017

Tanya

And there goes the flare, I thought, as it started to fall back towards the ground. Fifth flare so far. We had drawn in about thirty individuals from across the desert, all of whom were happy to be out of the sun and all of whom were on board with whatever plan we were coming up with to try and get out of this hellhole.

Some of them had familiar names—men who I was sure had died long before my arrival in the Caribbean. Others had names that meant nothing to me, which probably meant they were the unlucky crew of men who were famous.

So far, though, no one had tried anything grand and stupid, and since they all came in groups of two or three, they weren't attempting anything foolhardy.

Black Bart was standing by the wheel up on the bridge as I watched the latest flare fall back to the ground.

Magical flares didn't take much energy, but they were somewhat limiting in my abilities, making me a bit tired. Thankfully, the sun was still up. Actually, had I ever seen the sun set in this realm? Isn't it strange that the sun isn't setting? If the effects of the flares are limited by the sun, shouldn't there be fewer people showing up? Why are there so many people around my ship?

Maybe they were going to try and steal it. After all, it sucks to be them. I still had a few tricks up my sleeve, and a shotgun empowered by mage draft could probably take down twenty of them before I had to deal with the remaining few.

I let out a laugh at the thought before wondering why I was laughing. Killing people is a horrible waste of resources, I sighed, rubbing my head. How many hours had I been awake? When was the last time I slept? When was the last time I had a drink of water—yesterday or years ago? I slapped my face, trying to clear my mind as I got up from the banister on the side of the ship and started walking back towards the bridge. I had to get control of myself or I'd end up just as daft as Jack.

Wouldn't that make us the perfect couple?

I smacked my forehead into my palm, trying to drive that thought out of my head. I really am going insane. I tried not to think of such stupid things, licking my dry lips as I walked down the top deck. There were a few of the thirty individuals on the top deck—six in total—men who appeared to be stronger than the others on lookout, checking the guns and making sure that the Black Pearl could theoretically sail if an enemy came for us.

Hopefully, we won't have to worry about that, but really, who knows? Perhaps all these people aren't real, and I'm just hallucinating because I've lost all sanity.

I shook my head. These thoughts were concerning. There was one good thing about them: crazy people don't question their craziness, so obviously the fact that I'm questioning my sanity must mean I'm not crazy—yet. The operative word being "yet." I looked off to my left, out into the desert, and stopped dead, confused. Very confused. I saw General Z standing there, smoking a pipe as he looked towards me, a pair of glasses perched on his nose. Was he judging me, looking at what I had become? Or was this not real? It had to be not real. I turned away and decided I probably should get a drink of water before I talked to Black Bart. Best to have some clarity before you go absolutely looney tunes…

I laughed as I entered the darkness of the hallway separating the bright, sunny outside from the internally shaded inside of the ship. I walked over to one of the few water barrels I had salvaged. Did I have water? Did I have supplies? There's water there, right? I shook my head, questioning reality. Being in a place that wasn't real is a sure way to lose your sanity, I thought, just deciding that if there was a water barrel here now, it must be real—or this reality is based on belief. Shaking my head, I simply grabbed a ladle, brought it to my lips, drank down the water, and enjoyed it, licking my lips before turning around and walking out into the trenches.

Okay, this wasn't right, I said, looking back and forth as artillery shells came streaking in to hit areas further back or in front of the trenches. Men were moving about, men were screaming.

Pain, horror, suffering, fear—this realm must operate on that. It must have been digging at my mind, trying to find something to screw with me. There's no way I was back in my second life. There's no way that's…

"Good morning, Commander," a familiar voice said. I turned to see Vishna standing there, holding a letter. "We just got an order for you."

"That's not…" I said, confused. "There's no way Vishna is here. How would they know who Vishna was? Could you dig deep into my brain, or is this real? Was the last nineteen years of my life imagined? Nah, that couldn't be right, could it?" I shook my head, trying to get a firm grasp on reality, taking my hand and embedding my nails deep into my palm, feeling the pain before taking a breath and looking around again. Things were still looking pretty Western Front, I thought, licking my lips before looking at Vishna, who was waiting expectantly, holding out a letter and a coffee cup.

"I've also prepared a drink for you. It should be pretty good. I think I've been working hard at it."

"Thank you, Vishna," I said, reaching out to take the letter and the coffee, looking at both before deciding that I would like to taste the coffee first. Maybe it would help clear my mind. Licking my lips, I brought the cup to my lips and drank. It felt ever so satisfying; I hadn't had a good cup of coffee in a long time—so much better than mead and rum. Shaking my head, I set the cup back down before pulling my service knife out and cutting the letter open, folding it out to look at it.

"Major Tanya von Degurechaff," I read. "I'm happy to announce that your request to be transferred to military HQ to help with logistics has been granted. Your time on the front has come to an end. Please select a command staff from those you know on the front and return to HQ as soon as possible."

I read it aloud, seeing Vishna's face turn to a smile. She said, "Oh, wonderful! I've been hoping that request would go through for months now. Finally, it happened!"

"Yeah, yes, wonderful," I said, smiling at the paper. Then I let out a chuckle and a giggle before I madly tackled the letter in both hands and ripped it in half.

"Tanya!" Vishna said, reaching out to my shoulder, looking at me concerned as I laughed in her face. I pushed her away and stepped back.

"Do you think you're going to play me for a fool, don't you? Do you really think I'm going to fall for this? There's no way BMX would let that go through, not after what he put me through so far and what he would put me through after the Western Front. I'm not a fool like I was before! This isn't real! This isn't real!"

"Tanya, are you okay? We can get you help," Vishna said, reaching out and placing both her hands on my shoulders, looking me in the eyes. Her hair was brown then blonde, her eyes changing colors as if reality wasn't settled on what her hair should be. Do I remember what her hair color had been? Not really. The face was memorable, but I couldn't remember her hair. The only thing I could recall with any clarity was her voice. I shook my head, shoving her away before saying...

"You're not real either. This isn't real." She looked hurt by that, but I made her question it before saying, "Tanya, you're like a little sister to me. If you're having some sort of mental breakdown, I can help. I can get Wiese; he can get you help."

That was true. Wiese was a good man; he could definitely help me... help me... help me.

"You know, you almost had me there," I said with a smile. "However, if memory serves, I was never a major on the Western Front, only on the Eastern Front."

Vishna looked confused as she reached out again. I took my service knife and shoved it into her chest, causing blood to gush out and splatter onto my hand. Her face turned to panic and confusion. For a moment, I thought maybe I really had lost it, but then Vishna's expression turned very calm and somber.

"I tried to help you. You will lose yourself in this desert. At least if you had lost yourself in me, a portion of you would have remained, but you refused."

I smiled before saying, "I refuse a lot of entities that play at being gods—kind of how I got where I am today."

"At the bottom of Davy Jones' locker, slowly losing your mind? Maybe you should have given up refusing the gods a long time ago."

That hurt, I thought, before shaking my head and driving the knife in deeper. "Maybe come around when I'm not saying enough to see through your lies, creature."

"By that point, I won't need lies to take you," the creature said before turning into a black mist and blowing away, revealing my hand empty of the knife. That made sense; I didn't carry a service knife, I carried a sword. If I'd been holding the sword to open the letter, I would have noticed the weight difference right away.

The approximation of the trenches disappeared with the creature transforming into black fog, and I was left with the light of day streaming in from the front doors of the cabin, along with the shadow of a man standing there.

"You okay there, Miss Tanya? You seem a little perturbed," Black Bart said as he stepped into the room.

"I'm fine," I lied as easily as I breathed, sliding my hand back to my side. "Just trying to survive this locker as best I can."

Black Bart nodded before saying, "You're seeing things, aren't you?"

I looked at him, not sure how to respond, as he spoke for me. "Fight them; that's your only option. It doesn't matter how many offers they make to you. If you give in, if you stop fighting to actually survive, you'll just lie down in the sand and turn to bones. If you're lucky, you'll stay that way; if you're not, you're just another problem for the others trying to survive."

"Why not?" I asked before inquiring about what exactly was causing me to see things.

He raised an eyebrow before saying, "I don't know the nature of these creatures. I don't know if they're the natural inhabitants of the locker or things that fell in here over time. They could be something that got in the way of Davy Jones himself. I do know that they're not the only creatures in here; mermaids exist in this realm. They have an island that can appear anywhere in the world, drawing sailors to their doom."

He shook his head before saying, "Let me tell you, that's an island I do not want to visit again."

"No reason?" I asked, before saying, "An island does not imply that you've been to the Great Sea."

He laughed before saying, "There are lakes in this world as well—big lakes. I think they're there to throw you off from getting to the Great Sea. Water just goes where it pleases. There is always the chance that sand and water move in ways that are unnatural in this world. I don't know. I do know that creatures that come to live in this realm are of the most monstrous kind and should never be trusted."

"And how do we know any of our crew that we've just established are any of these creatures?" I asked.

"We don't. Well, I imagine they'll strike when we're at our weakest, or if we manage to escape, they'll thank us for being able to cause harm in the world above the locker."

"Huh."

"So basically, they'll either attack us or betray us once we get out of here. But until then, it'll work out fine," I said, getting a nod from Bart. Shaking my head, I looked out the back window before saying, "So what's the plan to get this shit moving? How are we going to find our way out?"

"A rather simple plan," he replied. "About three months ago, some new pirates—ones who have control over water—showed up. They seem to be drawn to large concentrations of travelers in this realm." He paused before saying, "Where they go, water follows. The crabs are also going. I think they're building routes. Your ship is good enough; I think we can play a little game of cat and mouse with these pirates until we make it to the sea. Then we can sink them."

"So your plan is to bait some other pirate force? Not the greatest plan," I said.

This got a deep laugh from Black Bart before he said, "It's a plan, and sometimes that's all you need to keep people's hopes up. As long as the crew out there believes we have a plan to get ourselves out of here, their simple being is that they either take us up on our chance or go back to the desert, where they'll slowly die, be driven insane, or lose themselves to those entities that tried to take you."

I nodded, licking my dry lips. "I just drank water," I said, looking back over to where the barrel was and noticing it was gone. I swore internally, realizing I was probably losing it, not just in my head. As I turned back towards him, I said, "A plan to move is better than no plan at all."

"Then we have an agreement," he said, holding out his hand, obviously wanting to shake on this thing as a contract. I returned my hand, and we shook just as someone outside yelled, "Sir! Sir! There's something coming!"

"I hope this is good," I said, rushing past Black Bart and up onto the bridge to get a good look at the situation. And what a look it was. Coming towards our ship was a tidal wave of crabs, cutting their way through the desert and creating a path for water. It seemed to be the start of a new river, I thought, before my eyes caught sight of what was on top of the water: a pirate ship—slightly familiar—flying the banner of the Black Pirates, the ones who had been turned into living undead and were out to get me because I killed them.

"You have got to be kidding me," I said, putting my hands on the railing as the crabs charged towards our ship.

"Friends of yours?" Black Bart asked, stepping up onto the bridge, looking off towards the incoming ship.

"You could say that," I replied, before adding as I pointed towards the pirate flag, "I killed their captain and most of their crew, and then they revived, and my adopted mother ended up killing them as well."

"Oh, fun," Black Bart said as the crabs broke upon the hull of our ship. It began to rock back and forth before being lifted up and turning with the wave of crabs, thankfully heading away from the oncoming pirate ship that was now chasing us.

"Your mother must have been a pretty impressive pirate to have sent them down here," Black Bart said, scratching his chin.

"She can pull some rather ridiculous shit," I simply said, which immediately got his head to turn a full 90 degrees, looking at me.

"Fine..." he asked, seeking confirmation.

"Yeah. Why? Do you know her?"

"No, but I do know her by reputation," he said, his eyes seeming to think hard about something as the ship rocked and was carried away by the crabs.