Second on the Right (41 page)

"London," she replied. "I don’t wish to be
here. Peter is a horrible boy. He, he—” she choked on her words,
tears welling up in her eyes.

James leaned forward, "My dear, are you all
right?"

"Promise me," she whispered in a hoarse
voice. "Promise me you'll take us with you. Allow me to stay here!
That horrible thing has changed my brothers. They don’t even
remember me! I'll do anything,
anything
to leave!"

James frowned. "For such a young girl, you
shouldn't say such things. I'm afraid I can make no such promises,
other than to ensure your safety."

"I'm thirteen!" she said indignantly.

"Thirteen," he mused, raising an eyebrow. “If
you will excuse me, my lady." Rising and giving a slight bow, he
headed out the door.

On deck, the crew was busy in various
activities, including gambling and lying about.

"Quiet!" James yelled. “I need to think.”

Immediately, the crew hushed.

"Hoist them up," he ordered at last. He had
no idea where the boys’ loyalties lay. "Let’s get this over with."
The prisoners were dragged from the hold and arranged in a line in
front of James. "Bring out the girl!" he demanded.

Wendy was brought before him, eyes sparkling
in the moonlight. She had taken her hair tie out, allowing her hair
to spill about her shoulders. The front of her night gown had been
loosely tied to allow for more skin to show. A cloak had been
wrapped around her shoulders for warmth. James moved close to her
face.

"My dear," said James sweetly, "I need you to
identify your brothers. I shall do my best to free them from this
terror once I have my son.”

She flushed for a moment. "Oh, thank you,
Captain," she said in a breathy whisper.

"Aye," he said with a slight smile. James
placed a hand on her shoulder. He was taken aback by the soft moan
that escaped her lips at his touch. He was surprised to see her
look of longing, her face flushed.

Is she actually attracted to me?
He
was puzzled, but didn’t have time to think, for the familiar tick
of the crocodile sounded over the side of the ship. "Smee! Quickly!
Find her a safe spot. She must be near enough to help with her
brothers,” he explained. Smee led her to the mast, instructing her
to stay there.

They all heard it and knew immediately what
it was and who it was after. Every head on the ship whipped to one
direction; not to the water where the sound came from, but to
Captain Hook. The sound came steadily nearer.

"It's gone, Captain," Smee said, wiping off
his spectacles. The pirates realized the ticking had stopped.

“That was no crocodile, Smee,” James murmured
as he listened intently for the tick, but there was no sound. "He’s
here.”

Cecco stopped at the door to the captain’s
quarters, which had just closed. Curious, he slowly opened and
entered into the room, sword at the ready. After he had completely
disappeared inside, a dreadful screech emanated from his throat.
The sound was followed by a crowing. Cecco stumbled back out on
deck before collapsing, a knife wound in his back. Blood seeped out
from laceration.

"What was that?" shouted James, waiting for
someone to respond. No one seemed to know exactly what had
happened. James moved for the cabin from where the sound had come,
but was interrupted by the sound of crying. James stopped, eyebrows
raised. The group of boys trembled in unison.

Smee approached and whispered, "Cecco is
dead, Cap'in. Stabbed.”

James glared at Smee. Returning his attention
to his quarters, James whispered, "Peter.”

"Cap'in. Beggin' yer pardon, but I be hearin’
Starkey's been speakin' o' mutiny. He be alone in the mutiny," Smee
whispered to him.

James rubbed the corners of his eyes. He
didn’t need this right now, but he had to deal with it before
things got out of control. His temper rose along with his hook. He
traced a finger around the tip. With a snarl, James addressed
Starkey. "I think I heard you volunteer to walk the plank,
Starkey."

"No!" Starkey cried.

"My hook thinks you did," said James,
crossing to him. "I wonder if it would not be advisable, Starkey,
to humor me, or the hook?"

"Sir, captain, sir, please," replied Starkey
doggedly.

"Is this mutiny?" asked James more pleasantly
than ever. As Benedict said, follow the code.

"Captain, mercy! I meant nothing by it!"
Starkey whimpered, all a tremble now.

"I warned you, Starkey, warned you what would
happen," said James, proffering his claw, advancing on him and
causing Starkey to stumble backwards, towards the plank.

Starkey looked around. All the pirates
watched, but none offered help. Hook continued his approach. With a
scream, Starkey leapt upon the plank. James took a quick swipe, the
tip of his hook scraping Starkey’s abdomen. The pirate fell back
into the sea, followed by his own screams, as well as hisses,
ticks, and violent thrashing.

"Now," James said courteously, "is there any
other talk of mutiny?" All shook their heads no. A crow sounded
again, this time high up in the mast where the fog currently hung
like a curtain.

While Wendy watched Captain Hook in awe,
Beary snuck up behind her. He held a dagger, but was so nervous
that he dropped it. When he reached to pick it back up, his hand
slipped, and he cut himself. Wiping the blood hastily on his pants,
Beary grabbed Wendy’s shoulder and whispered for her to hide. He’d
heard Peter crow.

“My brothers?” Wendy asked quietly.

“They’re here.” Beary pointed towards the
port and starboard railings.

Wendy looked, but didn’t immediately see
anyone. She squinted and concentrated on the port side. Eventually,
she could make out her brothers, John and Michael, hidden behind a
few crates. Her eyes welled up with tears.

“It’s time,” Beary whispered as he pulled her
below deck. “Stay here,” he commanded.

Taking two steps at a time, Beary stepped
back out on deck. He nodded to the group of boys hidden among the
dark corners of the ship. They had taken advantage of Peter’s
distraction to escape their restraints. Beary gave one final look
around before wrapping himself in Wendy’s cloak. He took up the
same position she had previously occupied. There, he waited as
Peter had instructed.

Movement came from every direction. James
couldn’t tell whether it was merely wind or shadows. He swung his
sword. It swooshed as it cut through nothing but air. A banshee cry
from the top of the mast grew louder. James looked up to see fog
and darkness swirl and part as Peter crawled head first down the
mast. James looked over at Wendy, who was standing in the spot the
creature was approaching. Her safety was threatened. He knew he had
to do something. Yet, seeing her standing so still, with a cloak
around her, suspicion caused an alarm to go off in his head. He
carefully moved closer.

The figure flung off the cloak. Twice James
opened his mouth to speak and failed. In that moment his heart
broke. "Robbie," he whispered.

James found his son before him. Beary’s eyes
were filled with anger that James couldn’t understand. While
distracted by the sight of his son, a group of savage boys cried
out as they surrounded him. He was able to keep them all at bay. He
was more than a match for all of them. Repeatedly, they tried to
close in on him, but he fought them off.

"Put up your swords, boys," whispered Peter,
"This man is mine."

A chill ran down James’ spine as he turned to
Peter. The others, Robbie included, drew back and formed a ring
around the boy and the man. For a long stretch, the two enemies
stared at one another, James shuddering slightly, and Peter with a
strange impish grin upon his face.

"Peter," said James, gathering courage and
strength.

"Aye, James Hook," he answered, a breeze
picking up and blowing through the ship.

The two circled. Seconds ticked by. Peter
tapped his blade against James’ weapon. James never faltered.
Peter, the embodiment of youth and impatience, lunged at James. The
sword fight began. Neither had the advantage. Both seemed evenly
matched. Peter had agility from the dust. James had the experience
from Benedict. Both were superb swordsmen.

The staccato of metal on metal resounded over
the ship. Peter forced James up the stairs. The captain swung hard.
A ferocious swoosh sounded. The boy ducked, James’ blade just
missing him. The sword slammed into the helm. Splinters of wood
fell on Peter’s head. Peter, in turn, stabbed at the captain. He
narrowly missed his arm. He stabbed, again missing James’ left
hand.

As the fight wore on, James’ swings and
thrusts slowed. Peter swung; his knife crashed loudly against the
captain’s sword. The force of his swing caused James to waiver.
Peter crouched down. With a spin of his leg, he knocked his
opponent off his feet. Peter stood and crowed triumphantly. James
scrambled to regain his footing, but Peter kicked him in his side,
knocking him down. The air forced out of his lungs, James gasped
for breath. He scraped and pulled away with his hook.

Crowing issued from Peter’s lips. Peter
strode over to the captain, proud to have brought him down to his
knees. With one glance at Beary, Peter raised his knife and swung
down hard.

“Argh!” Peter cried out in rage.

James had blocked the knife. He kicked hard
with both his legs. Peter fell onto his back, skidding across the
deck. He stood and flew up onto the railing. Gaining his breath,
Peter pushed off, speeding towards the captain. James blocked with
his sword. He knocked the boy back again. When Peter stood up, he
glared at James. The eyes of this boy, this creature, burned bright
red, but the captain was courageous, made stronger when he saw
Robbie. He would do whatever it took to save the only family he had
left.

Peter snarled and leapt forward, taking James
by surprise. The captain barely managed to block the knife from
taking out his eye. Unfortunately, it followed the curve of the
hook. He cried out in pain as the tip reached and pierced his skin,
tracing down his jaw line. James kicked the boy back against the
railing. He himself stumbled back, tying to gauge the damage to his
face with the back of his left hand. He winced as he gingerly
dabbed away the blood now dripping from the raw wound. The cut
seemed to be superficial, though no less painful. Gritting his
teeth, he stepped forward.
This fight will end soon. It must end
soon,
he thought.

Peter watched the captain for a moment.
Arrogance oozed from his stance, even from his grin. James knew
Peter had the advantage. He was blinded by not just love, but his
uncontrollable temper. He would slip, and when he did, he feared
Peter would be able to end the fight. As Peter swung around in a
showy stance, James charged him and his thrust met true, slicing up
into Peter's ribs and through his heart. The creature’s eyes
widened. Robbie gasped in horror. No one else seemed to take
notice. Immediately dead on hitting the floor, Peter's fingers
released the weapon with which he had been fighting James. At the
knife’s hilt, a small glass ball began to glow a faint blue hue.
James stared in amazement.