The Beast of Seabourne (37 page)

“Think they'll buy it?”

“Totally,” Ruff said. “Sounds like exactly the sort of weird stuff archaeological history students would do. Mount Subasio, though? What black hole of geography trivia did that come from?”

“From four summers ago, when I spent a month walking all over it with my mum and dad. There's this Saint Francis of Assisi trail…” Oz shook his head. “Let's just say I know it quite well, and there are miles of paths through woods and loads of old churches and stuff. It would take someone days, maybe even weeks, to find them all.”

“Brilliant,” said Ruff, with a grin.

“But what about the rest of the plan?” Ellie asked.

“I'm leaving all that up to Soph,” Oz said.

Ruff started to protest. “But how is she going to convince—”

“Shh,” Ellie said as a group of year tens passed close by. “Remember what we said. No discussion here in school. It's too risky.”

Ruff frowned but nodded grudgingly.

Oz glanced at his watch. “Let's just trust Soph. We all know what she's capable of,” he said. Although he meant it, even as he said the words, from somewhere inside his guts he felt a ginormous swooping sensation, as a battalion of fluttery insects lifted off.

Chapter 17

The Dead Zone

At the end of that school day, while everyone else trooped off to their buses, the Cornish field trip party congregated in the hall. Skelton read out an equipment checklist—resulting in a couple of anguished groans when eating utensils and toilet paper were mentioned—and then gave everyone permission to go to the shops, with a warning to be back at four forty-five PM sharp. Ellie, Ruff, and Oz joined the other excited members of the group as they walked to a nearby Tesco, where everyone stocked up on sandwiches, crisps, various drinks, and a few other essentials. Ellie went for Jelly Babies, Oz bought a six-pack of Mars bars, and Ruff bought Jelly Babies, Mars bars, and a half-pound bag of sticky rubbish from the pick and mix.

At five PM, everyone was sitting expectantly on the minibus. Everyone except Miss Ladrop, of whom there had been no sign. At five past five, a red Ford Fiesta zoomed into the car park and screeched to a halt. A woman in a very warm-looking padded jacket and a beanie hat got out and began hauling bags from the boot.

“That's not Miss Ladrop,” Ellie said, squinting through the minibus' steamed-up windows.

“You're right. That's Hippie Arkwright,” Ruff said.

Twenty seconds later, Miss Arkwright was standing at the front of the bus, her face red from rushing, wearing an expression that was an unhappy mixture of resignation and frustration.

“Where's Miss Ladrop, miss?” said someone from the middle of the bus.

“Are you coming instead, miss?” demanded someone else.

“Close to a toilet and yes, in that order,” Miss Arkwright replied, shoving her bag under her seat with a bit more effort than was strictly necessary. “Miss Swinson rang me as I was on my way home to tell me that Miss Ladrop was in bed with galloping gastroenteritis.”

“The what, miss?” asked someone.

“The squits,” Miss Arkwright replied.

There was a collective “uuuuggghhh” from the bus.

“She looked okay at lunchtime when that van turned up with a delivery of Krispy Kreme donuts for her, miss,” a 2A boy said.

“Really?” Miss Arkwright said, with an air of grim suspicion.

“Yeah.I heard the man say they were ‘from a fan.' She ate most of them during our lesson, miss. Kept going to the back cupboard for felt pens, but each time she did, she came back with a bit of icing sugar on her nose.”

“Well, she's gone and overdone it with a vengeance, it seems. And since I'm the only other female member of staff with resuscitation training, it was either me or cancel the trip.”

“Aw, thanks, miss,” said Dilpak.

“Yeah, thanks, miss,” echoed half a dozen other voices, including Oz's.

Ellie leaned over and poked Oz with an elbow. “Skelton looks like he's won the lottery,” she said.

Miss Arkwright gave Mr Skelton, who was indeed grinning broadly, a curt nod of acknowledgement before sitting down, and by a quarter past five they were at last on the Seabourne ring road, heading south towards the M4. Oz and Ruff had bagged one of the back seats with Ellie and Bernice Halpin, a nervous, talkative girl who happened to play in the netball team with Ellie, sitting next to her near the window. Ellie and Ruff had aisle seats, which would have meant more leg room, except the aisle was almost nonexistent, piled high as it was with bits of luggage and boxes of essentials like water and geological hammers. The roof, too, had been piled with bags and covered with a khaki tarpaulin held down by thick bungee cords. Anyone seeing them pass by were left in no doubt at all that this was a no-messing,
serious
field trip.

Skelton's plan, as explained to them in the hall, was to get halfway and then stop for supper. Oz, Ellie, and Ruff had made a pact of silence until then, but it was clearly preying on Ellie's mind.

“But what's supposed to happen after the service station?” Ellie hissed, leaning over to fiddle with her bag so that she could whisper to Oz.

“We have a plan,” Oz said, trying to sound confident. The fact was.he didn't really know himself. He'd just explained to Soph what he wanted to happen, and she had glowed a bit and said simply, “Request understood.”

With the exception of Niko, who sat next to Miss Arkwright behind Mr Skelton, the rest of the 2C contingent clustered at the back, and they spent their time listening to the tinny radio, plugged in to their own iPods, or lost in handheld game consoles. All in all, they were a satisfied bunch; the buzz of excitement that had fizzed around the hall before leaving was now just a low background hum. They discussed prising fossils out of cliff walls, and someone dared someone else to go skinny-dipping in the sea. Once, Oz heard mention of the scene between Mrs Williams and “that weird woman with the red hair” at last night's concert, but since no one except Ellie, Ruff, and him knew who the Cuckoo really was, the topic died mercifully quickly. Mostly it was the usual year eight banter, and Oz was glad they were more concerned with Madame Chang's homework, or what Mr Gingell was going to do for a week without Miss Arkwright, than with tonseldeberry juice.

At ten past seven, they pulled into the service station. Skelton, stooping under the minibus' low roof, stood at the front to address them.

“Right, thirty minutes here, please. Everyone make sure they use the loo before coming back on, because there will be no more stopping until we reach Cornwall. That means three hours on the bus.” He held up a finger. “We leave at seven forty-five on the dot, and we are not waiting for anyone.”

The sharp April air was a welcome change from the fug of the minibus as Oz, Ellie, and Ruff disembarked. The trio hurried across the car park to the services, which, as always, teemed with travellers. They each ordered a cheeseburger meal combo and found a table in the corner so they could talk without being overheard.

Ellie slurped deeply from a vanilla milkshake, looked around to make sure no one sat close, and said, in a conspiratorial whisper, “But I don't get how Soph can possibly—” She broke off as a shadow loomed over them. Miss Arkwright stood at their table, holding a full tray, eyes narrowed in good-natured suspicion.

“Why are you three sitting here on your own?”

Oz swivelled in his seat and saw that everyone else had grabbed tables right in the middle of the seating area.

“This was the only empty table, miss,” Ruff said quickly. This was not strictly true, since at least two thirds of the seats were unoccupied, although many tables were littered with trays of half-eaten food and dirty crockery.

“Well, there's lots of room over near us now. Come on, don't be so antisocial.” Her voice aimed for jolly but had an undertone of command.

Oz thought about protesting, but catching the shrug of reluctant acceptance Ellie gave him, he picked up his tray and followed Miss Arkwright over to where the rest of his year were sitting. Obviously, finding private time for discussion was not going to be easy on this trip.

“All I know,” Oz said out of the corner of his mouth so that only Ellie could hear as they threaded their way through the tables, “is that I trust Soph, and so should you.”

Miss Arkwright eased herself into one of the red plastic chairs opposite Mr Skelton. On the table in front of her were a large vegeburger, fries, and a super-sized milkshake.

“Blimey,” Ruff said in a low voice as he put his tray down on a nearby table, his eyes still glued on the mound of food on Arkwright's tray. “Don't know where she puts it all.”

Oz looked down at Ruff's tray, which was just as full, and said, “Probably the same place you do.”

By seven forty-three, they were all back on the bus. The sun had now set, and the temperature was already dropping. The weather forecast had promised a late blast of winter, with the threat of showers and sleet before dawn. Happily, the efficient bus heater soon had Oz out of his anorak and waiting nervously for the next bit of the plan to kick in. As prearranged, once they got back on the motorway, he reached into his pocket for the pebble and pressed the maker's mark.

“We've just left the service station,” he thought as a familiar tickling sensation kicked in somewhere inside his head.

“Thank you, Oz. I have already plotted our position,” Soph answered voicelessly.

Oz hesitated before thinking, “Ellie's worried.”

“I know. But she need not be.”

“Do you want me to do anything?”

“That will not be necessary.”

“Don't want me to create a distraction or anything?”

“No one on the bus will be aware of any change. However, I can designate the small window at your elbow as a projection-free portal if you like.”

“Cool,” Oz said without the foggiest idea of what she was talking about.

They made good progress on the road, passing junction after junction without delay, and people slowly drifted back to their iPods and portable PlayStations. Oz wished he'd brought the SPEXITs, but the truth was, he was too nervous to settle down to do anything much. From the maps Skelton had insisted on showing them all, Oz knew that to get to Cornwall, they had to turn south on the M5, and soon they were seeing signs announcing its approach. The tickle in his head went up a notch as, through the front window of the bus, he watched as they swung off the M4 and joined the M5 South towards Cornwall.

“How much farther is it, sir?” asked a boy halfway down the bus.

“A good two-and-a-bit hours,” Skelton said without turning around.

Oz sat back, feeling confused. Their plan had many flaws, and when Ruff had almost missed the trip, it looked like it might never get off the ground. But Ruff had made it, and with the lab coat misinformation about McClelland visiting Italy hopefully putting Gerber and Heeps off the scent, the coast was clear for the next phase. Admittedly, it was the hardest part of the whole plan, and that's why they'd called on Soph to help. Hearing Skelton merrily announce that they were a couple of hours from their Cornish destination, Oz, with a plummeting heart, suddenly knew they'd asked too much of her. After all, she was only an avatar. He saw Ellie throw him a crestfallen glance, and read defeat written all over it.

She was right; Soph could not perform miracles.

Oz pushed his head back into the headrest and sighed. Next to him, Ruff was looking at him and frowning, too. Obviously, he, like Ellie, had realised things were not going the way they'd hoped. Oz swallowed the lump of bitter disappointment that gathered in his throat. Well, at least they'd tried. He had no idea what they'd do now. Wait for Caleb to come back from Bulgaria and then ask for his help, he supposed. What else was there?

But Ruff kept staring and frowning in an annoying way. Okay, so their plan wasn't going to happen. There was nothing he could do about it now, and there was no point making a big thing of it. Oz half-turned to tell Ruff exactly this when he noticed his friend's pointing finger.

“What?' Oz said, not trying to hide his irritation, but when he looked down at Ruff's hand, he realised it wasn't his shoulder Ruff was making eyes at. It was the triangular rear window beside Oz's seat. Ruff's eyes flicked up to Oz's and then back over Oz's shoulder, his eyebrows two arches of puzzlement. Oz turned to look, cupping his hand against the glass to shut out the light of the bus to peer out.

What he saw was a large expanse of blackness broken only by a red beacon flashing on and off in the middle of the emptiness. A few lights twinkled some distance away, and large vertical posts kept zinging past at speed. Oz peered harder.

They weren't posts; they were thick metal cables.

Then it hit him. The blackness was water. The twinkling lights were houses and streetlights on a shoreline, and the flashing beacon was for navigating ships. And the cables… cables held things up…things like bridges. An electric charge of excitement zipped through him, and he sat bolt upright. He snapped his head up to look out of the front window again and saw Ruff do the same, as Ellie watched them with a puzzled frown creasing her forehead.