by Josh Hayes
“Just lose ‘em,” Wendy answered. “If we cut through Bay Town we’ll probably be able to lose them in traffic. We can cut across Merchant’s Cove and we should be at the rendezvous point by sundown.”
“And then what?” John asked, pushing the throttle as far as it would go.
Wendy turned back to the passenger compartment and said over her shoulder, “Then we go to war.”
NINETEEN
The smell of death and destruction hung thick in the air as Pan stepped over what remained of a wall. His heart pounded with anticipation. In all the years he’d spent being just this close, the thrill of finally putting an end to the war put a smile on his face that he couldn’t wipe away. He decided that even if he could have, he would not.
The expansive bay he stepped into was dark, and had it not been for Pix’s enhanced visual feed, Pan would not have known exactly how big it was. Several craft sat in various locations throughout the space, some destroyed and still burning from the attack.
A squad of soldiers jogged passed, moving to secure some other part of the complex. Pan was proud of his men; their decisive attack had crippled the insurgent’s defensives and left them helpless and vulnerable. Many of them laughed and joked amongst themselves, which was something Pan normally would have frowned upon in the midst of an operation such as this. However, today, he would forgive their lack of bearing. After so many near misses and downright losses, his men deserved their victory, and he was pleased to give it to them.
Pan moved around the wrecked hulk of a skiff—reduced to a pile of twisted, burning metal—and squinted at the temporary floodlights installed by his men. The attack had been quick. The follow up afterword would not be. The task of examining and logging every piece of evidence, ensuring everything was accounted for, would be exhaustive.
Between the lights and work crews, countless fires burned, and pillars of smoke rose through the air and disappeared into the darkness above. Pix counted five disabled or destroyed aircars and three skiffs scattered throughout the expansive hanger; all burning piles of rumble. Eleven bodies had been located so far, all of which Pix scanned, identified, and dismissed; Pan was only interested in one.
Pan reached a corridor at the far end of the hanger and found another body lying face down on the floor. Pix shot forward to identify the body, which was surrounded by several pots and pans, all scattered around the corridor. Dark red blood pooled under the man’s body, and as Pan starred at him, a vague recognition came over him, and he did not understand why.
He leaned to get a better look at the man’s bloody face, knowing he never met the man before, but at the same time, something was familiar about him. Without really understand why, Pan knelt down near the man’s head and studied him for a long moment. The idea that he somehow knew this man plagued him, but no name ever came.
As he was about to stand, he noticed a small pendant poking out from underneath the bulging neck. Pan reached down and pulled it free with a snap. Not much bigger than a chip, one side of the silver pendant displayed the image of a bird in flight, the other an “E”. He slipped it in his pocket and stood.
Behind him, the voice of Master Sergeant Simmons interrupted the quiet solitude of the empty corridor. “Excuse me, sir.”
Without turning, Pan asked, “Have you found her yet?”
The Sergeant hesitated. It only lasted a fraction of a second, but it was there. He said, “No, sir, I’m sorry to say we haven’t. We do have several prisoners, however. None of them are Wendy.”
Pan put his head down, a fact that Simmons seemed to notice.
He said, “There are several rooms and corridors that have yet to be cleared. We will, obviously, continue to sweep until we have verified that the entire compound is secure. I’m confident that if she’s here, we will find her, sir.”
Pan closed his eyes, fighting to keep his rage in check.
Always one step behind, he thought.
He did not understand how such a small group of misfits and degenerates could manage to evade him for so long. She must be laughing at him right now, watching him pick up the pieces that would never lead to her.
“We have found what appears to be their command center,” Simmons added, obviously trying to bolster his commander’s sour mood. “I’ve called in technicians from one of our Midtown garrisons. They should be combing through the data within the hour. With any luck, we’ll be able to glean at least some information on the insurgents and hopefully we’ll be able to track them.”
Doubtful, Pan thought. “The prisoners we do have, are they talking?”
“No, sir. They are in the process of being ferried to Revenge for processing, I—” he paused and looked up at the ceiling.
Pan waited patiently.
After several moments, Simmons nodded and said, “Thank you, Lieutenant. Keep me updated.” He glanced back at Pan. “Report from our counter-assault force from the Midtown raid.”
Pan nodded for the sergeant to continue.
“Initial reports indicate there was indeed a raid on our collection team, and it appears as though our people were completely wiped out. Two transport vehicles and three escort units were destroyed, along with fourteen of our men. Based on the com traffic, it appears that an unregistered skiff managed to take out our first two responding units then broke away before our reinforcements arrived.”
Despite his best efforts, Pan’s temper flared. “Are you telling me that a single skiff managed to not only take out an entire collection unit, but two fully armed attack skiffs on top of that?”
Simmons held Pan’s gaze. “As I said, sir, these are only initial reports. However, that is not all.”
Pan looked at him expectantly.
“Our response force located two individuals attempting to flee the area. After a brief firefight, they were taken into custody and are being transported to the Revenge, under high security, as we speak. A woman and a man.”
Pan took a step forward. “Have they been identified?”
“I do not believe so, sir. From what I understand, the woman is barely in her teens. The response team leader says she has orange hair and she’s quite feisty. Apparently, the man is somewhat of an asshole.”
A grin spread across Pan’s face. Perhaps the day was not a complete failure after all. They may have missed Wendy, but if his suspicions were right about who they did have, they would be the next best thing.
“Keep them separated, Sergeant, and bring them to me,” Pan said and for the first time in many years the twinge of pain behind his eye did not bother him.
The Prince of Neverland smiled.
The battle for Neverland will continue in…
Author's Note
I am a lifelong science fiction fan. From TV, to movies, to video games, to the written word. If there are aliens, space ships, and cool technologies, I'll devour it and then some. After twenty years of playing around with the idea of writing, I finally "bit the bullet" and sat down to write something that I would not only enjoy reading, but was original and fresh. Second Star is what materialized.
When I first envisioned the series I thought I would write 5 small (25k words) books, then put them together in an omnibus when I completed them all. But the series has grown during the planning and plotting stages and I think, to do the story justice, it will end up being four (longer) books total.
The final two books are tentatively titled: Shadows of Neverland (Book 3) and Straight on 'til Morning (Book 4).
I hope to have Shadows written by Christmas and Morning by next summer. I hope you'll stick with me throughout the journey!
If you liked The Forgotten Prince, please, leave a review, toss up a rating. It doesn't take long at all and it would mean the world to me to hear what you thought.
I'm so glad you took the time to read this book.
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Until next time, think happy thoughts and dream big!
Josh H.
August 2015
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