Jax’s world spun as the fist connected with his jaw, and he briefly saw stars. Losing a step or two, he was able to regain his composure and attack with two quick jabs, followed by a roundhouse kick. His arc was beautiful, but he met air as his opponent ducked. He could see the leg swipe coming but was too slow. His other foot was knocked out from under him, and he landed on his back, face up on the mat.

“Stupid and slow,” Hook said, his decaying breath blowing into his face. He peered down at Jax with yellowed eyes, a human monster wearing a Red Skull uniform.

Jax kept his temper in check but could feel the slight trickle of something warm running down his cheek. His hand came away red with his blood.

“That’s for failing in your last mission,” Hook sneered. “And disobeying a direct order.”

“I didn’t.” He rolled over onto his knees.

“You did.” Hook grabbed the back of Jax’s head and slammed it into the floor. “Because you disobeyed orders—my command—you blew your cover and we lost good soldiers. They had been with me since before you were born.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Jax lied, keeping his head down, not looking the man in his eyes—not challenging him. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, when everything within him wanted to lash out and blow the place to smithereens, but he knew if he did that, his punishment would only be worse. Hook was teaching him a lesson, and he needed to make it believable.

Stay alive for her.

Live for her.

You’re her only chance.

He calmed his fury and stayed still as his platoon leader continued to put him in his place, to make him an example to the others in the D.U.S.T. Program. Jax could hear the murmurs of the newer recruits, and he could see their contempt aimed his way. There were so many. Soon, they would outnumber those at the Neverwood Academy. Or at least they would if they didn’t keep burning out. But he had more important things to worry about.

“Get up!” Hook yelled, pulling on Jax’s uniform, and then shoved him back to the ground. “Let this be a lesson to all of you.” Hook pointed at the young teens surrounding the training mat. “See what happens when you disappoint me?”

Heads nodded. Others looked at the ground. A few stood taller.

A nurse walked into the room with a tray of smaller injector pens filled with PX-3.

“It’s about time,” Hook snapped at her.

She stopped before each recruit and they eagerly took the pen from the tray and injected it into their arm, leg, or neck.

A few sighs of relief came from the recruits; one boy lifted his head and groaned. It was addictive—the new drug they were using on the kids.

After the disaster of previous trials, Neverland had figured out that tweakers, kids with addiction problems, were far more compliant than the average teen as recruits for their drug experiments. The morphlings would kidnap those kids, who might be terrified when they arrived, but after a few weeks in D.U.S.T, taking the PX-3 drug, they always wanted to stay. They had no interest in the experiment, but in the drug, intended to give them superhuman powers and adrenaline rush, which was nearly impossible to resist.

Jax’s fingers twitched, but they didn’t pick up the injector pen when the nurse stopped in front of him. He didn’t need the PX-3. He was picked up on a raid a while ago and came in as a recruit. Neverland didn’t know he was an original, one of first PX-1 subjects. He faked all of his results and did what he could to pretend to be like the other recruits. Even faking taking the PX-3 most of the time.

A hand clamped on his shoulder like a vise, and he slowly rose to his feet. He didn’t need to turn around to see that it was Hook’s hand on him. The nurse was still standing in front of him with the tray, waiting for him to take the shot.

“Jax, I didn’t see you take your shot?” Hook said.

Jax’s gritted his teeth. “Yes, sir.” He was hesitant about was what the new drug could do to him over time. He didn’t want to become addicted. He usually palmed the smaller injector pens and faked the injections.

Hook leaned in. “You do want it, don’t you?”

“Yes, I n—need it.” Jax tried to play it cool, but his voice was shaking with anger, not need. He’d have to take it.

His eyes scanned the recruits who had just taken their dose. One boy was doing backflips off the brick wall; another had picked up two of the other recruits and was lifting them both above his head. They were experiencing the kicker from their injection, a high before the crash, and it was the crash that kept them coming back for more. He watched as the one named Pilot darted around the room, his body disappearing in a streak of light as he moved at inhuman speed. There was a redheaded girl, Amber, who was practicing shifting into the form of other soldiers. They were very much like the lost boys, except that their gifts were only temporary. If they didn’t receive the continued PX-3, they would burn out and die. They always failed to mention that to the newest recruits.

Jax’s eyes came to rest on the pen and the silver tray.

“You’re not going to disobey another order, are you?”

“No, sir.” Jax’s hand snapped up the PX-3 injector pen, and he stared Hook in the eyes as he injected it into his arm. He could feel the euphoria spread throughout and the immediate rush of adrenaline, but he held his face as still as stone. “I’d never do that.”

“Good.” Hook sneered. “I may give you one more chance to prove your loyalty to Neverland.”

“Yes, sir,” Jax answered. “I won’t let you down, sir.”

“Good, wait for my orders.” Hook stormed off, leaving Jax to wonder how much longer he could survive working for Neverland.