The Midnight Mercenary (5 page)

‘It's all right,' said Amelia. ‘There's a little annexe through here – look.' She slid open a panel door to reveal a narrow room with bookshelves along one wall and a row of framed pictures on the other. ‘You can take turns.'

There was a great deal of jostling and noise as the Scouts organised themselves into warm clothes. Although, not all of them. Amelia noticed that half of them seemed content in their wet gear. She nudged Charlie, who nodded. She was pretty sure the aliens were here. Either they only
looked
wet, and were perfectly dry and comfortable under their holo-emitter disguises, or they were the kind of aliens who didn't mind being cold and soggy.

Mary had bustled James off to get towels from the upstairs linen press (she wasn't letting Charlie or Amelia out of the library again), and had brought out a massive plastic container of Dad's homemade biscuits. Soon the Scouts had pushed back the chairs and table, made space on the floor, and were sitting in a wobbly circle, passing the biscuit box from hand to hand.

Dad's biscuits were a bit of a gamble. Some were perfectly normal choc-chip cookies, using a perfectly normal recipe. Others had been tweaked a bit – like adding crushed mint candy canes to the double-chocolate brownies. And some were straight out mad-scientist experiments, like the rock cakes made with Vegemite, sultanas and curry powder. As the biscuits went around the group, it turned into a game of cookie roulette – in the candlelight, no-one really knew what they were picking. Each time a Scout took a biscuit, everyone held their breath, waiting for the reaction to the first bite.

Sometimes, the Scouts would chew a few times, then smile and say, ‘Custard and strawberry jelly,' and the rest of the group would sigh in disappointment. Then around the box would go: coconut-ice slice, butterscotch shortbread, gingersnaps, and then just as everyone was getting a bit bored, the next Scout would splutter and gag and gasp, ‘I don't even know – gherkin and apricot jam?' The room would erupt in a roar of delight, and around the box would go again.

Charlie was down there with them, grinning broadly as the girl next to him spat a mouthful of cookie into her hands and shuddered. Amelia, though, sat back from the group and only watched. She was glad the Scouts – humans and aliens alike – were having a good time, but she'd had too much stress tonight to shrug it off and play. The behaviour of the Scout leaders wasn't helping her relax, either.

Two of them, Kev and Lorraine – she guessed they were probably the humans – were trying to figure out how far back in the bush their abandoned camp site was, and how long it would take them tomorrow to trek back to recover their equipment. Two others, Barry and Terry, were almost silent. They nodded or grunted in agreement or sympathy every now and then when Kev or Lorraine tried to include them in the conversation, but mostly they just stared at the kids with bleak, exhausted eyes. Only Derek showed any interest in the kids' game.

As Amelia watched, he slid off his chair and squashed into the circle to take his turn at the biscuit box. He smiled and laughed along with the kids, and when the box reached him, every kid was wide-eyed, waiting to see what he chose. He bit into his cookie with a grand flourish.

‘Mmf, my favourite!' he mumbled through his full mouth.

All the kids groaned.

‘Toenails and woodlice!' Derek went on. ‘Crunchy and nutritious!'

The kids all screamed in disgust.

Despite herself, Amelia smiled.
That
was what a real leader should be like – helping everyone relax and have fun. Sitting around at a separate table, complaining or silently freaking out wasn't helping anyone.

As if he felt her looking at him, Derek turned and smiled at Amelia.

‘Are you going to have a go?' he asked, taking a biscuit out of the box and offering it to her.

She shook her head and blushed slightly.

‘Ah, very sensible of you.' He passed the biscuit to the Scout sitting next to him instead. ‘You can never be too careful, can you?'

Even as he said so, the Scout next to him dropped the biscuit to the floor and gasped. Everyone howled with laughter.

‘What was it, Len?' a boy shouted over the din. ‘Mustard and rhubarb?'

The boy had his back to Amelia, but across the other side of the circle, she saw another Scout's face drop with shock.

‘Look!' She pointed. ‘He's choking!'

Horribly, it took her three or four tries to get anyone to listen, and by the time the rest of the Scouts realised there was a problem, Len had collapsed sideways onto the floor and was shaking all over. Derek crouched over him, his eyes wide.

‘Len!' Terry yelled from the leader's table. ‘What happened?'

‘Oh, my word!' Lorraine leapt to her feet. ‘He's frothing at the mouth!'

‘It's an allergic reaction,' said Derek calmly. ‘He ate a peanut-butter cookie.'

James, for the first time all night, threw aside his book and came to see what was wrong.

‘He needs a shot,' he said. ‘He can't breathe – look! Where's his medicine?'

‘Medicine?' said Barry. ‘He doesn't have any –'

‘I'll get the first-aid kit!' James rushed to the other side of the room.

‘But he's not –' Barry and Terry looked at one another in panic. ‘Len needs –'

‘I know what he needs.' Derek eyed them both steadily. His face was a remarkable combination of authority and confidence. ‘I know exactly how to keep him safe. How to keep him healthy.'

It seemed to Amelia that Derek had said that awkwardly – he was putting all the importance on the word
keep
, instead of on
safe
and
healthy
.

He said, ‘You look after the others. I'll
keep
Len with me.'

There it was again, and this time, Barry and Terry blinked in wonder and just nodded obediently.

Keep
, Amelia thought.
Tom said something about a Keeper. Could Derek be …?

She gazed at him, and perhaps he guessed what she was thinking, because just as James rushed up with the red first-aid bag, Derek said to her, ‘It's water Len needs. Can you get me a bucketful? As much as you can carry.'

‘I can do that,' said Charlie, grabbing another candle and pelting out of the room.

By now James had unzipped the bag and was rifling through bandages and swabs looking for the emergency shot of adrenalin, but Derek interrupted him.

‘We need to move him
now
.'

James shook his head. ‘What? No! As if we have time to –'

‘
Now
,' Derek repeated. ‘Without delay. Into the annexe.'

Amelia was disturbed. Was Derek really going to make Len wait for his shot while they moved him to another place? It didn't make any sense, but arguing would only slow them down further, so she ran to the annexe door and slid it open. Derek and James carried Len inside.

In the pale light of the candelabra, they laid the limp Scout on the floor. Thick green mucus was bubbling out of Len's mouth. He was on one side and lay utterly still, with no sign that he was breathing.

‘You're crazy!' James fell back and stared at Derek. ‘I think he just died and
you
wasted his last seconds. You killed him!'

In that moment, Charlie staggered in with a bucket slopping water over the edges. Derek nodded in satisfaction.

‘Close the door, please,' he said to Amelia. Taking the bucket from Charlie, he poured the water over Len's head. He nudged Len with his foot so Len rolled onto his back, and Derek made sure the rest of the water fell onto Len's face and into his open mouth.

‘And now you're
drowning
him?' James gasped.

But rather than drowning, Len's whole body jolted. He twitched, writhed on the floor in apparent agony, and then sneezed so violently a wad of green froth spattered the floor and wall.

Almost instantly, there was a hard bang against the wall behind them. Turning, Amelia saw her brother had stumbled backwards, hitting his head and shoulder. His face was white with terror; he was staring fascinated and horrified at Len.

To be fair, Len was quite a surprise for anyone.

The sneeze had dislodged his holo-emitter, which now lay sparking on the annexe floor. Len himself, uncloaked from his holographic disguise, was now unmistakably
alien
– a giant slug, translucent and glistening, with a mouth wide enough to engulf James's whole head. Two green hearts could be seen beating deep inside his body, while his digestive system made an oddly beautiful squiggly line through his middle, shading from purple to blue to black. His antennae were retracted miserably into his head, and he trembled as yet more green mucus foamed out of his mouth.

‘It wasn't a peanut allergy at all, was it?' said Amelia. ‘It was the
salt
in the peanut butter that made him sick. Just like an Earth slug.'

‘Correct,' said Derek grimly. ‘You're a clever kid …' He paused.

‘Amelia.'

‘Amelia,' he nodded. ‘Well, Len should be OK in a couple of hours. He just needs rest to get over the trauma, and he'll need to stay here, now his holo-emitter is broken.'

Len didn't say anything. He just shuddered.

There was a soft choking noise, but it wasn't Len. Amelia gazed at James coolly.

‘What's wrong with him?' said Charlie. ‘Does he have a salt allergy too? I can get another bucket of water.'

‘H-how …?' James stammered. ‘W-what …?'

‘That's right, James,' said Amelia. ‘He's an alien.'

‘A Lellum,' Derek added. ‘One of the few to escape his dying home world. This little group tonight are almost all that is left of the whole Lellum race.'

James struggled to his feet, disgust twisting his face. ‘But that's not … you can't … I won't …' He clapped both hands over his mouth and stared again. He looked at Len's gelatinous grey body, the trails of silver slime that sparkled in the candlelight where Len had thrashed around, and the undeniably freaky sight of one of Len's eyeballs telescoping out of his head on its antenna and swivelling around to look at James.

James ducked his head, swore, then looked back again at Len. ‘It's all true, isn't it?' he moaned. ‘Every bit of it. It's all
true
…'

He drew in a deep breath, and Amelia braced herself. She wasn't sure for what – maybe James would scream. Or shout. Or get angry and attack Len. What she didn't expect was that he would sink back to the floor, roll himself into a ball and begin sobbing quietly.

‘Are you serious?' Amelia hissed at him, kicking the sole of his shoe. ‘You finally wake up to reality and
this
is all you've got? You're the
worst
, James.'

‘So what now?' said Charlie. He was squatting in front of Len, looking at the alien with interest. ‘Do we just hang out here until Krskn comes to get us or what?'

The mention of the name was electric. A ferocious look of surprise flashed over Derek's face, and Len writhed in another explosive sneeze. A wave of mucus flew out of his mouth, smothering Charlie's whole lower body.

Charlie snorted at himself in amusement. ‘Oh, man! I'm saturated. Still,' he nodded at Len respectfully, ‘cool defensive reaction. I wish I had one. Hey, Amelia – imagine Sophie T's face if I could do this. Oh – hey!' He slapped at his arms and legs. ‘This itches – it burns – ow! Hey, Len – ow! You're hardcore!'

Derek shook his head. ‘Get him out of here, Amelia. Take him somewhere he can towel it off his skin.
Don't
try to wash it, it'll only get worse.'

‘Got it,' said Amelia.

Despite his cocky attitude, Charlie was beginning to look scared. ‘It really hurts, Amelia,' he whispered.

She heard a sharp yelp outside the window. Was that Grawk? Derek looked startled, but only said, ‘Quickly, before he blisters.'

Amelia couldn't think about anything else. She rushed Charlie from the room.