by Thomas Hayes
Chapter Seventeen
An hour later, I sat on a bench on Wes’ airship as we flew toward a dark island. The deck of the ship was filled with Natives, each of whom was equipped with weapons and leather armor. Many of them had their own spears and bows and arrows from the Island of the Natives, but some had taken swords from the Lost Boys’ village. There were also dozens of fairies fluttering around us, illuminating the ship with their colorful light.
Across from me, at the blimp’s railing, were Tiger Lily and Peter. Tiger Lily was pointing to where she thought we should bring the blimp in for a landing, and this time, Peter didn’t argue with her. On her belt, I saw a whip, and on her back, a quiver of arrows. She was such a sweet girl, and so beautiful, I couldn’t imagine her using those things.
Wes stood at the front of the blimp.
“Bring her down below the tree line,” he said to a Native, who was piloting the wheel. “And cut half the engines. We don’t want them to hear us coming.”
Wes turned to me. I had my arms crossed and was shaking my legs, nervous. He smiled.
“What?” I asked.
“I’m just surprised you’re coming with us, that’s all. Happily surprised.”
“It’s my brother. I have to.”
“Though I guess I really shouldn’t be surprised, after what Peter told me about you. The old you, I mean. Hopefully there’s some of that left in there. I wouldn’t wanna mess with you.”
I shrugged.
“I gotta say, you’re handling this awfully well.”
“I haven’t had much time to think about it, honestly.” I looked at the dark island. “I’m only able to focus on one thing right now.”
“Makes sense. But, if you have any questions, seriously, I’ll help you as much as I can.”
“That’s nice. Thanks.”
He looked at the sword on my belt.
“You gonna use that?” he smirked.
“Hopefully not. I’d most likely end up hurting myself way more than anyone else, anyway.”
“I doubt that. I think you’d do just fine.”
Wes held a black crossbow in his hands.
“You gonna use that?” I asked.
“If I have to.” He loaded an arrow into it. “Explosive-tipped. Nice little piece of work by the Lost Boys.” He turned to Peter and Tiger Lily. “What do you say, Peter, you ready?”
“Absolutely. It’s a beautiful night to face death right in her bloody eyes, don’t you think? Isn’t this what you came here for?”
“Just about. I’ve been itching for a good fight for a while.”
“Oh, please,” Tiger Lily said, rolling her eyes. “You boys are pathetic. Could you try a little harder to sound like big tough guys? What do you weigh together, 200 pounds?”
“Hey, that’s 200 pounds you better hope is capable of fighting off about five dozen pirates,” Peter said.
“I know, but tone down the false bravado a bit please, will you? It’s making me ill.”
“Aw, a little false bravado never hurt anybody,” Peter said. “Right, Emily?”
“I don’t know. I can’t even muster up false bravado at this point. I’m just hoping I’ll be able to stand.”
The others laughed.
“Well, you’re gonna have to stand right about now, I’m afraid,” Wes said. “We’re here.”
I looked down. We had reached the island. It was clear there was a settlement in the center of it: above the trees in that area, I could see light, and also hear raucous noise. However, in the beachy area we were landing, it was dark and quiet—deserted.
“Help me toss the canoes off the side,” Peter said to the Lost Boys. “And tie them to the palm trees. We’re gonna need a lot of them, depending on how many captured Neverlanders there are.”
As the Lost Boys tied up the canoes, Peter, Wes, Tiger Lily and I walked off the shore and into the forest.
“It’ll be a while before we reach Hook’s town,” Peter said. “We’re gonna have to trek through these woods for a while.”
“This town is home to the biggest train station in Never Land,” Tiger Lily said. “Hook took it over when he came back. It’s a far cry from his old headquarters right on the ocean.”
“Anyone have any idea what we’re gonna face when we get there?” Wes asked. I knew part of Peter’s plan was to simply walk into town and ask for Hook. “How many pirates are likely to be here now?”
“I’m not sure,” Tiger Lily said. “I would say hopefully we’ll catch them when they’re sleeping, but we all know pirates are usually too drunk to sleep.”
“Yeah,” Peter said. “And judging by the noise, they’re even more livelier than usual tonight.”
We walked through the dark forest for 30, maybe 40 minutes. Like Peter said, it took a long time, and it felt like an eternity, as I was getting more and more anxious, thinking about poor Tim, wherever he was.
Then, finally, light began to seep through the thinning trees, emanating from the center of the island, and I could hear joyous, upbeat music, and laughter.
Wes led the pack, walking up a hill. When he reached the top, he stopped.
“Holy crap.”
“What?” Peter asked.
I followed Peter up the hill. From the top, we could see a small town, down in the middle of a valley. It looked like it had once been a nice town, made of quaint brick buildings and wooden houses, but now it was run-down and demolished, thanks to the pirates. The centerpiece of the town was a massive, red-brick train station, with a big, broken, white clock at its top.
“They’re throwing a party,” Wes said. “In honor of you.”
“Me?” Peter asked. “It’s not my birthday.”
“No. It looks like they’re celebrating quite the opposite.”
Across the front of the train station, underneath the clock, there was a long banner, with red letters scrawled across it:
“R.I.P. Peter Pan! We’ll always remember our lovely little coward!”