The Neverland Wars

Chapter 9

Peter

Bang! Rip! The sound of screeching metal pierces my ears. I'm tossed upward, my seatbelt keeping me in my seat but nearly choking me in the process. The G-force inside the hovercraft is so strong I'm thrown back in my seat, unable to cran my neck to see what the damage is.

Something big hit us, I think. Or did we hit something?

"Tink, status report!" my hands fumble at my seatbelt, trying to free myself so I can figure out who needs help

What's happening? I think frantically. What's happening? What's happening?

System--sys--system fail--failure. Tink repeats over and over. My hands find the buckle of my seatbelt and release me, and I'm thrown against the windshield. I realize quickly the ship is spinning out of control and--much to my horror--the entire back of the ship is gone. Seamus, one of the Lost Boys closest to me in age, is hanging out the back of the ship, holding onto a large power cord, dangling freely in the air.

"Peter!" he bellows. "Help me!"

I try to fly, mustering all my strength to try and fly against the flow of air around us, creating a vacuum inside the cockpit of the ship. I'm pinned to the window, unable to help my friend, watching in horror as his hand slips, and he's sucked out of the gaping hole.

He's gone. Everyone's gone. What happened? I scream as the ship is violently hurled towards the ground, making an impact with a terrible groaning sound as I feel my entire back start to burn. Something knocks me in the head, making black spots dance across my eyes as I taste blood in my mouth.

I lay amongst the smoking wreckage, floating in and out of consciousness, pain exploding in my back. My legs are pinned under the pilot seats, leaving me completely immobile. I can't move, I can't scream. I'm choking on smoke and losing blood, fighting to stay awake.

"T--Tink," I choke out. "Are you there?"

System. Fail--failure. She repeats. System failure.

I wake from my nightmare suddenly, my fingers gripping the sheets to the point where I hear my joints crack. It takes me a second to regain my bearings and figure out where I am. Okay...my room...my bed...and Emma. She's still here, tucked under my arm, her one leg tangled between mine. She's here. Just like she has been for the past three weeks now. We're safe.

I realize almost instantly that I'm not gripping the sheets at all, but rather the excess fabric of her shirt. I release her almost frantically, sliding out from under her quickly, sitting up straight. She stirs at my absence, lifting her head.

"What's wrong?" she asks, her voice thick with sleep.

"Nothing," I shrug it off.

"You're lying."

"Bad dream," I respond, avoiding her gaze.

"Me too," she sits up beside me, yawning. "What time is it?"

"Early."

"Are you going to try and sleep more?"

"I don't think I can, if I'm being honest. I was going to go for a walk, I think."

"I'll join you."

"You should try to go back to sleep."

"I'm already up. Your twitchy muscles saw to that."