap … the gold …
Suddenly the door burst open, ripping the Captain out of his sleep. The Captain cursed loudly, jumped and clutched the chair as he stared at the two people in the doorway in a slight daze. The monkey squeaked and shot onto his master’s shoulder.
‘Sir! The girl! She’s gone!’ cried Pintel quickly.
‘Yeah, one of ‘em life boats is gone too!’ added Ragetti.
The Captain jumped to his feet and roared, ‘WHAT?!’
Pintel and Ragetti flinched.
‘The – er – the girl,’ said Pintel feebly. ‘She – er – she’s g-gone.’
‘WHY?’ roared the Captain. ‘DID YEH SEE HER LEAVE?’
‘No, no, no,’ said Ragetti quickly. ‘We went to check on ‘er an’ all we found was ‘er shackles.’
The Captain let out a roar of anger, took out his gun and shot Ragetti in the chest. There was a pause, Ragetti frozen in shock. He looked down at the bullet hole then fainted, falling backwards onto the floor. Pintel kicked him, looking bored.
‘You can’t die, you idiot,’ snapped Pintel.
‘I know,’ said Ragetti, his eyes closed. ‘I’m just adding effect.’
The Captain growled and stormed past, shoving Pintel out of the way and making sure he trod on Ragetti’s hand as he stepped out the door. He stormed across the deck, the monkey clutching his master’s neck so he didn’t fall. As the Captain past the crew’s quarters, he hammered on the door and shouted down the stairs.
‘UP, YER FILTHY SCALLYWAGS!’ he roared. He heard the crew silence immediately. ‘THE GIRL’S ESCAPED FROM THE MAST! SEARCH THE SHIP IN CASE SHE’S HIDING!’
He stormed up the stairs to the higher deck just as his crew came running out of the cabin. They spread over the ship, searching everywhere. It was complete chaos. Some crewmen, the Captain saw, hit Pintel and Ragetti before continuing their search, shouting at them. He smiled wickedly, then turned to see one of his life boats was missing. He ran to the side of the ship and peered over into the distance. He could see a very, very small figure on the horizon and roared, clutching the side of the ship in anger. One of the crew members approached the Captain warily.
‘We can’t find her,’ said the crewman nervously.
‘Aye … she’s gone,’ said the Captain in shock. ‘After two weeks … she’s gone.’
‘Shall we set sail after her, Captain?’
The Captain paused and looked at the crewman. ‘Why bother? She won’t make it to Port Royale. She hasn’t a compass.’
The crewman grinned evilly and nodded.
‘So when do we leave, sir?’ he asked.
‘Tell the boys to give it an hour,’ said the Captain. ‘We’ll take our time. We’ll raid Port Royale when most of the residents are asleep. It’ll be easier – and not to mention a lot more fun.’
The crewman grinned, then turned and started calling out to the rest of the men that were waiting on deck. The Captain rubbed his hands together and smirked, wandering back to his cabin to prepare for the raid.