Chapter Two
Levi landed with a hard thud, forcing all the air from her lungs in a sharp grunt. She felt dizzy, her world spinning in grey circles.
She steadied herself, organized her thoughts into something beyond mere chaos and clutter. Remembered what had happened, what she'd been doing.
Griffin. Her chest contracted in panic. He'd been only yards away when they were all swallowed up... where was he?
"GRIFFIN!"
No answer. Levi stood shakily and took in her surroundings- high-tech city streets, empty and lifeless, cold. Snow was falling from the steely sky. Goose-bumps prickled across Levi's bare arms.
"GRIFFIN!" she screamed again. "GRIFFIN, WHERE ARE YOU!"
She began walking, eyes flickering for any sign of Griffin- he'd been wearing that ridiculous yellow shirt Mad had given him, he'd stick out like a sore thumb here.
She heard a muffled sniffle from behind some metallic rubble. A small child, frightened and alone. She instantly darted over to it, looking into the tiny space beneath.
There he was- shivering, sniffling, scared out of his wits, hazel eyes magnified with tears. He gave a little cry and came barreling out from under the rubble, wrapping his arms around Levi's neck so hard she almost couldn't breathe. Not that she cared.
"It's okay," she soothed, rubbing the boy's back.
"Mommy, I'm scared," Griffin whispered against her neck. "What happened?"
Levi shook her head, looking sightlessly out onto the new, strange world. "I dunno, Griffin."
"Where's everyone else? Where's Da?"
"I don't know."
"Wanna go home."
"Me, too," Levi murmured. "Let's look for the others, find out what happened to us, okay?"
"Okay," Griffin hiccuped. He relaxed his death-grip enough for Levi to stand up and sling him over her hip. He was getting too big for such things, but she didn't care. She wasn't going to risk losing sight of him again.
The streets were empty as a cemetery at midnight. No sound, but for the wind hissing through ghost-structures of metal and plastic and glass. Levi had no clue where they were- she didn't recognize it. She knew it was the Other World, but where? And more importantly, when?
"Who's there?" someone barked from an alley. Levi jumped and Griffin let out a soft cry of fear, burying his face in Levi's shoulder.
"Levi," she replied cautiously to the caller. She couldn't place the voice.
A rangy-looking teenage boy stepped out from the shadows, the remnants of what had once been an expensive leather jacket clutched about him. Dean, Levi realized, relaxing. He hadn't changed at all since that day on the highest platform, except for his punk attitude.
"Seen anyone else?" asked Dean anxiously, his heavy French accent sounding oddly sharp against the other background noises. "Any of us? Or the red-skins?"
"No," Levi sighed, adjusting Griffin so as to carry him more comfortably. "Just Griffin and me."
Dean stepped closer and held out his tattered jacket. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt underneath- more than Levi, who was sleeveless, and Griffin, whose shirt was light and airy for a Never-Land summer. Not an Other-World winter in a strange place. Levi accepted it gratefully and wrapped it around the shivering child, ignoring her own discomfort. She'd survive.
"Can we fly here?" asked Levi, afraid to know the answer. Dean shook his head.
"No. I've tried already. Just scraped my hand. We are well and truly stuck, my friend."
* * *
Knuckles surfaced, sputtered, sucked in great lung-fulls of the life-giving air. She kicked desperately to keep her head above water, still trying to figure out just what had happened and where she was. She hadn't been swimming, that was certain.
Ah-ha! A beach. She swam towards it, the brisk movement keeping her from getting cold even in the frigid ocean.
"Who's there?" someone yelled. Knuckles didn't answer, she had only a little ways to go to the beach. She pulled herself up on the sand and lay their gasping and shivering.
"Who's there?"
"Kn-knuckles," she gasped, shivering convulsively. "Who're you?"
A pair of feet moved into Knuckles' currently limited field of vision. A hand reached down to help her stand and she gratefully accepted it, letting the stranger pull her to her feet.
"I'm DJ," said the stranger, a teenage boy of about seventeen or so. "What're you doing here?"
Knuckles shook her head and wrapped her arms around her body, wondering where she could get some dry clothes. "No clue," she said, Australian accent thickening as she spoke, due to the cold and her shivering. "Where am I?"
"Florida Keys," DJ replied. Knuckles absently noted that he, too, was soaked, but he seemed to be used to it, or at least he wasn't shivering that much.
"What's that?"
"You're not a local, are you." It wasn't a question.
Knuckles began trying to get the wet sand off her likewise wet clothing. "That's a bit of an understatement," said Knuckles wryly. "As if the accent didn't give me away, eh?"
"Yeah." DJ chewed on his lip for a moment, indecisive, then spoke again. "My sister and I have a fire going up the beach a-ways. You're welcome to join us, if you like."
Knuckles had no idea how generous DJ was being- in his world, to invite a stranger to join you was tantamount to purposely injecting yourself with the Plague, or asking a thief to scurry off with your food supply. But DJ had, for a moment anyway, decided that he was tired of being lonely and wanted someone besides his sister to talk to.
"That would be smashing," said Knuckles, relieved that she'd be able to dry off before she turned into a walking icicle. She'd never been in temperatures this low before- in Never-Land it was always warm anyway, and in her country of birth it was considered cold if it dropped below fifty. Thirty-degree weather was utterly foreign to her.
They tromped off down the beach, stomping to keep warm. Knuckles kept breathing on her fingers to keep them from stiffening with cold.
Morgan looked up from the flames when she heard footsteps, expecting to see DJ. And she did, but he had a petite blonde girl in tow. Not good.
"Are you nuts, Donovan Jacob!" she shrieked. "What do you think you're doing, bringing a stranger with you?!"
Knuckles was startled. She hadn't thought she would be greeted with such a violent reaction. "He was only being nice," she said nervously. "I'll go elsewhere, if it bothers you that much." She didn't know this world, didn't know the rules. She wasn't going to risk getting herself in trouble.
Morgan gave the new girl the fish-eye. "How old are you?"
Knuckles, trying not to stare at the ridiculous nature of the question, considered her answer for a moment. "I think sixteen, but I'm not sure," she said truthfully. "Why?"
"Duh. The Plague, genius," said Morgan caustically. "Sit down and dry off. I'm Morgan."
"Knuckles." Knuckles took up the invitation and plopped down on the damp sand, grateful for the sudden warmth of the fire. Morgan scooted to the other side of the fire. DJ plopped down, uncaring of anything beyond the flames.
"What's the Plague?" asked Knuckles tentatively. She didn't want to expose the fact that she was far from local, but she would have to figure out what was up to stay alive here.
The two teens stared at her in silent shock. Knuckles' eyes flickered between the two of them, uncertain.
"How can you not know what the Plague is?" asked DJ, completely flabbergasted. "It's only killed everyone under fourteen on the face of the planet."
"Well... okay," said Knuckles hesitantly. "What year is it?"
"Are you a psychiatric escapee or something?" asked Morgan shrewdly. "Duh, idiot- it's twenty-one thirty-two."
"AD?"
"Um, yeah!"
"Just checking," said Knuckles, trying to be lighthearted and failing miserably. "Say, have you seen anyone else dressed like me?"
"No," said Morgan flatly. She was looking at Knuckles with suspicion increasing in her blue eyes.
"Are you all right?" asked DJ, concern and pity intermingled in his voice. "You're not really nuts, are you?"
Knuckles threw her arms up in defeat. "I don't know! I don't know anything anymore! I just want to find my buddies and go home, but I can't even fly, never mind track down everybody!" She giggled hysterically. "Never mind. Never-Land!" She continued giggling, her mental constitution severely depleted by events of the past half-hour or so.
"Huh?"
* * *
Peter lay spread-eagle in the street, wheezing. The pain... he thought he might have blacked out for a moment, it was so intense. It was like he were being ripped to shreds from the inside out. Most unpleasant.
He'd never really had a problem with the deep, unexplainable connection to the world that was Never-Land- it was just part of who he was. Only now that it was gone-the connection and the place- did he realize how much of him it was, intensifying his senses. He felt strangely... empty, now.
He pushed himself to his feet. It took him only an instant to realize the ability to fly had been wrested from him, like so much else. The next thing he noticed was the temperature.
It was absolutely freezing, and he was dressed for ninety degree weather. He shivered and rubbed his arms, goose bumps appearing on his suddenly pale, chill flesh. He looked around, taking in his urban surroundings.
"Hello?" he called warily. "Anyone out there?"
A sharp clatter a few streets away caught his attention. He walked towards the origin of the sound, cautiously- millennia of survival living will teach anyone not to rush in to anything, especially not in an unfamiliar environment.
"Who's there?" he called again, his voice sounding oddly hollow in the silence of the ghost-city.
Three figures crept out from the alleyway. One a tall, rakish boy of seventeen or so and indeterminate nationality. The other two were a teenage girl with long, tangled dark hair and a dancer's form, the last was a five-year-old boy, shivering in the girl's grasp.
Relief flooded through Peter's entire being. They were all right. One less thing to worry about.
"Levi! Griffin! You all right?"
Griffin let out a yell, wriggled out of Levi's arms, and bolted down the street. "Da! We found you!"
Peter kneeled just in time to catch Griffin, who otherwise would have been sent sprawling by his own unbalanced momentum. "Whoa! Slow down!"
"Where were you, Da?"
"Looking for you, of course. All right, Griffin?"
The child nodded. His lips were turning blue, Peter noted with some dismay, even with the enormous tatty jacket wrapped around his spare form. "Yeah. Cold."
Peter stood up again, Griffin clinging to his hand, just as Levi reached them. She was even colder-looking than her son and was shivering terribly.
"G-good to s-see you," she stammered. "What h-happened, Piotr?"
Peter shook his head. "Your guess is as good as mine. Where are we?"
"No cl-clue. America somewhere."
"Hello there, Pan," Dean greeted, finally reaching the impromptu gathering. "Any news?" He tried to be nonchalant but his concern and apprehension shone through in his clear grey eyes.
"No."
"It's getting dark, we need to find shelter," Dean suggested, waving vaguely at the overcast sky. "Better hurry."
"Yeah. Wanna ride, 'Fin?"
"Yup!" said Griffin instantly. Peter picked him up and managed to get him riding piggy-back. The group started down the snow-flecked streets, looking about warily.
"I've known something was wrong for a while," Peter said softly. "But this..." Levi nodded, absently clasping his hand. "Yeah. It's crazy."
"That's why I kept waking up in the middle of the night all the time- I'd have these weird attacks, like I couldn't breathe, but I knew it wasn't me- it's hard to explain-"
"You're the anchor, Peter, I know you're connected to the land," Levi interrupted. "Why didn't you mention it? Then the thing this morning might have made sense."
"What thing?"
Levi took a deep breath. "I found Janus dead on the beach," she said heavily. "He's as much a part of Never-Land as you are, and I was heading back when everything hit the fan."
Dean decided to put his two cents in. "Any idea what might have caused it?"
Peter shrugged, making Griffin bounce slightly. "Only a real calamity in this world could have caused it- Never-Land needs an anchor, but more so it needs faith to exist. People who believe."
"Maybe there aren't any more," said Levi, so quietly Peter could barely hear.
"Maybe so," Peter agreed. "But if that's the problem, then..."
No one needed him to say it.
They all knew they would never be able to go home.