Chapter 28 - A Very Bad Girl
Billy held perfectly still, ears straining to catch the sound that had awakened him. Growing up on a pirate ship had taught him to sleep lightly, and he’d learned that lesson harder than any full grown man that sailed the seven seas. A boy, especially a colored one, on a ship was just too easy a target for men who had anything but Billy’s best interests in mind. His hand tightened on the hilt of the dagger beneath his pillow, wondering if he’d merely heard Mason tossing in his sleep. It wouldn’t be the first time a purely innocuous noise had awakened him, and it had truly been a long time since he’d feared a shipmate attacking him in his sleep… but a Lost Boy sneaking about the ship on a dare was bound to do anything.
He heard it again, a low creak of a hinge in need of a little oil, followed by a small hiss of someone afraid they’d made too much noise. Billy continued to feign sleep, knowing better than to tip his hand. After a few seconds, he heard a light rustle signifying the sneak had gone back to whatever he was doing. Billy eased his eyes open and looked towards the source of the sound, noticing immediately that the room was dimly lit by a small candle. He felt a small jolt of surprise when the faint illumination revealed that the sneak was none other than Peter Pan. He felt another jolt when he realized she was going through the weapons locker.
What are you after? he mused, immediately realizing the obvious answer to his stupid question. There wasn’t anything in that trunk but knives, swords, and guns. The real question was why did she want a weapon? What was she up to? He supposed if she was after a blade, then it was a very good thing he hadn’t given her that sword. There was no sense in making it easy for her to get her hands on a blade, not if she needed one this badly. Where the hell did she get the key to the locker? Only Hook and Smee have one. Billy wouldn’t have been terribly surprised if the girl had managed to talk the bosun into giving it to her, she’d always been able to charm the old coot into doing things, even as a boy.
Peter finally seemed to have found what she was looking for, a large dagger that was big enough to be useful, but not as awkward as a full sword. She smiled as she stood and tucked the blade into the sash about her waist. Billy closed his eyes when Pan glanced about the room one last time and he didn’t open them again until he heard her soft, bare feet pad away. Deciding to find out what the girl was up to before rousing the others, Billy slipped out of his hammock and followed her out onto the deck.
Peter suppressed a chuckle as she tiptoed past the snoring bosun, more out of habit than from any fear he’d wake up. She’d rummaged through every one of his pockets before finally finding the key to the weapons locker, and the most the man had stirred was to snort loudly and mutter something unintelligible to someone named Ethel. Giving Smee a fond wink and a nod of thanks, Peter crept to the dingy and stowed her small sack in the prow. Once it was lowered, she’d have to jump into the water and climb into the craft, and she didn’t want her belongings to get waterlogged or, worse, to sink. Fortunately she’d seen the pirates operate the davit enough to know how to lower the dingy, but she still worked the crank awkwardly, clumsily lowering the ship’s smallest boat to the briny.
This is too easy, she thought, smiling, when the craft was finally floating in the bay. Goodbye, Codfish, its been a real treat. I’ll come visit sometime. She swung a leg over the railing and sat straddling it for a moment, staring down at the water to gauge her plunge. It wouldn’t do to fall and hit the boat. Fortunately, the bright moonlight was enough for her to see the dingy in the water and ensure that her decent would be safe. She leaned over, intent on pulling her other leg over the railing and letting herself drop into the water, but something snagged her by her upper arm and jerked her backwards. Peter barely-stifled her cry as she fell onto the deck, and before she could react something heavy fell atop her, the heavy weight of a body settling on her thighs. Peter growled in defiance and lashed out with her fists, but her attacker’s hands grasped her by her wrists and pinned them to the deck on either side of her head. Snarling, Peter glared up at the dark boy leaning over her, only mildly surprised to see who it was.
“Shot and shale, Pan,” Billy growled down at the girl he was sitting on, “what do you think yer doin’?”
“Get off, Jukes,” Peter hissed angrily, struggling against the boy. He had a surprisingly strong grip on her arms, and no matter how much she bucked she couldn’t throw his weight from her legs. She had no idea how Jukes had managed to get the drop on her, but she’d be damned if she was going to let him prevent her from going home.
“No way, Pan, not if yer doin’ what I think yer doin,” Billy hissed back. He could feel her writhing beneath him and hid his smile, knowing he had the advantage. He was a lot stronger than she was, and he knew it. “Yer tryin’ to escape, aren’t you? Why? Why go back to those creatures, after everything they’ve done to you? They hurt us both and here you are tryin’ to slip away and go back.”
“Let me go, Billy, please,” Peter whispered, forcing herself to still and not fight. She didn’t like being held down like this, it was resonating too deeply with some of her newly recovered memories, but she focused on the boy’s shadowed face and tried to ignore the images of Liam, her uncle, Jonas… “Get OFF!!!!” her voice squeaked as she tried to keep quiet despite her building panic.
“Shh!” Billy hissed, glancing about the deck to make sure they were still alone – not counting the oblivious, snoring bosun. “Calm down, Miss Pan,” he murmured, eyes fastening on the door to Hook’s cabin. The man was a notorious insomniac and light sleeper – traits Billy suspected were the cause of his perpetual bad mood – and the gunner felt a cold fear that the captain might wake and investigate the small commotion. He’d rather stop Peter himself and talk some sense into her if he could. If Hook discovered what the girl was trying to do, his reaction would be far from pleasant. Billy didn’t want to see the girl harmed, not if he could prevent it. He’d actually considered returning to his hammock and pretending to be surprised in the morning when it was discovered that she was gone, but the thought of letting her escape had filled him with unexpected dismay. He didn’t want her to leave.
When Peter began struggling again, he tightened his hold and said a shade louder, “Quiet!” The girl began whimpering, the sound so unexpected and alarming that it forced the gunner to return his attention to her. “Please calm down, Peter. If you wake the Cap’n, he’ll string us both up – you for tryin’ to escape and me for manhandling a lady.”
The warning cut through the fog Peter’s fear, overcoming her haunting memories with a bigger, more immediate danger. She forced herself to stop moving and go lax, allowing Billy to hold her down. “Let me go, Mr. Jukes,” she demanded softly, considering her options and discarding half-formed plans she knew immediately wouldn’t work. “I have to go home.”
“This is your home now,” Billy replied, trying to make his voice sound reasonable. “We’ve been good to ya, haven’t we? We’ve tried to help ya, despite who you are, and despite the fact that every man on this ship’s had a good reason to hate you for a very long time. Those fairies made it clear they don’t want you anymore, so why go back?”
“I’m dying,” Peter answered simply and honestly, startling herself almost as much as she startled Billy. She’d known it before and thought she’d accepted it as fact, but telling Billy Jukes that she was going to die somehow made it even more real and immediate. It scared her.
“What?” Billy asked, caught off guard by that answer. Unconsciously he relaxed his grip on the girl’s wrists, and it was all the opening Peter needed. Reacting more on instinct than thought, the girl wrenched her arms free and sat up, shoving the boy backwards as she rose. Once she was more upright her fists swung, catching the boy across the cheek with a left even as her right drove into his gut, knocking the air from his lungs in a sudden rush. Billy fell aside, dazed and his vision swimming.
Peter didn’t waste a single moment. As soon as Jukes’s weight was gone she jumped to her feet, dismissing him from her mind. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him, but she knew that he’d be fine – maybe a little bruised. Without another moment’s hesitation, Peter ran for the railing, leaping atop and over it in the space of a heartbeat, afraid to pause for fear that Billy might recover sooner than she anticipated. For the space of a second she felt herself falling, her skirts billowing around her as she plummeted, and then cold, dark water encased her body.
Free! She thought exultantly, her head breaking the surface. Free, but not safe. Keep moving! Jukes will rouse the ship! There was no turning back now; it was either escape or die trying. She knew Hook, and she knew that if he foiled her escape attempt she’d likely never get another chance to try again. If he didn’t outright kill her, he’d confine her as he’d done in the early days of her captivity. Getting away after that would become almost impossible, unless her friends came to rescue her.
She swam for the dingy and pulled herself into it, mindful of how precious little time she had. She managed to untie the boat and had barely begun to row when she heard the gunner’s ragged call of “Pan overboard, she’s escaping!” The ship’s bell began to clang wildly a moment later and Peter pulled the oars for all she was worth, praying she had enough of a head start and intending to make every moment count. So much for my clean getaway.
She tricked me! Billy fumed angrily as he continued to yank the bell rope. I tried to help her and she sucker punched me! She’s a traitor! I trusted her! “Pan overboard!” he yelled again, ignoring the aches in his jaw and belly as he drew another gasping breath. Smee was awake at last, confused and panicked as he tried to figure out what the alarm was for. Blithering idiot, Jukes thought caustically, knowing that if the bosun hadn’t been asleep on his watch then Peter wouldn’t have been able to slip away so easily. Billy deliberately ignored the fact that if he’d raised the alarm when he first saw what Pan was up to, this wouldn’t have happened either.
Jukes dismissed all thoughts of the bosun when Hook’s door flew open and the captain strode out, looking murderous. He was mostly dressed, missing his coat, cloak, and hat, but as always his sword and cat were in their proper places on his belt. Billy instantly ceased ringing the bell and stood up straight, praying that the captain wouldn’t take this out on him.
“What’s the alarm, Jukes?” Hook snapped, holding his anger at bay. He hoped for Pan’s sake that he’d misheard the gunner’s cry. Billy’s hand absently drifted to his face and the captain watched darkly as the boy wiped away a thin trickle of blood from his nose.
“Miss Pan’s taken the dingy. I tried to stop her but she got the better of me and jumped ship.” Billy pointed as he spoke and Hook strode to the railing, his gaze sweeping the bay. He saw her immediately and his anger coalesced into cold, hard rage. So, this is my reward for being kind. I will not make that mistake again, Pan. You will deeply regret this little escapade. “Ready the longboat! Cookson, Mason, Starkey, Smee!” he barked at the men that tumbled onto the deck, “Man the oars!” He pointed to Billy, his eyes burning with fury. “Jukes and Mullins, man Long Tom. Slow her down with cannon-fire and see if you can capsize her. I won’t be upset if she’s anything short of dead when I get my hand on her. MOVE!” he roared, though he hardly needed to yell. The men were already carrying out his orders with rare urgency, each one knowing they’d be seriously harmed if Pan got away due to their screw-up.
Jukes and Mullins had the cannon primed and ready by the time the rest of the crew launched the longboat. The bright, clear night made aiming mere child’s play for the gunner, and he hesitated only a moment before he fired.
“Damn, Billy, you tryin’ to blow her outta the water?” Mullins asked when the cannonball struck the water two yards off the girl’s port side. The waves from the impact set the small craft to spinning about in the water.
“I will if I have to,” Jukes answered grimly, already reloading. “We trusted her, Robert. We took her in, treated her better than she deserved, and the first chance she gets she deserts us.”
Mullins grunted as he helped the gunner aim for the next shot, positioning Long Tom according to Billy’s coordinates. “Well, she’s a woman, and women can’t be trusted. I warned ya, Billy-boy.”
“She’s not a woman,” Billy growled, feeling like a fool for forgetting what she really was. “She’s Peter Pan, our enemy, and I won’t be forgetting that ever again.” He fired his second shot, watching with grim satisfaction as the ball struck a yard off Peter’s starboard bow. The craft spun again, forcing the girl to lose more precious time to get it back under control – seconds where Hook closed the distance between the two boats.
“She gets ten yards from shore,” Billy warned, his eyes narrowed with concentrated fury, “and I’m sinking her.”
Hook stood in the longboat, glare fixed steadily on the girl in the other vessel. She was struggling to keep herself on course, Jukes’s well-placed shots kept upsetting her craft. The latest explosion had rocked her so badly that for an instant Hook thought she would capsize, but unfortunately Pan remained upright and soon was once more making her way towards the shore. She was getting closer to land, but Hook was getting closer to her. She wouldn’t escape, Hook swore his life upon that.
The men pulled the oars for all they were worth, wary of the captain’s silence. Hook only went stone silent when he was deeply enraged, and in this state he was likely to do anything. Knowing well his capacity for unimaginable cruelty when he was this angry, each man remained quiet and alert, determined to recapture Pan so Hook would have some other hapless victim to vent upon. Most of them felt sympathetic for the girl, but not enough to risk their own hides on her behalf.
I’ve done everything! Hook thought, glaring at his quarry. I sheltered you, fed you, clothed you. I protected you from your godparents! I’ve given you comfort and care, more than you ever deserved from me! He thought of the times he’d held her while she wept, distraught by her nightmares and memories. His ire only increased when he remembered the warm concern he’d allowed himself to feel for her. I was a fool! How could I have let myself care for Peter Pan? She is my enemy, she’s given me nothing but pain and grief since I met her.
Hook clenched his fist even tighter. She’d betrayed his trust and her betrayal hurt him more deeply than he would have ever believed. This pain hurt worse then when she’d cut off his hand… this pain was in his heart, a place he’d thought had long ago hardened to stone. Captain Hook knew of only one way to deal with that kind of pain – turn it to anger and hate, and return it tenfold to the one that had caused it.
“Flee for your life, Peter Pan,” Hook growled, his voice low and cold, “because if I catch you, I might just kill you.”
Hearing Hook’s words, Starkey began to pray for the girl’s escape, even as he continued to row with all his strength to help recapture her.
“Damn it!” Peter swore softly as another explosion of water crashed over her, rocking the boat violently. Water filled the bottom of her craft past her ankles, but that was the least of her worries. Hook was gaining on her. Peter glanced over her shoulder at the shoreline and began pulling at the oars again, trying to avoid looking at the approaching longboat. Hook’s ominous figure threatened to freezer her with fear, fear she couldn’t afford right now. Fear will get me nowhere. Fear is a prison, and I will not be caged. Not again, not ever again! There was a time not so very long ago when she would have laughed at this chase, considering it a fine adventure, but too much had happened to her since that time. She’d lost her naďve innocence since then and learned once more the taste of true fear.
She was close, though, so very close to the shore that it was maddening. She would make it though. Even with Jukes’s interference she knew she would reach land before Hook, and once she was ashore she knew she was free. Neverland was her home and she knew its hidden places intimately. There was no way Hook or his men would find her once she made it into the forest. So close; I’m almost home!
Another explosion rent the air as Long Tom fired another shot. “I’m gonna kill Jukes,” Peter muttered in annoyance, bracing for another inundation of water. But instead of the expected splash, this time there was a sickening crack of wood as the cannonball slammed into the aft of her boat. The dingy disintegrated in a shower of planks and nails, and Peter screamed as the force of the impact threw her into the water. She floated motionless below the waves, stunned.
Pan! the call cut through her shock, startling her back into awareness. She could feel the island reaching for her, urging her onwards, promising her protection if only she could make it to safety.
Peter swam, clawing upwards through the water towards air, and after a seeming eternity her head broke the surface. She gasped, lungs sucking in much needed air, and she allowed herself a few precious moments to catch her breath while she got her bearings. Debris littered the surface, but beyond that she saw the other boat gliding swiftly through the waves towards her. Hook stood in the stern and she realized with dismay that he was close enough for her to see his face. He glared at her murderously, lips compressed into a bloodless line, his eyes burning red…
Peter choked back a moan, turned about and swam frantically away from her pursuers. The shoreline beckoned to her and she plowed towards it desperately, despite the knowledge that it was now hopeless. She’d lost her advantage. Hook was too close and getting closer.
Don’t give up, she chided herself, pushing away her despair. Fight if you have to. Don’t give up without a fight! She was so close! Over the sound of the breaking waves, she heard the oars cutting the water, heard the labored breathing of the men, heard Hook’s snarl of anger…
“NO!” she screamed as something snagged the back of her shift and hauled her bodily out of the water. She kicked wildly, connecting with Mason’s arm as he reached for her. Her hand went to her dagger and pulled the weapon free of her sash, barely bringing it to bear before she was pulled aboard. As Peter spun about, she struck with the blade, intending to make the man that held her let go. The blade cut across something yielding and Peter saw a dark stain spread across a white shirt. The hand holding her let go in surprise. Peter instinctively jumped away, barely avoiding the viscous claw that struck out at her in retaliation. She plunged into the water once more and resumed her desperate swim.
She was forced to relinquish her blade, unable to swim with it in hand and lacking the time to tuck it back into her sash. She heard the sounds behind her again, heard Hook’s muttered obscenities getting louder, closer. Panic threatened to consume her. I just want to go home! I didn’t want to hurt you, any of you, I just want to be me again! Peter sensed more than saw the shadow looming over her, and she dove into the water, evading the hand that grabbed for her again. She remained submerged for as long as possible, continuing towards land, and when she finally broke the surface again she was close enough to the shore to put her feet down and run. Not daring to look back, Peter gathered her skirts and held them above her knees, running the last few feet through the shallows towards the beach, and beyond that the freedom of the forest.
“PAN!” Hook’s voice roared from much too close behind her, and Peter could hear the splashing of large, booted feet racing behind her. Then she was on dry sand, sharp shells poking and scratching the soles of her feet, and she felt hot tears quicken in her eyes as she tried in vain to run faster. A heartbeat later Hook’s splashing steps became muffled as he too emerged onto the beach, the man’s much longer strides giving him the deciding advantage over her, enabling him to close the distance between them.
Something hard and unforgiving slammed into Peter’s back, driving her forward with such force that she fell face-first onto the sand. Instantly she got her hands and knees beneath her, trying to push herself back up to run again, but a booted foot kicked her from the side, driving into her stomach and sending her sprawling onto her back. Bright lights streaked across her vision and bile rose in her throat, her chest constricting so tightly with pain that she was unable to breathe. No-no-nonono!
Hook glared at the girl, seething with rage. A line of fire burned across his chest where the brat’s blade had scratched him and his shirt was wet with blood. He couldn’t believe the little bitch had had the unmitigated gall to attack him! He’d only intended to capture her and have her put in irons upon their return, despite his desire to inflict physical punishment on her, but after she’d struck the first blow Hook had lost all of his remaining compunctions against harming her. If she wanted to fight, they’d fight, and Hook intended to ensure that she would think again about ever fighting him again.
He bent down and snagged the front of her dress with his claw and hoisted her up, holding the girl so that her feet dangled a good foot above the ground. “I’ve got you, Pan,” he snarled triumphantly. “Surrender, or I’ll have to hurt you.”
The bands of pain around Peter’s chest finally relaxed and the girl sucked in a shuddering breath. The blackness receded from her vision as she drew a few more gasps of air, and she startled to see Hook’s face so close to her own. “Let go!” she yelled, grappling with the arm that held her. She kicked at the man frantically, trying to force him to release her. One foot caught Hook solidly on his thigh, mere inches from the place Peter remembered as the tenderest of the male anatomy, and Hook jerked in alarm at her near miss. Peter was about to pull her foot back and try again, but at that moment something slammed into the side of her face, sending flaring agony though her head and down her spine. Blackness once more encroached upon her vision, but this time it swallowed her entirely despite her struggles to remain conscious.
Hook watched the girl intently, feeling a swell of satisfaction when her head lolled to the side, her body relaxed and her eyes slid shut. His knuckles stung from backhanding her so hard, but that pain was easily disregarded in face of the sheer pleasure he derived from striking her. Blood began to drip from Pan’s nose and split lip, the liquid black in the moonlight, and the man took a moment to wonder if he’d struck her too hard. Another moment later he discovered he didn’t care. She deserved whatever he decided to do to her. Now if she’ll just stay unconscious, she might live to see daybreak.
He turned back to the surf, where his men were pulling the longboat onto the beach. The captain strode across the sand to meet them, shoving the limp girl into Mason’s startled grasp. “Bind her hands and feet, and toss her in the boat. We’re going back, now.” Without another word, Hook settled onto his customary seat in the craft and waited for the men to obey.
They were halfway to the ship when Peter returned to her senses. The first thing she was aware of was the pain, a throbbing agony in her head that made everything hurt, including her teeth and the very hairs on her head. The next thing that caught her attention was the nausea, a burning, roiling stone in her stomach that kept threatening to force vileness into her throat. She groaned, trying to move, and that was when she noticed the manacles around her ankles and wrists. Her hands were bound before her, a small consideration that allowed her to push herself up into a kneeling position. That movement sent new levels of pain and nausea through her, but she ignored it for now. She had other, larger worries.
She heard water lapping on wood, heard men grunting in time, the sound coupling with a slightly jerky sense of motion. Hook’s caught me, he’s taking me back to the ship, she realized with sinking despair. She opened her eyes and found herself kneeling before a familiar pair of boots. Ignoring her discomfort, Peter managed to lift her head to meet Hook’s glare, the man’s face shadowed and malevolent in the moonlight.
“You have made a very grave error, Pan,” the man’s cold voice washed over her, making her shudder with dread. “Sit still and don’t make things any worse for you.”
Peter turned her head and looked at the other men in the longboat, watching them for a few seconds as they rowed, taking her further away from her home with every stroke. None of them would look back at her. Behind them she could see the dark bulk of the Jolly Roger getting closer. I won’t go back. I WON’T! She rose a little on her knees, looking back at Hook. Behind him she could see the peaks of Neverland’s mountains, the island still close enough to give her a semblance of hope. She didn’t know if she could swim while bound in chains, but she was willing to try. She’d die trying if she had to.
Needing a distraction, Peter thought quickly and immediately hit upon an idea, a ruse she’d used before. She let herself go still, her eyes widening in feigned fear and she flung out her arms to point across the port side. “The croc!” she squeaked fearfully, hoping the men would fall for her trick.
Every head turned towards the indicated direction, and Smee half-stood in the boat to get a better look across the dark water. Taking the opening, Peter flung herself over the starboard side of the boat, intent on getting as far away as she possibly could before the men had time to recover and pursue her again. She knew she was unlikely to escape, but she wasn’t going to stop trying, not while there was even a slim chance she could succeed. She fell towards the water and braced herself, but instead of falling into cold water, she felt hot agony in her upper right arm as cold steel hooked into her flesh, snagging her and halting her plunge. The pain increased tenfold when the hook snatched back, jerking her into the boat. She screamed, flailing and kicking to no avail.
Hook wrenched his claw from the girl’s arm, oblivious to the blood that covered it and streamed down Pan’s arm. His good hand clamped about her thin neck and squeezed as he dragged her forward, holding her face inches from his own. “You willful little bitch!” he snarled, squeezing harder. “I am going to break you, and when I’m through with you, you won’t even sneeze without my permission!” He took a few more moments to watch the girl strangle, wishing there was enough light to see the shades of color her face must be changing to, and then threw her facedown in the bottom of the boat. He planted a boot firmly between her shoulder blades and sat down, pinning her fast.
“Row,” he ordered, sounding far calmer and saner than he felt. “It’s past Pan’s bedtime.” He smiled when his men complied, cocking an eyebrow as he watched the girl struggle beneath his foot. Inside, his rage still burned hot, continuously stoked by Peter’s insistence on fighting him instead of surrendering. As they drew closer to the ship, he became more and more determined to do everything in his power to cure his captive of her defiance once and for all.
In the bottom of the boat, Peter tried to wriggle free of the boot that had her pinned, sobbing in pain and despair. She had been so close! Her feet had been on solid ground for a few brief seconds, and for Hook to so quickly capture and carry her away again filled her with bitterness. “I hate you, Codfish!” she screamed, her hands clenching into fists that she slammed into the planks beneath her.
“Not as much as you’re going to hate me shortly, Pan,” Hook replied evenly, fingering the cat o’nine on his belt. “You’ve been a very bad girl.” He smiled as she began to sob.