Elizabeta Brooke: Never: an erotic retelling of Peter Pan

You are a warrior, he scolded himself in his Grandfather's voice. You must be strong. You must have courage.

"Strong. Courage," he muttered as he staggered on. Then came a faint noise that grew louder with a whooshing of wind. A helicopter.

With a spurt of adrenalin, Long Shadow's limbs jerked into action. He spun on a heel to see the heavy metal bird rounding the point he had just traversed. Turning a circle, he looked for a hiding place, but there was none.

He was close to the waterline. The shelter of trees was too far for a sprint even with fresh legs. The noise was growing louder, the wind was lifting his hair, sending water spray in all directions.

Falling to his knees, he clutched Wendee to himself as the helicopter landed in front of him. DeMartande would have to kill him to get Wendee out of his arms.

Squinting against the spray-soaked wind, he saw figures emerge from the helicopter, running towards him. His arms tightened convulsively.

Two men. One was carrying a case. The other looked… familiar.

"Sorry it took us so long, kid," he shouted as they crouched in front of him. "You all right?"

Long Shadow bowed his head. His whole body sagged with relief. He wanted to cry.

"Is this Dr Williams?" Sark asked. "Is she hurt?"

The man with the case took her wrist, felt for a pulse.

Long Shadow was looking down into Wendee's face when Sark said, "DeMartande slipped the net, but don't worry. We'll get him."

Her eyes opened. Not fluttering as though rising from deep slumber. But with deliberation. They stared straight into Long Shadow’s, and over the aching of his limbs, he realised what these words would mean to her.

"I'll take her, Agent Long Shadow," the medic said, and Long Shadow watched her eyes close. Another man with a stretcher had arrived and he helped the medic ease her out of Long Shadow's arms.

"We caught your hacker up the beach," Sark said and Long Shadow dragged his attention from where they were arranging Wendee on the stretcher, covering her nakedness with a sheet.

"Christophe?"

"You might have turned your back," Sark said, casting him a cynical glance, "but we didn't."

Long Shadow felt himself go very still. "How did you know…"

Sark tapped Long Shadow's ear. "Got a bug in your ear, kid. That's how we traced you. Heard every word you said."

"Every word," Long Shadow echoed. Every word?

"Standard procedure."

"But no-one said — "

"Didn't want to inhibit you, kid." Sark gripped his arm and pulled him to his feet. "Come on. Your hacker buddy was right. There's a village up ahead. You'll see him when we get there."

Long Shadow let himself be led to the helicopter, got in beside Sark. Wendee was behind them but her eyes were closed again.

Had he imagined her looking at him like that? "I thought you'd air-lift us back to — "

"Not until DeMartande's in custody," Sark said, strapping himself in.

"But what if — "

"We're staying at the village," Sark said in his don't-argue voice. "It's only an hour to Moresby by car. Ten minutes by chopper. Relax. Your girlfriend's safe."

But am I? Long Shadow thought. The helicopter lurched and he hastily buckled his seat belt — found his fingers were trembling.

Sark had heard every word he'd said on the island. Everything he'd said to Wendee, to DeMartande, to Christophe…

Was Sark planning to congratulate him on the success of his first field assignment? Or was he considered a traitor, to be terminated 'with extreme prejudice'?

And what of Wendee's fate? He'd hoped to present her as an innocent victim. But now…

The chopper lifted and Long Shadow closed his eyes.

Self-pity snuck past his defences. All this anguish, all this heartbreak, and they hadn't even caught DeMartande…

"…and that's all I remember," Wendee said, noticing but not caring that the man seated across from her couldn't take his eyes off her breasts.

"I think you've answered all my questions, Ms Williams," Sark said, thick tongue wetting thin lips.

Dee looked down at her chest. It was the sheer white cotton shirt the medic had put on her. That was the problem. Still, it was Sark's problem, not hers.

She looked back up at him and raised an eyebrow.

He cleared his throat, still staring unrepentantly at her breasts.

"What about the boy?" she asked.

That brought his eyes up. "The hacker will go to trial. He was an accomplice."

"I see." Dee pushed down a pang of regret. If Christophe hadn't tried to help her he might have escaped, as the others obviously had.

All she could hope was that Long Shadow would remember Christophe's part in his escape and return the favour. "But I'm free to go?" she asked, her thoughts returning to her own situation.

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

She hadn't thought of that. Hadn't realised it mattered. "I know someone in Cairns."

He looked down at his notes. "You have a husband in Brisbane — "

"The Gold Coast," she corrected. "And he's my ex-husband."

"Ex or not, the Cairns police notified him when you went missing from your hotel." Sark was making a valiant effort to keep his attention on her eyes. "He moved up to Cairns looking for you. Wants you back apparently." His gaze drifted and Dee felt a stirring in her abdomen — wondered what it would be like to have sex with someone she found unattractive.

"…seems a decent sort," Sark was saying, "and who knows, you might get back into teaching — "

"I'm not interested in teaching young men Astronomy, Mr Sark," she said.

There was silence for a moment, then he cleared his throat. "I still think you should consider — "

But Dee saw a furtiveness in his eyes. "You've already told him I'm here, haven't you?" she said.

Sark sighed, nodded. "He's on his way."

Dee closed her eyes. Then she stood and walked over to the casement window, looking out but not seeing. "Why did you do it?" she asked.

"I want to keep my agent," he said. "But to do that, I have to get rid of you. Safely."

Dee stared out the window. Banana trees blocked her view of the house next door but she could see one of its residents, a young man, a native New Guinean with a machete in his hand climbing one of the trees.

Something about the fronds swaying made her think of home, of the banana palms next to her pool. The ones James had hated and she'd loved. She sensed she should feel something, an emotion linked to the memory. But there was nothing. It was just a memory.

She turned back to Sark. "You think if I go back to my husband, your agent won't come after me."

"I believe so," he said. "The kid's young, and — excuse me, Ms Williams — in this business we call it cunt-struck."

She nodded, uncaring of the crudity.

"But he's a good kid. He'll do the honourable thing."

"Where you won't," she commented.

Sark practically leered, his gaze deliberately falling to the darkness between her thighs. "I only need you to go home with your husband," he said, "What you do after that is none of my concern."

"Why should I do this for you?" she demanded, not having an argument against the idea, simply wanting to wipe the smirk off Sark's face.

"Not for me. For the kid," Sark said.

"You know what's best for him?" She raised a haughty eyebrow, liking the way the sound of her voice seemed to intimidate Sark. "I think you're being a little high-handed."

"What's the alternative?"

Dee gave up her power trip for the moment to consider that. She'd heard the fanaticism of Long Shadow's love, had seen it in his eyes, didn't want to be imprisoned by it.

She shrugged. "All right." Why not? One choice was as good as another at this point. They all led towards death in the end.