Read The Medusa Project: The Rescue Page 11


  I figured maybe Stanley’s company – and his position within it – was more important than he’d let on.

  Stanley certainly seemed quite used to the attention. He ordered us to be taken into a nearby prefab office building. It wasn’t quite so blisteringly hot here as it had been in the desert, but the sun still beat down on our heads with a fierce glare. I was glad to get inside.

  ‘Can we make a call from here?’ I asked.

  ‘Soon.’ Stanley sounded distracted. ‘I just have some stuff to deal with.’ He led us into a small, windowless room in the prefab hut. A sofa stood in one corner, a table and chairs in another. An air-con unit blasted away noisily, and rather ineffectually, high on the walls above our heads.

  One of the men in overalls deposited Nico on the sofa, then left. Immediately Nico groaned and raised his hand to his head. He’d drifted into a sound sleep on the flight, like Dylan had done earlier.

  Stanley glanced over as Nico’s eyelids flickered.

  ‘Back in a moment,’ he said.

  As the door shut behind him, everyone started talking at me.

  ‘Que pasa, Eds?’ Luz asking, clutching my arm.

  ‘Yeah, Chino Boy, what’s he doing leaving us in here?’ Dylan said.

  ‘Why hasn’t he given us a phone?’ Ketty said.

  ‘It’s fine,’ I said, trying to speak to everyone at once. ‘He’s just busy. He’ll sort us out in—’

  ‘No . . . no . . .’ Nico was staggering to his feet, leaning heavily on the sofa behind him.

  Everyone turned and stared at him. His brown eyes had a glassy, unwell look to them, but there was no mistaking the fear in his expression.

  ‘Where are we? Where is he?’ Nico lurched forwards, stumbling against Ketty.

  She held his arm, her face terrified.

  ‘Nico, what’s the matter?’

  She glanced at me. I shook my head.

  ‘We have to get out of here. Door . . . Ed . . . door . . .’ Nico gasped.

  I turned to the door behind me.

  ‘Open it . . .’ Nico looked completely panic-stricken.

  ‘Calm down,’ I said, talking almost as much to myself as to him. ‘There’s nothing wrong.’

  Dylan let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Just open it, Ed.’ She darted behind me and rattled the door handle. It didn’t open.

  We all stared at it. A cold, sick feeling lodged itself in my stomach.

  ‘We’re locked in,’ Ketty said in disbelief.

  ‘Eds?’ Luz gripped my arm. Her fingers were trembling.

  My head spun. The cold, sick feeling had reached my throat now. I looked over at Nico, trying to meet his eyes, but he was still staring, horrified at the locked door. He turned and focused on one of the chairs at the table. It rose into the air, teetered for a moment, then fell back to the ground.

  Beside me, Luz gasped.

  ‘I just need a few minutes . . .’ Nico flopped onto the sofa, his head in his hands.

  Dylan and Ketty exchanged anxious glances. Ketty sat down beside Nico and put her hand on his back.

  ‘Nico?’ she said uncertainly. ‘What’s going on?’

  For a few moments, there was a terrible silence. And then Nico looked up.

  ‘Where’s the man who knocked me out at the camp?’ he said. ‘He got me with a stun gun . . . must have got Tommy and Mat and Mig too . . .’

  I relaxed. Of course. This was all just a misunderstanding. Nico had thought Stanley was attacking him earlier, no wonder he was urging us to get away now.

  ‘Outside,’ I said. ‘But you’ve got this wrong. His name’s Andrew Stanley. He’s been brilliant, helping us escape from Fernandez. He even used his helicopter to help rescue you from the camp.’

  ‘Then why’s the door locked?’ Nico said.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I admitted, ‘but I do know that Stanley’s an amazing hero – one of the good guys.’

  ‘No, he’s not,’ Nico said, fury clouding his dark eyes. ‘He’s one of the worst.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Dylan asked, putting her hands on her hips. ‘Do you know him?’

  ‘Yes,’ Nico said, ‘and so do you. He’s the man who was prepared to have Ketty killed – who tried to buy us as weapons – back in Cornwall.’

  The cold, sick feeling slammed back, filling my head.

  ‘It can’t be him,’ Ketty breathed, her face blanching.

  Dylan’s eyes widened. ‘No freakin’ way.’

  I stared at Nico. It wasn’t possible, was it?

  ‘Yeah, well done, Ed.’ Nico stood, his eyes and voice savage with contempt. ‘Your amazing hero is only frigging Blake Carson.’

  14: Alone

  I couldn’t bear it. I had brought us all to Blake Carson, a violent weapons dealer and one of the most dangerous criminals in the country.

  I told Nico, Ketty and Dylan the whole story of how I’d met him. Even as I was explaining the series of coincidences that had led to us sitting here in this prefab hut I realised just how gullible I’d been.

  Nico was furious. ‘Didn’t it all seem a bit convenient?’ he roared. ‘You’re running away and he happens to be on the same street . . . then happens to have the weapons you need to rescue Dylan and me and Ketty?’

  ‘He said he was a sales and marketing director with an electronics security firm,’ I stammered. ‘So I thought the Lockdowns made sense.’

  ‘Well, we all thought you made sense, but in fact you’re a tool and a total freakin’ liability,’ Dylan snapped from across the room.

  Nico rolled his eyes. I couldn’t bear to look at Ketty. Luz was still clinging to my arm. I was pretty sure she didn’t understand what we were saying, though she could see clearly enough that everyone was furious with me.

  My heart sank. Once she knew how I’d let everyone down, she’d be as pissed off with me as everyone else.

  ‘And what about why he was prepared to help you?’ Nico stormed on. ‘Didn’t it occur to you to be the slightest bit suspicious that a complete stranger was prepared to mount three separate rescue operations, all of which put him at risk and involved using his so-called company helicopter?’

  ‘There was no signal – we couldn’t phone anyone . . . there was no one else who could help . . .’

  ‘Did you see there was no signal?’ Nico raged. ‘Or did Carson just tell you? ‘And what about landlines?’

  I looked down. I hadn’t ever seen how many bars were on Carson’s mobile phone. I’d taken the whole thing on trust.

  ‘He said a truck had driven into the local power lines and that nothing was working.’ As I spoke the whole thing sounded ridiculous. How could I have fallen for it?

  ‘You’re a frigging idiot,’ Nico went on. ‘Even if all that were true, didn’t you ask yourself why would some random bloke off the street go to all these lengths to help?’

  ‘He said he and his wife couldn’t have children . . . that they felt they should help kids when they could.’ I bit my lip, remembering how it had felt like a good omen when Stanley told me his wife’s name – Sandra – the same as my step-mum’s. That must have been made up too, I realised, like his whole background story.

  ‘But not all kids,’ Dylan pointed out. ‘He left the younger ones from the Escondite behind – and everyone else in the camp.’

  ‘He took Luz.’ I looked across the room.

  ‘Only because you insisted,’ Dylan said.

  ‘Well, you came with him,’ I said to Dylan.

  ‘Don’t try and pin this on me.’ Dylan’s voice rose. ‘I was unconscious until we were in the helicopter.’

  ‘Basically, Carson sold you some ridiculous sob story,’ Nico said, more quietly, ‘and you fell for it like a complete prat.’

  Ketty laid a hand on Nico’s arm. ‘I think Ed feels bad enough,’ she said. ‘We all thought Carson was in prison, remember?’

  I shot her a grateful glance, my face burning.

  There was an awkward silence. Ketty cleared her throat. ‘The important thi
ng now is that we work together to try and get out of here, yes?’

  ‘What a good idea,’ Dylan drawled nastily. ‘Had any visions lately that’ll help us do that? Or are you still running on empty?’

  ‘Shut up, Dylan,’ Nico said.

  ‘What is visions?’ Luz said, faintly.

  Ketty looked away.

  ‘No, go on, Ketty,’ Dylan sneered. ‘Tell us how exactly you’re planning on getting us to “work together” so we can get out of here.’

  ‘Don’t speak to her like that!’ I snapped.

  ‘Back off, Ed.’ Nico sprang to his feet, fists clenched. ‘Don’t start frigging defending Ketty in front of me or I’ll frigging punch you, you frigging idiot. It’s your fault we’re all here.’ He took a furious step towards me.

  ‘Nico,’ Ketty said, crossly, ‘this isn’t going to—’

  ‘Well, I see the cat’s out of the bag vis-à-vis my true identity, then,’ Blake Carson said from the doorway.

  I spun round. We’d been so wrapped up in our argument, we hadn’t even heard him unlock the door. He was standing there, half-smiling, all tall and mean-looking.

  The cold sick feeling I’d had before settled like a stone in my guts.

  It didn’t matter how I tried to justify it. Nico was right, I had been an idiot. A total idiot. I should have sensed something was wrong.

  Nico immediately raised his hand. The chair he’d struggled to lift telekinetically before now soared into the air.

  Luz gasped as the chair flew towards Carson.

  And then Carson raised his hand and fired the gun at Nico. The chair fell to the floor.

  Nico staggered back and slumped into the sofa. His eyes closed.

  ‘Nooo!’ Ketty screamed. She flung herself down beside him. ‘Nico!’

  ‘You’ve killed him!’ Dylan shrieked.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Carson snarled.

  I stared at Nico’s arm. A tiny dart was sticking out, just above Nico’s elbow. There was no blood. I turned and stared at the gun Carson had used. It was some kind of tranquilliser.

  ‘What did you shoot him with?’ I said, my voice surprisingly steady, considering the anger and fear coursing through me.

  ‘A non-barbiturate sedative. Just enough to keep him quiet while I explain the deal to the rest of you.’

  I froze. ‘We had a deal yesterday,’ I said angrily. ‘You were going to help me and my friends get away from Fernandez.’

  Carson laughed. ‘And I did, Ed, remember? Now we’re just moving on to phase two . . .’

  My face burned. I’d been such a fool. And now Nico and Dylan were furious with me – and Ketty and Luz would never look at me with admiration in their eyes again. So much for Ed O’Brien, Man of Action.

  I should never have even believed changing was possible. I was useless, like my dad said.

  I always had been and I always would be.

  I looked up.

  Everyone else was still staring at Carson.

  ‘So go on, then.’ Dylan crossed her arms and shook back her hair. ‘What’s the deal?’

  Carson narrowed his eyes. ‘The four of you are going to make me a lot of money.’ He turned and signalled to two men waiting outside. As they walked in and hoisted Nico up off the sofa, Ketty spoke, her voice low and bitter.

  ‘How are we going to make you money?’ she said.

  ‘As I’m sure you’ve already been told, I trade in biological weapons,’ Carson said smoothly. ‘You, kiddos, are the ultimate biological weapons. All I have to do now is find a buyer.’

  ‘What?’ Dylan said.

  ‘What about Luz?’ I said. ‘What are you going to do with her?’

  The atmosphere in the room tightened. The two men carrying Nico left the room. For a second I hoped that Carson would fix his eyes on me. In my fantasy scenario I would be able to hold him with my mind-reading while the others escaped . . . Except what about all the guards? And where would we go? And how would we rescue Nico?

  Carson fixed his gaze on a spot to the left of my nose. ‘We’ll have to see about Luz.’

  I shivered at the sinister tone in his voice. What the hell did that mean?

  And then Carson raised his tranquilliser gun and pointed it at me. ‘For now, Ed, I suggest you stick to worrying about yourself.’

  As he squeezed the trigger I could hear Ketty start to shriek. A sharp pain in my upper arm. And then the room faded to black.

  15: On the boat

  Bump. Bump. Something pointy and hard in my back. Head pounding, I struggled to open my eyes. My eyelids felt stuck together. With a huge effort I forced them open. Darkness.

  Panic leaped into my throat. Why couldn’t I see? Was I blind? Suddenly I was wide awake. For a few moments thoughts careered wildly around my head. Had Carson blinded me to stop me mind-reading people? I gasped in a breath, registering for the first time that I was squashed and sitting on a hard floor that somehow seemed to be moving and the pointy thing in my back was either a blunt knife or a bony elbow.

  ‘Hello?’ My voice quavered in the darkness.

  ‘Ed?’ Ketty’s voice came from close by, to my left.

  I reached out my hand, groping into the black. I touched an arm. It was warm against my hand. The pointy thing moved. Ketty’s elbow.

  ‘Ketty?’ I tried to shuffle forward, but there was no room. ‘Where are we?’

  As I asked the question the movement of the floor beneath – a soft swelling motion – gave me the answer. We were at sea.

  ‘We’re locked in a cage in a lorry,’ Ketty said. ‘And the lorry’s on a boat.’

  I sat, trying to get my head round this information. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Ketty’s voice shook. ‘After Carson shot you with that tranquilliser Dylan went a bit mad and he shot her too, then he looked at me and Luz and asked if he needed to shoot us too or whether we’d behave and I couldn’t see any point in all of us being knocked out so I said fine and he blindfolded us and we got back in the helicopter and flew to the sea. I could smell it and hear it. Then he split us up and put you and me in this cage in a lorry. I guess the others must be in another one.’ She sniffed. ‘I’ve just been waiting for you to wake up. Hoping you were OK.’ Her voice cracked.

  I felt down her arm and squeezed her hand.

  ‘I’m so sorry about Carson, Ketts,’ I said, my own voice cracking now. ‘I didn’t—’

  ‘Don’t.’ She squeezed my hand back. ‘You were only trying to do the right thing. Nico and Dylan know that. They’re just scared.’

  I nodded, then realised that she couldn’t see me in the pitch black. ‘Er . . . I guess.’

  ‘What d’you think Carson is going to do with us?’ Ketty went on, as the boat pitched and rolled underneath us. ‘What was all that stuff about biological weapons?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I hesitated. ‘Have you had any visions since we left camp?’

  ‘Not a flicker.’ Ketty sighed. ‘I keep trying but nothing happens.’

  I hesitated again. ‘I’ve been trying to work on my telepathy,’ I said.

  Silence.

  ‘Work on it?’ Ketty said. ‘That’s not like you.’

  ‘I know.’ I rubbed my forehead.

  ‘So what have you been working on exactly?’ Ketty said.

  ‘Well, you know that thing I do where if I look into someone’s eyes I have to mind-read them?’ I said.

  ‘Yes.’ I could tell from the sound of Ketty’s voice that she’d turned slightly and was facing me.

  ‘I was wondering if it had to be like that,’ I said, thinking about my failed attempts at remote telepathy. ‘If maybe I could do it a different way.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve wondered about that too,’ Ketty said. She shifted again. I could just imagine her sitting up straighter and tucking her hair behind her ears in that determined way of hers. ‘I mean, it doesn’t really make sense . . . why should you get sucked in just because you look directly at someone? I mean, I’ve
wondered if . . . whether it’s really just some way for you to avoid making eye contact.’

  In the darkness, I froze. What was she saying? ‘But—’

  ‘I don’t mean you do it on purpose,’ Ketty hurried on, ‘just that making sure you don’t look people in the eye has become a habit you’ve got into which you’ve convinced yourself you have to do, but which is actually just a convenient way of not . . . not . . . really connecting with people’ She paused and the dark space between us filled up with the silence. ‘I thought that’s what you meant when you said you were trying to do your telepathy a different way. Wasn’t it?’

  I sat, rigid in the blackness, Ketty’s words going round my head. Was what she said true? Was mind-reading on eye contact actually something I could choose not to do?

  ‘Ed?’ Ketty’s hand brushed my shoulder. ‘Ed? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  I took a deep breath. ‘You didn’t,’ I said. ‘You just made me think.’

  ‘About?’

  ‘I’ve been trying to mind-read at a distance since we got to camp. You know, get in touch with my mum and dad at home somehow.’

  ‘Really?’ Ketty’s voice burned with excitement. ‘That’s a brilliant idea.’

  ‘Yeah.’ I sighed. ‘Except it hasn’t worked. I thought it was because I needed the eye contact but if you’re right and I don’t, then there’s no reason why I shouldn’t be able to work out what anyone’s thinking.’

  ‘Try me now,’ Ketty said. ‘Go on . . . what colour am I thinking of?’

  ‘Okay.’ I sat for second. How to start? I took a few deep breaths and focused my attention on my mental image of Ketty’s face. In my mind’s eye I saw her clearly – the golden-brown eyes, wide and eager, the snub nose and the curve of her cheek, all framed by her dark curly hair. ‘I’m seeing you,’ I said. ‘But only on the outside.’

  ‘Keep going,’ she said. ‘Don’t force it.’

  I tried to relax. It wasn’t easy being all cramped up in this cage. Another deep breath. I let my body release, sinking down into the ground. Beneath me, the gentle movement of the sea was rhythmic and soothing. More deep breaths. I kept Ketty’s face in my mind as I imagined looking into her dark eyes. There she was. There.