HEY GUYS! Guess what? I'm finally back! haha I hope you like this next chapter; it's a little crazy, but it is pretty awesome!

Chapter 8

Escape

My world was a blur as I dashed through the alleys and back-ways of this little island town, replaying the scene from the tavern in my head as I went. Several guns had gone off within the tavern, and I had figured them all to be drunken shots, not even fully loaded. Sadly, I was horribly wrong. Barbossa's first mate had been a mere three feet away when he had fired, and had tried to shoot me straight through the stomach. I had been able to move a bit, but the ball had still gone clean through my side, and it hurt like hell.

I couldn't help but scream from the pain, and the drunken fools had cheered like they had just stumbled upon a brothel. As they were cheering, they were distracted enough for James to haul me out the door, and take off running. We had split course so that we could run to the cliffs on the very edge of the island and meet up there. That way it would be easier for us to not be spotted.

But that wouldn't matter if I didn't make it out of the blasted town. My wound was bleeding profusely, despite my efforts to pack it with my shirt, and, as I said before, everything was hazy. There were several times I thought I had seen a man running at me, and had slashed blindly at them with my sword; only to find out it was a barrel or a haystack. The only man I had actually run into was the one in the ally, and my dying mind kept playing over the scene.

When he had grabbed me, he had grabbed my tattooed arm first, as though he knew I was right handed, and had instantly known that in my left hand was my shiv, and grabbed just below my palm and pressed hard with his thumb to make me drop the knife. He hadn't said a word, but there was something, now that I thought about it, that was familiar.

But I couldn't seem to focus on the thought for very long. My thoughts were all starting to blur together, and running was becoming too hard. Luckily I was near the cliffs, and could barely make out the outline of my ship in the bay as I started walking. My breathing was shallow and rapid, and I knew I couldn't stop.

Suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around my chest, holding my arms to my sides. I tried to struggle as I shouted insults at the man, "Get yer hands off me you yellow-bellied, good for nothing, son of a…"

"Shh! Meara! It's me," He loosened his grip and I turned to punch him, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me to his chest; making me immobile again. I jerked my head up and saw it was, "James." It may have been just the hazy blur of my pain-seared soul, but he looked incredibly dashing in the moonlight. A few strands of his nut brown hair had blown loose from his pony-tail and, despite the beard; he looked very different…in a good way.

"Ah…yes…" I came to my senses and stepped back. "Now all we have to do is get to the ship; if the sharks don't eat me first." The damn gunshot wound was still bleeding, and I'm sure that the dumb, carnivorous, blood seekers would enjoy tearing me apart to get more of it.

"No worries lassie," Sylvia came to perch on a boulder near us, "The sharks in the bay have been deterred, and your crew has two boats coming to get the both a ye." Then she turned towards the bay where I could see the tops of my masts, "All ye have t' do is jump."

"Easy as that?" I asked with a crooked grin.

"Easy as that." Sylv chuckled and I wobbled my way over to the cliff's edge. It was an easy dive down, about two-hundred feet to the depths of the bay. Then I turned back to James.

"Ladies first." He said with a shrug.

"Alright." I nodded, and looked back to the cliff.

"HOLD IT! HOLD EVERYTHING!" We whirled around at the sound of the new voice joining us. James had his sword out in an instant, and my groggy mind had problems moving my arm to draw my own blade. I wrapped my fingers around the handle and tried to pull but it only came half-way out of the sheath and fell to the ground.

"Go Meara! Jump!" James pushed me behind him, as I was reaching for the sword and nearly fell over.

"Do ye want me t' just die?" I grumbled and reclaimed my blade, carefully sliding it into its scabbard.

"Be careful you feckless ingrate!" The new man nearly screamed when I moaned in pain. James didn't reply, just lunged at the man, whose identity was now realized. "Feckless ingrate" was a certain captain's favorite saying.

"Jack?" I breathed and stepped towards him, and brushing aside Norrington's blade

"Aye." Jack stepped up to me, and steadied me as I faltered, "You asked for help and I came, love." He spoke softly, and it was strange. Men didn't usually speak to me in that way…

"Thank you." I replied and suddenly felt light headed, and stumbled again as my knees tried to collapse. Both men lunged forward to catch me, but Jack, being closer, slipped his arms under mine, and helped me keep my feet. Even in the darkness I could see Norrington glare at Jack, and couldn't help but see Sparrow smile. Oh brother. I thought Really boys?

"Well in case you morons have forgotten," Sylvia flew over to me and hovered by my head, "She's been shot, at very close range, clean through the left side, thank goodness, and needs t' get to her ship t' be tended to; before she bleeds to death." She glared at them.

"Very true." I smiled best I could through the pain and stumbled away from Jack and to the cliff again, "Last one there is a rotten egg." Without any more hesitation, I jumped off the ledge and plummeted through the air. The wind tore at my face and clothes as I tried my best to lengthen into a dive, and met the dark waters with a splash.

Immediately the salty water streams into the bullet hole and I scream from under water. The salt was cleaning out the wound, but the pain sears for only a moment longer until my world starts to fade; it's too much. Just before my vision goes black, and I float to the briny depths, another body plunges into the water near my head. Again a strong arm is wrapped around me as I am dragged to the surface. Damn this wound! I think, I don't need all this rescuing!

As we break the surface, I gasp and sputter for air, then bite back a wail of pain as Jack brushed against the wound while trying to keep us both above water. "Thank you, Jack." I growled as a longboat made its way over to us.

"Least I could do, love." He muttered and helped my men haul me out of the water. One of his hands ended up on my buttocks as he shoved me upwards, and I tensed. Then with a dumb smile, I slapped it away.

"Watch yerself Sparrow. I know ye have a way with the ladies, but I'm no lady." The cheek of the bloody pirate! I growled in my head and wiping away the ludacris smile on my face.

"Sorry," Jack grinned and pulled himself up into the boat, "I just,"

"You'll be doubly sorry if you touch her like that again." Omar growled at him, pretending to sharpen one of his, rather large, hunting knives, and making sure that the edge glinted sinisterly in the moonlight. I smiled at the protectiveness my crew displayed for my rash self, and felt warm on the inside. Then I turned and saw the other longboat heaving James aboard.

"Well come on you idiots! She needs to be tended to!" Sylvia came to land on the prow, and shot callous glares at all of the men who sat there watching Omar and his knife. Slowly, the Spaniard put away the knife and took up the ores. With a surge, we glided through the waters back to my ship, so that we could slip through the bay and get away without trouble from Barbossa.

Soon I was trying my absolute hardest to look sea-worthy, and climb up the rope ladder to the deck of my beloved ship. There were only a few times that I had to pause and readjust my grip on the rungs of the ladder, with only minor whimpers of pain. The wound had slowed it's bleeding from the salty sea intervention, which would, in turn, keep out any infection that would most likely find its way into the tissue.

As I made it to the railing, I was surprised to see Scrum, Eddie, Jim, Benji, and dear little Kevin waiting there to help me up. As they reached out arms to my aid, I said, "I'm glad you lads decided to come with us. We could use the extra hands." I placed my feet on the solid deck and leaned heavily on Scrum for support. Omar snarled something at him, though, and scooped me into his burly arms to carry me to my cabin, so that he could stitch up the hole and stand watch.

But as he turned to leave, Benji tapped his elbow, "Um, sir, could I, perhaps…" My first mate's face became a touch soft and he finished the light blonde haired boy's request.

"Help me out, and learn a thing or two?"

"Yes! Uh…sir." He saluted and eagerly followed us down the hatch as I finally gave in to the blackness, and fell into a deep, untroubled, sleep.

"That went well." Jack smirked as he stepped on board the Outlaw Rose in the full moonlight, just before a very unsettled James Norrington.

"Well?" James burst, completely flustered by the past thirty minutes. "She nearly died and we were almost to the ship. Then your little fiasco cost us more time!"

"What would you have done differently, hmm?" Jack whirled around, soaking wet and whole-heartedly agitated by the fact the man in front of him was, well, in front of him.

"Unlike a pirate," James hissed, placing a hand menacingly on the pommel of his recovered sword, "A man helps a woman in need."

"And how exactly did, your man-ship, figure that out?" Jack saw him move and mirrored his threatening movements as the crew watched in silence.

"Did you see the wanted posters?" Norrington snapped back, inching his blade out slowly.

"I've seen plenty for my own face, mate. After a while, you don't notice them anymore." With a smug little smile and shrug the fight was on. James drew first and moved to cleave his blade through the pirate's shoulder and cut him in half. Jack deftly blocked and the blades connected with a shower of sparks.

"Test me pirate!" James hissed through the locked blades.

"BOTH OF YOU STOW IT!" With a whir of feathers Marlow rammed into the locked blades, with incredible strength for a bird, even his size, pried the swords out of the men's hands, and flew to his mistress' cabin; swords clasped in his long talons.

Sylvia had roared out the order, and now stood before the men as a tall, pale, very muscular woman with silver-grey hair that came down to her waist in a tight, complicated, braid. A few strands had escaped to frame her high cheek bones, and angular face. Piercing hazel-brown eyes glared lightning at James and Jack; while in her hands she held two pure silver rapiers, and, secured in holsters that crossed her chest, three silver flintlock pistols.

She wore a pair of tight white trousers, black knee-high, leather boots, and a grey-black canvas shirt that tied off at her wrists, and just above her small chest. She wore a silver, laced up, corset-like vest with swirling, smoky lines all across it. All in all she looked to be in her late twenties, astonishingly beautiful, and also quite terrifying.

"Wha…you…you're a…" James spluttered.

"Bird." Jack's face was twisted in confusion, and he just stared for a moment at the un-real woman in front of him.

"I am Sylvia Conchobhair, patron o' the warriors for the Silver Wing Clann, and First mate o' the Outlaw Rose."

"But I thought Omar…" Scrum stepped up from his group, whose mouths still hung open.

"Omar is second mate, yet acts like first when I must return to my spirit form." Sylvia explained gently, "My clann are protectors, and Meara saved my life many years ago in London; I owe her a life debt, if you will."

"So wait," Jack stepped up to her and found her to be a little taller than his six feet two inches height, "You're not just a pigeon?" Before Jack could move, there was a flash, and she had the, very sharp, blade of one of the swords pressed, hard, to his throat.

"I know you've always hated me Sparrow, and I've always disliked you, but let me tell you now;" She hissed in his face with a thick Celtic accent, "I am a Silver-winged Falcon. I eat pigeons, sparrows, mice, rats, and other such creatures. Ye dare call me a pigeon again, and ye'll have young Mr. Turner to talk t' before long. Are we understood?" Jack nodded quickly, knowing he was whipped. "Good. Now,"

She turned back to the crew, "What are ye gawkin' at ye lazy dogs? We've got a ship t' sail and we need all possible speed! MOVE!" All in the crew turned immediately and scurried to their stations. Before long the ship lurched forward and they cut thorough the waters, away from the Tortugan bay. As this all took place, Sylvia strided up to the helm and stood next to the dainty wheel; clasping her hands behind her back and looking out on the crew with a watchful expression.

"What in the name of…" James trailed off as he and Jack stared at the woman who looked like she just stepped out of the moon.

"I don't know. I really have no idea." Scrum mumbled.

"She's never done that before." Jack murmured, "Not even when Meara and I were orphans."

"You know what happened?" Norrington and Scrum whirled around and looked at the pirate expectantly.

"I didn't say that!" Jack replied.

"Mr. Sparrow and Mr. Norrington," Sylvia's voice rang out over the deck, "I wish to see both of you up here. NOW." The fore mentioned shared a look and strowed up the stairs to stand behind the woman, heads bowed and hands at their sides. "So, ladies, what was that I saw there on the deck?" Her voice sounded sweet, but both knew she was furious.

"Well, ya see…" James stuttered.

"What I saw," The first mate whirled around and stared them down until each had to avert their eyes, "Was an act worthy of a flogging from the Cat o' Nine; perhaps even a keelhauling." She tapped her chin thoughtfully with a dainty white finger. "But I will leave that up to the captain to decide when she wakes up." With that she walked back down the stairs and down the hatch to Meara's cabin.

But she paused just before disappearing to call, "Welcome to the Outlaw Rose gentlemen."