by Thomas Hayes
Chapter Eight
After walking through the woods for a short while, Peter and I came upon a set of train tracks. They cut through the dark forest and went on for miles in each direction.
“Here we are,” Peter said. “Now, we just follow this till we reach the bridge.”
“What’s with the train tracks?” I asked. “I thought we were after pirates. What are pirates doing in the middle of the woods?”
“Well, they still call themselves pirates, even though they aren’t anymore. They’ve moved on to robbing trains. They really should call themselves train robbers, but old habits die hard, I guess.”
“So they’re gonna be on land, then.”
“Yes. They can’t sail anymore. Can’t even go near the ocean. Because of all of Hook’s mechanical parts. The salt water, the salt in the air—it causes him to go cla-fooey. He can’t even function. So, they’ve stopped sailing the seas, and now they’re stuck on land. But they’ve learned that robbing trains is even more lucrative than robbing ships.”
I heard a train whistle in the air, close by.
“Shoot,” Peter said. “Come on, we gotta pick it up. Our hiding spot is up ahead.”
Peter ran through the woods, so I did, too, and soon we reached a train bridge, running from the edge of the forest, across a wide chasm, and over a river. Peter looked around, nervous, and then ducked behind a massive wall of briars, right before the first plank of the bridge.
I did the same as Peter—because what the heck else was I gonna do—and hid behind the brush. As I looked to my left, my stomach turned; the steep cliff was only a few feet away. One wrong step, and I could tumble off the edge and into the water, hundreds of feet below.
“Peter,” I said, dizzy. “Can we maybe move away from the bridge? Like a few feet back from the horrible cliff and certain death?”
“Hold on,” Peter said. “Look.”
On the other side of the bridge, the train tracks curved off into another forest. After a few seconds, I heard the sound of a whistle again, and then saw a bright train headlight emerge from the trees. It was moving quickly, and in no time at all, it was halfway across the bridge, heading toward us.
“That train is going pretty fast,” I said. “There’s no way it’s going to be stopping any time soon.”
“It’s gonna have to stop,” Peter said, “if the tip I got from my friend is correct.”
The train whistle blew again, louder, and then over and over, like the conductor was trying to tell someone—or something—to get out of his way.
“Duck,” Peter said, whispering. “Get down. They’re here.”
As Peter pulled me further behind the briars, I looked toward where he and I had come from. Standing on the train tracks, only fifty feet away from us, there was a whole crew of pirates, waiting in the night.
There must have been fifteen of them, of all various shapes and sizes. I could only see a faint glimpse of them because of the darkness, but then the train’s headlight shone on them. They were standing in silence, directly in the train’s path.
The train conductor blew his whistle even louder now, holding it down for seconds at a time, trying to get the pirates to move. But they stood tall and as still as statues, their hands on their hips, some of them brandishing swords.
“What are they doing?” I whispered. “Are they nuts?”
“Yes, very much so,” Peter replied.
Because the train’s whistle was so loud now, I had to cover my ears, and soon the noise grew unbearable as the train barreled past Peter and I. With only moments to spare, the train’s brakes finally kicked in, and the vehicle came to a screeching stop, its wheels sending up sparks.
When the vehicle was finally motionless, the pirates stepped forward and approached the train. As they got closer, I could see them clearly—filthy faces; unkempt beards; jackets and pants smeared with dirt and grease; faded pirate hats; some of them even had eye patches. Most of them were missing over 75% of their teeth.
One of the pirates—the tallest of the group—made his way through the lot and stomped toward the train. All of the other pirates moved out of his way and let him pass, as if he was very important, and soon he was standing directly in the front of the pack, with the others following him. I recognized him instantly from the picture.
“That’s Hook.”
“Shhhh,” Peter said, pulling me into the woods.
Frightened, I peered through the briars. Hook was even more bizarre-looking in person—a man that was more machine than anything else. The only part of him that I was 100% sure was human was the right half of his face; the rest of him was either covered by his black-and-red jacket, or made out of dull, dented metal. One of his arms—the one that didn’t end in a hook—was completely exposed, and also completely mechanical. It had round hinges at the elbows and wrist, and his bicep and shoulder were made from what looked like hundreds of metal pipes. When he moved the arm, the pipes moved in all different directions, and steam whistled from the joints. He was part man, part machine, all right—but the part that was machine looked primitive, like it was something a scientist would have made in the 1800’s.
“Smee,” Hook said. He turned toward the other pirates, and I could see his red, robotic eye shining in the dark. “Bring me my blade.”
Another pirate pushed his way through the crowd. He was short—maybe five feet tall—and round as a beach ball. He had a head of messy, brown hair, a belt that kept falling off his waist, and a pirate jacket that was five sizes too small for him. He looked more like someone who would own a cupcake bakery than a pirate.
“Here you go, sir,” Smee said, handing Hook a sword. “Would you like your pistol, too?”
“No, this’ll do fine. But have yours at the ready, and blast the conductor at the first sign of a move.” He looked toward the rest of the pirates. “Five of you, come with me. The rest, wait out here for my word. And be on the lookout for the coward in green.”
“Still no sign of Peter anywhere, Captain,” Smee said. “Not since you ran him through last time. We hear you might have finally done him in.”
“It’s possible, Smee,” Hook said, adjusting his robotic arm. “But even though Peter isn’t half the warrior he used to be, I’m trying to stay optimistic.”
Hook stomped up the train’s stairs, his metallic feet clanging. He ripped open the side door, stepped inside, and immediately shouted. “Ladies and gentlemen, Captain Hook is here! Aren’t you the lucky ones!” The passengers inside the train screamed.
“Hold my hand,” Peter said. He must have noticed how much it was shaking. “It’s okay. Don’t be afraid. I promised you wouldn’t get hurt, remember?”
I looked back at the pirates on the tracks. Even though five of them plus Smee had entered the train, there were still at least ten standing in the darkness, brandishing their weapons.
“Well, I’m starting to not believe you, let’s put it that way. In fact, I’m starting to think this was the worst decision I ever made in my life.”
“I always keep my word.” Peter said, bringing his satchel to the front and rifling through it. “Especially to pretty girls.”
Ignoring Peter’s line, I watched as he retrieved something from the satchel. It looked like a thin stick, made of wood and painted black, but glistening as if it was covered by stars.
“What’s that?”
“A magic wand. Lent to me by a witch.”
“A witch?”
“Yes, but a good witch, don’t worry. Magic is usually very hard to come by in Never Land—the closest thing we have to it are the fairies. But not lately—lately, the place is infested with witches and wizards, some of whom are traveling here from a faraway land. But that’s a story for another time. If the witch taught me right and I use this thing correctly, we should be just fine.”
Peter outstretched his arm and waved the wand over our heads, as if he was drawing a giant half circle. Then, there was a soft tingling sound, followed by my vision going wavy. When I blinke
d and opened my eyes again, everything seemed normal.
“Look at that,” Peter said. “The bloody thing worked.”
“What worked?”
Peter held my hand and walked out of our hiding spot, pulling me with him. We were now in sight of the pirates.
“Peter, what are you doing? You’re going to get us—”
“Look at our reflection.”
Bracing myself for the attacking pirates, I looked at the windows on the train. Amazingly, there wasn’t anybody in the reflection—all I could see was the forest behind us. It was like Peter and I were invisible.
“Guess I should have been more trustworthy of the witch,” Peter said. “We’re in a bubble right now—a magic bubble. As long as we stay inside, and stay together, no one will be able to see us. Now, come with me and let me show you what Hook is up to.”
Hesitant, I followed Peter up the train’s stairs and ducked my head as we entered the passenger car.
Once we were inside, I realized how small the train was. It wasn’t built for people the size of Peter and me—the ceilings were low, and the red-cushioned chairs were tiny. When I looked around, I discovered why—every single one of the passengers was about three feet tall. They were full-grown adults, dressed in hand-stitched clothes that made them look like they were from a fairytale. A few of them stood in the aisle, and the tallest was barely higher than my waist.
I also noticed how scared they were, and for good reason. Toward the front of the car, Hook stood with a smile across his face. Smee was with him, looking around with a sneer.
“Don’t you worry,” Hook shouted. “We won’t hurt you—as long as you do as we say. We aren’t here for any reason other than stealing all of your pretty little things.”
Hook leaned down and used his hook to rip a necklace off a woman. She shrieked and turned away.
“Have at it, men!” Hook laughed. Everything he said—loud and in a thick, British accent—made him sound like a villain from a terrible Broadway play. I would have laughed if he wasn’t so terrifying. “Take everything they’ve got, and if anyone even dares to look at you funny, take their damn head off.”
“Why are they doing this?” I asked, as the pirates made their way through the train, taking the wallets, pocketbooks, and jewelry of each passenger.
“Because it’s an opportunity to get even richer,” Peter replied. “This train is coming from the Island of the Babbles—the floating island you saw when we arrived. It was heading for a mermaid lagoon. Hook knew it would be full of people.”
“Where is the conductor?” Hook shouted, walking down the aisle. “I must speak to him, and tell him where to take us next.” He began calling out in a sing-songy voice. “Conductooooooor? Oh, Mr. Conductoooooor?”
The door at the front of the car opened, and the conductor walked in. Like the rest of the Babbles, he was no taller than three feet.
“Yes,” he said nervously. “I’m the conductor.”
“Ah, perfect.” Hook spun toward him. “Bring this train ahead, but do not go toward the mermaid lagoon. Instead, bring this train straight to the Island of the Pirates.” Hook looked back toward the passengers. “Now, where is your crew? They must be among here—we’ll have to take care of them and detain them, so they don’t try anything tricky.”
Hook waited for an answer, but none came. He turned back to the conductor.
“Well? Where is your crew?”
“Right there.”
“Where?”
“There.”
At the front of the passenger car, practically huddled in the corner, three small men stood, wearing the same uniform as the conductor. Two of them had long beards, but the other was around twenty years old, and about ready to pass out.
“This is your crew?”
“Yes.”
Hook stared at the crew a moment, and then his shoulders drooped. The smile disappeared from his face, and he hung his head. He lowered his sword.
“What’s the matter, Captain?” Smee asked.
“They don’t even have a crew, Smee. They don’t even have a crew. This isn’t fun anymore.”
Hook shook his head.
“Finish up,” he said, without looking. “Take whatever else they have and let’s get out of here.”
Quickly, and with much less glee, Hook’s pirates walked up and down the aisle, taking the rest of the valuables from the passengers. The pirates seemed to be taking a cue from their leader—he wasn’t enjoying himself anymore, so they weren’t, either. I watched as Hook stared at the ground, tapping his hook hand against his robotic hand. This was too easy for him; he wanted a challenge.
It was eerily quiet on the train for a few moments, as all that could be heard was the sounds of money and jewels being tossed into the pirates’ sacks. As I was about to ask Peter when we were going to get out of there and make our escape, there was a commotion.
At the back of the train, a pirate was struggling with a woman, trying to take off her bracelet. As she resisted, the rest of the train’s passengers and the pirates looked that way.
“Listen, you little twerp!” the pirate said. “Give me the damn bracelet before I cut your wrist off!”
The woman turned away and freed her arm, but the pirate grabbed her wrist again. Before he could take hold of the bracelet, though, the woman’s husband reached for a dinner knife in front of him and jabbed it into the pirate’s hand.
“Aaarrggghh!” he screamed, stumbling into the aisle. He held up his hand, the knife still sticking in it, blood dripping. He hunched over, trying to rip out the blade.
The other passengers began to panic, as the pirates dashed down the aisle. But, after only a few seconds, Hook spoke.
“Stop,” he said, watching the commotion. He deliberately made his way down the aisle. I knew what was about to happen: he was going to take out his anger over the disappointing robbery on the one person who dared to fight back.
“What is your name?” Hook asked.
“F-Frank,” the man said.
“And who are you, Frank, to think you can stand up to Captain Hook and his men?”
The man didn’t answer. He sat there, terrified, gripping his wife’s hand.
“I said,” Hook shouted, “who are you?” He reached down with his hook and looped it through one of the man’s suspenders.
“I’m not,” the man said. “I wasn’t…”
“You weren’t what?” Hook lifted the man out of his seat as if he weighed nothing. The man’s feet kicked in the air. “You weren’t fighting back? It sure looked an awful lot like he was fighting back to me, didn’t it, Mrs. Frank?”
The man’s wife didn’t answer. She looked up at her husband, fear over her face.
“We better do something,” I said to Peter. “You better do something.”
“I can’t,” Peter replied. “There’s nothing I can do. Hook’s unstoppable.”
“Unstoppable? Then why the hell did we—”
“Stop!” the man hanging from the hook shouted. “Stop! Please!”
I spun back to Hook. With the man dangling from his hand, he walked down the aisle toward his pirates. They were all brandishing their swords and grinning.
“What shall we do with him, men?” Hook bellowed. “How do we show Mr. Frank here what it’s like to tangle with the crew of Captain Hook? He wants to be a fighter—let’s see how much fight he’s got in him.”
The man kicked and screamed, trying to free himself, but he couldn’t remove the hook from his suspenders.
“We have to do something!” I said. “He’s going to kill that man!”
“No, he won’t,” Peter said. “That’s not like Hook. He’s only after me. He won’t hurt him.”
The pirates taunted the poor man with their swords.
“How do you know?” I asked. “You said yourself Hook’s insane—how do you know he won’t hurt him? You need to get out there and do something.”
“I can’t. No one can. Hook’s not a man that ca
n be beaten. Not anymore.”
“You said you used to beat him all the time!”
“Yes—I used to. But, now, I can’t do anything. Not with his magic.”
Hook opened one of the train’s windows. “Maybe we should let some of the boys outside have some fun with Mr. Frank, eh? What do you say?”
The pirates cheered. Hook extended his hand and let Frank dangle out the window, while Frank frantically tried to free himself.
“Peter,” I said. “You have to get out there. Isn’t that why you came here?”
“No, it’s not. I came here so I could show you what Hook is capable of. And now that I have, we’re leaving. I promised you I wouldn’t let you get hurt, remember? And I’m keeping that promise. Let’s go.”
Peter stepped toward the door, holding my hand.
“You’re just going to let that man get hurt?”
“They won’t do anything to him, they just want to frighten him. It’s what they do.”
“Are you willing to take that chance?”
Peter didn’t answer. I turned back to the man dangling out the window.
“Because I’m not.”
“No, Emily, you can’t—!”
But it was too late. I walked out of the bubble and into the train.
“Hey!” I shouted. The entire train gasped—shocked, I assumed, at the 17-year-old girl who had just appeared out of thin air.
“What is this?” Hook said softly. He turned toward me. “What on earth is this?”
I took a step forward and kept my eyes pinned on Hook. Slowly, reality started to hit me, but I did my best to pretend I wasn’t scared out of my mind.
“You got what you came for,” I said. “Now go. There’s no need for you to hurt these people.”
“No, you’re right,” Hook said with a grin. He pulled his hook back into the train and let Frank drop. “But I very much have a need to speak to you.”
All of Hook’s attention was now on me. He walked closer, smirking.
“You finished your robbery,” I said. “Get out of here. Before we call the police.”
“An American,” Hook said with a chuckle. “Well, that’s interesting.”
I thought about how Hook had been so disappointed with the crew.
“Are you really gonna use your pirates to beat up a bunch of people barely up to your waist? Isn’t that beneath you?”
Hook laughed. “Yes, it is. You’re absolutely right, young lady. Very much so. But, these days, I take what I can get, you know? A man’s got to get his thrills somewhere.”
“Well, get them somewhere else. There’s nothing left for you here.”
“Or else what?” Hook asked. He stopped only a few feet from me. “Are you going to do something about it, young lady?”
I looked up. Hook must have been six foot five—a whole foot taller than me. More and more, my adrenaline wore off. What was I thinking?
“Wherever did you come from, young lady?” Hook studied me, squinting. Then, he laughed through his nose and brought his hook-hand to my face, moving the hair away from my eyes. “Have you been on this train the entire time? If you had, we didn’t see you. I didn’t see you. And that could only mean one thing…”
Hook looked over my shoulder.
“Magic.”
Hook stepped around me and toward the bubble. I couldn’t see it, but I knew exactly where it was, and I knew Peter was still inside it. He hadn’t even come out to help me.
Hook stood in front of the bubble, waving his hand back and forth, feeling for it.
“And if there’s magic,” Hook said, “I know exactly why. I have a good sense for these things, you know, young lady. It’s part of who I am. And because of that, it’s fairly easy for me to suss it out.”
Hook thrust his hand forward. It disappeared into thin air—straight into the bubble. The passengers gasped.
“Oh, Peter,” Hook said, singing his name. He waved his arm around, reaching inside. “Come out, come out, wherever you are. Why don’t you introduce me to your new friend? I can’t believe you would bring her all the way here from America and not want to introduce me.”
Hook reached around some more, but then pulled his hand back.
“Okay, that’s fine. I know you aren’t the warrior you once were. I understand. What’s the name everyone is calling you now? ‘The Coward Peter Pan?’ I didn’t want to believe it, I didn’t want to believe that was true, that my greatest adversary was now a coward, but if you’re going to endanger innocent people…”
Hook grabbed my wrist, pulling me close. I shouted and tried to get away, but his grip was too strong.
“If you’re going to bring new friends here and put their lives in danger without even doing anything about it,” Hook said, “then you really must be a coward.”
Hook waited. Nobody on the train said anything—I’m not sure if anyone was even breathing. I know I wasn’t. I tried to ignore my fear, and especially the pain in my wrist from Hook’s metal fingers. It was so silent, the only sound I could hear was the gears inside his arm and the steam sputtering out. It was rhythmic and metallic, like the inside of a factory.
Then, the air in front of us rippled, and Peter stepped out of the bubble. The passengers gasped again, and so did I—not because I was surprised to see Peter, but because of how afraid he looked. He was trying to hide it, but I could tell he was nervous. Suddenly, I wasn’t very confident in my rescuer.
Hook, however, was thrilled. “Oh, it is him! The Coward Peter Pan, ladies and gentlemen! He’s here! Why, I was starting to believe the rumors that you’d left Never Land again! Or that I’d finally finished you off!”
Hook let go of me and stomped toward Peter. Clearly, I wasn’t of any concern anymore. The only person on the train the pirates cared about was Peter.
“Let her go,” Peter said, his voice wavering. “It’s not her you want. It’s me.”
Hook thought it over for a second. “Okay.” He turned toward me. “You’re free to go. Step off the train. I’ll make sure none of my men hurt you. I can even have one of them walk you to the nearest village if you’d like. Because he’s right. It’s not you I want.”
He turned back to Peter.
“It’s the Coward Peter Pan. I just have to find out if what they say about you is true. I just have to find out if my old friend Peter Pan is no longer up for our little sparring matches.”
Peter stared at Hook, but he talked to me. “Get out of here, Emily. Go. Get back to the village of the Lost Boys the way we came. I’ll deal with this.”
For reasons I’m still not sure, I stayed put. I didn’t move. I stood there behind Hook, watching the confrontation.
“Are you using magic now, Peter?” Hook asked. “I mean, I know I have embraced Never Land’s newfound magic, and it’s wonderful, but I never thought you would embrace witchcraft. You must be even less confident than I thought.”
Peter kept his eyes on Hook. “Are you staying, Emily?” he asked. “You don’t have to. You can leave. But are you staying?”
I didn’t answer.
“Okay then.” Peter smirked. Suddenly, he became more confident. Whether or not he was faking it, I don’t know. But there was a definite change in him once he realized I wasn’t leaving.
“I’m only dabbling in magic,” Peter said. “Here and there. I use these invisible bubbles to spy on the mermaids, that kind of thing. But I don’t need it to fight old, broken-down goats like you.”
“Oh, really?” Hook said. “I think you might.” His robotic eye flashed red, and then a blast of red energy burst from his hook. It smashed into Peter and sent him flying backwards across the train.
“You see, magic is truly a wonderful gift, Peter,” Hook said, stomping toward him. “It can even make age-old things like our little fights feel brand new again. Suddenly, you aren’t the only one who can fly and perform amazing, unexplainable feats.”
Hook unsheathed his pirate sword.
“But then again…a good
, old-fashioned sword can be a lot of fun, too.”
I watched Peter—he gripped the armrest of a chair and tried to stand, but then fell, still stunned. Realizing he was in no shape to take another blast, I looked around for some way I could help.
There was a tray of food to the right of me. Without giving it a second thought, I grabbed a bottle of wine, gripped it in my hand, and flung it at Hook. It CLANGED! against his metallic back and shattered, sending wine and broken glass flying.
Hook turned around, confused. He cocked an eyebrow.
“Was that you, young lady? Are you not what you seem? Are you not just a scared girl from America? Because I can revert you back to that, very quickly, if you need me to.”
Before I could answer, Hook screamed and stumbled forward. I saw Peter standing behind him, brandishing his sword. He was now cocky and ready for action. It seemed like he was no longer afraid. I hoped he wasn’t, for my sake.
“All that mechanical doo-hickery inside you,” Peter said, “and you’re still as dumb as ever. Turning your back on me? Really, Hook? Maybe that witch and your little buddy Smee should have replaced your brain when they gave you your latest tune-up.”
Hook stood tall, holding his side. I realized Peter had slashed him in one of the few places that was still flesh.
“This is the Never Land I know,” Hook said, his mouth curling into a smile. “Oh, how happy I am that you’ve come to see me again, Peter. You can’t know how boring it has been without you.”
Hook screamed and brought his hook-hand slashing down, but Peter blocked it, sparks flying as the two weapons clashed. Hook then swung his sword with his other hand, but Peter hopped over it like it was a jump rope.
“Emily!” he shouted. “You can go now! Get out of here, as far away as you can!”
“Oh, no,” Hook said. “She’s got herself involved now, Peter. She’s decided she’ll be a part of our little story. And when you get involved with Captain Hook, as you well know, you are involved for life.”
I looked toward the door, but it was blocked by pirates.
“Men,” Hook said, ducking from a swing of Peter’s sword. “Grab her and make sure she doesn’t leave. I think I’ll show her around, after I get rid of the Coward Peter Pan.”
Smee and another pirate grabbed me, each one holding an arm. I was trapped, with no escape. I could smell the horrible stench of their clothes and their warm breath.
“Conductor!” Peter shouted, jumping onto a food cart. “Why don’t you get your passengers out of here? There’s a switch near you, isn’t there?”
The conductor looked to his right. There was a door there, along with an emergency alarm. He lunged forward and pulled it, and a shrieking siren blared through the train. At the same time, all of the doors flung open.
“Now’s our chance!” a Babble yelled. All at once, the passengers jumped up and stampeded down the aisle, rushing for the doors. The crowd overwhelmed Smee and the other pirate holding me, and they were forced to let go.
“Emily!” Peter yelled. He reached to his belt, grabbing the other sword that was hanging there. “Here!”
He threw the sword toward me and it tumbled through the air. I caught it, miraculously not gripping the blade. I held it in front of me.
“Now what?”
“Swing it and hopefully hit some pirates,” Peter replied.
I stared at the three pirates across from me.
“But I don’t know how to use a sword.”
“Well, you better learn.”