[Neverwood Chronicles 01.0] Lost Girl

by Chanda Hahn

  “I was able to grab this little fellow,” Dr. Mee said. “He was the only one in the nursery. The others were gone. I don’t know how this little one got passed up.” She pulled back the blanket and showed Dr. Barrie the infant, who started to cry when his face was exposed to the cold air.

  Dr. Barrie considered the number of kids surrounding him—so many less than he had hoped. He looked back at the burning building and he fell to his knees, overcome with guilt. “We failed. We didn’t save them.” He pitched forward, his hands burrowing into the dirt.

  “Shh, you saved them.” Dr. Mee turned and gestured to the group of children, standing scared and huddled together for warmth.

  “God will never forgive me,” he cried out. He pulled himself up and turned to wrap his arms around the nearest boys. “I promise you, I will take care of you forever. I’ll build a haven for you where you’ll be safe, where you will be accepted…as God is my witness.”

  “Mr. Barrie?” One of the technicians came up with his flashlight. “We need to get to the boat. We need to get the children to safety before the Red Skulls find us.”

  “Yes, yes you’re right.” He gestured for the boys and Wendy to follow. “Come, children. Quickly, to the boat.”

  Wendy’s lungs burned. She kept coughing and trying to catch her breath as they ran barefoot into the night, heading toward the shoreline. They were trying to be quiet as they ran, but she heard crying and whimpering from the boys as she followed the glimpses of white and blue pajamas in the darkness. She lost Gray as they were running, and she couldn’t see Teddy no matter how hard she searched.

  She tried to focus on following the others, but then she heard something crashing through the darkness behind her. Fear of the unknown caused her to look over her shoulder, and she tripped. Wendy let out a terrified scream as she slid down an embankment.

  “Over here, I heard something.” A male voice called out from above.

  The Red Skulls!

  She pressed her body against the hill and hid under the fronds of an overhanging bush. A flashlight beam passed over the exact spot she had vacated seconds before. Her hands flew to her mouth and tried to stifle her frantic breaths.

  The loud crashing continued, but was moving farther away. Then she heard a shout in the distance as the Red Skulls spotted and began to pursue the others. She leapt up and tried to run after her group, but now she was behind the Red Skulls. There were no paths to follow. Just forest and the sound of the ocean.

  She jogged as quietly as she could and tried to head toward the shore. The ground under her feet became softer. She must be getting close to the beach, just a little farther. Then six shots echoed in the night, her heart thudded in dread with every single one. Her legs pumped harder as she tried to catch up to the others. Hoping that she wouldn’t be too late.

  One second she was surrounded by trees, the next Wendy stumbled onto the beach and the ocean loomed before her.

  Farther ahead, she saw a yacht moored to a dock and Wendy didn’t stop running until her feet thudded on the wood. She slowed when she recognized Dr. Barrie standing at the edge of the dock, looking into the water. He tucked something into the back of his pants and leaned down to toss the lines to cast off. Dr. Barrie’s shirt was ripped, like he had been in a struggle.

  “The Red Skulls are here!” Wendy tried to warn him.

  “I know.” He turned his head toward the edge of the dock. “More will come.”

  A large objected floated in the water, catching her eye. It bobbed once, then twice, before sinking into the dark depths of the water—a body. She looked behind her and spotted a second Red Skull unmoving in the sand; he looked like he was sleeping, except for the splash of red across his chest.

  So much death.

  “Isabelle, tell them to start the engine,” Dr. Barrie yelled to a young girl who peeked out of the bridge. He turned, and she saw the handle of a pistol in his waistband. Wendy’s heart stuttered, but she willed it to slow. To trust. Dr. Barrie was on their side—one of the good guys, one of the guys risking everything. The engine turned over, and the white yacht pulled away from shore, picking up speed. The children stood at the stern by the rails and watched the beach light up with flashlights followed by a spattering of gunshots from the shore. Some ricocheted off the boat.

  Wendy screamed and took cover. Another engine roared nearby, and she realized where the other Red Skulls had gone. A military speedboat raced down the coastline toward them.

  “Jax!” Dr. Barrie yelled toward Gray, who was shivering in the night.

  “Yes sir,” he said, looking up at Dr. Barrie with wide alarm-filled eyes.

  “I need you, son.” He touched Gray gently on the arm. “I know what you can do. I’ve seen your reports. Can you do it again…once more…for me?”

  Jax shook his head in defiance, and Dr. Barrie’s face crumbled. “I know. It’s not fair of me to ask, but if you don’t, we’re going to die…all of us.”

  Jax looked back at the speedboat now gaining on their slower moving yacht, doubt evident in his face.

  “No, Barrie,” Dr. Mee called when she overheard what he was trying to do. She still held the baby close to her chest. “Not fear. That one is motivated by anger.”

  “But he can do it?” He looked at Dr. Mee with hope in his eyes. “He’s done it?”

  She nodded her head. “He’s done it once…and only once.”

  “Okay, son, do this for me tonight, and I swear I’ll never ask you to use your gift again.” Jax hesitated. “They’re not going to take us prisoner, Jax. We’re disposable to them. You’re the only one who can stop them now. If you don’t, everyone on this boat will die.”

  Jax looked over Dr. Barrie’s shoulder. As the boat pulled up beside them, the soldiers turned their guns on the yacht and opened fire.

  Ping. Ping. The bullets hit railings and the sides—some found their marks, and voices screamed in pain.

  “Quick! In here!” The same young girl with white-blonde hair came down a ladder and opened the door to the main living deck. She gestured for the boys to take cover inside.

  “Isabelle, stay inside!” Dr. Barrie shouted.

  There was a mad rush as the boys ran and pushed to avoid being hit by the bullets. The yacht bounced as it tried to fight the waves, to evade the attack of the Red Skulls. Wendy darted across the deck, but the yacht turned and her feet slipped from beneath her. She slipped under the guard rail just as the boat tipped on a tall wave, and she slid over the edge, just barely clawing and catching the rail post. She screamed and clung for her life.

  “I got you.” A boy rushed forward and grabbed ahold of her arm, struggling to pull her back onto the rocking ship.

  “Don’t let go!” Bright green eyes—was she hallucinating again?

  “Boy!”

  He grunted as he held tight, trying to lift her dead weight.

  The Red Skulls fired, another stream of bullets sprayed the boat.

  The boy cried out as one hit him square in the chest, and a splattering of blood hit Wendy’s cheek. His grip loosened just as her own gave out, and she screamed in terror as she fell below the crashing waves of the relentless ocean.

  Dr. Barrie and Jax spun at the scream, in time to see Peter hit by the bullets, to know someone fell into the ocean. One glance at Jax’s determined face told Dr. Barrie what was coming.

  Jax stood, hands clenched at his sides and shaking with rage. A primal roar tore from his mouth, all of his anger focused on the Red Skulls’ boat. His right hand came up, glowing red with power.

  The boat exploded outward, and flaming pieces of wreckage rained down around them. Even though Peter was bleeding, he tried to go over the rail and dive into the water after whoever had fallen in.

  Isabelle ran onto the deck as Dr. Barrie shouted after her, grabbed the boy around the waist, and pulled him back over the rail.

  “NOOO!” Peter screamed when he couldn’t go after her.

  “Stop! You’re wounded.” Isabelle ye
lled.

  Dr. Barrie joined her, but it took every ounce of strength they had to drag him back onto the deck and over to the galley. He pulled a kitchen towel off the counter and placed it against Peter’s chest.

  “It’s suicide to go back out there,” Isabelle said.

  “I can still save her. Let me go!” The boy pushed her away and tried to fight.

  “It’s too late. We can’t go back.” One of the male nurses came to her rescue with a first aid kit from the head.

  “No,” he rasped out between clenched teeth as he fought for his own life. “I can save—”

  A voice cried out from the water.

  Dr. Barrie rushed to the railing and looked over, Jax still standing there in furious silence. A head bobbed from the side as a Red Skull began to climb aboard, his hand pointing a gun right into his face. Barrie heard the gun cock. He swallowed his fear and stared down the barrel of the gun.

  The Red Skull never had a chance to pull the trigger. He erupted into a ball of flames and fell backward into the turbulent waves.

  Dr. Barrie released his breath and felt his heart collapse with guilt and gratitude as he looked over at the young boy, who’d just ruthlessly murdered to save him. Jax wouldn’t look at him, instead choosing to watch the burning boat slowly sink into the water. Dr. Barrie knew it wouldn’t be the end.

  He and his crew would be hunted for the rest of his life.

  Neverland would never let them escape. His gaze turned back to the island—then toward Jax.

  “Jax, dear boy.” He held his arm open to the young boy who was staring at the devastation he caused. “One more time. We can never let what happened on Neverland be duplicated. Can you do it again?” He pointed to the facility. To Neverland. The fire might not reach the lower levels, and they needed everything erased.

  Jax’s face was streaked with tears, but he didn’t need more urging. He closed his eyes, his hand reached toward the facility. The entire brick building exploded outward, the sky so bright with flames that it looked like morning.

  “Goodbye, Neverland.” Dr. Barrie spoke quietly. “You promised dreams, but you only brought us nightmares.” He gave Jax’s shoulder a slight squeeze and offered the boy words of affirmation. “You did good, son. You did good.”

  Jax looked up at him, horrified. “I’m not your son.” He shrugged Dr. Barrie’s arm off and stormed into the cabin.

  “Sir, the yacht’s navigation system is down. I don’t know where to go,” one of his newer lab technicians whispered in his ear. “How do you own a five million dollar yacht without navigation?”

  “It’s a requirement of working here. No one is allowed to know where Neverland is, not even us.” Dr. Barrie admitted.

  “How do we get back to land?” He looked absolutely bewildered. He had come to the island like the rest of them, blindfolded.

  Dr. Barrie grabbed his shoulder and pointed into the night sky. “Do you see that bright star there?”

  “Yes?”

  “Count over two. You see? Follow the second on the right, and sail straight on till morning. ” He patted the technician’s shoulder encouragingly.

  “I’ve never sailed by the stars before.” The man looked unsure.

  “That’s the problem with your generation. Let me tell you, boy. You’ll have quite the story…if we live to tell anyone about it.”

  His young technician smiled worriedly and headed back to the engine room.

  Dr. Barrie turned back to assess his circumstances—the boat filled with boys, his daughter Isabelle tending to Peter, who was covered in blood, his face a mask of agony. Peter hadn’t left the island. He must have stayed close by for a reason.

  They were helpless unless they could get to the mainland, to a real hospital. Dr. Mee, who seemed very calm and collected amidst the chaos, was holding the young baby while sitting next to Jax, trying to comfort him.

  Jax—the utter destruction he’d caused—all because Dr. Barrie had asked it of him. He’d just made the twelve-year-old a murderer. He only hoped he hadn’t permanently scarred the boy, who was even now beginning to retreat behind a stone-faced mask of indifference. A ploy, a trick to protect himself from what he had just done.

  The baby in Dr. Mee’s arms made a slight cry.

  A second later the baby disappeared with a flash of light and reappeared in Jax’s lap. Jax’s face went white with shock, and he almost dropped the baby, but caught him at the last minute. He held the small infant in his arms, looking very uncomfortable, but the baby just cooed and laughed, putting his chubby little fist into Jax’s face. Jax tried to hold back the chuckle and looked around to see if anyone had noticed his slip.

  “Well,” Dr. Barrie thought to himself. “Maybe there’s hope after all.” He looked around for the young girl, surprised that he couldn’t find her.

  “Where’s the girl? She was just here.”

  Peter’s eyes were red rimmed, and he grimaced in pain, mumbling the words over and over. “Lost…I lost her…Lost girl.” His head fell back against Isabelle’s shoulder and he passed out.

  Water.

  Cold.

  Blackness.

  Sand.

  Air.

  Life.

  Wendy coughed, her lungs expelling black water. She rolled over and found herself on a rocky coastline, shivering, freezing, and covered in seaweed. Seagulls called to each other, and one picked at something in Wendy’s hair before flying away. Her eyes stung from the salt, and it was easier to keep them closed.

  “George, there’s something over here,” a woman’s distressed voice called. It sounded sweet and loving, and it was drawing nearer.

  “Stay back, Mary,” a man’s voice warned. “Oh, Lord, it’s a child.” A warm hand touched her throat, then her wrist. “Call 911. She’s still alive.”

  Wendy cracked her eye open—just a slit.

  “George, hand me your sweater.” Mary commanded the boy next to her. “We’ve got to get her warm. You too, John.”

  Wendy felt something soft wrap around her freezing body as the commanding woman’s voice comforted her. “I’ve got you darling, I’ve got you. I’m not letting you go. I promise.” For the first time in forever…she felt safe.

  Chapter Seven

  PRESENT DAY

  She awoke with a gasp, her heart thudding, the blood beating in her own ears like the school’s drum line. Coated in sweat, she laid her head back down on her pillow and tried to remember her dream, but it was already fading into nothingness. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t recall even the faintest of details.

  Just fire and water.

  Nights were the worst. Especially those moments where she was almost-asleep-but-not-quite-awake, where she could get lost in the nether region of her dreams. There in that abyss, she was suddenly limitless—unafraid, unstoppable, all-powerful like a super hero—in a world without the constraints of time or space. Until the nightmares started about a fire, shadows, and water.

  Thud! Something hit her window frame and shattered her reverie. Wendy was once again a mere seventeen-year-old, scared and vulnerable. Coldness permeated her semi-dark room, sending goose bumps across her arms and perpetuating the feeling that she was being watched…hunted.

  Wendy sat frozen in her own bed and stared in terror at the shadow moving on the wall. She berated herself for leaving the curtains open and leapt toward the window to close them. Her heart beat loudly in her chest as she scanned her room for movement.

  Nothing.

  She heard a soft clicking noise and a ringing. Gathering her courage, she pulled open one white curtain—just an inch—and looked outside to see what the noise was. The front yard was empty. Just as quickly, she let the curtain fall back in place, the clinking of the metal rings against the rod making her already frayed nerves worse.

  The medicine she’d been on hadn’t been working as well as she’d hoped. She took the orange bottle labeled Clozapine from her dresser drawer and shook the white pill into her palm. Somet
hing her doctor had prescribed to help with her “momentary spells,” as her adoptive mother called them.

  No. She didn’t want this. She put the pill back in the container and shut it back in her drawer.

  Mary and George Owen, with their young son John, had found her washed up on a beach, half-dead and with no recollection of where she’d been or what had happened to her. She knew only her name. That family didn’t give up on her: they paid for her hospital care, and when no one came forward to claim her, they fostered her until they were able to officially adopt her. That had been a blissful seven years ago, and other than the vivid nightmares and the occasional hallucinations, she had been able to lead a normal teenage life.

  Too wired to sleep, she left her room and tiptoed down the hall to check on her sixteen-year-old brother. John was splayed across his bed, one foot sticking out from the covers and dangling off the mattress. Undisturbed, he slept. Not plagued by her malady or fears.

  Out of habit, she crossed his bedroom and closed his blue curtains, cutting off the moonlight. The rest of the house was next. She checked all the doors and locks before heading back to her room.

  Not once did she hear the ringing again, but the beeping was another matter. She tried to follow the sound, but it seemed to be coming from outside the house. Her mouth was dry with fear.

  It was probably only a handheld video game that John had left on, and the battery was slowly dying.

  Dressed only in her long nightshirt and shorts, she went to the back kitchen door, where the sound seemed to get progressively faster the closer she got to the door. The thud-thud-thud of her heartbeat kept pace with the beep-beep-beep of the noise. Slowly—painfully slowly—she unlocked the deadbolt and pressed her ear to the door.

  The noise was just on the other side of the door.