Chapter Seven
Five minutes later, I followed Peter and walked briskly through the woods surrounding the Lost Boys’ village.
“Where are we going?” I asked, pushing a tree branch out of my way. “And who is this Hook?”
“I’m about to show you.” Peter adjusted the satchel criss-crossing his chest. Before we had left his treehouse, he had grabbed the satchel and a few other supplies—including two swords. The fact that he felt the need to take two swords especially made me nervous.
“Here,” he said. He pointed at a tree. It had a large, square sign nailed to it, with a warning written in red paint:
LOST BOY TERITOREY ENDS HERE.
DO NOT PASS THIS SIGN WITHOUT PERMISHON FROM MIKE.
Underneath the sign, there was another one, just a little bit smaller than the first. This one had an etching of a bearded man on it, scowling and wearing a large pirate hat. In red letters underneath the drawing, it said:
ANY SIGN OF HOOK, REPORT TO MIKE IMEEDEETLY.
“That’s him,” Peter said. “Captain Hook. The worst, most insane, most deranged pirate in all of Never Land.”
I stepped forward and looked closer at the drawing. This bearded pirate had a thick scar running down the middle of his face, and one of his eyes was pure white, without any pupil. It also seemed as if a piece of his jawbone was exposed, and his shoulder was made of metal armor. Whoever this guy was, I could only guess he had been mangled in some kind of accident.
“This is a pirate?” I asked. “He looks…strange.”
Peter retrieved a photograph from his satchel.
“Hook and I have been fighting each other for…I don’t even know how many years. A while back, right before I left Never Land, I thought I had finally beat him—in our most epic battle, on the deck of his ship, I landed the blow I had been waiting for my whole life, and sent him falling into the ocean. Waiting for him there was a crocodile who had been waiting just as long as me to finish the job and get rid of Hook for good.”
Peter handed me the photo. It was black and white, slightly blurry, and obviously taken with an old camera. It looked like pictures my mom had of my grandparents, from the 1960’s. Still, I could make out this Hook person, and see him in more detail than the sign. He had a mangy, black beard; long, black hair; and was dressed in an elaborate jacket, decorated with metals and large shoulder pads. There was a sword on his belt, similar to Peter’s, and on top of his head there was a three-cornered, black hat. He looked exactly like a pirate from a storybook or TV show, except he was standing—oddly enough—in front of a train.
But the train wasn’t the oddest thing about the photo—not even close. The scar on Hook’s face ran down from the center of his forehead, across his nose, and diagonally across his left cheek. It basically split his face into two sections: the larger section looked relatively normal, but the other part was made out of dingy, tarnished metal. The metal made up an entire cheek, half of his jawbone on the left side, his left eye socket, and half his forehead. The eye inside the metal part was clearly not his real eye—I could tell it was made of metal, and glowing with some sort of light.
Worst of all, whoever had done this work on his face clearly didn’t know what they were doing, or didn’t have the right tools. The area on his face where the skin met the metal was burnt and covered in blisters—infected, obviously, and painfully bubbled, as if the job of fusing the metal to his skin had only been half-finished.
“When he fell into the water and the croc got him, we all thought he was finally gone for good,” Peter said. “But obviously he wasn’t. Somehow, after we sailed away, his first mate—a weasly little mongrel named Smee—jumped in the water and saved him. None of us saw it, and we don’t know how, but Smee fought off the croc and managed to get the half-dead Captain Hook to shore.”
Peter shook his head, angry.
“Fat little pig,” he said. “First time in his life the little bugger showed any courage.”
I looked at the gruesome photo, my stomach turning. Looking away from Hook’s face, I realized one of his hands was, well, a hook. His other arm, though, was completely made out of the same metal as his face, as were both of his legs.
“He survived being attacked by a crocodile?” I asked. “How on earth could someone survive that, if he looked like this afterward?”
“Not sure,” Peter said. “From what we’ve heard, Smee and Hook’s pirates used every last ounce of technology they could get their hands on. But, that wasn’t the most important part—they also used magic, too. A witch helped them, from a faraway land. She helped them replace his limbs, half his face, and even, I’ve been told, some of his organs. He runs on steam, now—practically his entire body is steam-powered, like a train, or riverboat.”
I narrowed my eyes. Hook’s legs were even more mechanical than the rest of him. They were covered in gears and cogs, all interlocking with each other. The machinery looked mismatched and in different shapes and sizes, like they were cobbled together from several different sources.
“So he’s basically a machine.”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’d call it. Except the only thing they couldn’t fix was his brain. He’s more insane than ever. Which is saying something. He was already loony as a mad dog before. Now that he’s barely human, there’s no controlling him.”
I looked away from the picture. All of this was so bizarre, I could barely get my thoughts straight. Peter bringing us here—flying, seeing the floating islands, and the Lost Boys’ village—had been too much, and now I was supposed to listen to this mechanical pirate crazy talk, too?
I handed the photo to Peter. “And what does any of this have to do with me and my brother?”
“I need you to help me.”
“You need me to help you?”
“Yes. Specifically you.”
“With what?”
“Against Hook.”
I laughed at the stupidity of his answer. “You can fly. You fought off some kind of shadow demons with a sword. You live in a village with a few dozen seemingly insane boys who look ready to fight anything that comes near them. And I’m supposed to help you? How on earth could I help you?”
Peter looked down, embarrassed. “Hook’s…not what he used to be. Fighting him all these years, it was kind of fun, to be honest. Sometimes he and his pirates would win, most of the time I would win, and then we’d just do it all over again. He’d come up with some ridiculous scheme, I would stop him, and Never Land would celebrate. It was almost like a game.
“But now, since he returned…I can’t stop him. No one can. He’s too powerful, he’s no longer simply a man. I’ve tried and tried, and fought him over and over, but I can’t win. He wins every time. And when he does, he tries to kill me.”
Peter lifted his shirt. His chest was covered in scars and wounds, including one that was so fresh, the blood showed through the white bandage.
“Oh my god,” I said, covering my mouth.
“He’s insane,” Peter said. “And even more powerful than he is insane. Whatever Smee and the witch did to him, it’s made him—he has powers. Special powers, that he never had before. There’s magic involved now, magic that no one on Never Land knows how to deal with. Before this, I was the only one who could beat him, but now…no one can.”
Peter stared at the ground, waiting for me to answer. But I had no idea what to say. I had no reason to believe him—no reason to believe anything he said was real. I could be dreaming, the cafeteria food I had for lunch could have been tainted with E. coli or something—there were a million reasons to doubt everything I was seeing and hearing. But, yet, Peter looked so sad. So desperate. As he talked about this Hook person, he just looked defeated.
“Hook has my friends,” he said, not looking at me. “He’s had them for a few weeks now. I can’t save them. I can’t do anything. I need your help. I’ve tried everything. I wouldn’t do this—I woul
dn’t do this unless I thought it was absolutely necessary. And it is.”
I thought it over, watching Peter. “But why me?”
He looked up. “Because I’ve been watching you. On your world, I see the fire in your eyes—the same fire I used to have. The fire to fight and fight and win, when you really want something. I’ve seen how you are on the field during your hockey games—you do not stop until you win. You carry your whole team on your back and you inspire them to victory. You’re like me. That’s how I am. Or, at least, how I used to be, before all this.”
I laughed. “You think because I’m good at field hockey, because I’m basically obsessed with winning, that I can help you fight a pirate.”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“Playing field hockey and swinging a sword are a little bit more different than I think you realize.”
Peter stepped toward me. “No. It’s not about the game. It’s about the fire, the look that comes over your face when you’re faced with overwhelming odds. The look on your face when you know it’s time to either bring your team to victory or go home. I used to have that fire in me, too, but I lost it. I don’t know when, but I lost it, and I need you to help me get it back.”
I laughed and furrowed my brow. “You’re crazy. You’re a crazy person. You flew me to another world because you want me to use my field hockey skills in a pirate war? You’re a crazy person. Look, I’m not the person you need, I’m not.”
Peter stepped closer, his eyes locked on me. “You’re exactly the person I need. Whenever I go into adventure, I always have someone like you with me. I haven’t had that in a long time, and I think it’s what I’ve been missing. Whenever I go on adventures, I need someone like you.”
“What? A hockey player?”
“No. I need a…girl.”
The last word was so quiet I could barely hear it.
“What was that?”
“A girl. I need a girl.”
“A what?”
He looked up and laughed. “A girl, okay? I need a girl. To go on adventures with me. That’s what makes it fun—it’s not fun anymore. I think it’s what I’ve been missing, truly. I always have a girl with me—a girl like you, or like Wendy—whenever I face Hook. So I think if you help me, we will win.”
I wanted to go home. I would have rather been pretty much anywhere in the world than standing there in the woods with this bizarre boy dressed in brown and green.
“Look, I’m not gonna be able to help you. I’m not sure—I don’t think you realize, the world I’m from, it’s not like this one. I’m not like you people. I’m just a normal, high school girl. I don’t face the things you do, or fight pirates or live in the woods or whatever the hell else you do. You got the wrong person, and I think you should probably just take me and Tim home. Honestly. This isn’t—whatever you think is gonna happen, isn’t gonna happen.”
Peter held his hands up. “I get it. I do. But I’m desperate. I need to save my friends, and I’m willing to do anything. So, give me one last shot. Just come with me for ten minutes. I know where Hook is right now, and I know where he’s heading. Come with me, leave the village, and let me show you him in person. After that, if you still don’t wanna help, I’ll take you home, I promise.”
“You want me to go looking for this guy? What about Tim?”
“He’ll stay here with the Lost Boys. It’s the safest place for him, to be honest. Even us standing this far from the village, out in the open, is kind of stupid. We should either get moving, or head back. So what do you say?”
I thought it over.
“I just want to save my friends,” Peter said. “That’s all. I haven’t seen them in weeks. And I don’t know what’s happened to them, or what will happen to them. If you can help me, if you’re what I need…then I need to try again, with you.”
I sighed. “You promise I won’t be in any danger?”
He stood up straight and help up his hand. “I absolutely swear. I promise on the Lost Boys. As long as you stay with me, I’ll take you to see Hook, and we’ll never be in danger. Not once. Neither him or his pirates will even see us. We’ll go there for ten minutes, come back here, and then you can decide on what you want to do. Okay?”
I thought about it, then answered. Even as I said it, I couldn’t believe the word was coming out of my mouth.
“Okay.”
Peter clapped his hands and rubbed them together, a grin across his face.
“Yes!” he exclaimed. “Hot damn, I was hoping you were gonna say that! Let’s go on a bloody adventure. Yes!” He laughed loudly. “This is going to be bloody brilliant.”
“If you say so, but I swear, if we get into any trouble, or if anything happens to Tim, you’re gonna see that fire in my eyes you talked about. And it will be directed at you.”
“Nothing’s gonna happen,” Peter said, already heading into the woods. “Come on, we gotta make sure we’re on time. The train is passing through this way in just a few minutes.”
“The train?” I asked. As I walked deeper into the woods, I grew more unsure with every step that I had made the right decision to follow Peter. In fact, I had never been so unsure of anything in my entire life.