by Aiden Thomas
CHAPTER 21
Lost in the Never Woods
Wendy raced through the woods. Jumping over the fence and plunging into the trees had been like running headfirst into a whole new world. A dark one made of gnarled trees, undulating shadows, and the sounds of things she couldn’t see.
Her heart thudded an erratic rhythm, drums pounding in her veins. Branches groaned and swayed. Gusts of wind dragged cold fingers through her hair. The speed with which she threw herself through the trees was the only thing that kept her feet from tangling in gripping vines or sinking into the ground as it shifted and rolled.
The shadow’s magic seeped through the woods and unmade them, contorting them into a nightmare, and it was only growing more powerful with each step. As adrenaline surged in her veins, so did the black shapes in her peripheral vision.
They galloped and screamed, pushing in close, snapping at her heels. They swarmed as if sniffing her out, closing in like hungry beasts. They crowded her as if trying to herd her off course, but Wendy kept running, urging herself to move faster when they got too close.
It was as if the moon and stars had been blown out. Nothing looked familiar. She couldn’t tell where she was or where she was going. She had no idea if she was getting closer, or if the deteriorating woods were twisting in on themselves and running her in circles. She refused to let the movements in the corner of her eyes distract her.
Instinct was the only thing leading Wendy through the woods. They were unrecognizable, but her feet led her between trees, over fallen logs and under low-hanging branches. Her body knew the path like muscle memory, even if her mind didn’t.
Every noise slipping between the trees ran over her skin. A rattling inhale brushed the nape of her neck. An unnatural scream of a buck jolted her spine. A cacophony of screaming owls dragged cold nails across her stomach. Wendy’s breaths came in heavy pants. Her hair stuck to her lips. Her heart raced. She couldn’t turn back. She couldn’t stop. She needed to find Peter. She needed to get to the children before it was too late.
Wendy pushed herself forward and burst into a clearing. She skidded to a stop, kicking up dirt and leaves. The string tugging at her chest that had pulled her through the woods vanished, as if suddenly cut.
Looming before her stood the tree. The darkness made it look even more towering. Shadows caught in the crags like deep scars in its graying, fleshy bark.
“Wendy!”
Her chest heaved, a moment of relief like a shot through her body. “Oh my God, I found you.” The words were choked as she rushed over.
Benjamin, Ashley, Matthew, Joel, and even little Alex huddled together in some kind of cage. They were a little worse for the wear—with tousled hair, faces smudged with dirt, and grimy clothes—but they were all in one piece and alive.
“Wendy, help!” Ashley cried, cheeks red, tears spilling down her pale face.
“Please!” said Benjamin, his voice jumping with a sob as he pulled on the bars.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I’ll get you out of here,” Wendy croaked.
Of course, they were not normal bars. Not a normal cage. It was made of the same undulating shadow tendrils that had tried to ensnare her twice. The ones that had wrapped Peter in their binds.
Wendy gripped them in her fists and pulled hard. They had little give and pulsed against her palms like a grotesque heartbeat.
“You have to get us out!” Joel pleaded. Matthew huddled against his older brother’s side, his fingers knotted into Joel’s shirt as he wailed.
Their voices tumbled over one another, begging and pleading, except for Alex. His entire body, drowning in his large blue hoodie, quaked violently. He reached an arm out for Wendy, his tear-stained cheek pressing against a bar, trying to shove himself through. Wendy caught his tiny hand as it swiped helplessly through the air. It was cold and clammy in her palms.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she said over and over, her voice tight and betraying her own fear as she tried to console them. Crouching down, she met Alex’s wide brown eyes. “It’ll be all right. I’ll get you out,” she said, cupping Alex’s cheek in her hand. He turned his face into her palm. Sobs jerked through his tiny body.
“I’ll get you all out,” she stressed. “I just—I just—”
“We really must stop meeting like this. It’s starting to get annoying.”
The shadow sprawled out on a thick branch, one leg dangling. Its eyes were narrowed into slits as it stared down at Wendy. All traces of its earlier venomous mirth had vanished.
“Let them go,” Wendy demanded, pulling herself away from their prison. Sniffles and whimpers sounded behind her. “I won’t let you hurt them.”
“Hurt them?” Its dark eyebrows furrowed. “I need them alive and frightened. It’s the mental and emotional suffering I’m after.” Its gaze shifted down to the children. With a twirl of its wrist, a shudder of air rolled through the trees. The very corner of its lip peeled back from its teeth. “However, I am growing quite tired of this game of cat and mouse, Wendy.” It flicked her a hollow stare. “It’s not fun anymore.”
“Wendy,” Ashley squeaked.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Wendy took a step closer to the tree and firmly planted her feet on the ground. “Where’s Peter?” she said. Her legs shook, but at least her voice sounded steady.
“Peter?” The shadow yawned, bony joints popping as it stretched on the branch. “Oh, he’s a bit tied up at the moment.” A wicked smile twisted its lips. A long finger pointed somewhere above her head.
Wendy looked up.
Suspended in mid-air was Peter.
Thick, ropy shadows hung from one of the gnarled branches of the great tree. They snaked around his waist, pulling his back in an unnatural arch. More shadows twisted around his arms and legs and up his throat. They pulsed and thrummed, draining him of his light.
Peter’s skin was nearly colorless. The rich red and brown of his auburn hair had faded. Now it was ghostly silver, the color of starlight. Thin lines of gold, liquid magic, ran from Peter’s nose and the corners of his parted gray lips. He didn’t move or speak. His eyes were closed, his deep-purple eyelids barely fluttering. A single drop of gold rolled from his eyelashes and ran into the silvery hair at his temple.
A sharp inhale caught in Wendy’s throat. “Peter.”
“It’s just a matter of time before Peter Pan is no more,” the shadow said slowly, as if savoring the taste of each word.
Anger burned inside her. “Why are you doing this?” Wendy snarled.
“Why?” the shadow asked. Its eyes narrowed to black slits. “Why?” It was no longer relaxed and enjoying itself. It stood up, its body growing rigid. The ground beneath her feet began to quiver. “Shadows and darkness used to rule over man with fear,” it told her. “Then light magic began to take over, like Peter. He was created to be my opposite, to bring joy and laughter,” the shadow spat, its lips curling back over its gleaming teeth. “Peter took care of the lost souls of the children that I used to torment!”
Its booming voice thundered deep within her chest. A chill snaked up her bare arms. She heard the frightened cries behind her. Wendy squared her shoulders, firmly placing herself between the children locked in their cage and the shadow perched in the tree.
“He brought them peace, and soon there wasn’t enough suffering for me to feed on. I grew weak and was bound to him!” The limbs of the tree shuddered. The shadow rolled its shoulders and popped its neck. It closed its eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “But all of that will be over soon,” it said calmly with a grin. “I will destroy your precious Peter, and nothing will be able to stop me.”
With a flick of the shadow’s wrist, the black tendrils holding up Peter snapped. His body fell to the ground with a heavy thud. His arms sprawled out on either side of him like broken wings.
“Peter!” Wendy ran and fell to her knees at his side. “Peter, open your eyes, you need to wake up,” she said, frantically shaking his shoulder. She pres
sed her palm to the side of his face. Her thumb grazed the gold trailing from the corners of his mouth. It was warm and sticky against his icy, pale skin.
He was so pale—was he still alive?
Peter groaned, a guttural sound from deep in his chest.
Something between a sob and a sigh of relief burst past Wendy’s lips. His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths. “Wendy?” He tried to open his eyes to look at her, but they kept rolling back into his head, unfocused. The cobalt starlight had vanished from them, replaced with nothing but yawning black pupils. His hand, heavy and with little control, fell to the side of her face. His cold fingers pressed into her cheek, his palm on the hammering pulse at her neck. “No,” he moaned, thick with grief, catching on a sob. “You have to—you have to get them out of here.” Peter’s eyes tried to find Benjamin, Ashley, Matthew, Joel, and Alex in their cage. “You have to take care of them.” Another shuddering breath. Peter’s face crumpled. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he murmured.
Wendy put her hand over his and squeezed it tight. “It’ll be okay, you’ll be okay,” she told him. A hot tear fell from her chin. “You just have to hang on, okay?” She couldn’t lose him, she wouldn’t. But how could she possibly stop the shadow on her own?
“This is actually quite poetic!” the shadow announced. It smiled, pleased with itself. “You’ll be able to watch as I suck dry what’s left of Peter, and his last thoughts will be of how he failed to save you,” it cooed. Its black, hollow eyes shifted to the children, who shrank back from the bars. “Mmmm.” Craning its back, it inhaled deeply through its nose, mouth splitting into a wicked smile as it refocused on the children. “Delicious.”
Peter’s eyes were wide and pleading. He was too weak to say anything more. His hand chased after Wendy as she pulled away.
With one last look at Peter, Wendy stood and turned to face the shadow. “He doesn’t need to save me.” She planted her feet, placing herself between Peter and the trapped kids, and the shadow in its tree. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “I won’t let you take any of them from me,” Wendy said, raising her voice.
Small, panicked voices rose behind her.
“Wendy!”
“Don’t!”
The shadow threw back its head and let out a screeching laugh. “You are terrified!” the shadow howled with cruel mirth. Its smile stretched, peeling back over sharp teeth, ear to ear. “I can smell it on you, Wendy Darling. It spills from your eyes and seeps from your skin.”
It was right. Her knees shook, her eyes burned and she was drenched in a cold sweat, but she refused to back down. “I won’t let you hurt them anymore!” she shouted at the shadow.
A low growl grew in the shadow’s throat. “You dare try to stand up to me?” its voice boomed. Shadows swirled and circled the base of the tree.
“You think you’re so powerful, but all you do is go around frightening little kids!” Wendy shouted.
“Wendy Darling,” the shadow growled. “You can’t save any of them, just like you couldn’t save your brothers!”
The words shook her to her core, but she remained standing.
“Because of you, they’re doomed to wander the in-between, unable to rest or find peace!”
Her brothers’ cries filled the air. Wendy tried to find them, but their cries for help swirled with the building shadows, circling her and pressing in.
“Your own mother and father can hardly even look at you!” the shadow shouted. “You are nothing but a reminder of what they lost!”
Dark thoughts invaded Wendy’s mind. The closed door to her old room. The muffled sound of her mother crying in the bathroom. The reek of alcohol coming off her father as he slumped over his desk. Wind whipped through her hair, which slapped against her cheeks.
“John and Michael were killed because of you, Wendy Darling.” The words struck her like a kick in the gut. Wendy staggered.
Under the haunting voices, Wendy could still hear Ashley’s and Benjamin’s voices calling to her. Through the swarm of shadows circling her, she could barely make them out. The cage was beginning to fade, the bars quivering and thinning as the shadows were sucked into the smoky vortex around her.
The shadows were converging, forgetting about the trapped kids in order to rain horrors—terrible memories and the cries of John and Michael—down on Wendy. She watched as the kids tugged on the bars. Matthew had nearly gotten himself through, closely followed by Joel.
Good—if the shadows were distracted enough by her, then maybe the kids could run away. The thought gave her a small swell of determination. Wendy’s body shook violently, she was hardly able to stay on her feet. She could feel the shadows closing in now. Could feel them pooling at her feet and winding around her legs. Could feel them filling the gaping void in her chest.
“Give up, Wendy.” The words echoed through her mind. The shadows clawed at the base of her throat.
Wendy tried to reach out for more happy memories as bad thoughts struck her in a barrage. She thought of the waterfall and the lagoon. She thought of Peter’s dimpled smile, the drip of water hanging from the tip of his nose.
She made herself think of breakfasts when she was little. Of her and her brothers plunging their fingers into a bowl of pancake batter as her mother laughed in front of the stove. Of her father chasing them around the backyard on cool autumn days.
The ground quaked beneath her feet. The wind slapped her cheeks and pulled her hair. Wendy curled against it. Terrible screams filled her ears. The shadows vibrated against her skin. They were unrelenting. Through the swarm of darkness, she could see the last remnants of the cage fall away, could just make out the children being freed before everything plunged into darkness.
The images of her murdered brothers cascaded over Wendy. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks. The voices in her head roared.
Gone. Dead. Murdered. Your fault. Your fault. YOUR FAULT.
Wendy tried to hold on to the memory of her brothers lying on their backs—not on the cold snowy ground, but in their backyard on prickly grass as they stared up at the stars on a clear summer night. She held on to the memory of her parents sitting on lawn chairs and drinking lemonade as she and her brothers ran through the sprinklers.
Wendy remembered Michael careening into her chest. She stumbled back a step. She could practically feel it, his tiny body running into hers, his small arms wrapping around her middle. Wendy felt another thump, this time against her back. John, joining in the embrace.
A sob bucked in Wendy’s chest. She could remember it. She could practically feel them holding on tight. John’s face tucked against her shoulder. Michael’s downy hair under her fingertips. The sensations were so real.
Too real.
Wendy opened her eyes.
The shadows continued to swirl and screech, but—
She looked down. Wendy’s fingers laced through soft brown curls. A jolt shot through her. Michael? His arms were locked tightly around her, his head tucked against her side.
Tears swelled in Wendy’s eyes, blurring her vision as her hand cradled the top of his head. From behind, arms encircled her waist, holding on tight.
John? Blindly, Wendy reached back, trying to grip his side.
Electricity ran through her body as she tried to hold on to them, to drag them closer even though their grip on her was so tight, she could hardly take a full breath.
Wendy’s hands scrambled for a tighter hold. They were alive. Her fingers caught the back of Michael’s thick hoodie—
She froze.
His … hoodie?
Wendy looked down, squinting against the battering wind.
A blue hoodie that nearly swallowed him whole.
She realized there were more than two of them. Wendy stood surrounded by quaking bodies, encircled by desperate hands and arms. Benjamin, Ashley, and Matthew huddled against Wendy, their backs to the howling shadows.
Joel, not John, braced himself against her back.
It was
n’t Michael hugging her, but Alex, terrified and trembling.
The cage had weakened, and they had broken out. They’d escaped, and, instead of running away, they’d run to Wendy. They were trying to protect her.
They were trying to keep her safe.
Before her, the shadow contorted and howled. It swelled and grew.
Wendy was afraid, but she wasn’t giving up. Peter had said that in order to stop the shadow, she needed to reattach it to him.
The tree shook as the cruel version of Peter morphed into a mass of twisting shadows and claws.
She’d done it before, she’d do it again.
The shadow sprang forward. A gaping mouth formed at its center, revealing sharp white teeth as long as fingers, protruding in jagged angles.
Arms splintered and lashed out at Wendy, ensnaring her arms and grabbing at the children. But Wendy grabbed back.
She snatched the sticky tendrils, wrenching them from the children and gathering them in her fists. Gritting her teeth, Wendy tugged hard.
The shadow flickered, its distorted face almost looking surprised.
“I’m putting you back where you belong!” Wendy shouted.
The shadow’s cavernous mouth opened wide and let out a roar that shook Wendy’s bones, but she didn’t back down. Quickly, she coiled the ends of the shadow in her hands, reaching and pulling.
Everything shifted. The shadows that had ensnared Wendy were now trying to wrench free of her hold. They jerked Wendy forward, but she refused to let go.
Suddenly, there were more hands. Joel, Matthew, Benjamin, Ashley, even little Alex—they gathered fistfuls of the shadow, trying to help her reel it in.
The wretched creature collapsed on the ground.
“Don’t let go!” Wendy shouted. The children scrambled, tugging and pulling as the shadow stretched.
But it was growing weak. It began to shrink and turn sinewy in her hands.
Tendrils reached out for the base of the tree. Claws dragged at the earth, trying to slip between gnarled roots. It was trying to run away.