Chapter 78
Chapter Seventy-Eight
HOOK
I have no idea how we get out of this place, nor do I care.
I push the door open to the house that I assume must be the house Alice grew up in.
Very English. A stately home of some kind.
Her family must be worth something to live in such a place, but either way, it doesn't matter. I'm getting her out of there.
I push the door open and squint at the sun. "This way," I say, not that I have any idea which way to go, but anywhere seems better than back in there with her parents.
She peers back to them, but lets me lead her, her hand in mine. I have my sword ready. "This way," Alice says, and she pulls me so we head towards the side of the house and not out the front gate. But the weather turns as soon as we round the corner. "This isn't the—"
But I'm not hearing her. I lower my sword and step out onto the hill, my boots crunching against the frozen ground. I push Alice back. "Watch it." Just as a cart, drawn by a single horse with matted mane, almost runs us both over. I let go of her and step out into the road.
The sky hangs low and grey like a dirty sheet.
The place reeks of smoked meat and fish, the stench clinging to my clothes.
The air is thick with salt and memories.
The sea, mixed in with dirt and grime. I lift my hand in front of my face.
It isn't mine. It doesn't feel like mine.
My fingers are foreign things. Wind whips at my face, biting cold and carrying the sharp scent of the ocean.
A smell that once meant freedom now does nothing but turn my stomach to acid.
"Sam..."
I'm at the docks. I don't even think about it as I run along the wooden planks, each one creaking beneath my weight.
Past all the moorings, past the fishing boats with their peeling paint and salt-crusted ropes.
Past sailors with weathered faces passing crates between hands rough as bark.
Wooden boxes of fish, woven baskets of crabs.
The ground beneath me is slick and treacherous, littered with fish heads and slimy guts that shine in the weak light.
I run through them, boots slipping, the stench rising with each step.
The voices pull me forward. The shouting. The crying. I skid, almost falling, round the corner that's seared into my brain like a brand.
I even know what's going to happen, but I can't stop it.
A hand, calloused and strong, grabs me by the back of my jacket and yanks me back, nearly knocking me to my knees.
The fabric cuts into my throat. I shout out, voice cracking.
"Get off me," and then push at the hands that have me, desperate to break free from the past that won't let go.
"You think you can steal from us, you little piece of shit?"
It isn't just a him. It's a them. Three of them yanking me back, pulling me against the hard wood and not giving a shit if I stand or not.
I scramble to stay upright, to get to my feet, to even push them off, but they're bigger than me, stronger than me.
They smell like booze and sweat and rotting fish.
They drag me down the steps, to the lower level and then fling me, and I go then, tripping over my own feet, unable to stop it.
I go flying, flailing, falling with hands out.
I roll, but one of my knees slams off the hard floor, and the wind is knocked out of me.
I turn quickly, ready to protect myself from them, from the next onslaught. Josiah Carrick stands there, watching me. His face smudged with coal dust, those dark, cruel eyes fixed on me. "James," he says. One word, but there is nothing nice in his tone.
I'm not a coward. I don't run, but I try to scramble back, almost on instinct, but they're around me. I get to my feet, head away from them and immediately slam into Nate. Nate Flint...
He shoves me back. "Not this way," he says.
"Please. I..." Some strange part of me doesn't actually catch up.
I'm me. I'm fucking Captain Hook, feared in Neverland, ruler of the sea, and here.
.. I'm no one. I almost expect it not to be the same, but it is.
Nate's brother, big and burly. Older than everyone.
He drags out the small, squirming form. The cries and the protests. My heart stutters in my chest.
"Sam," I say. He's so little and weaker.
Weaker than I remember him, smaller. His face is dirty too.
There's fresh blood spilling from his nose, and his eye is already swollen.
"Let him go," I say, looking up to Josiah.
"Please. He's just a kid. He has nothing to do with this.
" Sam... Sam who followed me and I didn't know. Sam who wanted to be like me.
"You're a thief, Cookie. I don't like thieves in my circle. You know that."
"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I..." But I can't take my eyes off Sam. Everything in me screams at them, is ready to fight, wants to take him away from them. "Please."
"You cost me a lot of money and almost one of my patrons. I can't have that. I can't have people with me who do not know their places, who do not have my back. Do you understand?"
"I do. I'm sorry. Please. Let him go. Don't hurt him."
"Oh, I'm not going to hurt him." Josiah steps back, and there is a leer in his face.
He goes to Sam and grabs him by the hair.
He gets down level with him and Sam is crying, tears and snot spilling from his face.
He pushes at him. "I'd say you've got about ten minutes to do what you need.
" And without warning, he pushes Sam back, pushing him away.
Sam goes to grab him but Josiah steps out of the way so Sam has nothing to grab.
I scream. I don't realise I do it, the sound so loud as he goes backwards. He loses his footing, falling back off the side, tripping over the chains that separate the world from the edge and he's over it. I hear him scream, hear the splash.
Josiah peers over the edge.
"Looks like you've got a few minutes. He's going down."
"Please, he can't swim."
"Oh he can't? Well, you better run then.
" They push me away, releasing me. There's no way I'm getting past them to get to Sam.
I can only run, run away and back home, which I do.
Racing back across the steps across the path to where my mother's house is.
I feel the air burning in my lungs, feel the cold wind whipping against my face, the desperation clawing at my throat.
The small pouch they want is under the back step, under the rocks and the wood. I run around the back, digging at it with bare fingers, tearing my nails on the rough stone. It takes me no time to grab it, to snatch it and put it in my pocket.
"Hook," someone says as I run back. A woman, standing in the middle of the road. So out of place in her modern clothes, but I don't have time to register it. She goes to stand in my way, and I push around her.
"No," I say. "Get out of my way."
"Hook, stop."
She goes to grab my arm and I shove her off, making her fall back. She doesn't hit the ground but almost. Her face—familiar somehow—is twisted with concern, not anger.
I get back to the road that leads to the docks. Josiah, Nate and his brother are there, waiting for me. They have others with them now. Edward and Toby. Six of them against one of me. Six men against a desperate boy.
"Please," I say, my voice breaking. "Please don't." I give Josiah the pouch with shaking hands. "It's all there."
Josiah takes it from me, his gaze meeting mine.
He holds it there deliberately, savouring my fear before he finally opens the pouch and tips out five guineas.
The gold catches the grey light as they spill into his palm.
He counts them slowly, deliberately, each coin another second ticking away for Sam.
I go to get past them. They have what they need. I just need Sam. They can have the money. My pride. Everything. But as I move, Nate slams me in the chest, his palm flat against my sternum. The blow knocks me back a step.
"Not so fast."
"You have your money," I plead. "Please. I need to get to my brother."
"Hook." It's the woman again. I don't know what she wants, nor do I care. She's heading towards us, determination in her stride.
Josiah steps up to me, his face inches from mine. I can smell the gin on his breath, see the cold hatred in his eyes.
"You are lucky I didn't kill you. It is only because of who your father is, but you don't get to steal from me.
" Without warning, he balls his fist and slams it into my middle, making me double over, the wind knocked out of me.
Nate grabs my hair and yanks my head back up, forcing me to look at them.
Someone hits me. I don't know who it is. A fist connects with my jaw, snapping my head to the side. As I go down, a boot comes to my ribs, to my side, but I roll away, tasting blood in my mouth.
"Leave him alone!" the woman shouts, her voice distant through the ringing in my ears.
It's hard to run and to move. Pain lances through me with each breath, each step, but I have to get to Sam. I stagger down to the dock, to the steps that lead to the water and the Quay. Down the quay steps, my legs nearly giving out beneath me.
"No, no... Sam."
He's floating in the water, face down, his legs out, his arms at either side like he's flying.
So still. Too still. I throw myself into the cold water, the shock of it stealing my breath.
The North Sea bites into my skin like a thousand knives as I grab him, pull him out through the sludge, the muck.
"Sam..." His skin is blue-grey, his lips colourless. Water streams from his mouth and nose as I drag him onto the dock. He's so light. So small. "Sam, please."
I turn him over, push against his chest like I've seen the fishermen do. Nothing. Nothing.
"Breathe," I beg, my voice breaking. "Please breathe."
I push again, harder, water spilling from his lips. His head lolls to the side, lifeless.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, gathering him against me. His small body is cold, so cold against mine. I rock him back and forth. "I'm so sorry."
"Hook," comes a voice, distant and female. No. I can't listen. I ... "James." TMy brain can't reconcile what I see and what I feel and none of it makes any fucking sense.
Hands come to the side of my face, pressing in on me. "It's a dream, James. It's not real." She tugs at me, pulling me by the hand, back up the steps.
"I have to save Sam. I... I have to. He's not breathing. He's..."
Her eyes glisten and she nods. "I know."
I have to heave in the breath to steady my chest, to steady me and I glance back to where Sam floats dead in the water, in the rubbish, but he isn't there. We're on the floor in the hallway, marble and stone around us, those strange windows. "I didn't get back in time."