Disclaimer: Setting, concepts, world, etc. belong to the brilliant mind that is Garth Nix. The characters, however, are mine. MINE, I say, ALL MINE! Nyaha.
Welcome to Neverland. Population: Dwindling
Jessica "Jei" Lee
Chapter Two : The Lost Boys
When she woke again, she was moving, crammed into a red metal wagon that jolted and creaked over the uneven ground. Small objects rolled in the wagon with her, bumping ever once in a while against the walls of the wagon with the hollow tang! of plastic against metal. By some minor miracle she had not lost even one bottle of pills.
Shiv glanced back at her from the front of the wagon, where the handle was, and grinned, the same viciously amused expression Shiv had worn often in both the Breeding Pens and the Dorms, the one that made Shiv look all at once aggressive, friendly, and incomprehensibly dangerous. "Nice ride, neh? I used a log to make it."
Riley smiled groggily back, feeling guilty about being a burden yet grateful that it was one that Shiv was willing to bear. An unpleasant thought jarred her--her tracer! with it still functioning, the Overlords could find them anywhere!--and she shot a glance to her wrist. The lump that had been under her skin ever since the day she had been taken into the Dorms was gone. She examined her wrist for incision lines and, finding none, looked up at Shiv.
"Where's my tracer?"
"I turned it into protein," Shiv grunted, straining to pull the wagon up a ridge. One wheel caught on a rock; Shiv jerked at the handle, and the rock was torn from the earth, the wagon shooting forward over the ridge. All of them--Shiv, Riley, the wagon--went tumbling down the other side with a crash and a curse.
Sitting up, Riley quickly gathered up her pill bottles, cradling them in her lap. "How long have I been unconscious?"
Shiv turned over, frowning up at the lightening sky. "We've been moving for about an hour. Trackers passed us twice before that... You did a good job with your trick, but I wasn't sure how long it would last with you out like a dead bulb, so I made a log into the wagon and off we went. We'd better get going soon, they could be--"
A rustling in the trees cut Shiv off mid-sentence, and they both turned sharply to look toward the source of the noise. Shiv stood slowly, a stone gripped tightly in one white-knuckled hand. Riley blinked, and suddenly Shiv wasn't holding a stone at all, but a knife.
"Hoy!" a voice called out from the woods. "Are the two of you human?"
Shiv was, as usual, quick to reply. "No, you twit, we're giant jelly donuts. Watch us roll!"
"Identity yourselves." This voice sounded older than the first and came from behind them. Riley flinched. Were they surrounded?
"I'm Shivara Siskin Sine," Shiv said, as cool as you please, "and her name's Riley Faith. She's hurt."
More rustling, and the owners of the voices stepped out from behind the trees. There were only two of them, after all. They stood for a moment in silence, each warily eyeing the other. There was Riley, looking like a fallen angel with her blood-soaked white gown, matted black hair, deathly pale skin, and wide, clear blue eyes that easily brought to mind the blankly shocked expression of a startled doe. Above her stood her whip-tongued guardian, brandishing the newly created knife and making a good show of knowing how to use it, cynical green eyes even more suspicious than usual, twigs and leaves sticking out of straw-like hair. The one who had asked if they were human was a small, nervous-looking mouse of a boy clutching a gun far too big for him to comfortably handle. The second boy was taller, older, dark hair shaved close to his head, gray eyes as cool and calculating as the rifle in his hands.
He rubbed his hand over the long barrel thoughtfully, then put the gun up, leaning it across his shoulder. Turning, he called out into the surrounding wilderness, "All clear. They aren't hostile."
A pitter-patter of feet sounded from around them, and four more boys stepped into the clearing, dressed like the first two in shirts and trousers of earthy tones that helped them blend in with the woods. Each was armed with a gun, some carrying clubs at their belts. The air was still.
The older boy stepped forward and extended a hand to Shiv, who looked at it for a long moment as if trying to decide whether to take it or to cut it off. Then that reckless grin was back on Shiv's face, and the two shook hands. Everyone else released breaths none of them had realized they'd been holding.
And that was how they met Erik Nottingham and his group of lost boys.
Author's Note: Future chapters are going to be longer, I promise. ^_^ This was originally part of the first chapter, but I divided the two because... I, uh... felt like it. Mew.
Jessica "Jei" Lee
Chapter Two : The Lost Boys
When she woke again, she was moving, crammed into a red metal wagon that jolted and creaked over the uneven ground. Small objects rolled in the wagon with her, bumping ever once in a while against the walls of the wagon with the hollow tang! of plastic against metal. By some minor miracle she had not lost even one bottle of pills.
Shiv glanced back at her from the front of the wagon, where the handle was, and grinned, the same viciously amused expression Shiv had worn often in both the Breeding Pens and the Dorms, the one that made Shiv look all at once aggressive, friendly, and incomprehensibly dangerous. "Nice ride, neh? I used a log to make it."
Riley smiled groggily back, feeling guilty about being a burden yet grateful that it was one that Shiv was willing to bear. An unpleasant thought jarred her--her tracer! with it still functioning, the Overlords could find them anywhere!--and she shot a glance to her wrist. The lump that had been under her skin ever since the day she had been taken into the Dorms was gone. She examined her wrist for incision lines and, finding none, looked up at Shiv.
"Where's my tracer?"
"I turned it into protein," Shiv grunted, straining to pull the wagon up a ridge. One wheel caught on a rock; Shiv jerked at the handle, and the rock was torn from the earth, the wagon shooting forward over the ridge. All of them--Shiv, Riley, the wagon--went tumbling down the other side with a crash and a curse.
Sitting up, Riley quickly gathered up her pill bottles, cradling them in her lap. "How long have I been unconscious?"
Shiv turned over, frowning up at the lightening sky. "We've been moving for about an hour. Trackers passed us twice before that... You did a good job with your trick, but I wasn't sure how long it would last with you out like a dead bulb, so I made a log into the wagon and off we went. We'd better get going soon, they could be--"
A rustling in the trees cut Shiv off mid-sentence, and they both turned sharply to look toward the source of the noise. Shiv stood slowly, a stone gripped tightly in one white-knuckled hand. Riley blinked, and suddenly Shiv wasn't holding a stone at all, but a knife.
"Hoy!" a voice called out from the woods. "Are the two of you human?"
Shiv was, as usual, quick to reply. "No, you twit, we're giant jelly donuts. Watch us roll!"
"Identity yourselves." This voice sounded older than the first and came from behind them. Riley flinched. Were they surrounded?
"I'm Shivara Siskin Sine," Shiv said, as cool as you please, "and her name's Riley Faith. She's hurt."
More rustling, and the owners of the voices stepped out from behind the trees. There were only two of them, after all. They stood for a moment in silence, each warily eyeing the other. There was Riley, looking like a fallen angel with her blood-soaked white gown, matted black hair, deathly pale skin, and wide, clear blue eyes that easily brought to mind the blankly shocked expression of a startled doe. Above her stood her whip-tongued guardian, brandishing the newly created knife and making a good show of knowing how to use it, cynical green eyes even more suspicious than usual, twigs and leaves sticking out of straw-like hair. The one who had asked if they were human was a small, nervous-looking mouse of a boy clutching a gun far too big for him to comfortably handle. The second boy was taller, older, dark hair shaved close to his head, gray eyes as cool and calculating as the rifle in his hands.
He rubbed his hand over the long barrel thoughtfully, then put the gun up, leaning it across his shoulder. Turning, he called out into the surrounding wilderness, "All clear. They aren't hostile."
A pitter-patter of feet sounded from around them, and four more boys stepped into the clearing, dressed like the first two in shirts and trousers of earthy tones that helped them blend in with the woods. Each was armed with a gun, some carrying clubs at their belts. The air was still.
The older boy stepped forward and extended a hand to Shiv, who looked at it for a long moment as if trying to decide whether to take it or to cut it off. Then that reckless grin was back on Shiv's face, and the two shook hands. Everyone else released breaths none of them had realized they'd been holding.
And that was how they met Erik Nottingham and his group of lost boys.
Author's Note: Future chapters are going to be longer, I promise. ^_^ This was originally part of the first chapter, but I divided the two because... I, uh... felt like it. Mew.
