Pan's Revenge (27 page)

HE’S HERE! JAMIE came to free me. I don’t
know if I should be happy or terrified, because Peter has been
silent for so long, I’m afraid he’s plotting something awful in his
crazy, grown up mind. And he has aged again. His hair is grayer now
and deep furrows mar his forehead.

Sitting on the stone floor with his back
leaning against the rocky wall, he started sharpening a piece of
wood with his knife a while ago. He wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t
answer my questions, only worked the blade with a vengeance on the
stick in his hand. But I can see how sad he is about what happened
between Tami and him. There’s only so much a person can take, and
Peter seems to have reached his limits. Growing older so fast must
hurt, not only in his soul but also physically. And he’s facing his
death. After losing his brother and his best friends too, I wonder
how he still copes.

Instead of hatred I feel sorry for Peter. He
was my friend. I wish I could help him, but I don’t know how.
However, letting me hang above this abyss isn’t going to do anyone
good. Least of all me. My wrists burn like hellfire and my
shoulders make me feel like my body suddenly weighs two-hundred
pounds. Why can’t he just release me and we can try to find a way
to save him together?

But the look full of loathing he throws me
every so often reminds me that he gave up on himself already. All
he wants is to destroy his brother first.

Jamie has almost reached the entrance to the
cave when Peter stands up and walks to the back. I turn my head to
see what he’s doing, but my arm is in my way and I’m too weak to
lean forward or twist to get a better view. Several times in the
past couple of hours I prayed that the pain in my arms and
shoulders would let me pass out. Seems like now is the moment that
my wish will come true.

I fight against the dizziness taking over and
struggle to stay conscious. Jamie is here. He’ll safe me. It won’t
be long now.

Concentrating
on my breathing, I tighten my fingers around the rope once more. A
tortured whine escapes me and Jamie glances my way. The worry in
his face turns to ice-cold hatred. There’s murder on his mind when
he grips the edge of the stone platform.

In one swift move, he hoists himself onto it.
Standing at the entrance to the cave, he draws his sword. Peter
comes out of the shadows, a sword in his own hand. So that’s what
he was going to the get from the back. He must have heard Jamie
coming after all.

At the aged
appearance of Peter, shock crosses Jamie's face. He sucks in a
sharp breath. Clearly, it’s worse than what he expected and he
probably only now realizes the full extent of what
us
being
together again cost Peter.

“So we meet again, dear brother,” Peter Pan
drawls with venom in his voice. “For the last time, I assume.”

Jamie doesn’t
move an inch. His body is rigid with muscles tense as taught wire.
“Let Angel go.”

“
I’m not
taking orders from you,
pirate
!” Peter spits and in the
next moment the clanging of blades drifts to me.

It’s not going to help anyone, but all I can
do is shriek. Tears of fear for Jamie override the ones of
pain.

The two of them thrusts and parry hard blows
at each other. Cuts appear on their arms and body but they continue
fighting without even so much as blinking. Peter runs Jamie up
against the wall and aims a kick to his chest, but Jamie evades
him. Peter’s foot drives into the rock instead. It unbalances him
for a second. Jamie takes the chance to kick him in the knee and
brings him down to the ground. Before the blade of Jamie’s sword
can hit him square in the back, Peter Pan rolls to the side. He
jumps to his feet and they cross blades again.

I’ve never seen someone fight with such
determination to destroy each other. My bones rattle with fear for
both.

Peter slams Jamie against the wall, his
forearm presses hard against Jamie’s throat in order to squash his
windpipe. I yell out both their names, begging for them to stop,
but they ignore me. I don’t think either of them even heard my
scream.

Jamie throws a hard punch to Peter’s jaw. He
staggers back. Fury etched in his face, Jamie goes after Peter and
lands another punch to his face. Peter stumbles backward and falls
against the rope he used for tying me up. I feel a hard jerk
against my wrists. Another shriek escapes me. This time I can’t
stop myself, because I seem to be the only one noticing how the
rope loosens from the rock.

“Jamie! The rope!” I shout. “Help me! I’m
going to fall!”

Both of them stiffen and turn to me, Jamie
bleeding from his nose and a cut on his upper arm, Peter wiping
blood from the corner of his mouth. He’s the one nearer to the
rope. In his eyes, I can read the shock—they almost killed me as
they fought. Maybe he’s finally coming to his senses.

“Free me, Peter! Please,” I beg.

He just stares at me for another long
moment.

“By Davie Jones’ locker, take her down from
there!” Jamie barks and rushes across the cave to my aid. He must
have thought the same, that Peter is having a moment of clarity and
understands what he’s really doing me—to his friend.

But Peter startles us both as he whirls
around and blocks Jamie’s way. He throws a punch so hard at his
brother’s abdomen that Jamie drops to his knees, spitting
blood.

“You’ll never get to her,” Peter hisses and
cements his words with a kick to the side of Jamie’s head.

I squeeze my
eyes shut because I can’t watch this any longer, but the punches
thrown echo in my ears. The men groan and shout as they keep
fighting. Then the worst of all sounds makes me sick. A dull thud
as someone is slammed against the wall. A body smacks on the
ground.

I don’t want
to see Jamie hurt.
Oh God,
please don’t be dead.

There was
already so much blood on his face and shirt. And then being thrown
against the wall… It sounded like someone’s skull broke. Why is
Peter so cruel? Why did he have to kill him?

Suddenly I drop two feet. A hoarse gasp
escapes my throat and hurts like murder. My eyes shoot open. “What
are you going to do with me?” I shout at Peter.

Only, it’s
not Peter Pan standing in the cave’s opening with the rope wrapped
around his hand. Jamie, bloodied and beaten, crashes against the
wall for support. “Angel,” he drawls, exhausted. “You need to swing
on that rope. Swing over to me. I’ll catch you.”

What?
He can’t expect me to do
that, when my life hangs on a brittle tree four hundred feet above
the ground.

At the sheer terror on my face, Jamie takes a
small step forward, the move visibly hurting him. He coughs and
spits more blood as he wraps the rope a couple times around his
hand. “Come on, love. It’s not far. Swing.”

Hanging above nothingness is the horror of my
life, but swinging takes the word panic to a whole new level. “I
can’t!”

“
Yes, you
can! I’ll catch you. Trust me.” He stretches out his free arm,
encouraging me to start moving in the air. “Come on. You have to
swing now before Peter comes to. He won’t be out for much
longer.”

My own panic is mirrored in his eyes, but he
doesn’t fear that I’ll drop. He’s scared of what will happen to me
when Peter wakes up. Clenching my teeth, I summon all the bravery I
can master and start moving my legs back and forth in a slow
rhythm. Every bone inside me screams in pain. I hold on to the rope
so tight that my fingers get numb. But in the end I’m swinging
really far. Except, it’s not far enough. Jamie can’t reach me.

“Don’t panic now. I’m going to give you more
rope.” He unwinds the rope from his hand, giving me another couple
feet of line. I swallow all my fear and keep swinging. “Just a
little bit more, Angel,” he urges.

Squinting my
eyes shut, I put more of my weight into the next verve. A strong
arm catches me around my waist and stops my swinging abruptly. I’m
pulled against a protective chest. “I have you, Angel. You’re safe
now.”

It hurts like crazy when I lower my arms
around Jamie’s neck, and yet nothing ever felt so good.

He cuts my
ties and gently rubs the burn marks on my wrists. Then he brushes
my hair out of my face. Gazing into my eyes, he exhales a long,
relieved breath. “Don’t you ever run away from me like
that.”

He almost
makes me laugh with it, but I’m aching too much. A weak sob comes
out instead. After he kissed me on my mouth, quick and hard, he
hugs me to his chest. I bury my face in his shoulder, enjoying the
brief moment of reunion.

When I look
up again and catch a glimpse over his shoulder, I go rigid in his
arms. Peter has gotten to his feet. Dead-set determination on his
face, he tightens his grip on the knife in his hand and lunges at
Jamie. Too many things happen at once.

I scream.

Jamie whirls
about, shoves me to the side and ducks.

Peter stabs the air instead of his
brother.

He loses balance.

Jamie throws himself against Peter’s legs and
tosses him over his shoulder.

He doesn’t know.

I scream again.

Far too close to the entrance of the cave,
Peter hits the stone ground with a groan and skitters on. He shoots
out over the platform and falls. I dash forward, but there’s
nothing I can do. He’s falling. And he lost his happy thought.

“No! Jamie, no!” I grab his arm. “Peter can’t
fly. He’ll die!”

After the brutal fight with his brother, one
would have thought Jamie would take the news with joy. But the
horror on his face proves my suspicion. He never wanted his brother
dead, or he would have killed him before he saved me.

Jamie
stumbles to his knees beside me, gripping the edge of the rock.
Peter flails with his arms and legs, but it does him no good. He
can’t lift himself in the air. My heart stops and I almost throw
up.

Suddenly, a tiny spot shoots up from the
depth. Golden hair and a lush green dress. “Tami!” She beats her
wings as fast as she can to reach Peter in time. When she gets a
hold on his jacket’s collar, she pulls hard upward, but he’s too
big and heavy for her. All she can do is slow his fall, but not
much. He’s dragging her down with him. And then they disappear out
of sight.

“We must get down to him!” I shout, rushing
to my feet and starting to descend the steep slope of the mountain.
Jamie is close behind me. That he is so silent scares me the most.
It can only mean one thing. He has the same fears as I—Peter didn’t
survive the fall.

I’m barefoot and not anywhere near as used to
the wilderness as Jamie. I know I’m only holding him up and he
wants to go down and find his brother so desperately. After we made
it half the way together, I stop and let him get ahead of me. When
he turns and casts me a look from a face so pale it can’t be human,
I push at his arm. “Go! I’ll follow you!”

Jamie nods. I know he’s grateful that I can
watch after my own, but he still says nothing. I wish I could
soothe him. I wish I could get down faster and find Peter alive. I
wish I could change everything.

And for the briefest moment, I wish I had
never fallen off my balcony.

At another
push from me, Jamie eventually turns and half-runs, half-skates
down the serpentine dirt path. When he reaches the upper level of
the trees, I lose sight of him. It takes me a felt eternity to make
my own way down the mountain. The nearer I get to the jungle, the
louder the sobs of the Lost Boys and Tami’s crying
become.

Dear Lord, it can’t be. Peter must be
alive!

Tears stream down my cheeks as I send prayer
after prayer to the heavens above. When I find the small group of
boys and Jamie huddled above a figure lying on the ground, it
almost breaks me. Slowing to an uncertain pace, I croak out Jamie’s
name. Everyone turns their head in my direction.

Jamie looks
up and stares at me with a determined expression, quietly counting
along with the pumps as he gives Peter a cardiac massage. “One,
two, three, four, five…” I wonder where he learned to do that, but
living on a ship he might have had to save some of his men from
drowning during the years. He leans down, pinches Peter’s nose
closed and breathes into his mouth. Then he pumps again. “One, two,
three, four—”

Peter’s body
jerks and he coughs. Everyone sucks in a gasp of relief. I fall
forward on my knees and take his hand, but he doesn’t return my
squeeze. His eyes flutter open for a second, unfocused, then they
close again. At least, he’s inhaling and exhaling in deep intervals
now.

“We must get him out of here,” Jamie says
sternly, his voice so full of worry, it kills me.

“Where to?” Toby demands.

Jamie and I reply at the same time, “The
fairies.”

From the looks on the Lost Boys’ faces I can
tell how much the two women in the forest scare them. But they are
Peter’s only hope…if there’s any at all. And they know it. Slowly,
one after the other, they nod.

Stan, the
tallest of the boys, and Jamie haul Peter to his feet, slipping
their shoulders under his arms, supporting his weight. That Peter
stumbles along with them is the best sign we got of him yet, even
though his head is hanging.

Anxiously rubbing my upper arms, I follow
with the rest of the boys. All of them are silent. It doesn’t
matter what Peter Pan did or said—to anyone. His family surrounds
him now, and everyone of this small group loves him like he’s their
real brother. That’s what family is for, I think to myself,
watching Jamie half-drag, half-carry Peter out of the jungle.