The Bridge to Never Land (24 page)

CHAPTER 36

“T
HERE IT IS
!” called nibs, from the front of the line. “Hook’s ship!”

They had been following a path through the jungle, angling up the mountainside; now they were emerging onto a lava outcropping, from which they could see the entire side of the island and far out to sea.

Sarah and J.D. followed the Lost Boys onto the ledge and looked out. To the far left they could see Skull Rock, where they’d landed in their little ship. To the right of that, farther out, was Hook’s ship, moving slowly from left to right, under little sail. And to the far right, coming around a rocky point and aiming toward the ship, was the fleet of Mollusk war canoes.

“I don’t see Peter,” said Tootles.

“I bet he’s beat Hook already,” said Slightly.

“Peter always wins,” said the Twins.

Nibs was frowning. “That’s odd,” he said.

“What’s odd?” said Sarah.

“Hook’s ship,” said Nibs. “He’s sailing toward the canoes. He should be sailing away from them to his side of the island. He can’t possibly want to fight the Mollusks, can he? They’ll destroy him!”

“They will,” said Tootles. “Again!”

“The Mollusks always win,” the Twins told J.D. and Sarah.

Slightly pointed down the mountainside. “Here comes Tink!” he said.

They all looked down to see a flash of light zooming toward them across the dark-green jungle canopy.

“Where’s Peter?” said Tootles.

“That’s odd,” said Nibs.

“Tink is always with Peter,” said the Twins.

Tink had reached them now; she went straight to Nibs and began chiming furiously.

“Slower!” he said. “I can’t understand you!” Aside from Peter, very few people could decode Tink’s bells; of the Lost Boys, Nibs was the best at it, after decades of listening to her. But even he could understand only a word here and there.

Tink, with a look of angry impatience, began again, making slow, exaggerated chiming sounds. Nibs listened to the first few, then said, “Peter.”

Tink nodded. More chimes.

“Pirates,” said Nibs.

Another nod, more chimes.

Nibs frowned. “I don’t know that word,” he said.

Tink rolled her tiny eyes, then flew up and down rapidly, still chiming.

“I don’t understand,” said Nibs.

Tink was beside herself now, flying up and down frantically.

“What’s she saying?” said Nibs.

“Maybe she’s showing you the word,” said Sarah.

Tink pointed to Sarah and nodded, reluctantly. She flew up and down again.

“Flying!” said Sarah. “Is that the word?”

Another nod.

“Peter was flying?” said Nibs.

Tink shook her head and repeated an earlier sound.

“Pirates,” said Nibs.

Tink nodded, then flew up and down.

“The pirates are flying?” said Nibs.

Tink nodded.

“Pirates don’t fly,” said the Twins.

“Tink’s saying they do,” said Nibs.

Tink was directly in front of Nibs’s face now, chiming urgently.

“Are you sure?” said Nibs.

Tink nodded rapidly.

“What’s she saying?” said Slightly.

“I think she’s saying Peter’s in danger,” said Nibs. “Very bad danger.”

Tink chimed again, pointed at Nibs, and nodded vigorously.

“I think she wants us to help,” said Nibs.

“But what can we do?” asked Slightly. “We can’t fly!”

“The Mollusks are coming,” Nibs told Tink, pointing out to sea and the canoes. “They’ll save Peter.”

Tink shook her head no, suddenly frantic again.

“Of course they will!” Nibs said.

But Tink continued to emit the high-pitched chimes while shaking her little head. Then she reached up and wrapped her hand around her neck.

And that needed no translation.

CHAPTER 37

B
OLD ABALONE PADDLED FROM THE STERN
of the lead canoe, his weapons—bow and arrows, spear, and a long knife carved from sea-turtle shell—leaning against the thwart. In the Mollusk language, he called to the warrior in the bow of the canoe, Stalwart Barnacle. “The pirate must be mad. He is headed right for us.”

“Strange. The hairy-faced coward always runs away.”

“Strange, indeed,” agreed Bold Abalone, frowning. He wondered if Hook was planning a surprise, but could think of nothing that would threaten his fleet. He raised his left hand and pointed forward, the signal for attack.

The canoes picked up speed and fanned out, forming a V.

“Look!” called Stalwart Barnacle. “They are stern-heavy! They must be leaking badly!”

Indeed, the bow of the pirate ship seemed to be rising, revealing more and more of the slimy hull, covered with seaweed and barnacles. Bold Abalone tried to make sense of the ship’s odd angle, wondering if the ballast had shifted. Wary of a trap, he raised his hand. At once, all the warriors stopped paddling, the canoes gliding to a stop.

The pirate ship kept coming—and rising. The warriors began to mutter nervously. Then several shouted with alarm as the ship, its hull dripping, rose completely out of the water.

It was flying!

Only once before had Bold Abalone seen such a sight—more than a century ago, when this same ship had flown to the island and released the huge cascade of starstuff—brighter than the noonday sun—that had transformed Mollusk Island forever. Now, watching Hook’s ship, Bold Abalone knew his father’s worst fear had been realized: Hook had found out what was in the gold box brought by Sarah and J.D. The pirate now had the power of starstuff.

Bold Abalone threw down his paddle and waved both arms out to the side, frantically signaling for the canoes to separate.

Hook had lured him into a trap.

“Steady! Steady now!” Hook called out to his helmsman, his eyes on the canoes below.

Hook was far from brilliant. But he was ruthless and cunning, and he had learned the hard way, from his time on this cursed island, that the advantage went to the man with the higher ground. He was also an excellent sailor, and had once flown this very ship many miles with the help of a considerable amount of starstuff.

Now he was flying it again. He’d gotten it aloft himself, carefully pouring starstuff onto the hull. It had taken a large amount—far more than it took to enable Hook and his men to fly—but finally the ship had lifted free of the water.

From the bow, Hook watched the Mollusk canoes below, the warriors paddling furiously to get away. He smiled. After all these years of humiliating defeats, he was chasing the savages. They were fleeing from him.

He glanced behind him. “Keep the ballast coming!” he shouted.

Every ship carries heavy weight in its keel to keep it stable. In the
Jolly Roger
, this weight was in the form of large rocks loaded by Hook’s men when they had repaired and refloated the partially sunken ship on Mollusk Island. The men were now carrying some of these rocks topside, making a pile in the bow.

Hook looked down again. The ship was almost directly over the closest of the Mollusk canoes.

“Ready, men!” roared Hook.

The pirates grabbed rocks, some so heavy it took two men to lift them.

They carried them to the ship’s rail.

“On my command!” yelled Hook. He peered downward.

“Now!”

The men let loose a rain of heavy rocks. There were cries of alarm from the Mollusks below. Hook felt joy in his heart as the warriors leaped from the canoe. Most of the rocks missed, but two of them slammed into the now-empty canoe, breaking it into pieces. From the other canoes, some warriors shot arrows at the ship. A few stuck into the hull, but none posed a threat to the pirates.

“Reload!” bellowed Hook, and his men scurried for more rocks. “Starboard,” he yelled to the helmsman, positioning the ship over the next canoe.

“Now!”

More rocks went over the side and another canoe was shattered. The pirates, roaring with delight, grabbed still more rocks. Below, the terrified Mollusks paddled frantically, but they could not outrace the flying ship. In a few minutes, half of the fleet of twenty had been destroyed, but Hook was relentless. He intended to destroy them all.

Soon there was just one canoe left, the one Hook had saved for last: the canoe under the command of Fighting Prawn’s son, Bold Abalone. Hook was going to use this canoe to deliver a message that the Mollusks would remember.

“Ready the toy ship!” hollered Hook. He smiled, savoring the cleverness of it—smashing this canoe with the very vessel that had brought the new starstuff to the island.

It took four men to hoist the little ship onto the rail.

“Steady!” Hook called, calculating the precise moment to release it.

“Now!”
he shouted. He watched the ship drop toward its target, then roared in triumph as it smashed, perfectly aimed, into the center of the canoe. All the Mollusks were swimming now; their fleet was destroyed.

Hook’s heart swelled with pride. The rout was complete. Finally, after all these years, he had won a decisive victory.

He ordered the helmsman to turn the ship, putting it on a course back to the pirate side of the island. Hook sensed that the ship was descending gently now that the men were no longer heaving weight over the side. He thought he might have to pour some more starstuff into the hull. He wondered how much was left in the gold box. He hoped it was a great deal. He had plans for it.

He strode back amidships. Peter was there, still wrapped in the net, which in turn had been tied with rope, binding Peter to the mainmast so tightly that he could barely move a muscle.

Hook stood with his face only a few inches from Peter’s.

“Your savage friends are swimming for their lives,” he said. “They didn’t care for having rocks dropped on them.” Hook smiled an ugly smile. “I got that idea from you, boy—from the time long ago when you dropped mangoes on my head. Remember? Thought you were clever, you did, because you could fly. But your flying days are over, boy. I’m the one
who’s flying now.”

Hook leaned closer. “Things have changed on this island,” he said. “For me, it’s going to be much better. But for you…”

He lifted his hook, holding the needle-sharp point an inch from Peter’s right eye.

“For you, it’s going to be much, much worse.”

CHAPTER 38

F
ROM THE MOUNTAINSIDE LEDGE
overlooking the water, Sarah and J.D. watched the rout with the Lost Boys and Tink. When the pirates dropped the little ship from Peter Pan’s Flight, smashing the last Mollusk canoe still afloat, the group stood in stunned silence for several seconds.

“I can’t believe it,” said Nibs. “Hook won.”

“Hook never wins,” said the Twins.

“He did this time,” said Nibs. “And he’s got Peter.” This drew a burst of bells from Tink.

“He’s also got the starstuff,” said Sarah, dejectedly. “And he’s figured out how to use it, obviously.”

“Where’s he going now?” said J.D., pointing at the pirate ship. It had executed a graceful turn in the sky, its course now taking it past Skull Rock and around the island coast curving away to the left.

“Looks like he’s going back to his side,” said Slightly.

Tink was in Nibs’s face now, chiming urgently.

“Slower,” said Nibs.

More chimes.

“What’s she saying?” said Curly.

“I think she’s saying we need to go rescue Peter.”

“From the pirates?” said Tootles. “Shouldn’t we ask the Mollusks to do that?”

“I don’t think the Mollusks are in any position to go after Hook,” said J.D., looking at the battle scene below. “Their canoes are wrecked and half their guys are still swimming.”

“Maybe we should wait until they can help,” said Tootles. “Or at least until morning. It’ll be dark soon.”

This produced a furious, head-shaking eruption from Tink.

“Tink’s right,” said Nibs. “We don’t have time to wait. Hook hates Peter, you all know that. No telling what he’ll do.”

“Besides…” added Slightly, “…if Hook captured us, Peter wouldn’t wait. He’d come rescue us.”

The others nodded. Peter had his flaws, but he always stood by his friends.

“All right, then,” said Nibs. “It’s settled. We head for the pirate side.” He turned to Sarah and J.D. “You can go back to the Mollusk village by the path we took to get up here.”

Sarah shook her head. “We’re going with you.” J.D. gave her a look, but said nothing.

“Are you sure?” said Nibs. “It’s a rough hike over the mountain. And not so safe on the pirate side.”

“Especially at night,” said Curly.

“There’s snakes,” said the Twins.

“I’m sure,” said Sarah. “If we don’t get the starstuff, J.D. and I can’t get back across the bridge. Besides, this whole mess is my fault. Peter would never have been captured if I hadn’t shown up here.”

Tink glared at Sarah and chimed something that needed no translation.

“All right, then,” said Nibs. “Let’s get going.”

They started up the mountainside, following a steep, little-used, zigzagging path that at times disappeared altogether. The sun soon dropped low in the sky, producing a spectacular sunset followed by darkness, but a bright half moon gave them enough light to make their way. Sarah, who was not a big fan of snakes, walked close behind J.D.

After they’d been trudging upward for almost three hours, they came to the ridge that divided the island roughly in half. There was a clearing there from which they could see the water far below on both sides, the surf forming pale, shifting lines in the moonlight. Nibs announced that they would rest for a few minutes. Tink objected, but everyone ignored her, the Lost Boys plopping to the ground.

Sarah and J.D. sat down next to each other a few yards away.

“What if we don’t get the box back?” she whispered.

“We
have
to get the box back,” he said. “I really, really don’t want to spend eternity here.”

“Me neither,” she said. “I just want to go home.” She put her face in her hands for a moment, on the verge of tears, then took a deep breath and exhaled. “We’ll get the box,” she said. “We have to, so we will.”

“That’s not all we have to get,” said J.D.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking about it; how we’re going to use the bridge at this end. First of all, we need to locate it. Fighting Prawn said Einstein and Pete Carmoody used it, so I’m hoping he’ll know where it is. Second, of course, we need to get enough starstuff to activate it. But then there’s the question of when we activate it. That gets a little tricky.”

“Why?” asked Sarah.

“Okay, if I have this figured right, we need to cross the bridge back to our universe when it’s operable at the Magic Kingdom end. That means at exactly the same time that we came here.”

“At 9:07 p.m.,” said Sarah.

“Yup. And how do we know when it’s 9:07 p.m. in Disney World? We look at my watch. I set the time exactly before we crossed in this direction. So it ought to work going the other way.”

“So why is that tricky?”

J.D. held up his left wrist. “I don’t have my watch.”
“Oh my god,” said Sarah. “I forgot. Hook took it!”
“Right. So we have to get the starstuff and my watch.”
Sarah’s shoulders slumped. “How are we going to do
that?” she said.

“I don’t know,” said J.D. They sat in subdued silence for another minute.

Then Nibs, prodded by Tinker Bell, started the group moving again, heading down the mountainside into pirate territory. Every now and then, Tink would dart ahead, flying above the treetops, then return to chime something in Nibs’s ear. Sarah noticed that the Lost Boys were acting more nervous than they had earlier, saying little, walking closer together, jumping at jungle sounds. She turned to Tootles, who was walking behind her.

“Is there something we should be worried about?” she whispered. “Aside from Hook, I mean. And the snakes.”

“Yes,” said Tootles.

“What?”

“You see those droppings on the trail?”

“No. I can barely see the trail.”

“Oh. That explains why you keep stepping in them.”

“What?”

“The droppings. You keep stepping in them.”

“What kind of droppings?” said Sarah, scraping her shoes against a bush.

“Boars. Wild boars. There’s a lot of them on this side of
the island.”

“And they’re dangerous?”

“They can be. But that’s not what we’re worried about.”

Sarah was getting exasperated. “So what are we worried about?”

“Mister Grin,” said Tootles.

“Oh,” said Sarah, looking around nervously. “You mean he’s real, too?”

“Real?” said Tootles.

“Forget it,” said Sarah.

“We never forget about Mister Grin,” said Tootles.

They walked on in silence for another hour, making their way slowly down the steep mountainside. Tink returned from another one of her scouting missions and chimed something to Nibs. He halted the line.

“Quiet, everyone,” he whispered. “Listen.”

They listened. From somewhere in the dark distance below, drifting over the treetops, came the sound of men shouting and singing. There was an explosion of some kind.

“The pirate fort,” said Nibs. “They’re celebrating.”

“I guess they don’t think the Mollusks will attack tonight,” said Slightly.

“I suspect they’re right about that,” said Nibs. “I suspect the Mollusks won’t be attacking for a while.”

“So what’s our plan?” said J.D.

“We get closer to the fort,” said Nibs. “Then we wait for
dawn. The pirates will fall asleep. Then we attack.”

“We what?” said J.D.

“Attack.”

“Wait a minute,” said J.D. “There’s eight of us, and we have no weapons. How do we attack a fort full of pirates?”

Tink chimed something.

“We have a weapon,” said Nibs.

“We do?” said Slightly.

“What is it?” said the Twins.

“Well, we don’t have it at the moment,” said Nibs. “But we will. Tink will see to that. Right now our job is to get down to the fort and be in position by dawn.” He started down the trail, Tink zooming ahead. The others followed Nibs with varying levels of enthusiasm. It was another hour before they reached the clearing that surrounded the pirate fort. Its outer wall was ten feet high and made of thick logs, from behind which came shouts and whoops, though the celebration seemed to be winding down. Every now and then a pirate would float above the fort, spinning in midair, giggling wildly—evidence that Hook was still dispensing starstuff.

“I hope they don’t use it all up,” Sarah whispered to J.D.

“I know,” he answered. “He must have used a lot of it before to get the ship to fly.”

They squatted in the undergrowth watching the fort, swatting at insects, waiting for daylight. They were hot, tired,
and thirsty. And afraid.

To the east, the sky began to turn from black to gray.

“Where’s the weapon?” the Twins asked Nibs, for the dozenth time.

“It will be here,” he answered, also for the dozenth time, although he sounded less confident than he had.

The sky grew lighter. The fort was quiet.

Then Tink arrived, chiming at Nibs with quiet urgency.

Then they saw what was behind her.

Sarah, stifling a scream, turned to run.

“It’s all right,” whispered Nibs, grabbing her arm.

“How do you know it’s all right?” she asked.

“Because Tink says so,” said Nibs.

“And you believe her?”

“I have to,” said Nibs. “Come on.”

Hook was the only pirate still awake. Smee and the others sprawled in the dirt all around him, drooling and snoring, exhausted from the night of revelry. But Hook was too elated to sleep. He stood amid the slumbering men, holding the gold box—the reason for his joy, the source of the power that had enabled him, at long last, to defeat the savages.

And capture the boy.

Hook ambled over to the center of the compound, where a stout post was embedded firmly in the ground. There was an iron ring bolted to the post. Attached to this ring was a short, heavy, iron chain that ran to another iron ring fitted snugly around Peter’s neck. The ring on the post was positioned just high enough so that Peter could not sit on the ground, but also just low enough so that he could not stand fully upright. He was forced to remain in an uncomfortable crouch; if he dozed and allowed his body to sag, the choking pressure of the neck ring jerked him painfully awake. To make matters worse, his hands were bound tightly behind his back. He had spent the night in hideous discomfort.

Hook had never been happier.

Peter’s eyes were closed, but Hook knew he could not be sleeping. He gave Peter a sharp kick in the shin, which caused Peter’s head to jerk upright until the chain stopped it violently. Peter glared at Hook with eyes reddened from exhaustion and pain.

“Been crying, have we?” said Hook.

Peter said nothing.

“You know,” said Hook, conversationally, “I had intended to kill you as soon as I captured you. But it has been so much fun seeing you this way…I hate to see it end.”

He touched his hook to Peter’s neck. Peter drew back, but only a few inches before the chain stopped him. The hook found his neck again, its point just brushing Peter’s skin.

“But know this, boy,” said Hook. “You will die. And soon.”

He twitched the hook slightly. A bead of blood appeared
on Peter’s neck. Hook saw pain in Peter’s eyes, and fear. This pleased him.

Then he saw something else, just for a flickering instant, before Peter masked it. The boy had seen something. Hook whirled, and he saw it, too: a small, agile figure climbing over the wall near the fort’s heavy gate. The boy dropped to the ground, followed quickly by a second boy.

“Intruders!” Hook bellowed, kicking the sleeping men around him. “Get them!”

The pirates were staggering to their feet, blinking.

“What is it, Cap’n?” said Smee.

“Intruders!”

Smee blinked. “Where, Cap’n?”

“There, you idjit!” yelled Hook, shoving Smee. “By the gate!”

As Smee and the others stumbled across the compound, Hook saw that the intruders were two of the Lost Boys. They ran to the gate, quickly slid aside the heavy plank that held it shut, then began opening the gate. Through the opening dashed three more Lost Boys.

“Get them!” Hook yelled again, but he was feeling less concerned now. If the Mollusks were attacking, he would have cause for worry. But the Mollusks were beaten. These were just children making a pathetic attempt to rescue their captured leader. They were no match for Hook and his men. Nobody was a match for Hook, as long as he had the gold box.

The gate was wide open now. The pirates were stumbling around chasing after the boys, who were so far eluding them. But the boys were making no effort to get to Peter. Hook frowned. What kind of rescue attempt was this?

Suddenly, it occurred to him: the scampering boys were a diversion.

“Close the gate!” he bellowed. “Close the gate!”

It was several seconds before the pirates heard him. Abandoning their pursuit of the boys, they headed for the gate.

Then they stopped.

Then they turned and ran back into the compound directly toward Hook, their faces white with fear.

Hook opened his mouth to order them back to the gate. But before he could emit a sound, he heard the sound he feared most in all the world—the steady ticking of a clock. It was the only clock on Mollusk Island; it had been infused long ago with starstuff, and since then it had never stopped, despite its strange location—inside the stomach of Mister Grin.