by Josh Hayes
Chapter Thirteen
Then
"Look," Peter said, pointing, "there's another one."
Wendy pulled the maroon curtain back. From her vantage point, just inside the bay window of their twenty-story apartment, she could see more of Barreen than she'd ever seen before. Her eyes darted over the dozen or so skiffs moving around the tall skyscrapers of Baytown, trying to find the one Peter was meaning. She was about to give up when she saw it: the unmistakable black hand painted on the skiff's silver fuselage.
"What is that, three now?"
Peter nodded, adjusting the harness. Wendy rolled her eyes. He'd been itching to test Bella's new harness for weeks now, and Wendy had a feeling that no matter how today went, Peter would find an excuse to use it.
"They've got some pretty impressive electronic countermeasures running over there," Carter told them from the back of the room. "I'm having trouble even connecting to the building's control net."
"Can you get through?" Peter asked.
"Not sure. This would be a lot easier if Harry were here."
A loud clap made everyone in the small apartment jump. Wendy grabbed for her rifle, heart pounding in her ears. She cursed when she found the cause of the sound and glared at him. "Damn it, Tom!"
The blond twin she'd forever marked as Blondie Two—or "asshole," depending on the day--looked up from the rifle he was cleaning and returned her glare with mock surprise. "What happened?"
Bella snickered, but quickly hid her smile when Wendy turned her glare to the blue-haired girl.
Peter ignored the exchange, looking at Carter. "Can you get through?"
"Yeah, it's just going to take me a little bit," Carter said.
Tom set the rifle aside and stretched his legs out on the couch. "By all means, take your time."
"Hey," Wendy told him. "If you've got somewhere else you'd rather be, by all means."
"Oh, trust me, sweetheart, there are many other places I'd rather be right now, but if you think I'm going to let you all screw up this thing, you're crazy."
"Then stop complaining and do something productive," Wendy said.
Tom picked up another rifle. "What do you think I've been doing for the last hour?"
Wendy rolled her eyes and turned back to the window. Arguing with him would only make her angry, and that wouldn't solve anything. She stared across to the tall building two blocks away and wondered just what Black was doing in there.
They'd been tracking his men for weeks, watching as they systematically picked apart Enforcement and the Civic Action Committee. It was surprising how efficient they were. They'd tried, without any success, to identify their leader, but the man they knew as Captain Black was notoriously paranoid and came above ground only on rare occasions.
As it turned out, Jukes had known very little about where all these new weapons were coming from, and less about who was actually responsible for finding them. He'd only met this Rendlee once, and that was several months ago when they'd first agreed to work together.
"A handful of money speaks louder than anything in the world," Jukes told them. "Don't really make a difference where the money's coming from."
However, despite not being able to give them his supplier, Jukes was able to point out the buyer. "His name is James, that's all I know. We meet in Baytown about once a week."
"You can do better than that," Peter had told him, pressing the shiftblade just a little harder into the weapon dealer's thigh.
"Okay! Okay!" Jukes cried, skimming away from the sharp blade. "I have a contact number. We connect about once a week to set up deals, that's it."
Peter held out a comm. "Call him."
It had taken Jukes several minutes to compose himself enough to make the call, but even he was surprised when the tall, dark-haired man named James said, "Jukes! Long time no see, I was worried something had happened to you. Unfortunately, we no longer require your services. It was a good arrangement, but it doesn't make any sense to go through you for the equipment when we can just go straight to the source. Stay out of trouble."
The connection terminated and Jukes looked up at Peter, dumbfounded. "I…I…"
"Well, that's just great," Tom said. "Now what?"
"Actually, this is a good thing," Michael said.
Peter raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
"Well, we know where James is, right? So if he's dealing with the source of the weapons…"
Peter snapped his fingers. "He'll lead us right where we want to go."
And, much to Wendy's surprise, he had done just that. Unlike the mysterious Captain Black, this James hadn't been one to stay in the shadows. Three days of tracking him through the city had brought them here, to one of the densest population centers in Baytown, and to what the Lost Boys hoped was their answer to their war.
"Almost got it," Carter said.
"Who do you think this Rendlee guy even is?" Bella asked, getting up from her spot on the floor and moving over behind Wendy and Peter.
"Someone who knows a shit ton about Neverland," Carter said.
"Eh," Tom said. "Maybe it's just some lucky ass who stumbled on a gold mine. Not like it hasn't happened before."
"I don't think so," Peter said. "People have been hunting for Graft tech ever since they left. I'd think if there was any left, it would have been found already."
He's always so damned confident, Wendy thought. Peter had been wrong on a handful of occasions since he'd saved her, not that you'd know it by listening to him talk. He always sounded so convincing. And even more difficult to discount were his eyes; they were always so captivating.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good. I'm okay," she answered, turning away, face flushed. Despite her embarrassment, she couldn't resist, and turned back to look into his bright green eyes. They made everything around her meaningless. She felt something stir inside her, something deep and powerful.
She opened her mouth to tell him, but the words never left her lips. Michael's voice came through their comms. "Hold on, guys, who's this? Balcony, about twenty floors up."
It was too far away to really make out his face without the binoculars, but Wendy could see an average sized-man looking down over the city, hands on the railing in front of him. The long black coat he wore flapped in the breeze, covering his all black clothes.
Captain Black, she thought.
"He's here," Peter said.
Behind her, Tom jumped up, moving to the window. "No shit? I'll be damned."
Peter stood, shedding his jacket, revealing the harness strapped around his torso. "Bastard's never going to know what hit him."
"What are you doing?" Wendy asked, the knot in her stomach twisting. "You're not seriously going after him, are you?"
He laughed. "Well, what the hell did you think we came all this way for? Just to sit and watch? We can cut the head off this snake right here and end this war before it really gets started."
"Hold on," Bella said, stepping between them. "This thing looks a little cockeyed." She took hold of the straps and began adjusting them around Peter's frame.
Blood pounded in Wendy's ears as she glared at the girl's spiked blue hair and before she knew what she was doing, she stood and forced herself between the girl and Peter. "I'll take care of it."
"Hey, okay, no need to push anyone." Bella stepped away, hands in the air. "I'm just trying to help."
"Wendy, what are you doing?" Peter hissed under his breath.
She glared back at him, speaking through clenched teeth. "I'm adjusting your straps."
"Yeah, I—" He grunted as Wendy yanked the strap tight. "Damn, Wendy, easy."
"Okay," Tom said, "he's gone back in."
Peter pressed the control panel on his harness. "Michael, you ready?"
The hair on Wendy's arms stood on end as the harness powered up, green lines of energy beginning to wrap around his body. A strange tingling sensation washed over her body as the pulsing energy grew more intense, un
til the harness bathed the entire room in a bright emerald hue.
"Yeah, we're ready," Michael answered. "Just let us know when."
Wendy stepped away from Peter, not sure whether it was the pulsing energy in front of her or the mission that was making her nauseous. "I don't like this."
Peter lifted slightly off the floor, grinning. "See? All it takes it a little positive thinking and away you go."
Wendy crossed her arms and glared at him. Why did he have to be so damned arrogant and nonchalant about everything? It's going to get you in trouble someday, she refused to say aloud.
"Uh, guys," Carter said, sounding somewhat worried. "I'm in."
They all turned to the younger boy, the flickering glow of his screens reflecting off his pale skin.
"How many?" Peter asked.
"Not sure. Seven, maybe eight. And it looks like they have a skiff waiting on the platform on the other side of the building." He shook his head. "But I'm still getting some pretty bad interference. There could be more and I'm just not seeing it."
"Doesn't matter," Peter said, turning for the balcony.
Wendy gave him a horrified look. "It does too matter."
"No, it doesn't, Wendy. There are some really bad things happening in Neverland right now, and I'm not just going to stand by and watch them happen. There's a war coming. A war we might be able to stop right here, if we're lucky. There's no way in hell I'm passing this opportunity up."
Tom lifted a finger. "Uhh… "
"What?" Peter snapped.
"I don't mean to interrupt your speech or anything, but I was just curious who we had climbing up the side of the building over there."
Peter flexed his jaw muscles, eyes rolling. "We don't have anyone climbing up the side of the building."
"Yeah, that's what I thought." Tom pointed.
They all turned and saw what Tom was seeing. Three figures were working their way up the side of the building, just below Rendlee's apartment.
Wendy snatched up the binoculars. All three wore a mishmash of dark browns and blacks. They wore a strange kind of mask which covered their faces, the clothes covered with some kind of plated armor. All three had rifles strapped to their backs, and they appeared to be climbing without the help of any equipment at all. A long mane of black hair, sticking out from the lead climber's helmet, blew in the wind. Bright orange bands, tied every few inches, held the hair in a long ponytail
"It's a girl," Wendy said.
"Who cares what they are," Tom said, coming up behind them. "Where'd they come from?"
"More importantly," Peter said, "what are they going to do?"
Chapter Fourteen
Then
"Hey, guys, what's going on?" Michael asked through the comm.
Wendy snatched it up before Peter could respond. "Michael, wait. There's something…"
They saw the explosion before they heard it. Glass, concrete and steel blew apart, debris streaming into the air. The three climbers pulled themselves over the balcony and disappeared into the apartment before the fire had a chance to die down.
"They're attacking?" Wendy said.
"Come on!" Peter leapt from the window, spreading his arms out wide. The harness' energy output increased, the pulsing quickening to an almost steady glow.
Someone pushed past Wendy, another flash of green, and Wendy cursed as Bella followed Peter into the afternoon air. The two soared between the buildings, spinning and twisting around each other. Peter grinned back at Wendy for a moment, then turned and shot toward the dwindling flames.
She raised the comm. "Michael!"
"Yeah, we saw him," Michael said, the frustration heavy in his voice.
Gunfire echoed in the distance.
"Damn it, Peter." Wendy grabbed her rifle from where it stood against the window frame, and laid it across the balcony's metal railing. Through the optics, she could clearly make out the smoke curling from the gaping hole, and flames dancing within. Something flashed across her enhanced field of view, and she leaned back to see Peter spinning sideways, flying around to the north side of the tower, Bella close on his heels. They touched down a few moments later and disappeared into the building.
"Damn it, Peter," Wendy hissed, sitting up. "He always does this."
"Does what?" Tom asked.
Wendy waved an exasperated hand at the smoking tower. "Goes off all half-cocked without thinking things through. And I'm stuck out here not knowing if he's okay or what to do or anything."
Tom raised an eyebrow at her.
Instantly, she realized what she'd said and stuttered to cover herself. "I, I mean if they're okay, everyone. The mission. I'm worried about the mission."
"Uh-huh." Tom slowly nodded in obvious disbelief.
Wendy flushed and turned away. "I just hate sitting on the sidelines."
"Sucks being on the sidelines, doesn't it?"
Wendy looked back at him, frowning.
"You know, always being on the outside, picking up the pieces. Bella's the same way. Younger or not, she runs this family." He gave a half-grin and nodded toward the smoking tower. "They're perfect for each other."
A sudden ball of hot anger turned in Wendy's stomach and before she could stop herself, she said, "No! He's mine!"
Tom leaned back, eyes wide in surprise. "Uh…"
"God damn it!" Wendy said, turning away again, blood pounding in her ears. She felt his eyes boring into the back of her head, the sounds of battle outside fading to a distant murmur.
Get hold of yourself, Wendy, she thought, tightening her grip on the rifle. But she couldn't stop the images of Peter and Bella running through her mind. The thought of walking straight up to that little blue-haired twit and punching her right in the nose kept interrupting the image of the two holding each other close. Wendy wouldn't allow that. Peter was hers; she just had to find a way to tell him that.
A scream pierced the gunfire, bringing Wendy back from her thoughts. A body falling away from the smoking building caught her attention. She gasped, terrified it was Peter, then breathed easy as another figure emerged from the smoke and appeared to stand on thin air, his hands on his hips.
Tom laughed. "Well, I'll say this about your boyfriend, he's got flash."
"He's not my boyfriend!" Wendy snapped.
"Oh, shit, look out!"
Tom pointed just as the building behind Peter erupted in a barrage of cannon fire. He shot away from the series of small explosions, spinning through the air, trailing bands of green energy. A skiff flew past Wendy's vantage point, the image of an open black hand painted on its fuselage. It angled toward Peter, cannons blazing.
Peter's glowing form disappeared behind the tower just as another skiff shot past Wendy's window. Auto-cannons fired, their reports reverberating through the onlookers as it chased down the Blackhand skiff. Both skiffs banked away from the tower, heading deeper into Baytown, banking and turning through the towering skyscrapers.
"Ha!" Tom cried. "That's a boy, Tim! Give 'em hell!"
Tim's voice crackled over the comm. "Damn, these guys are fast!"
"You going to be able to handle them all by yourself?" Tom asked.
"Shit, I don't think they're even wanting to fight, they're heading out of the area at full speed."
As the skiffs disappeared into the forest of buildings, Wendy turned her attention back to the smoking tower. Gunfire continued to echo through the air, but the battle remained confined to the interior of the skyscraper. She brought up her rifle, peering through the optics, but Peter was nowhere in sight. A lone skiff appeared from behind the building, moving slowly at first, but picking up speed as it lifted higher into the air, heading away from the fight.
Wendy lifted the comm. "Peter? Bella? What's going on over there?"
Peter sounded out of breath. "Did you guys just see a skiff take off out of here?"
"One just took off," Wendy said.
The skiff banked and flew past Wendy's position, heading for Midtown. She couldn't mi
ss the large black hand.
"Son of a bitch!" Peter yelled. "That's him!"
A second later Peter emerged through the smoking hole. He paused briefly in midair, then found what he was looking for and took off after the skiff. Wendy leaned over the balcony, watching as he shot through the air, but even she could tell it was no use. The skiff flew hard, its engines screaming as it angled still higher. Peter didn't have a chance, he'd never catch it.
Peter seemed to come to the same realization a second later, and let out a long string of curses. He turned and flew back, more slowly this time. When he spoke, he sounded frustrated and tired. "Tim, if you haven't already, break off. Grab the rest on your way back and meet us over here. Bring a medkit."
Chapter Fifteen
Then
The smell of gunfire, dead bodies, and energy blasts filled the darkened corridor as Wendy and the Lost Boys neared Rendlee's apartment. The eggshell walls were pocked with bullet holes, discolored and scarred by blast marks. Light panels along the ceiling flickered. A loud pop echoed around them as one of the panels exploded in a shower of sparks.
Wendy stopped short when a man, who'd been squatting over one of the dead, looked up. She recognized him immediately as one of the climbers, his mask now pushed up on top of his head, revealing a painted face underneath. Black circles of war paint surrounded each eye, and red jagged streaks ran diagonally across his face, giving him a menacing look. He considered her for a minute, then turned back to the figure lying on the floor. Wendy's stomach twisted when she saw a matching helmet lying on the ground beside the still warrior.
"My God," Wendy whispered.
"Nice hat," Tom muttered.
Peter took her gently by the arm. "Come on."
The inside of Rendlee's apartment wasn't much better than the corridor leading to it. Smoldering fires still burned near the gaping hole in the side of the building, and light filtered into the apartment through the smoke, still curling into the sky outside. It wasn't a very big apartment, just one main room and a small en suite off to the left. What little furniture it had was pushed to the side, leaving a large open space in the main lounge.