Neverland Academy

by Daelynn Quinn

  “No!” Finn shot up, frowning at Daphne. “No, you’re not going to tell me what to do. I do what I want. I won’t be some pathetic minion to do chores for someone else for a meager income, barely enough to live on. I write my own life. Not you or anybody else!”

  “Finn. I’m leaving,” Daphne said quietly as she looked down at the floor. She held out the flash drive for Finn.

  “Fine!” Finn snapped, snatching the drive. “Go! You can all go for all I care.”

  He stormed out leaving the file behind.

  Daphne picked it up and plodded down to the cellar where the boys were celebrating their victory. She didn’t know what to feel anymore. Her mixed feelings for Finn resulted in an emotional anesthetic. Maybe going home would bring something back to her, whether it was anger or love, she didn’t know.

  The outcasts’ amusement faded upon seeing the grim look on Daphne’s face. Approaching them tentatively, she handed Hangman the email.

  “I don’t know who Sean is, but I assumed it might be one of you.”

  Hangman handed the paper to Toot who read the email quietly while the others watched.

  “There were more emails for all of you, but I didn’t have time to print them. Anyway, there’s something here I think you all should read.”

  Daphne pulled a handwritten note with a rigid edge on one side, as if it had been torn from a journal, from Preston’s folder and handed it to Hangman, who read it aloud.

  “There are five of them now. Six, including Preston. He has connived those boys into joining his little gang of outlaws. If only they knew he is the reason they never received word from their parents. Last week I discovered Preston in the library. He had set up new email accounts in each of the boys’ names and was communicating with their families by that method, presumably so they would not be missed. I considered phoning the parents, but how would that make me, and the academy, look? No. I must keep up this ridiculous façade for the integrity of this school. I’ve taken over the accounts now. At least that will help me buy some extra time before the parents find out their children are missing.”

  “My mom wanted me home for Christmas,” Toot murmured. “I could’ve gone home.”

  “I don’t know about you guys,” Shag said. “But I’m ready to go home.”

  “Where’s Preston?” Hangman asked, fury setting his eyes on fire.

  Daphne shrugged. “I don’t know. I told him I was leaving and he just ran off. If you guys want, you can come with me. My parents can help you all get where you need to go.”

  “Let’s go boys,” Hangman said sadly. “Get your stuff. We’re going home.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Captured

  Daphne wished she could have said goodbye. Yes, she was angry with Finn for lying to her and the others. But he was still her friend and she didn’t want to leave things as they were. And her feelings for him were just complicating things more. Did she love him? Was it just a silly crush? Did he feel anything for her? She didn’t know, and without talking to him it was like leaving home and not knowing if she’d closed and locked the door.

  They’d looked all over the tunnels for Finn but he was gone. The only place left to look was the lake and the cemetery. That was where he went to think, and that was most likely where he was now. Daphne insisted that she and the boys check there before they left.

  It was already late in the day and Daphne knew it would be difficult to find her way home with the darkness settling in earlier in late September. She hadn’t lived in the area long enough to find her way home on her own. But Hangman assured her that the boys would stay with her until they found it. Unfortunately, they would never make it outside the tunnels.

  Not alone, anyway.

  Daphne was seized first. A massive, leather-gloved hand clamped against her mouth as she tried to catch her breath and a thick, heavy arm squeezed her arms painfully into her waist. She struggled for a few seconds, but her efforts were futile. She couldn’t even budge an inch. The dark, hulking figure behind her must have been three times her size.

  Daphne watched from a dark corner as the other boys were picked off, one by one. It happened so fast they hardly had time to fight back. Only Trick got a good punch in before he too was captured. Three flashlights spiraled around themselves on the floor.

  Suddenly a different light appeared further down the tunnel. Daphne squinted at the bulky figure holding the lantern. He looked even more repulsive in the warm glow that cast hideous shadows across his wrinkled face. Tapping his cane gleefully against the stone floor, Trappe flashed a villainous smirk at Daphne. He approached her, holding the lantern up to her face. The smug smile made her stomach turn the closer he came. He was near enough that she could smell pork and onions in his breath.

  “My, my, my. What have we here?” Instant recognition swept over his face. “Yes, I thought that was you,” Trappe murmured. “It was hard to see in my bed chamber, but once I found your photograph in the paper, it was all so clear. Your parents are awfully worried about you, my dear.”

  Daphne tried to speak, but the solid hand secured to her mouth made it all come out muffled. With a quick nod of Trappe’s head, the hand slid off and Daphne found her voice.

  “I was going home tonight. Just let me go,” she said, feigning innocence.

  “Let you go?” Trappe clicked his tongue thrice. “I don’t think so. Clearly you wanted to be far from your parents’ watchful eyes. Wanted to play in the boys’ roach club. My girl, you cannot join in the fun without paying the price. You must be taught a lesson. Just as you felt the need to teach your parents—the people who brought you into this world, who gave you life—a lesson.”

  Trappe turned his attention to the adults. “Take them to the church.” The boys were all shoved down the tunnel and the man behind Daphne pushed her forward.

  “Not her,” Trappe barked. “Take her to my chamber and wait for me. We may not have Preston, but no bait could be more alluring than this.” Daphne squirmed as his slimy hand grazed her jaw.

  ***

  Finn sat rigidly, bent over, on the tombstone of “Marjorie Elaine Trappe, Beloved Wife and Mother.” Cupped in his hand he held a cork that still smelled of whiskey—a memento from the night he and Daphne robbed Trappe’s private liquor cabinet. He rolled it between his fingers, trying to remain angry that Daphne was leaving him, because anger felt much more appropriate than the real emotions boiling inside him.

  How could she do this? They’d had so much fun together, so many good times. She was getting along with the outcasts and everybody loved her. And now she wanted to go home to her parents who’d probably punish her for a year after what she’d done. How could she find that more desirable than staying here with Finn?

  Deep down, he knew it was entirely his fault, but like his with his affection for Daphne he kept tossing more dirt on the tomb of buried feelings. He couldn’t take responsibility for this. He wouldn’t. That would be the adult thing to do. That would mean growing up. An awkward, uncomfortable feeling began to blossom in the pit of his stomach. Growing up. It made him feel sick, yet as much as he’d tried he couldn’t deny it. He was almost eighteen. Out in the real world he would legally be an adult. Even his thoughts and emotions had matured in the years he’d been hiding underground. How long could he keep this up? Would he really remain here, stealing food and pulling pranks when he’ll be thirty? Fifty? Seventy? He imagined himself as old as Byron Trappe, limping from some injury he’d receive from being too slow with age, trying to squeeze his middle-aged belly through the narrow walls of the academy. A grimace stretched across his face like a wax figure melting in the heat of an inferno.

  He needed a drink.

  ***

  Finn hadn’t come to her all day. It was now getting late, and Belle was depressed as ever. After what she’d done for him the least she could get was a thank you. But no. Finn didn’t care. He was probably off with Daphne somewhere, celebrating his thousandth victory over her uncle. She’d though
t about going to the cellar herself, but shrugged off the idea. He didn’t want her. He’d made that perfectly clear. Now it was time for her to move on. Tonight she’d drown herself in rum and Coke with a side of Ben & Jerry’s—one of the cooks hid her secret stash of Phish Food in the back of the meat freezer, wedged between the chicken drumsticks and pork chops.

  Belle wallowed so heavily in her own self-pity, she didn’t even notice the kitchen door left wide open when she’d entered. She’d walked right in, and stopped cold when she found her uncle searching through the auxiliary liquor cabinet. She slid behind the ranges, grateful that the clanging of glass bottles censored her entrance. But what was Uncle Byron doing here? He had his own stash in his room; he wouldn’t need to raid the cheap stuff.

  Belle peered out and watched him as he deliberately chose one bottle and poured some kind of blue liquid into it. He shook it gently, and then replaced it in the back of the case, behind the other bottles. As he turned, Belle could see the wicked smile that broke his face. He knew Finn; knew his favorite libation. And now he was set to poison him.

  ***

  Daphne deliberately dragged her feet as the gruff man smelling of sweat and vinegar led her down the corridor toward Trappe’s bedroom. Her heart thumped against her sternum like a mighty gorilla struggling to break free of its cage. She had no idea what Trappe had in store for her and she feared the unknown much more than she feared the man himself.

  Huge hands shoved Daphne forward and she tripped over her own toes, smashing face first into the floor. Her nose felt like it’d been bashed in with a hammer and fresh blood dripped down over her lips. She hoped it wasn’t broken. When the hands yanked her back up to her feet, she quit dragging her feet and walked voluntarily until they reached Trappe’s room.

  Daphne hadn’t been here since that night she and Finn had been caught stealing the scotch. She shivered when she saw the bed, remembering Finn’s body tucked underneath while Trappe hovered above, but warmed quickly at the sight of the bureau. She had a way out! She just had to get away from her captor, which was easier said than done. His nubby fingers clawed into her shoulder, making her lean uncomfortably to one side. She could try to make a run for it, but she doubted she’d get very far. She had to find a way to subdue him first.

  Daphne scanned the room for an object, something heavy and solid that might be used to bludgeon him. Her eyes floated over the bookcases, the bureau, a table, finally resting on the nightstand, which they were quickly approaching. The slag glass lamp was obviously an antique, and if Daphne was correct, the base would be heavy enough to cause some damage.

  She acted before she had a chance to change her mind, stamping her foot back onto the toe of her captor. He grunted and released her instantly. She flung herself onto the lamp and yanked upward. It wouldn’t budge. She pushed and pulled, but all that she moved was the nightstand itself, a few inches from the wall. The moment Daphne realized the lamp was bolted down, a weight came bearing down on her shoulders and she was flung around to face the man who brought her here. He was a professor—she recognized him from somewhere, though she couldn’t remember.

  Drawing from his waist, he removed a thick, leather belt, which he used to wrap Daphne’s wrists firmly to the oak bedpost. She still wore a mask of shock. There was nothing more she could do now but sit and wait. Why, she pleaded with herself, did she come to Neverland Academy in the first place?

  ***

  Finn tapped lightly on the trap door above his head and waited patiently for an answer. A few moments later, the door lifted and Janine frowned down at him.

  “Not today, Finn. Lily’s not feeling well. She’s not seeing anyone.”

  She began to drop the door, but Finn wedged his body through it, refusing to simply go away.

  “Is she okay? How is she?” he asked. With Daphne and the boys gone now, Lily and Belle were his only remaining friends. Well, maybe not Belle after the way he’d treated her. And he really needed someone to talk to.

  “I don’t know Finn. Will you tell me what happened? ‘Cause Lord knows she won’t.”

  Finn shook his head and shrugged. “What did she say?”

  “Said there was a scuffle in the dining hall and she got caught in the middle of it. But I talked to the other workers—there wasn’t any fight there. Something’s going on and I want to know what it is.” Her eyes begged Finn for the truth, but he couldn’t give it to her, though he wanted to badly. First he had to find out why Lily hadn’t ratted out Trappe herself. It didn’t make any sense to him. She hated Trappe as much as he did.

  “Let me talk to her. Maybe she’ll tell me what really happened.”

  “I don’t know Finn. She’s banged up pretty badly. I don’t think it’s a good idea yet.”

  “Please,” Finn begged. “I’m her best friend. You know that. If anyone can pry truth out of her, it’s me.”

  Lily’s mother seemed to be contemplating Finn’s offer as she stared up at the ceiling. Finn followed her eyes, wondering what on earth she was looking at. Finally she looked pointedly at him.

  “Okay. I’ll give you ten minutes. But that’s it. She needs her rest.”

  “Thank you.”

  Finn started up the stairs when Janine stopped him. “Finn. Whatever you learn, whatever the real truth is, you’ll tell me?” Her knuckles whitened from her grip on the newel post.

  Finn nodded and drew his finger in an X over his heart. Then he raced up the stairs.

  Outside of Lily’s bedroom, he hesitated. What was he going to tell her? About Daphne and why the boys have all gone? Could he confess his actions? Would he lose her too?

  Finn resolved to keep it to himself—just for now. Until she fully recovered, anyway. No need to cause her any more unnecessary stress. She’s already going through too much as it is, having had to endure that experience on her birthday of all days. And it was his fault she got caught. He should have gone for the liquor, not her.

  He knocked lightly before gently pressing the door and leaning his face through.

  “Knock, knock?”

  Lily was sitting up in her bed, three pillows wedged behind her and a paperback fitted comfortably in one hand. The only light in her room was a small lamp on her bedside table. From here, her injuries looked like nothing. They could have been simply shadows, dramatically emphasized by the lamplight, but Finn knew better. Lily peeked over the top edge of her book.

  “Finn!” she cried, dropping the book to her lap, unconcerned with marking her page. She smiled as if she’d had the best day of her life, not the worst.

  “How are you feeling?” Finn asked, easing his way slowly toward her bed as if she were made of delicate eggshells.

  “Like I was locked in an empty room and beaten by a grown man. Oh wait. Yes, that did happen.” Lily smiled despite her pain, finding humor in her awful experience. Finn was simply disgusted. He sat himself on the edge of her bed; next to her folded up legs.

  “Why didn’t you tell her? Why didn’t you tell your mom what happened?”

  Lily sighed. “I didn’t tell her because . . . well, because I’ll be out of here soon. Look!” Lily reached into her nightstand drawer, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to Finn. He stared for a moment at the return address: Office of Admissions, Brown University. As he opened it, she couldn’t resist revealing the news.

  “I was accepted! I’m going to Brown next year! Well, I don’t have enough money, but I could get a scholarship. And I know I’d qualify for financial aid.”

  “Lily, that’s awesome!” Finn said, momentarily forgetting her injuries. They shared a brief hug until Lily flinched in pain.

  “If I tell my mom what happened, she’ll go to the police.”

  “Yes!” Finn cried out. “That’s exactly what she—you—need to do.”

  “I can’t Finn!”

  “Why not?” By now Finn had realized that he was shouting and peered back at the closed door, expecting Lily’s mother to come storming in. She didn’t. “Why n
ot, Lily?”

  “If Trappe is arrested, which he will be, and the school is shut down, which will most likely happen, it’ll make all the news headlines. Finn, you know how prestigious this school is. Rich boys from all over the country attend here. You came here all the way from Connecticut!”

  “And your point is?”

  “I’ll be in the headlines too. What if Brown retracts their offer based on this? Or, even if they don’t, I don’t want this following me around everywhere. Everyone at that school will know me as the girl who shut down Neverland Academy. Rumors will spread. My life would be ruined.”

  Finn let this sink in. Part of him knew that she was right. He knew what a sensational headline it would be. That was always his goal. He was being selfish. He couldn’t do that to Lily. Anyway, Daphne got what he needed. He didn’t need to use Lily to get what he wanted.

  “I’m sorry, Lily. You’re right. I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of all this. But Trappe will get what’s coming to him. And soon.”

  “And you won’t tell anybody?”

  “I won’t tell anybody what happened to you. Speaking of, I kind of promised your mom I’d tell her. So I’ll need to make use of your window.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  A Fatal Ultimatum

  Belle had what could be a life-altering decision to make. She knew her uncle was up to something devious and it was more than simply granting a death wish to Finn. The way he walked, it was almost as if he didn’t need the cane. He stormed out with purpose, with intent. She had to choose: follow her uncle or deal with the poison.

  She hated to leave the poisoned bottle behind but she had to know what was going on. She took her chances, hoping that Finn would reject a celebratory drink. Besides, he’d probably already had some.