“Not men,” Salazar said, correcting him. “Pirates!” Then, ever so slowly, he brought his sword down. Turning from Barbossa, he looked over his crew of dead degenerates. It had been ages since he had been known as El Matador del Mar. Ages since he had been able to do the one thing that brought him happiness: destroy pirates. And the only reason he had been stopped, the only reason he was now stuck there, like that, was Jack Sparrow.
Still looking at his crew, Salazar began to tell his tale. His voice was low, and if Barbossa had believed ghosts capable of having souls, he would have sworn the man sounded wistful as he spoke. The Silent Mary, Salazar pointed out, had not always looked the way it did now. At one point, it had been the pride of the Spanish Navy, and he, as the ship’s captain, a hero. The ship had more weapons than five ships combined. Its many levels of decks were always spotless, as were the uniforms of the men who crewed it. Salazar commanded all this with a vicious ease. He led by example: his face kept clean-shaven, his uniform pressed every morning, his shoes polished, his sword shining.
Over the years, Salazar’s reputation as a pirate hunter grew as he stalked the seas looking for the telltale Jolly Rogers. When he spotted one, the Silent Mary would drop all its sails and speed over the waves as though powered by some magical force. The pirate ships never stood a chance. Nor did their crews.
“I destroyed dozens of ships—until there were only a handful left,” Salazar growled. “The last ones joined together to try to defeat me. But they soon realized it was hopeless. Nothing could stop my Silent Mary.”
The pirate ships went down one by one. Survivors littered the water, illuminated by the light of their burning ships. They begged for mercy. Captain Salazar’s lieutenant wondered if they should oblige.
But Salazar would not hear of it. “You know my father was an admiral—and a traitor. He patrolled these very waters, took bribes from pirates—gold and silver—allowed them to sail with impunity!” His hands shook with fury. “He was arrested when I was a boy, and soon after, they came to our house and took my mother away, dragged her to a workhouse. The wife of a traitor must pay for his sins.”
Salazar’s father was released from prison a year after his mother died in the spike. And when he returned, Salazar greeted him with a knife. “I gutted him like the coward he was. And that day I made a vow to myself—I would kill them all.”
So there was no mercy for the helpless pirates in the water. Upon Salazar’s nod, the Silent Mary’s crew opened fire on the water, the last of the pirate ships burning before their eyes. Salazar thought the battle was over, thought he had purified the waters once and for all.
But then he heard an unfamiliar, defiant voice cut through his victory. “Lovely day for a sail, Captain! Wouldn’t you agree?”
One last ship was gliding through the smoke, attempting to escape Salazar’s clutches. In the ship’s crow’s nest, a young pirate called to Captain Salazar without fear.
“The way I see it,” the young pirate cried, “there’s just the two of us left. Surrender to me now, Captain, and I will let you live.”
The pirate’s captain had been killed in the battle and had left him with a compass and a crew in need of leadership. The odds were stacked against him. But still the pirate mocked Salazar, jumping up and hoisting the Jolly Roger so that it waved with gusto.
“He stood there and was looking like a bird; he was like a little bird,” Salazar told Barbossa now. “And from that day he earned himself a name that would haunt me for the rest of my days—Jack the Sparrow!”
Incensed and determined not to let such an insolent pirate live, Salazar commanded his men to follow the pirate ship through the mist. Jack Sparrow led the Silent Mary toward the mouth of the Devil’s Triangle, instructing his crew to alter their course at the last moment. As the pirate ship made a 180-degree turn, the Silent Mary sailed under the looming arch, rocked by Sparrow’s ship. Captain Salazar was knocked in the head and fell into the dark waters. His men rushed to his aid, not yet knowing what was in store for them.
Young Jack Sparrow and his crew sailed off into the sunset, Jack’s compass pointing him toward the one thing he desired most—a pirate’s life. And Captain Salazar and his men became fragments of their former selves, bound to the Devil’s Triangle.
“The Sparrow took everything from me,” Salazar finally finished. “Left me to rot in the filth of death—which is where the tale ends for you!” Once more, he lifted his sword to Barbossa’s throat.
But Barbossa did not look worried. Instead, he pointed to the horizon, where the sun was just coming up. “I found him, as promised!” he said.
As Salazar followed the other captain’s gaze, his eyes narrowed in disbelief. Barbossa had been true to his word after all. For there, on the horizon, was the Dying Gull. Slowly, a sneer spread across Salazar’s once handsome face. He was about to catch the Sparrow. And when he did, he would clip his wings once and for all.
“So she’s saying she has the map, but only she can follow it?”
Gibbs’s question hung in the air, unanswered. There were two things Jack disliked more than anything else—empty rum bottles and not knowing something. When the odd moment came along that he didn’t have a ready answer, he was quick to make one up. In this case, though, he was having trouble with that. Carina’s ramblings and mumblings about an X in the sky were confusing, and frankly, well, they were boring him.
They were not, however, boring his crew. Instead of doing the work they should have been doing, they were staring up at the sky.
“Do any of you see this X?” Pike asked, his neck craned back at a painful angle.
Next to him, Scrum shook his head. He had his hand to his eyes, trying to block the sun, which shone down brightly on the deck of the Dying Gull. “I see a bird. And a cloud. And my own hand.”
“Jack,” Gibbs said, turning to his captain. Like the rest of the men, he was growing anxious. They had been sailing under the hot sun for hours and seemed no closer to whatever it was they were searching for. “How are we to follow an X to a spot where no land could exist? An X which has disappeared with the sun?”
Jack’s nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. He had had enough waiting and more than enough not knowing. He swayed across the deck to where Carina stood, staring at a metal object in her hand, and grabbed her by the arm. She let out a surprised gasp as he brought his face close to hers. “For the last time,” he said, “how do we find your X?”
“This chronometer,” Carina said, holding up the small metal object, “keeps the exact time in London. I’m making an altitude measurement to the Southern Cross to determine longitude. Only then will we find that spot on the sea!”
Jack cocked his head. He had seen her mouth moving but was quite sure that Carina had just spoken in gibberish.
Marty seemed to agree. “Witch!” he cried, not willing to give up on his belief that Carina practiced magic.
“So you expect to follow your X with a timepiece?” Gibbs asked, translating Carina’s words into something Jack finally understood.
Carina nodded. “My calculations are precise and true.” She paused as she looked down at the chronometer. “I’m not just an astronomer. I’m also a horologist.”
There was a long pause as her words echoed over the deck. The men exchanged knowing looks. It was not the first time they had met one of those. There were plenty in the various Caribbean ports.
“No shame in that, dear,” Jack said, patting Carina gently on her shoulder. “We all have to earn a living!”
Carina frowned. Why would Jack feel bad for her for being a scholar of time? He must not have heard her properly. “No, I’m a horologist!”
“So was my mum,” Scrum said. “Although she didn’t crow about it quite as loud as you.”
“Are you saying your mother was academically inclined?” Carina asked, surprised.
“More like horizontally reclined,” Jack quipped.
Suddenly, Carina’s face turned red as she finally re
alized what the crew thought horologist meant. “Horology is the study of time!” she cried.
“So nobody can find that X but you?” Jack asked.
“And the donkey?” Scrum added helpfully.
Suddenly, Henry let out a loud yell. “Salazar!”
Jack jumped.
“Ship to aft!”
Gibbs’s cry made everyone look behind them. And while Carina was happy they had finished their ridiculous conversation, that sense of relief was short-lived. Because coming up on them, more swiftly than was natural, was the Silent Mary.
“Jack,” Henry said, eyeing the ship, “the dead will not rest until they have their revenge.”
All eyes turned to Jack. The dead had never been a part of the deal. As the Silent Mary gained on them, they began to rumble their discontent. It was one thing to try to steal a bank or to sail on a poor excuse for a ship. It was another thing altogether to be pursued by the most notorious pirate hunter to ever live—or, rather, ever live and then die and then come back.
“We should never have followed a luckless pirate and witch to sea!” Pike shouted, voicing what the rest of the crew was thinking. He pulled out his sword, and the rest of the crew followed suit.
Turning, Jack found himself surrounded by his own crew. Beside him, Henry and Carina shifted nervously on their feet as they spied the swords and guns aimed right at them.
“Kill them all!” one of the pirates cried.
Jack held up his hands. “Kill me, and the dead won’t have their revenge,” he pointed out.
“Which will anger them even more,” Henry added.
The pirates looked confused. Some lowered their weapons slightly, clearly unsure what to do next.
Luckily, Jack had a ready answer, as he so often did. “As captain,” he said, “might I suggest…a mutiny?”
As the rest of the crew exchanged looks, Carina rolled her eyes. She was very much looking forward to the day when she would not have to be surrounded by what seemed to be a crew of fools, led by the most foolish fool of a captain. But until that day came, she was going to have to hope that, foolish or not, Jack Sparrow truly had a plan up those dirty sleeves of his.
“Mutiny?” Carina said. “You had to suggest a mutiny?”
Her hopes of Jack’s having a plan had turned out to be founded. Unfortunately, his plan was, in her opinion, a horrible one. A horrible plan that had started with suggesting a mutiny, continued with having the pirates carry out said mutiny, and ended with her, Jack, and Henry being set adrift in a longboat. Now she sat in the back of the boat, watching as Jack and Henry frantically rowed toward a small island. Carina cocked her head and sighed. They seemed in an awful hurry to go seemingly nowhere.
“Carina,” Henry said, hearing her sigh, “they’re coming.”
Carina pursed her lips. She had thought better of Henry. Or at least she had thought him a bit brighter than the pirates. Yet ever since they’d been thrown from the Dying Gull, he had been rambling on about the dead coming for them. “Ghosts,” she said, not hiding the condescending tone in her voice. “You’re both afraid of ghosts.”
“Yes,” Jack answered. “And lizards. And Quakers.”
“Well, I choose not to believe,” Carina said.
Henry stopped rowing long enough to point out to sea. “Do you not see what’s behind us?” he asked.
Slowly, Carina turned. Not more than a mile back, the Silent Mary was clearly visible. In the sky right above the ship, dark storm clouds had started to form, and the sea underneath it churned unnaturally. Quickly, Carina turned back to the two men. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I see a very old ship—nothing more.” She hoped her voice didn’t sound shaky.
As if sensing its prey’s vulnerability, the Silent Mary suddenly picked up speed. Giant sails appeared out of nowhere, giving the ship that much more power. Seeing Jack’s eyes grow wide, Carina turned around once again. The Silent Mary was bearing down on them and would be upon their small longboat in no time. And Carina had no intention of sticking around to see what would happen then.
Standing up, she began to unbutton her dress.
“What are you doing?” Henry said, shocked. His hands shook on the oars and he averted his eyes.
“Preparing to swim,” Carina replied as though it were obvious. “Whoever those men are, they’re after Jack. And Jack is on this boat. So I’m going to swim for it.”
Jack looked impressed—and annoyed. “How dare you do exactly what I would do if I were you!”
Carina continued to get undressed. “I can’t very well swim in this dress!” she said when Henry told her to stop. She pulled her dress off, ignoring Jack’s lecherous looks and rude comments. When she was done, she stood at the bow of the boat, covered from shoulder to ankle by her very unrevealing, unattractive underwear.
“This is by far the best mutiny I’ve ever had,” Jack said, unbothered that Carina’s undressing had not been that much of an undressing after all.
Carina shot him a look and dove into the water. She began to swim as, behind her, Henry stayed frozen in place, mortified. He had seen her ankles—both of them! It was improper and immodest and…well, exciting. He shook his head. Now was not the time to be distracted. And Carina did have a point. Captain Salazar was not after them; he was after Jack. Getting as far away from the pirate as possible was probably the best idea. He stood up and took off his own jacket.
Seeing Henry preparing to dive, Jack put a hand to his heart. “You would leave me after all I’ve done for you?” he asked, truly offended. “Pursue some girl in her knickers? You men are all alike!”
Henry turned and raised an eyebrow. “There’s been a slight modification,” he quipped. Turning back around, he prepared to dive into the water. But just as he bent his knees, a shark leapt out of the sea, missing him by mere inches!
This, however, was no ordinary shark. And it wasn’t alone. A whole group of them had appeared. They moved faster than any real shark, and as Henry looked down at them circling the longboat, he saw that in places, their flesh had rotted away completely. Some were missing eyes; others had hooks still hanging from their mouths. They were ghost sharks, caught in the same Devil’s Triangle curse as Salazar and his men. And their sole intention was to kill Jack Sparrow and whoever—or whatever—got in the way.
Moving back from the edge of the longboat, Henry watched in horror as the sharks began to feed in a frenzy, taking huge chomping bites out of the wood in an effort to get to the two humans stranded inside. Henry grabbed an oar and tried to bat them away. But it was useless; his oar did not faze the beasts in the slightest. Beside him, Jack pulled out his gun and fired into the water. But that didn’t work, either. The bullets disappeared into the dark, churning abyss. And the whole time, the sharks kept eating away at the boat.
“We have to swim for it!” Henry shouted. He lifted a foot just in time to avoid having it bitten off by one of the sharks. “I’ll distract them!”
Henry grabbed Carina’s abandoned dress from the floor of the longboat. He stuck it on one of the oars and chucked it overboard. Instantly, the sharks went after it.
At the same time, three things happened. Henry dove into the water and began to swim for shore. Jack attempted to dive into the water, but his foot went through a hole in the bottom of the boat, trapping him. And finally, behind them, Salazar and his men appeared, floating on top of the water, murder etched on their faces.
Jack looked down at his foot, then in front of him, at Henry. Then behind him, at the ghosts. He gulped. He was all about getting out of sticky situations, but that one was particularly sticky. And particularly deadly, he thought as a shark brushed by his foot. Flinching, Jack helplessly tried to lift his foot. But it wouldn’t move. He wasn’t going to get out of the boat alive. Unless…
His gaze landed on a grappling hook lying on the boat’s floor. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He had an idea.
He grabbed the hook and attached a long piece of ro
pe to one end as the sharks grew near. As Jack watched, one of them—a very large and very holey one, in fact—started to rise right in front of the boat. Jack waited. The shark moved closer. Jack waited a little longer. The shark moved even closer. And then, just as it opened its mouth wide, Jack brought down the grappling hook and snagged the ghost shark.
Instantly, the shark took off. Holding on to the rope, Jack let the shark pull the boat through the water, steering the creature away from the ghosts and toward the island. As the boat sped past Henry, Jack reached down and grabbed the floundering boy by the collar of his shirt. Hurling him into the boat, he gave him a small nod. Henry could thank him later.
Ahead, the island grew closer and closer. Jack could see Carina pulling herself onto the shore. He tugged on the rope, and the shark turned slightly, now aimed straight for where Carina lay. “Hold on!” Jack shouted to Henry as a moment later the shark hit land and evaporated, sending the boat crashing onto the shore. Sand and water flew into the sky, and when it cleared, Jack, Henry, and Carina lay on the beach, shaken but surprisingly unharmed.
“What is wrong with you both?” Carina asked, wiping sand from her face. Her back turned to the sea, she was blissfully unaware of the horrors happening behind her. But that was about to change.
“Carina, don’t turn around,” Henry warned, trying to save her from the sight.
“Let me guess,” Carina said, standing up and brushing herself off. She began to pivot on her heel. “You’ve seen another—”
The words died in her throat as she turned around. Her body froze. At her sides, her hands began to shake. Henry’s efforts had been in vain. The horror had just been revealed.
In front of them, standing like an army of the undead, was the ghostly crew of the Silent Mary. They floated atop the waves, unable to follow the living onto dry land. A few of them tried to move closer, but when they did, they hit an invisible border, their bodies dematerializing as they died a violent second death.
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