A Land of Never After

by R. L. Davennor

  The last thing I wanted to do was distract Peter, but I didn’t have a choice. I screamed his name at the top of my lungs.

  Either he didn’t hear me, or he didn’t care. He parried a strike from Hook that had come all too close to slashing his shoulder before diving back in with another of his own. They were moving more rapidly now, and that meant more rubble raining down. Dirt settled on my shoulders and in my hair. The ledge visibly quivered, informing me it could fall at any second. I had no intention of being around when it did.

  Heart pounding, I sprinted for the tunnel from which I’d emerged. If Peter and Hook wouldn’t listen to me, perhaps Xephan could make them see sense, especially now that the curse was broken. I’d accomplished my task, so the Guardian would have to let me through—

  A roar drowned out my racing thoughts, but not one belonging to a monster. As I skidded to a halt, Hook’s men began pouring from the exit I’d counted on, gazes wide with greed and wonder. They began stuffing treasure into anything and everything they had to carry it, completely unbothered by the skeletons littering the valuables. A few even made a show of smashing them.

  My blood boiled. “Hey! Doesn’t anyone care we’re about to be buried?”

  Evidently not, for not a single one of them looked up from their work. The way forward was no longer an option with their sorry asses in the way, so I turned back toward Hook and Peter, only to see a third presence up on the ledge: Elvira.

  With a gun pointed straight at Peter.

  I didn’t scream; I shrieked. Given the enclosed nature of the tomb, the volume was amplified tenfold, piercing my eardrums as much as those of anyone else trapped here. Though it hurt, burned even, I didn’t stop. I gripped the medallion around my neck so tight I wondered if it might fuse with my hand and used the other to tug on my hair. I screamed until I didn’t have an ounce of air left in my lungs. I just wanted this to stop.

  I wanted all of this to stop.

  When at last I went silent, everyone stood frozen. Elvira hadn’t pulled the trigger, and Peter and Hook had paused their duel. I glared at the trio, forcing the words through my seared throat.

  “This. Is. Madness. Lower your weapons and come down.”

  Peter shook his head, face pale as a ghost. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Wendy.”

  “I’ll say what’s a good idea. Now—”

  “Wendy.” Hook raised his prosthetic. “Behind you.”

  I scoffed. “If you think I’m falling for that—”

  Movement flashed in my peripheral vision. I whirled around just in time to see a skeleton launch itself at one of Hook’s men, pinning the pirate with one bony hand and ripping out his throat with the other. The man twitched and sputtered, mouth agape in horror, but it was far too late. All that remained of his miserable life was the sickening squelch of blood gushing from a gaping wound.

  That wasn’t the worst part. With what I could have sworn was a smile, the animated corpse looked to me.

  One by one, the rest of the skeletons arose. They emerged from everywhere—from within mounds of treasure, from chests, and even a few from the rockslide—and began amassing into an army. Bones rattled as they walked, or in some cases, crawled, and within less than a minute, we were surrounded.

  The tomb descended into chaos.

  It didn’t matter how incomplete or broken a skeleton was; each of them possessed that same unnerving, inhuman speed. They launched themselves at us, and if you didn’t duck, you were dead. My legs gave out more from fear than any kind of instinctual response, but a save was a save, and I didn’t currently have one fixated on me. I scrambled on my hands and knees to the nearest treasure mound, but not without being coated in blood in the process.

  I flinched as another merciless snap sounded far too close, swiftly followed by a shriek of agony. Hook’s men were being massacred one by one. Shaking violently, I pulled my knees to my chest despite every fiber of my being screaming for me to run. And go where? We were as trapped as we were damned. There wasn’t anything resembling a shelter anywhere in this—

  Wait. Yes, there was: the room with the coffins. It was in the complete opposite direction to the exit, but I’d already established there was no getting out. My best chance was to wait there until an escape plan could be formed, or we’d figured out a way to kill these damn things. So far, none of the pirates had even been quick enough to land a single blow.

  Pushing the uncomfortable knowledge aside, I crept out from my hiding place, relieved to glimpse the unhindered path back to the coffins. I took off at a sprint, by some miracle managing to dodge most of the wayward treasures, but it wasn’t long before I came upon an obstacle there was no getting around.

  Jamie.

  He stood before me alive and well, head tilted and gaze narrowed. The dragon pendant around his neck gleamed in the light still filtering in from above, and his fingers flexed, seemingly eager for something to grip. Upon seeing my expression, his lips twisted into a snarl. “‘Death pays for death, but life has no price.’”

  With a yelp, I stumbled back, but Jamie was faster. Before I knew how he’d gotten this close, the Dragon’s hands twisted in my hair. He forced me to my knees, then dragged me in the direction of the coffins.

  I clawed at his grip, nails biting into his arms. “Let me go—you don’t have to do this!”

  “‘Death pays for death, but life has no price.’” It was the only thing that left Jamie’s lips, over and over like an incantation. Upon closer inspection, I realized his eyes were glazed over, empty and hollow. I was speaking to a zombie.

  Still, I couldn’t stay silent. I pleaded and begged, kicked and flailed, desperate to be set free. At least being ripped apart by the skeletons would be a quick death; I was certain whatever Jamie had in store for me would be far worse.

  “Wendy—duck!”

  As suddenly as I’d been snatched, the pressure on my scalp was released. Jamie went careening off to the side, slamming into a pile of treasure, while I nearly smacked my head on the stone floor. Arms snaked around me; I shoved them away until I realized who it was.

  “Peter?”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No, but—”

  “No time.” Before I could protest he’d scooped me up, and the next thing I knew, we were hovering in midair. Peter gave a firm nod. “Now!”

  On his cue, the precarious ledge finally collapsed. A gunshot sounded just as huge slabs of rock went raining into the space below, crushing man and skeleton alike. I gasped in horror. “But Hook’s men…”

  “A necessary sacrifice to kill as many of those monsters as we can. And look—some of the pirates made it to safety.”

  It was true; though the rockslide had been significant, it hadn’t flooded the entire space, nor claimed the lives of all those who remained. Yet among the sea of faces, two notable ones were missing. My heart skipped a beat for reasons unknown to me. “Where are Hook and Elvira?”

  “She triggered the avalanche, and he mumbled something about unfinished business.”

  “You mean other than the ‘business’ he had with you?” Fully aware this was likely poor timing, I glowered at him anyway. “You’ll fight to the death, yet work together to save me?”

  “Would you rather we didn’t?” Peter snarled.

  “I’d rather you stop this.”

  “Stop what, the thing that Hook started?” Peter snapped. “He started everything. He wants me dead, Wendy—you’re really going to chastise me for defending my own life?”

  “I’m chastising you for endangering yours. You should never have come here, never given yourself up—”

  A terrified shriek from one of Hook’s surviving men cut me off. Though the rubble from the rockslide had settled, it began to stir anew, shifting and rearranging at random intervals. It wasn’t long before bones began poking from the debris—the same ones we�
�d intended to crush. That should have been crushed.

  Peter’s arms went stiff beneath me. “Oh, fuck.”

  I had my suspicions but needed to hear him say it. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

  “That they can’t be killed?” He sucked in a breath. “It would seem so.”

  We landed on solid ground, but not the floor of the cavern. Peter located a pile of rubble a good ten feet from the chaos ensuing below, only setting me down once certain it was stable. He’d have immediately flown away had I not snatched his hand.

  “Wait—where are you going?”

  His face darkened. “Unfinished business.”

  Before I could protest, he’d torn himself from my grip to jump back into the fray, quickly disappearing into the sea of treasure, bodies, and blood. I fell to my knees, gripping the edge of my sanctuary as I frantically scanned for any traces of green.

  “Peter! You stupid shit, come back—ahh!”

  My shout turned into a screech as something hard and strong gripped my wrist. I tried to pull back, but whatever had me wouldn’t let go. Gods damn it: one of the corpses had found me. A garbled moan escaped what remained of its lips, and crimson trailed from its mouth. I had no escape, not even a weapon—

  The dagger. I remembered just in time, ducking and twisting as my assailant made to bite me. Reaching for my belt, I unsheathed the blade, immediately thrusting it into what remained of the corpse’s middle. I twisted for good measure, at the very least hoping the wound might be enough for the awful thing to release me.

  It punched me in the face.

  With a cry, I collapsed, nursing my throbbing nose. Liquid pooled between my fingers The pain was so intense it took me a moment to realize my wrist had been freed; in fact, the corpse had also crumpled. It was moaning and whining not far from me, also sporting a bloody nose. After yanking my dagger from its gut and tossing it in my direction, the corpse took a final glance at me before disappearing back down the cliff.

  I blinked. How had that happened? It had gone from attempting to kill me to retreating in an instant, and what was more, I hadn’t touched it anywhere near its face. Had our heads crashed together in my panic? That must be it.

  Picking up the dagger, I dared another glance over the cliffside, making sure the creature really was gone before taking another look at what lay below. The fighting continued, and the few remaining pirates made their final stand… with one key difference. All the corpses had bloody or broken noses.

  “I wonder,” I whispered aloud. Unable to shake the need to know for certain, I brought the dagger to my outer arm. The cut I made was shallow, but long enough to be visible from a distance. Ignoring the sting of fresh pain, I looked once more to the corpses’ arms.

  Every one that sported skin bled just as I did.

  “—keep me from that revenge, too?”

  “Forgive me for only caring about one person’s revenge—mine.”

  Hook and Peter again. Now that the corpses had been weakened, I heard them clearly over the rest of the havoc. Just as before, they were locked in a fierce battle, completely oblivious to the men suffering and dying around them. I doubted they even noticed Elvira, who seemed to have run out of bullets and was now using a sword to fend off a particularly tall and imposing corpse. I peered closer, finding the bruises dotting her opponent’s face familiar…

  “You know, Father,” I heard Elvira grunt between parries, “while I did miss sparring with you, this was not what I had in mind!”

  Blackbeard. Just like his son Jamie, he seemed to have come alive, as animated and bloodthirsty as the rest of the corpses. Hook’s medallion glittered around the pirate king’s neck.

  Elvira might be sporting a brave facade, but like everyone else still standing, she was fading fast. Hook and Peter’s strikes had grown desperate and sluggish, and their dodges even sloppier; when Hook’s blade grazed Peter across the cheek, only narrowly missing his neck, I screamed.

  “This is ridiculous—stop it!”

  Neither of them looked up, but Hook offered an answer, speaking between clashes. “You knew how this would end, Wendy—knew it the moment you agreed to our deal. I’m not leaving until I see it done and the curse broken!”

  I stilled, free hand reaching for Blackbeard’s medallion. “It’s… still here?”

  “Course it is,” Peter shot back between blows. “Can’t you feel it?”

  Quite honestly, I didn’t feel anything but numb. My physical pain had faded and dwelling on emotion no longer mattered. I’d failed.

  I stared into the pit below—at men who’d die because of me. If not here in this tomb, the rot would take them soon. I marveled at Elvira’s skill, devastated by the idea of her never getting a chance to put it to productive use. I looked at Peter and Hook, fully aware they wouldn’t stop until one ended the other. Even if Hook did emerge victorious, it wouldn’t break the curse. Killing wouldn’t ease the pain in his heart.

  But maybe, just maybe, the death of one might set them free. I might not be able to break Neverland’s curse, but I could ensure they emerged from here alive.

  I knew what I had to do.

  With quivering hands, I turned the dagger over, staring at my narrow reflection in the silver. Blood dripped from my broken nose onto my lips and chin, staining them crimson. A tear trailed from the eye I could see. I tightened my grip on the dagger’s pommel, squeezing it harder than I’d ever held anything else.

  The stab was quick and deep.

  I didn’t feel the pain as I’d thought I would. It spread like a warmth, burning not unlike a fire; doubling over with the knife still in me made it easier to bear. I turned my gaze below.

  One by one, the corpses dropped. Elvira’s eyes widened as a massive crimson stain appeared over Blackbeard’s front, and with a soundless cry, he collapsed. Bones clattered to the stone, turning as still and lifeless as they’d been upon my entrance, and even Hook and Peter had stilled to watch.

  I closed my eyes. This, at least, I’d done.

  “Wendy? Wendy!”

  Mother? I turned my unseeing face toward the ceiling, eager to be in her arms at last. I could no longer speak, but smiled as her presence enveloped me. Two final words put my mind at ease.

  Welcome home.

  X. the end

  Featured Song: Chasing Destiny

  It was much too bright.

  I’d barely opened my eyes a sliver before sunlight assaulted them, forcing me to throw a hand over my aching face. The sudden movement proved to be an even worse mistake; agony shot down my side, and a moan escaped my lips. Only when I gripped the source of the pain—my middle—did I remember.

  I was dead.

  But if this was the afterlife, why did everything hurt? I peered at my body. My injuries hadn’t gone away, and the blanket covering me wasn’t even soft. Feather shafts poked into my unprotected flesh, naked except for bandages and underclothes, and angry red lines had formed where the ends of the feathers had dug particularly deep.

  Where in the blazes was I?

  Gritting my teeth, I sat up. My eyes hadn’t yet adjusted, but from the little I could make out, my surroundings were… normal? I appeared to be in spacious quarters—a ship’s cabin, to be exact. Gentle rocking confirmed I was aboard a vessel of some sort, but at least for the moment, I was alone. I listened hard for human activity but made out only the roar of the sea.

  I wasn’t convinced I was the only one on this boat. Someone had brought me here and kept me alive for reasons unknown. Kept me from my mother. Whatever those reasons were, my captor needed me, and after what I’d just gone through, I was not going to be used again.

  Attempting to stand didn’t seem an intelligent idea, but after discarding the feathers, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. It hurt so badly I had to fight back a sudden wave of nausea as I struggled to my feet, gripping
the wall heavily for support. Now that I could see better, I made out a chair and small table not far from where I’d lain. Its surface was littered with wrappings, a needle and thread, and other medical supplies, most stained with blood I assumed was mine. Off to the side rested a small dagger.

  Fixating on the blade, I shuffled forward, using the chair and then the table as a crutch. I relaxed slightly when my fingers curled around the weapon, and with its weight in my hand, felt much more prepared for what lay ahead. Now to find some clothes.

  I’d spent several minutes rummaging through every drawer and chest and had only located a shirt before I heard them: footsteps approaching at a rapid pace. Ignoring the stab of pain the action caused, I dove behind the chair, dagger raised and ready. My blood roared in my ears when the door handle turned, nearly drowning out the voice that followed.

  “Wendy?”

  My breath hitched. “Peter?”

  I let the blade clatter to the floor as he knelt beside me, brows knotted in concern. In stark contrast to my bedraggled appearance, he was dressed and whole, strong and sure as he scrutinized me. His sole imperfection was the cut across his cheek, but it didn’t appear to bother him.

  “What are you doing out of bed? You’re meant to be rest—”

  Emotion suddenly threatened to drown me. “Is this real?” Tears hovered at the corners of my eyes, and my voice shook as I touched his face, careful to avoid the injury. “Am… Am I alive?”

  Peter covered my hand with his. “We all are, thanks to you. You saved us, Wendy.”

  I might have smiled, had my chest not seared with a fresh wave of pain. It was only Peter’s grip that kept me from crumpling to the floor. It soon slipped from beneath me, and the next time I opened my eyes, multiple figures hovered over me. The feathers had been replaced, and soft pillows supported my head and back.