Pirates of the Caribbean: The Price of Freedom

he was a wild thing, fighting as he had never fought in his life, filled with
berserker rage, punching, kicking, even biting to get free. Two of the
guards were down. Jack slammed his fist into the third guard’s jaw,
and then he was free, bolting for the railing.
Someone moved to cut him off—Cutler Beckett himself, yelling,
his face distorted with rage. He’d picked up a cutlass, and was waving
it. Jack didn’t even slow down. Knocking the weapon out of his hand,
he grabbed the little man by the collar and pitched him headlong over
the railing.
While Beckett was still in midair, Jack leaped to the top of the rail,
then dived off, arcing out, heading for the Wicked Wench.
The touch of the cold water felt good, though the salt awakened
the brand. Jack surfaced with a powerful kick, ignoring the fire in his
arm. Behind him he could hear Mercer yelling orders.
Maybe Beckett will drown before they can fish him out.…
He began swimming, then a hand grabbed his left shoulder. Jack
turned, fist raised, to find Robby beside him. “Come on, Jack,” his
friend panted. “It can’t be more than a mile to shore. We can make it.
I’ll help you if you need it. When we get there, we’ll get the Zerzuran
gold—and then we’re free.”
Jack shook his head. “You go,” he said. “I’m going after the
Wench.”
“But Jack, she’s on fire!”
Jack turned to find it was true. Flames spouted from the weather
deck, amidships. “They used straw,” he said. “I can push it overboard. I
have to try.”
“No! Jack, don’t! You’ll die for nothing.”
Jack kicked off his shoes. They were weighing him down. “Then I’ll
die,” he said. “I still have gold aboard. If all else fails I’ll get that.”
“Jack, please!” Robby looked frantic. “Please, come with me!”
“No!” Jack shouted. “Swim, damn you! Get your gold. Buy your
farm. Earn that vicar’s collar. Marry that pretty girl. That’s an order,
Robby.”
“No, Jack. I’ll come with—”
Robby broke off with a grunt as Jack’s bare foot kicked him hard
in the stomach.