We zigzag through the alleyways as the Marauders pursue us. Finally, Pete pulls me onto a narrow side street between two run-down brick structures. He grunts as he lifts a manhole cover from the street.
“Quick, climb in,” he says.
I hesitate, covering my mouth and nose as a vile smell wafts from the opening.
“Now!” Pete growls, giving me a hard shove.
As the soldiers draw near, I sit on the edge of the manhole and drop into the sewage system, my boots kicking up a splash of murky water. I lean against the wall, panting. Pete climbs down the ladder, replaces the cover, and joins me, peering through the holes in the cover. Footsteps stop just above. I slump against the brick wall. A foul odor prickles the inside of my nose. My stomach gurgles in protest and my eyes sting. I blink back burning tears. Something sticky and squishy seeps between my fingers. With the sleeve of my coat, I wipe away tears and blink down at the object. A guttural scream erupts from me, but Pete clamps his hand over my mouth. His fingers press so tightly into my flesh, the bones in my cheeks ache. I recoil from the decomposing skeleton and into Pete. Looking away, I bury my face into his chest. His arms squeeze me tight.
“Shh!” Pete warns in a hushed voice. “You’re going to get us caught!”
Nodding, I shift my gaze back to the body. Empty eye sockets stare lifelessly up as beetles writhe on the remaining bits of flesh. The buzz of flies rings in my ears. Blood stains the almond-colored dress, the lace of the woman’s corset having frayed. Two skeletal legs stick out from beneath her voluminous skirts. I turn my gaze away and wipe my hand on the brick wall, resisting the urge to gag. The stench is overwhelming.
Something crashes just above our hiding spot. Hook growls. “How does that boy keep getting away?” There is another bang.
“Captain, orders?” a soldier says.
“Search the buildings. Don’t forget to check closets, basements, crawl spaces, anywhere a couple of street rats would hide. Find that girl!” Hook declares.
“Yes, sir!” The soldier orders the men in various directions.
Hook roars and I flinch, but Pete rubs my shoulder, his arms still wrapped around me.
“Pete, I know you can hear me.” The Captain pauses, as if waiting for a response. “Pete! All I want is the girl.”
Pete gives me a puzzled look. “He wants just you?”
“Why not you, too?” I ask.
Pete quickly drops his gaze from mine, shrugs, and holds a finger to his lips, reminding me to keep quiet. He’s hiding something.
“Bring her to me, or so help me, when you are found, I will personally strap you to the cold steel table. I’ll enjoy watching every agonizing moment as you writhe in pain, the tubes and needles sucking every ounce of life from your pathetic body. You will curse the day you ever crossed my path.”
“That bloke has some serious anger issues,” Pete whispers in my ear. His face is close to mine. His breath tickles my neck and is warm against my skin. It smells peculiar, like bubble gum. My cheeks grow hot.
“Do you hear me?” Hook screams.
Other than the scurrying of a few rodents in the tunnel, everything remains quiet. The sound of boots walking above us makes the tension in my body grow. My eyes and jaw clench shut as if I could disappear. The footsteps stop at the manhole cover. Pete quietly leaps up and tugs me to a shadowed corner as Hook peers through the holes. Another familiar and menacing voice draws his attention away.
“Captain, my men are in pursuit of a couple of children,” Smeeth says. “We may have them cornered in an alley a few blocks from here. A boy and that pixie-lookin’ girl we always see with Pete.”
Mikey! My heart stops and I try to bolt, but Pete pulls me back. I struggle against his hold as he clasps a hand over my mouth. With bulging eyes, he shakes his head. “Shh! Stay quiet!”
“It’s Bella,” Hook says, his words clipped. “Do what you have to do to get the girl, even if it means incapacitating the boy. Just don’t kill her.”
“We’ll do what we can, Captain,” Smeeth says. “That girl’s half bird with those wings of hers. She’s struggling to hold on to the boy.”
“Who’s the other kid?” Hook says.
“I don’t know,” Smeeth says. “Boy’s maybe six, seven at the most. It doesn’t look like Bella is going to be able to carry him much longer, and he is having a hard time keeping up on his own.”
My body tenses and I jerk, trying to escape from Pete’s grasp again. I hear Hook respond, but his words are lost as I thrash violently against Pete’s hold. Seething, I elbow the Lost Boy in the ribs. He grunts, his arms release me, and I dart from his grasp. Doubled over and wincing, he manages to hold a finger to his lips, reminding me to be silent.
“When the men capture them, do whatever you want with the boy. But take Bella straight to the Professor’s lab for testing,” Hook says, his voice fading as he walks away.