I have to get out. But when I try to pull my stuck leg free, all I do is bury myself more.
Tears well in my eyes as I reach behind me for a sapling and try to use it to pull myself out. It bends in my hand, then breaks, leaving stinging cuts on my palm. There’s nothing else within my reach, and I’m still sinking, the muck up to my mid-thigh now.
“You could call for help, you know.”
I turn my head to find the pirate standing in the crook of a tree behind me. He watches me, though I still can’t see his eyes under the brim of his hat.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to know you’ve never been in a bog before.” He clucks his tongue.
“Can you get me out?”
“I could.” He doesn’t move.
“Please!” I feel hot tears rolling down my cheeks.
“I’ll need something from you in exchange.” He steps down from the tree, and I gasp. But he doesn’t sink. His boots are clean despite the muck beneath them.
“How?” I look down to see my legs are completely stuck in the mire.
“You should be more concerned with our bargain.” His full lips are still tilted into a smirk.
“Okay, what do you want?” I push at the muck, but it just coats my hands.
“Agree to come with me to the Jolly Roger, and I’ll get you out.”
I shake my head. “Hook will kill me.”
He shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
When he turns and takes a step away from me, I scream. “Wait!”
He looks at me over his shoulder. “What is it, lass?”
“Please don’t leave me.” I shudder as I sink even farther, up to my hips. “Please.”
“So you’ll agree then?”
I know I shouldn’t. I know I should try to stay calm and wait for Peter or one of the Lost Boys to find me. But each breath sinks me deeper, and I can’t stem the panic that rises inside me like the tide.
“Yes!”
“I’ll hold you to it.” He turns and picks his way to me, his boots sure over the surface of the black mud.
“How?” I yell as I watch him practically skate over the bog.
“If you know where to look, the mangrove roots are just beneath the surface.” He reaches me, then takes my hand and guides it to a mucky spot beside me. “Here.” He presses my palm down, and that’s when I feel the solid root.
I could’ve pulled myself out this whole time.
His smirk grows when he realizesIjust realized I’ve been duped.
“Bastard!” I yell as he takes both my hands and pulls me slowly from the mud.
“I’ve been called worse, lass.” He chuckles.
I wince when I feel one of my shoes come off. Then the other one gives up, too. “Shit!”
