Candace was speaking aloud to the empty room—a habit she picked up since she worked by herself so much. But she wasn’t alone exactly; the pods were there to keep her company, although they never spoke back.

The pod in the back of the room began to set off an alarm. Lights flashed along the side, and her computer’s readings began to spike. A few seconds later, a second pod’s alarm went off, and then a third.

“Oh no, what happened? Why, why, why?” she whined as she typed command after command into her computer. The people in the pods were dying. She was losing pods 34, 12, 20.

She rolled away from her desk and wheeled herself over to the failing pods. Flipping open a compartment, she punched in a code to feed morphine into the pods.

“C’mon, stay with me,” Candace said encouragingly to the girl in the pod 34. “You’re a fighter; I know you are.”

Her words fell on deaf ears as the girl in the pod began to go into cardiac arrest. The girl gasped, her eyelids opening, and she stilled, her breath leaving her. Then, the light in pod 34 went dark, and Candace couldn’t see her anymore.

“Son of a . . .” Candace moved to the next one and followed the procedure for pod failure. Like the first, the two others shook and went still. Their pods went silent and dark.

She released a shuddering breath of disappointment. They hadn’t been there long enough for her to give them names. They were newer, younger, and not as resilient as Alice or the first generation. None of them were. It’s why Neverland wanted the first ones so bad.

Three. They’d lost three, which meant they needed three more to take their place. They had never lost that many so close to each other before.

She picked up the phone and had to clear her throat twice before his voice came on the line. “Sir, there’s been a loss. Yes, we lost three pods.”

His reply was cold and calculated, and her hands shook when she put the phone back on the receiver.

Ten minutes later, the doors flew open and a slew of curse words spilled in as Hook marched into the freezer. Candace could tell Hook was on a rampage. Something must have gone wrong with the most recent reaping team harvest since she hadn’t seen Jax in the last few days. Jax always came to visit at night. Like clockwork. Something must have happened.

Candace quickly looked down and pretended to be buried in her paperwork as Hook headed over to Alice’s pod. But she knew a trick to keep an eye on him. She hit the power-off button on one of her many monitors and watched his reflection while she pretended to work.

Hook entered a code on the keypad on the side of Alice’s pod, and a panel door that she could never manage to open unlocked. He inserted a cylinder of serum that released into her pod, making her more susceptible to commands. He closed the hatch, and then he leaned close to the pod to whisper instructions to the sleeping girl inside. Candace didn’t dare breath or rustle a paper as she tried to listen in.

“He’s at Neverwood. He betrayed me again. Hunt him down. Hunt them all down!” he snarled.

The activity on the monitor changed as Alice’s brain received Hook’s instructions and her dreams began to transform.

Hook pulled back and surveyed Alice in the pod, a slow, wicked smile settling on his lips.

“Soon,” Hook whispered.

The hair on the back of Candace’s arms rose, and she shivered with trepidation. Whatever Jax had done since his last reaping had served to bolster Hook’s villainous resolve. Apparently, he was determined to see someone dead . . . and seemed to think somehow Alice could make it happen at his command.

Her computer began to beep, drawing Candace’s attention to her screen, which mirrored the one above Alice’s pod. The girl began to have nightmares—horrible images of shadow monsters appearing and then flickering out, unable to hold their shape for long.

Candace had never seen morphlings in person, but she knew enough to realize Alice was dreaming of those terrible things. But how did Alice even know enough about those creatures to dream of them? Given the timing of the nightmares, Candace couldn’t help but wonder if there was a connection between those creatures and the power Hook seemed to think she had. Candace had gotten pretty good at picking out the bits and pieces of what she saw on the blurry screen of Alice’s mixed-up dreams. She was positive when a familiar figure appeared that the girl was dreaming of Jax.

She bit her lip in worry when Alice began to thrash about in her pod, her adrenaline reading going off the charts. Hook must have given her a stimulant to make her frightened. And Candace knew what happened when Alice became frightened. Her dreams became chaotic, and the monsters kept coming into this world as they began the hunt for him.

She was confident that she could make out Jax, and wave after wave of morphlings were coming his way.

Jax was one of the few at the facility that was decent to her. She wouldn’t dare assume that he would ever call her a friend, but she hoped one day she could say that.

Run, Jax! Candace thought, knowing that he couldn’t hear her.

The sound of Hook’s boot steps drew close, and Candace barely looked up as he loomed over her desk.

“I’ve been told you’re the one working on the virus, correct?”

“Yes, sir. I finished it this morning.” She couldn’t meet his eyes, for it was a lie. She had finished it days ago.

“Upload it to the boy . . . now!” he commanded.

“I tried, but he was fighting me. I might permanently damage his mind.”

Hook glared at her, and she started to shake in her wheelchair. She knew she was coming close to insubordination.

“He is expendable, as are you. Break his mind if you have to, but upload the virus now. I’m done waiting.”

He stormed out of the room. Not until the lock on the door latched did she remember to breathe, and then let out a sigh. She knew never to make a fuss, keep a low profile, and never interrupt or distract the captain. The one time that Candace had questioned Hook, he had flown into a rage and hit the black button on one of the pods. She’d never told anyone what she had witnessed that day, how she had seen a faint ghostly figure appear next to the broken pod before it vanished.

Her hand trembled as she picked up a headgear covered in wires and sensors, which was a duplicate of the one Hook had, and placed it on her own head. The older Michael grew, the stronger his mind became. She had to keep upgrading the headgear. She pulled the glass screen over her eye and brought up the virus on her computer. She hadn’t really tried earlier, just merely attempted to upload it. Now, however, she had no choice. She was going to have to break him.

“I’m sorry,” Candace plugged a USB cable from the head gear into her computer. “Please forgive me,” she whispered, as she attempted for the third time to hack the young boy’s mind, typing her override command code over and over again.

Tick <Return>

Tick <Return>

Tick <Return>

Tock <Activate>