The Bridge to Never Land (21 page)

They had reached the moving walkway. The group ahead was boarding a ship; they were next.

“Ninety seconds,” said J.D. “We have to stall a little.”

Aidan looked out at the concourse and froze. “We got trouble,” he said.

“What?” said Sarah.

“That big guy,” said Aidan, pointing. “He’s the one who tried to grab me at the train station.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, and he sees us.”

Armstrong was, indeed, coming their way. One of the Peter Pan Cast Members moved to block his path, apparently telling him he couldn’t enter the ride that way. Armstrong pushed past the Cast Member, pointing at Sarah, Aidan, and J.D., who were now at the head of the line to board the ships.

“Stop the ride!” Armstrong shouted. “Police emergency! Stop the ride!”

“If he stops the ride,” said J.D., “it’s over.”

“You guys go ahead,” said Aidan. “I’ll slow him down.”

“Wait!” said Sarah. But Aidan had already vaulted a divider and was running toward Armstrong.

“Aidan!” shouted Sarah. She turned to J.D. “I have to go help him.”

“Sarah,” said J.D., “this is our only chance. We have to be on the ship in seventy-five seconds.”

“But I can’t just…”

Sarah was interrupted by a shout from Aidan as he ran directly into the midsection of the oncoming Armstrong. The big man, surprised by the assault, staggered backward into the concourse. But he had his powerful arms around Aidan and clearly did not intend to let go.

“Aidan!” shouted Sarah. She went toward the divider.

“Wait!” said J.D., grabbing her arm.

And then they both froze, watching in horror as the struggling figures of Armstrong and Aidan were suddenly engulfed by black shapes falling like living stones from the sky.

“No!” screamed Sarah, her voice matched by screams
from people on the concourse as the raven swarm swirled around the now-fallen pair. Both J.D. and Sarah were now climbing the divider to go to Aidan’s rescue.

And then, incredibly, Aidan emerged from the swirling black mass, on his feet again, walking toward them. Behind him the birds were darting back upward, leaving the form of Armstrong lying face-down on the concourse, apparently unconscious. A crowd was gathering around him. Some were applauding, believing this to be a show.

“Aidan!” shouted Sarah, relief flooding her face.

J.D. looked ahead. The ride was still moving; the Peter Pan Cast Members, like the people in line, were distracted by the drama surrounding Armstrong on the concourse. J.D. looked at his watch. “Fifteen seconds!” he said. “We can do this! Come on!”

He tugged Sarah’s arm, pulling her toward the walkway. She resisted, looking back toward her brother.

“Come on, Aidan!” she shouted. “Run! Why don’t you…” Then she screamed.

J.D. looked back; Sarah’s face was a mask of horror. No longer resisting, she stumbled after J.D. onto the walkway. He looked at his watch; they had five seconds. No time to wait for Aidan.

He stepped quickly forward and got into the closest sailing ship; he pulled Sarah onto the seat beside him. Another glance at his watch: it read 9:05:46. Only one second off. He turned to Sarah, who was staring straight ahead, her backpack on her lap.

“What happened to Aidan?” he said.

Sarah turned to him. Her face was paper-white. “That’s…not…Aidan,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” J.D. turned his head, looking back along the walkway. The ship behind them, and the one behind it, were both empty. Getting onto the walkway now and approaching the third ship back was Aidan. As he reached the ship and started to climb in, he looked directly at J.D. Where his eyes should have been were two black voids. “Oh my god,” said J.D. “Ombra,” said Sarah. The safety bar closed. Their ship was turning left and rising, entering the Darling nursery.

“Is he following us?” said Sarah.

“Yes,” said J.D. “But he’s three ships back. Do you still want to try the bridge?”

Sarah looked down at the backpack, then at J.D.

“Yes,” she said. “We have to get the starstuff away from him, away from us, forever. He’s only using Aidan to find out what our plan is. If we get the starstuff to the island, he’ll know he can never have it, and he’ll leave us alone.”

They were passing over the ever-barking Nana. “All right, then,” said J.D. “Get the locket ready.”

“Okay,” said Sarah, digging into the pocket of her jeans. Now they were over London. Ahead and below was Big Ben, still indicating 9:07. The overhead track curved, turning their ship so they could see clearly behind them.

Sarah fought back a scream.

By the dim light of the artificial moon, they saw that Aidan had left the seat of his ship and was crouching on the bow, in front of the sail. It looked like a precarious position, but he seemed to balance there without effort. As they watched, he leaped forward, traveling what seemed like an impossible distance through the air and landing with astonishing agility on the stern of the ship in front.

“He’s coming after us!” said Sarah.

“There’s still a ship between him and us,” said J.D. “And we’re less than a minute away.”

They were over Never Land now; the volcano was passing below. J.D. looked back. Aidan was now perched on the bow of the second ship behind them. With a movement too quick to be human, he again leaped forward, landing easily one ship back.

“Where is he?” said Sarah, not looking.

“He’s right behind us,” said J.D.

Below them now was the mermaid lagoon. Just ahead was the Indian village.

After that was the bird.

J.D. looked back. Aidan was moving toward the bow of the ship behind them. In the ghostly, dim light of the ride his gray, eyeless face looked like a skull. J.D. looked down; there were the Indians. He looked ahead and saw Wendy, about to walk the plank.

“Get ready,” he said. “Toss it right at the bird, okay?” Sarah nodded and gripped the locket.

J.D. looked back. Aidan had reached the bow of the ship. He looked forward. Skull Rock—finally—loomed out of the darkness. He looked back. Aidan was crouched to spring.

Caw! Caw!

“Now!” shouted J.D.

Sarah’s arm flicked out. The golden locket glinted as it sailed through the gloom toward the bird perched in the gaping eye socket of the skull.

From behind them came a hideous, unearthly groan.

J.D. turned and saw Aidan flying through the air like some ungodly bat.

And then the world went utterly white, its features obliterated by a light of blinding intensity. J.D. closed his eyes, or at least thought he did, but the light was still there, as if coming from inside his eyes, inside his mind. He heard a scream, and realized it was his own voice, but somehow it seemed to be coming from him, and from somewhere else, at the same time. Then he heard another voice screaming, Sarah’s voice, but he couldn’t see her, nor could he touch her, though he knew she had to be right next to him.

Then he felt that he was falling. Not fast—more of a gentle downward drift, falling through the all-consuming whiteness, falling through a cloud made of pure light.

And then as suddenly as it had come, the whiteness was gone, the world came back, and J.D. saw that he was still in the little Peter Pan’s Flight ship, and he was still sitting next to Sarah, and…

And they were flying. Not suspended from a pole in a building in Florida, but really flying, over blue-green water sparkling with a billion flashes of sunlight. Flying, but also descending; the little ship was drifting downward.

“Sarah,” he said, as the water drew closer. “We have to…”

“Look,” she said.

He looked where she was pointing and saw it rising from the water beside them, in all its malevolent massiveness.

Skull Rock.

“Oh my god,” he said. “It’s real.”

“That’s not all that’s real,” said Sarah. Now she was pointing directly behind them.

J.D. turned and gasped. Bearing down on them, under full sail, was a large wooden ship flying the Jolly Roger. Standing in the bow, pointing at them and shouting, was a man with long, greasy black hair and an enormous black moustache. He was pointing with a hook.

CHAPTER 31

“P
ADDLE!” J.D. SHOUTED
, reaching over the side and scooping seawater. The tiny Peter Pan’s Flight boat had settled into the azure sea directly in front of the pirate ship, which was closing in quickly, foam surging along both sides of its bow. J.D.’s frantic efforts to move them out of the way were having little effect, and Sarah was not helping; she was still staring at the shouting man in the front of the pirate ship.

“That’s him!” she said. “That’s Captain Hook!”

“Yes, and we’re going to be fish food if we don’t get out of the way.
Paddle
!”

Suddenly aware of the danger, Sarah leaned over to help J.D. move the little boat. But their efforts had little effect; the hull of the big ship loomed closer, about to crush them. At the last second, Hook bellowed a command, and the ship turned sharply left, its sails suddenly slack. The ship slowed and settled gently next to the little ride boat.

More commands from Hook, and a sailor swung down
to J.D. and Sarah on a rope. Agile as a monkey, he tied the rope to their little craft—a good thing, since the starstuff had almost worn off and it was about to sink. A minute later it was being hauled upward, with J.D. and Sarah still in it. As they rose, Sarah nudged J.D. and pointed; in the distance, rising majestically from the water, was a green and mountainous island.

“That’s it!” she said. “That’s Never Land! J.D., we’re here!”

“Not to be a wet blanket or anything,” said J.D., “but we’re also being captured by pirates.”

They had reached the big ship’s rail; their little vessel lurched sideways, spilling them both onto the deck, Sarah clutching her backpack in front of her.

“Well, well,” said an unpleasant rasp of a voice. “What have we here?”

They looked up to see Hook, tall, gaunt, and sun-baked, regarding them with a sneering smile that revealed a random collection of jagged, yellow teeth. Enjoying the drama of the moment, Hook slapped back the ragged hem of his faded red coat and prepared to stride manfully toward them, only to catch the toe of his worn boot on an uneven deck plank and stumble forward, saved from falling onto his hatchet face only by landing on Smee, his barefoot, rotund, and balding first mate.

“Out of my way, you clumsy idjit!” bellowed Hook, belting Smee on the ear, fortunately with his non-hook hand.

“Sorry, Cap’n!” whimpered the little man, scurrying aside to join the rest of the ragtag pirate crew, who were staring, mouths agape, at the new arrivals.

Hook resumed his manful striding, managing to reach Sarah and J.D. without further mishap. For a moment he stood there stroking his matted beard, which was festooned with food scraps. Sarah and J.D. looked up with expressions that were equal parts fear and disgust; Hook smelled like the wrong end of a goat.

Hook turned to look at their little boat, lying sideways on the deck. “What kind of craft have we here?” he said. He tapped it with his hook, then dragged the sharp tip, peeling off a curl of paint with a screech that made the pirates wince. “Seems a tad…puny for the open sea, don’t it, boys?”

The pirates nodded vigorously. No matter what Hook said, they either nodded or shook their heads in unison. Hook appreciated his crew’s unflagging loyalty.

“No, you couldn’t go far on this ship, not in the water,” said Hook. He turned toward Sarah and J.D. “Of course, you two wasn’t in the water, now was you? No, you was flying when we spied you. That’s mighty curious, ain’t it, men?”

The men nodded vigorously.

“Yes,” said Hook, a hardness coming into his dark eyes. “Around here we’re very interested in things that fly.
Very
interested.” He spat onto the deck, then glared at his men.

They all spat onto the deck.

Hook moved closer to Sarah. She stiffened as his hook found its way to her trembling chin. “And who might you be? Hmm? Such a fine lass these eyes have not seen for…” He looked at Smee.

“One hundred four years, three months, and twenty-two days, Cap’n.”

“A long time,” said Hook, catching some of Sarah’s hair in his hook and letting it slide off the metal slowly back onto her shoulder. “A very long time. So who are you, girl?”

Sarah pulled her head away from the hook. “My name is Sarah Cooper,” she said.

“Cooper, is it? I knew me a cooper once, and a fine cooper he was, too. Made a fine barrel, never leaked a drop of rum. Eh, Smee?”

“Kaden Cooper, I believe it were, Cap’n. Off St. Bartholomew’s, it was. Though it might have been Kaleb.”

“Expensive place, St. Bart’s,” the captain said to Sarah. “Ever been?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“If you ever get there,” said Hook, “take money.”

J.D. cleared his throat.
Hook glared down at him. “Are you clearing your throat
at me, boy?” he said. “Yes sir,” said J.D. “I…”

“Stand up when you speak to me, boy!” roared Hook.

J.D. scrambled to his feet.

“What’s your name, boy?” said Hook.

“J.D.”

“What kind of name is that?”

“It’s initials,” said J.D. “It stands for…”

“I know what initials is!” roared Hook, who had no idea
what initials were.

“I’m sorry,” said J.D. “I was just going to say, we, that is Sarah and I, we don’t want to cause any trouble. We’re very grateful to you for rescuing us, and we’re just wondering if you could take us to that island?”

Hook put his hand to his chin and frowned thoughtfully, as if he were seriously considering this request.

“No,” he said.

“But—”

“Shut yer hole, boy, before I fill it with hot tar for you!”

J.D. shut his hole.

Hook stepped closer to J.D., who struggled not to gag from the stench of the pirate captain’s breath. With a delicate motion, Hook raised his hook, then lowered it slowly until it touched J.D.’s plastic digital watch.

“What manner of bracelet is that?” he said.

“It’s a watch,” said J.D. He held it up so Hook could see the display. “It has a lot of functions; like, here’s the stopwatch.” J.D. pressed a button and the watch beeped. The pirates gasped. Hook stared at the flashing numbers on the
watch display.

“It’s digital,” said J.D. Seeing Hook’s frown, he said, “That means it—”

“I know what digitile is!” roared Hook.

“Sorry,” said J.D.

“Give it to me,” said Hook.

J.D. quickly removed the watch from his wrist and handed it to Hook, who held it awkwardly.

“Do you want me to put it on for you?” said J.D.

“Do you think I don’t know how to put it on?” bellowed Hook.

“No, sir,” said J.D.

“Of course I know how to put it on, boy. But I choose to have you put it on me.” Hook held out his hook; with shaking hands, J.D. fastened the watch to the pirate’s bony wrist. Hook admired it for a moment, then turned to Sarah.

“Now,” he said. “Let’s see what gifts the lady Cooper brought me.” He grabbed hold of her backpack. She tightened her grip.

“Let go, girl,” he snarled.

“No,” she said.

“No?” said Hook, shocked. Nobody said no to Hook. He yanked on the backpack. Sarah yanked back. With a roar, he raised his hook hand. “Sarah!” shouted J.D. “Let go!”

Sarah let go of the backpack. Hook staggered backward, and
would have fallen if Smee had not caught him from behind. “Let
go
, you idjit!” bellowed Hook, giving his first mate a bony elbow to the head. “Aye, Cap’n,” said Smee, scuttling away. Hook now examined the backpack, turning it around, upside down, and backward, clearly confused by it.

“Smee!” he yelled.

Smee scuttled forward again.

“Aye, Cap’n?”

“Open this,” said Hook, handing over the backpack.

The little man turned the backpack in his hands, his face knotted in puzzlement.

“But there ain’t no hasp, Cap’n,” he said. “No buttons. No laces nor strings.”

Hook stepped toward Sarah, hoisting a hairy eyebrow.

“Tell me how it opens,” he growled.

“No,” said Sarah.

Hook stepped toward her and raised his hook again.

“Tell him!” said J.D.

Sarah remained silent. Hook took another step.

“Zippers!” said J.D.

All the pirates laughed at this strange new word.

“Silence!” Hook cried. He turned to J.D. “What’d you say, boy?”

“Zippers. It opens with zippers.”

The pirates, eyes on Hook, stifled their snickers.

“Zipplers,” said Hook.

“Zippers,”
said J.D. “They’re a kind of…”

“I
know
what zipplers is,” said Hook. He snatched the backpack from Smee and thrust it at J.D. “Open it!” he barked.

J.D., with a glance at Sarah, unzipped the backpack’s small front compartment, avoiding the larger compartment that held the golden box.

“See?” he said. “That’s a zipper.”

Hook’s eyes were wide. “Do that again,” he ordered. Smee and the others gathered around to watch as J.D. worked the zipper back and forth. The pirates oohed and aahed. Convinced that there was no danger, Hook grabbed the backpack away from J.D. and played with the zipper himself. “Looks like a saw blade,” he muttered. He touched the plastic zipper. “But it don’t cut your finger.”

“It’s a very useful invention,” said J.D., hoping to distract Hook from the backpack. “Zippers can be used in all kinds of ways. Clothing, for example.” He pointed to the zipper on his jeans. This created an uproar among the pirates.

“What are you doing?” Sarah said.

Ignoring her, J.D. worked the zipper. Hook’s eyes were now as big as saucers.

“Get me them trousers!” he bellowed.

Immediately, two sailors grabbed J.D. and turned him upside down; two others yanked his jeans off. He was
returned to his feet in his boxer shorts.

Hook turned his back and, shielded by his coat, exchanged his torn leggings for J.D.’s blue jeans. He played with the zipper repeatedly, then shouted
“Owww!”
and bent over.

“What happened, Cap’n?” said Smee.

“Never mind what happened!” roared Hook, turning back around, his face beet-red. He pointed at the backpack and snarled. “Open it!”

Sarah and J.D. exchanged helpless looks as Smee gingerly opened all the zippers, then tipped over the backpack. Sarah’s iPad and cell phone tumbled onto the deck, followed by the golden box. The pirates were in an uproar now, gathered around these strange objects.

“Stand back!” bellowed Hook.

The men parted. Hook leaned down and picked up the iPad. He studied the black glass screen. “It’s a mirror,” he declared. He held up the iPad and, using the reflection, combed some debris from his beard with his hook. Shifting his grip on the iPad, he pressed the power button. He jerked his head back in alarm as the screen came to life, displaying Sarah’s wallpaper: a pristine, white-sand, Caribbean island in a sea of turquoise water. Hook nearly dropped the device.

“Smee!”

Smee waddled over, looked at the screen, and gasped. “As fine a painting as I’ve seen, Cap’n!”

“It wasn’t there a second ago,” said Hook. He glared at J.D. “Where did this painting come from?” he demanded.

“It’s, um…” J.D. hesitated, not sure where to begin.

“It’s magic,” said Sarah.

The pirates muttered nervously.

“What did you say, girl?” said Hook.

“It’s a magic…picture thing,” said Sarah.

Hook frowned. On the one hand, he could not appear to be afraid of this girl, especially in front of his men. On the other hand, he was a bit afraid of this girl, and this thing he was holding did appear to be magical. Perhaps even dangerous.

“Hold this, Smee,” he said, handing the iPad to his first mate, who took it nervously.

“You can have the magic picture thing,” said Sarah. She pointed toward the cell phone. “You can also have that. It’s a magic, um, talking thing. Very magical. You can talk to people far away. And send magical texts. I’ll show you how to use these things. All I ask is that you let us go, and let us keep this.” She pointed to the golden box. “It’s just an old family…thing.”

She bent to pick up the box. She was stopped by the hook on her arm, its point pressing painfully into her skin. “And old family thing, eh?” said Hook, his dark eyes glittering. “Yes.”

Hook bent and picked up the box. He found the little
golden wheel, and touched it with his hook.

“Don’t!” said Sarah.

“Why not?” said Hook.

“It’s dangerous,” she said.

“Very dangerous,” said J.D.

Hook looked at Sarah, then J.D., then the box.

“Smee,” he said.

“Aye, Cap’n.”

“Take this box.”

“What do I do with the magical picture thing?” said Smee.

“Put it down, you sponge-brained idjit,” said Hook, “and take the box.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” said Smee, putting down the iPad and taking the box from Hook.

“Now,” said Hook, “turn the wheel.”

“But they said it was dang—”

“i
know
what they said, you idjit. They’re lying.”

“They are?”

“Of course they are,” said Hook, taking a step back. “Turn the wheel.”

“You’re making a big mistake,” said Sarah.

“Silence, girl!” said Hook. “Turn the wheel, Smee.”

With great reluctance, Smee put his hand on the wheel. Beads of sweat appeared on his broad forehead. He looked at J.D. and Sarah, who both shook their heads. Then he looked
pleadingly at Hook.

“Turn the wheel!” Hook roared.

His whole body trembling, Smee turned the wheel. The deck instantly filled with sound and a light far brighter than the sun overhead.

“Shut it off now!” yelled Sarah. “Right now!”

Somehow, through the blaze of light and sound, Smee heard her, and obeyed. The light began to dim immediately, but it was thirty seconds or so before the pirates could see anything. What they saw, as their vision returned, was that they were no longer on the deck; they were floating, every one of them, up into the ship’s rigging. And yet they were not afraid—in fact, they were delighted, even Hook, who smiled hugely beneath his flamboyant moustache, revealing his foul teeth in all their mismatched hideousness. Floating above the rest of the pirates, like an overinflated balloon, was Smee, grinning blissfully, still clutching the golden box.