"What do you mean – a doll?" Hook questioned. His quick gaze scanned the armoury. Swords, pistols – all here within his reach. He could steal something and make a run for it – turn outlaw. "Where are the guards?"
"They're dolls too. Same for the guards at the mayors house, and the mayor."
"The mayor's..."
"Dead," Wendy finished for him. "Dead and now a walking killer doll."
Hook stared at her disbelief. The mayor had been the one to lock him up. A fat waddling man with a curly wig too small for his head and a big red nose. The preening fool been gleeful at the chance to see Hook's fall, the two had butted heads when the balance of power had been different between them.
"They'll be ready soon."
"For what?"
"To turn on the towns people." Wendy held his gaze. "They'll take the children and kill anyone who gets in their way."
Hook stared at Wendy, seeing a small child with very wise eyes.
"How do you know this?"
"I've seen it." Many times. She'd spent a lifetime watching Pan traffic children and these day's, Pan had a business rival. A rival that was, perhaps, even crueler than the vicious imp. "They'll sell them to the Crocodile."
Hook shivered at the name. Never did he ever want to face the Crocodile again. Some monsters you meet in life, haunt you in your nightmares for the rest of it. The door rattled behind them and Hook flinched. He grabbed a sword from the side, brandishing it familiarly.
"What kills them?" He barked urgently, referring to Wendy's 'dolls'.
"I don't know, and I've tried – lots."
The door groaned as its strained against the bolt. "How do you kill what's already dead?"
The wood splintered around the jailer's fist. Hook leapt back, outstretching his stump to push Wendy behind him. The thing set about tearing down the door with its bare hands.
"Bilge rats!" Hook cursed. "Run, run for it." He shoved Wendy ahead, and followed after her – sprinting through the armoury.
He made for the exit but Wendy held him back suddenly.
"No, Captain." She gripped tightly onto his arm, stopping him. "Why do you think I came down here? We're trapped."
Not wanting to believe it, Hook shook her off him. He quickly climbed the steps up to the Guard's office.
This office led out to a courtyard, Hook knew from remembering his arrest. The courtyard was small, mostly occupied by a platform that private executions took place on. As they'd dragged him through it, Hook had stared up at the perfect nooses – waiting in readiness. He clutched the hilt of his sword firmly, ready to fight his way out.
But Hook skidded to a stop at the sight that awaited him. Wendy had barricaded the door leading out into the courtyard with everything she could find, but multiple arms grasped and pawed at him through the shattered windows. He stared, wide eyed as the guards mechanically reached for him – with empty mindless gazes. She'd been telling the truth, this thing whatever it was, had spread across the fort.
Taking the steps two at a time, Hook raced back down and arrived breathlessly at Wendy's side.
"What exactly have you tried?" He asked.
"Beheading, knife to the heart, hanging, bullets – to the head and chest – no different." Wendy listed. The ground shook as the door screeched on its hinges. The jailer was almost upon them.
"What about fire?"
Wendy blinked.
"I haven't tried fire."
They ducked as the door flew off its hinges, splinters of wood flying in all directions.
"I'll hold him off," Hook barked, his sword a the ready. Wendy needed no further instruction. Sheathing her daggers, she headed for the firearms – in search of fire.
Hook may only have one hand, but he was still a formidable fighter. He hacked and slashed at the jailer, trying to force him back into the narrow stairwell. The jailer picked up a large chunk of broken door and Hook had to leap out of the way as the jailer swung the beam over his head. Hook bent backwards to avoid a blow, nearly loosing his balance.
He swiped at the dead man's legs, slicing him across the back of his calf's but the thing seemed immune to pain. "Anytime now," Hook bellowed sarcastically in Wendy's general direction.
"Bit cranky today, sir." The jailer opened his mouth, the gun extending once more. Hook ducked and rolled out of the way, diving behind the shelving.
The jailer opened fire and Hook fell flat on his stomach as bullets sprayed in his direction.
"Over here!" Wendy shouted. The jailer stopped shooting, sluggishly turning its head to face her. Wendy heaved, staggering slightly, as she smashed a shot ball into the jailer's face. The ball thudded to the ground and rolled away from her – crashing into a sword stand.
The jailer's head had fallen over his shoulders and dangled there, connected to the neck by a pick fleshy looking cord. Hook came up out of his hiding position, fighting a trembling in his knees. The jailer opened fire once more, but now his head was angled to be facing behind. Hook grunted, a bullet catching him - slicing neatly through the flesh. Gasping in surprise, he grimaced -clutching his arm as blood seeped through his shirt. He ducked down, crawling quickly out of the line of fire.
Wendy raced back, deeper in the armoury – desperately scanning the tools and weapons on offer. Tongues, hammers, chisels – tools to fix the cell bars or to break open a rusted lock. Her eyes snagged upon a barrel.
"Bit cr-cr-cr-... sir." The jailer was marching on, its head knocking against its shoulder blades. She prized off the barrel's lid. It was filled with pitch, probably kept for waterproofing. "Bit-" Smoke was billowing out of the things neck hole.
Wendy shoved against the heavy barrel, causing the pitch to topple over - its contents drenching the approaching jailer.
"Come on then!" She shouted, "shoot me!"
The gun extended and Wendy ducked, putting her arms up over her head. A spark was all that was needed. The jailer fired, Wendy flinched at the sound and looked up. She'd expected the pitch to blow up but it didn't – it did however catch alight.
Flames slowly spread up the jailer's legs. He kicked her, sending Wendy sprawling on her back. She gasped for breath, black dots filling her vision. It kicked her again and Wendy cried out in pain, flecks of blood dripping down her chin. The jailer's back was now completely on fire and Wendy scrambled backwards, trying to escape.
"Cr-cr-cr." The flames gnawed at the jailer's insides and the stench was vile. Wendy shut her eyes, expecting the next blow.
She heard a grunt but felt no pain. Opening her eyes, she saw a sword sticking through the jailer's middle. Hook was standing close behind him, sweat shining on his ashen forehead – his breathing shallow. Wendy moved to the side, out of the way, struggling to her feet. Hook extended his arm to her, the stump offered in place of hand. She gripped onto it and he pulled her to her feet, ushering her protectively behind him.
They backed away in unison as the jailer flailed in their direction. His head snapped away completely, sticking to the pitch and melting. Hook gagged at the sight of the eyes dribbling like runny egg from the sockets. The jailer dropped to his knees, juddering, before slumping limply forward.
The fire blazed merrily over him, spitting as it gained height.
"Fire, works." Wendy breathed shakily. She looked up at Hook. "But we're out of pitch."
"Hmm," the fire reflected in Hook's dark eyes. "But we do have gun powder."
Wendy watched as Hook poured the powder across the floor. His hand was shaking and blood was dropping down his wrist and fingers. Wendy was out of breath from heaving furniture. They'd returned to the Guards Room to face the dolls awaiting them there. Now, with her barricade deconstructed – only a deadbolt separated them from the hoard. They had only seconds left.
"Hurry," she called to Hook.
"Get further back," he shouted in return.
Wendy scampered quickly down the steps, turning to look fearfully back. Would he make it? The door to the Guards room buckled, crashing noisily to the floor. Hook dropped the last of the powder and picked up an oil lamp from the side. The soldiers flooded into the room, their mouths opening wide.
"Hook!" Wendy yelled, her eyes frantic.
Roaring, Hook threw the lamp to the ground. Wendy shielded her eyes, hearing the hiss as the fire spread along the line of powder. Hook dove down the stairs, colliding into her. They rolled and came to a stop, with Hook's body shielding hers - on the floor of the armory. Then the blast erupted. Wendy lost contact with the floor – her body sent flying as the Guards Office blew to smithereens.
When the dust finally settled, Wendy slowly raised her head. The blast had temporarily deafened her but eventually the hollow ringing left her head and she was able to hear the crackle from the fires raging on the floor above. She crawled toward Hook, rolling him onto his back. His eyes were closed and blood gleamed on his forehead. Above them, the soldiers were in broken pieces – burning brightly and disappearing behind the sticky black smoke.
Wendy put a hand over her mouth, her throat protesting and rasping painfully from the fumes. Hook murmured something, his words slurring weakly. Wendy touched his shoulder and her palm calm away slick with blood. Leaning forward, she was able to make out what he was saying.
"Damn you... Peter Pan..."