Everland(48)

Mole sniffs the air. “She went toward the Thames.” He frowns and sniffs again. “I don’t think she’s alone, though. I smell something else. Licorice, perhaps?”

“What do you mean?” Pete asks, worry wrinkling his face. “Who is she with?”

“I don’t know, but it’s not a Marauder,” Mole says, inhaling. “I think it’s another girl.”

“A girl?” Pickpocket and Jack say at the same time.

“What girl?” Pete says. His shoulders stiffen.

“Not to interrupt you guys, but …” Doc points to soldiers less than a half a block from the café. “Shall we get on with the plan?”

“We’ll see you at the gallery in an hour,” Pete says.

“See you there,” Doc says, extending a hand. “And don’t get caught.”

Pete hesitates but doesn’t take Doc’s hand. “Never.”

Doc frowns.

The Lost Boys exchange a round of fist-bumping. Finally, Pete turns to me, holding his hand up as if waiting for me to knuckle-bump him. I lift my fist, but instead of repeating the gesture he exchanged with the other boys, he takes my hand and kisses the top of it. My heartbeat doubles as I feel his lips touch my skin. With a smile, he releases my still-clenched fist and crawls toward the far end of the counter. Pickpocket and Jack follow him.

Staying low, I wait for a sign to run as Jack climbs on top of the counter and hits a switch on his tool belt. Two copper barrels flip up from either side of the belt. “Argh,” he yells, sounding more like a pirate than a Lost Boy. Pete and Pickpocket glance at each other before following his lead. They throw themselves over the countertop. Pickpocket pulls his revolver from his holster as Pete slips a dagger from his hip. I am not sure if I should laugh, cry, or be worried about their valiant attempt to draw attention to themselves. Instead, I join Doc and Mole as they crawl toward the door.

At first, the soldiers don’t notice the boys jumping through the empty window frame. Finally, Pete, Jack, and Pickpocket dash into the street and stand in front of the army, which has made its way to the front of the café.

Smeeth marches through the ranks of Marauders, stopping in front of the café window. He crosses his arms as an amused look grows on his face.

“Hey, Pickpocket, do you smell that?” Pete says in a loud voice, holding his daggers in front of him. The soldiers turn toward the boys. “It smells like fish—codfish, to be precise.”

“Only one Marauder smells that funny,” Pickpocket says, holding out his gun.

“Let’s get this over with,” Jack growls, his eyes fixated on the soldiers. From this distance, I can see the perspiration on his face, sparkling like raindrops under the street lanterns.

“Well, you’re not exactly who I’m looking for, but I can work with that,” Smeeth sneers.

“Wrong answer,” Pete says. “Speaking of codfish, where is your odorous leader?”

Jack shifts, the scowl on his face deepening.

Smeeth grits his teeth and points the barrel of his gun at the boys. “I’ll make this easy on you. Tell me where your little girlfriend and Bella are, and I’ll put a good word in with the Captain.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. If the Marauders are still looking for Bella, she must be safe, at least for now. Pete seems to make the same assumption, as I notice his shoulders relax.

“A girl? What girl? How about you, Pickpocket? Do you know about a girl?” Pete asks.

“The only girl I know is Smeeth’s ugly bulldog,” Pickpocket says. “Oh wait, that was your mother, wasn’t it, Mr. Smeeth? Mistaken identity.”

Mole snickers next to me. “That was a good one,” he whispers.

“Very funny,” Smeeth says. “Tell me where she is now, or you’ll be tonight’s gruel for the Captain’s crocs. I normally don’t feed them such filth because it upsets their delicate digestive systems, but I’ll make a special exception in this case.”

“What do you think, Lost Boys? Should we become crocodile chow?” Pete asks. “I’ve seen others die under worse conditions, I suppose.”

“This is ridiculous! Enough!” Jack shouts as he reaches for a lever on his belt.

Pete lunges for him. “No, Jack! Not yet!”

It’s too late. Jack flicks the switch. Dozens of small trajectories burst from the miniature guns. Each ball bearing bursts, crackling as it hits the street, creating a thick smoke screen.

Pete releases his dagger. It flies through the air and lands in the thick, meaty leg of a soldier. Blood bursts from the guard’s thigh as he crumples to the ground with an agonizing scream. Jack pulls a small knife from its sheath on his belt and plunges it into the left shoulder of another soldier, sending the man to the street howling in pain. Snatching his revolver from its holster, Pickpocket fires several rounds into a group of Marauders. They run for cover as they return fire. The blast of gunfire and the ping of metal weapons rings through the evening air echoing off the tall buildings.

Smeeth fires three shots into the cloud of smoke. The boys dodge his bullets. Pickpocket dives to the ground, firing a shot at Smeeth. The Marauder falters but doesn’t fall. He lets loose a manic laugh and rips the brass buttons open on his black leather jacket, revealing a bulletproof armor.