The Neverland Wars

Chapter 8

Emma

"I'm going to show you a series of photographs," Seb says to me before pulling the first photograph from his folder. "I want you to tell us everything you can about them, okay?"

I nod. "You got it, boss."

Beside him, Peter is silent, his green eyes studying me intently as he smirks. My father requested that the two of them debrief me, thinking I might be less guarded when talking to my friends versus agents I wasn't familiar with.

The first photo is of Melanie; and my heart clenches uncomfortably in my chest. "That's Mel. She was spliced with Inferno around the same time I got Electrobolt."

"How long was she in the lab with you?"

"She was one of the first people I remember meeting. We weren't really given many opportunities to speak to each other but she helped me whenever she could."

"Where was she from?" Seb asks. "Wonderland? Neverland?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I didn't believe her," I shrug. "They brought her in from a psychiatric ward in Wonderland. She'd been there for awhile. Kept going on about growing up in a 'city in the sky'."

Peter scribbles something down on the notebook as Seb continues. "Do you know how old she was?"

"Maybe my age? A little older? Like I said, we didn't have many opportunities to have a conversation."

"Do you know what cell she was kept in?"

"A17."

He nods, glancing over at Peter. "Ready to move on?"

Peter nods, and Seb removes the picture of Melanie, replacing it with one of a dark-haired boy with blue eyes.

"That's Ben," I respond automatically. "B39."

"What was he spliced with?" Peter asks. "Cyclone, right?"

I nod as Seb glances at him, surprised he knew. Of course, I told him last night. "What is Cyclone?"

"You can manipulate the air around you," Peter responds before I can, glancing down at his tablet, obviously having done his research. "From what this document is describing, you can basically throw certain spots of air around the room that will pick up your enemies and launch them back."

"Cyclone doesn't have a history of being used in battle," I add. "It was always more of a party trick plasmid. But Ben's Cyclone was strong. He could hold you in place where you stood, making the air around you suffocate you. He could launch you to one side of the room before picking you up and tossing you to the other side."

My mind drifts back to one of the many demonstrations the Hatter had us do in the Queen's lab.

Ben and I face each other, neither of us moving. The Hatter stands between us, his hands on his hips. His unruly orange hair is tied at the nape of his neck, and his shirt sleeves are pushed up his wiry forearms.

"This is just a good clean test," he says. "Do try your best not to kill each other."

Ben swallows nervously. "Emma, I don't want to do this--"

"It's okay," I nod. "It'll be fine."

"Do not speak," the Hatter orders. "Show us what you've got."