The Monster Within (9 page)

‘We need to abandon ship!' Jack yelled.

Hydrogen continued to leak from the balloon.
The airship could still explode.

Stumbling to the rear of the vessel, they opened the door as the airship bounced
off the ground again. It tilted as the wind dragged it across the desert. Lightning
flashed. Scarlet grabbed Jack's arm, pointing. The ground ahead was level.

‘Now!' she yelled. ‘Jump!'

They leapt, hit the ground and went sprawling. Scarlet's elbow connected with Jack's
face and he saw stars. Groaning, he sat up to see Scarlet already on her feet. The
airship was still being dragged across the desert by the wind. Then the gondola snagged
on something, broke in two and the balloon exploded, casting wreckage to the wind.

Spot fires dotted the desert. The rain fell more heavily, a drenching downpour.

‘Well,' Scarlet said, collapsing next to Jack. ‘We're landed.'

‘We're landed,' he agreed. ‘But where are we?'

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The rain fell steadily. The dark landscape flashed with lightning and the wind howled
like a mighty beast. Jack felt like he'd been through a washing machine—and it wasn't
over yet. He pointed to the remains of the airship. ‘Over there,' he yelled. ‘We'll
find some shelter.'

They navigated the uneven ground to the shattered vessel. It had been torn apart
by the explosion, but still offered some refuge from the storm as they tucked into
a corner of what had been the roof. Jack wrapped his arms around Scarlet.

‘What would Blockie do at a time like this?' Jack asked.

‘Probably point out that her name is not Blockie,' Scarlet said, shivering. ‘Then suggest sleeping till dawn.'

Jack closed his eyes
with Scarlet's butchered hair pressed against his face. He doubted he would sleep,
but when he next opened his eyes, Scarlet was gone.

Easing himself from the wreckage, Jack slowly stood. The sky was bright and clear.
He felt like he'd aged a hundred years. His back hurt. Both legs were sore, as was
his arm where Fleming had stabbed him with the needle. He had an enormous bump on
his head.

They had landed in the middle of a rocky desert. Desert grass and dry rock stretched
away in all directions to pastel-coloured hills. There was no sign of civilisation:
no houses, roads or airships.

‘You're awake.'

Jack turned to find Scarlet standing a few feet away. Her clothing was a mess and
it looked like a hedge trimmer had attacked her hair—but Jack couldn't help grinning.

‘I think I'm awake,' Jack said. ‘Unless I've joined the zombie hordes.'

‘You're not a zombie.'

‘No zombie would feel this bad.'

‘We need to get back to Alhambra. Do you still have your compass?'

Good question. Jack patted his pockets. Yes, his parents' locket and the compass
were still intact. The needle swung around to
North
.

‘We must be in the desert south of Granada,' Scarlet said.

‘I didn't know Spain had any deserts.'

‘You should read your guidebooks more carefully,' she said. ‘It's not sandy like
the Sahara, but it's still hot and dry.' She peered at the coloured hills. ‘I'd guess
that this is the Tabernas Desert.'

‘That's really wonderful,' Jack said. ‘Knowing where you're going to die is a whole
lot nicer than dying in an unknown place.'

‘We're not going to die. At least,' she added, ‘I hope we're not.'

They sat back in their shelter for a few minutes to decide a course of action. Each
had a small stash of beef jerky on them. It wasn't pleasant to eat, but it was better
than nothing. Water was going to be the biggest problem. ‘We're lucky it rained last
night.' Jack pointed to some small rock pools remaining on the ground. ‘Otherwise
we'd have nothing.'

‘Those will probably dry up within hours,' Scarlet said. ‘We should drink from them
while we can.'

They spent the next few minutes lapping from the pools. The water had an earthy taste,
but was otherwise fine.

‘Now we'll need hats,' Scarlet said.

‘This is no time to worry about fashion,' Jack said.

‘You are so silly. You remember the lesson we had with Miss Bloxley?'

Miss Bloxley, their tutor, was a woman who looked disturbingly reptilian and could
speak for hours without seeming to draw breath. ‘I remember her mouth opening
and
closing,' Jack said, ‘but I don't recall anything she said.'

Scarlet sighed. ‘Most evaporation is lost through the head. Makeshift hats will help
keep us hydrated.'

‘Plus we can use them for food when we get extra hungry.'

‘An added bonus.'

They retrieved a few scraps of the airship's balloon, found some twine and constructed
two hats.
They look more like baby bonnets,
Jack thought. ‘Thank goodness there's
no one around to take a picture,' he said.

The airship had crashed on the top of a ridge, which explained why the storm had
tossed it about like a toy. Pastel hills stretched away in all directions.

‘What way should we go?' Jack asked.

‘South towards the coast,' Scarlet said. ‘We're sure to meet up with a road. From
there we'll hitch a lift back to Granada.'

They descended into a small valley, following it until it reached another ridge.

It didn't take long for the heat to rise. The sky was cloudless and soon the sun
was beating down.

Jack took off his coat and carried it. He was thankful Scarlet had listened to Miss
Bloxley. Their hats looked ridiculous, but he'd rather wear them than die of heatstroke.
He began thinking about how good it would be to have a glass of water, how refreshing
it would taste, how easily it would slide down his throat. He tried not to think
about it, but the more
he tried, the more it came to mind. Taking a break in the
shade of a small tree, he said, ‘What's that old saying? Water, water, everywhere,
and not a drop to drink?'

‘It's actually “Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink”,' Scarlet said.
‘It's from Coleridge's poem,
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
.'

‘What's it about?'

‘A sailor is on board a ship at sea. That becomes cursed when he shoots and kills
an albatross, a bird considered to be lucky.' She paused. ‘His shipmates hang it
around his neck as a form of punishment.'

‘They…what?'

She explained again, but Jack just shook his head, wondering if he'd started to hallucinate.
‘He has a dead bird hanging around his neck?' Jack said. ‘That's the most ridiculous
thing I've ever heard. Couldn't he just take it off?'

‘Maybe,' she said. ‘But it's a type of penance. His shipmates die from thirst, but
later come back to life.'

‘Oh?' Jack said, brightening. ‘They're zombies?'

Scarlet groaned. ‘I suppose so.'

They continued walking. Jack looked at his watch. It was just after midday. There
was still no sign of civilisation, just hills that seemed to go on forever. His
back was dripping with sweat.

‘Things could be worse,' Jack said.

‘Oh?'

‘We could return to civilisation, expecting everything
to be fine, but instead discover
the zombie apocalypse has happened.'

‘Jack,' Scarlet said, shaking her head. ‘Where do you get these ideas? There are
no such things as zombies. How can you have a zombie apocalypse?'

‘Very easily. First the milkman gets bitten by a zombie. He bites the postman. Then
he bites Mrs Magillacuddy, who bites Mr Magillacuddy,' Jack explained. ‘Before you
know it, the world has been transformed into zombie planet. The only people not affected
are two adventurers returning from the desert. They're forced to fight off a planet
of zombies to survive.'

‘I don't think we'd stand much of a chance against a whole planet of zombies.'

‘But if we survived we could eat as much chocolate as we wanted. And lemonade. And
water…'

Water. He didn't want to think too much about it.

They came over a rise. Another valley lay below, but this time it was different.
‘My goodness!' Scarlet said. ‘A house!'

Scarlet hurried down the hill with Jack close behind. They had barely taken a dozen
steps when Jack saw something move in the undergrowth.

‘Stop!' he yelled. ‘There's—'

He was too late. The snake lashed out and Scarlet screamed.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Scarlet slipped to the ground, grasping her leg. ‘I didn't see it,' she said. ‘Not
till the last moment.'

Jack examined her. There was a bite mark just above her ankle. He quickly squeezed
away the excess venom from the wound. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he looped
it around her leg to slow the blood flow.

‘How do you feel?' Jack asked.

‘Fine,' she said. ‘I just need to catch my breath.'

The snake had slithered away. Jack's first impulse was to let it go, but he might
need to identify it later. Snatching up a rock, he killed it and stuffed it into
one of his pockets.

Scarlet was already back on her feet. ‘Let's get to
that house,' she said. ‘Then
we'll find the nearest town.'

‘Are you sure you can walk?'

‘We can't stay here all day,' she said. ‘I'm all right.'

They continued down the hill. The house, an adobe cottage with a red-tiled roof,
was about a mile away, surrounded by a broken fence. A dirt road led away from it.

Jack glanced over at Scarlet. She was looking deathly pale now, but still moving
at a good pace. ‘Rest for a moment,' he said.

‘Not yet,' she said, breathlessly. ‘I can rest all I want once we reach the house.'

But Scarlet began to slow down. By the time they reached the broken fence, she was
starting to weave about. ‘I just need a cup of tea,' she said. ‘A biscuit would be
nice.'

She collapsed.

‘No!' Jack cried.

He took her pulse. It was steady, but she had broken out in a terrible sweat. She
opened her eyes blearily. ‘I don't know why people play chess,' she said. ‘It seems
unnecessarily…'

‘We're almost there,' Jack said. He carried her the rest of the way to the homestead.
‘Help! We need help!' he cried.

Nothing moved at the building. Now they were closer, Jack noticed how dilapidated
it was: everything in the garden had wilted or died. The front step hadn't been swept
in years. Struggling under Scarlet's weight, he gently placed her in the shade of
the veranda. The front
door silently swung open, revealing an empty house.

‘Bazookas,' Jack groaned. ‘What am I going to do?'

Checking behind the house, he found an old well, but it was dry, the sides fallen
in. Returning to Scarlet, he tried rousing her by tapping her face. Her eyes were
half-open, but she wasn't seeing anything.

‘I'm not leaving you,' he promised.

Mr Doyle had shown him how to pick someone up in a fireman's lift. Jack lay next
to Scarlet, rolled and slowly stood, her body across his shoulders. The road had
to lead somewhere. Probably to a larger road. All he had to do was reach it.

He started walking.

I'll count
, he thought.
One, two, three, four…

When he got to a hundred, he stopped, dropping to one knee to allow himself a rest.
The sweat was rolling off him in rivulets. He should abandon his green coat. Return
for it later. But he had food and some other items that might come in handy, as well
as the compass. He struggled up again.

Keep moving.

Counting, he walked another hundred paces. And another.

I'll walk five hundred steps
, he thought.
Then I'll have another rest.

When he reached three hundred and fifty paces, Scarlet shifted on his shoulders and
he heard a retching sound. He quickly dropped to one knee and laid her down. She
had vomited.

Jack tried to ignore his aching back and sore feet. He had stopped sweating, a scary
realisation. It meant he was dehydrated. He needed water. Lots of it. And Scarlet
needed medical attention.

He tried running with her on his shoulders, but only lasted a few paces. She was
too heavy.

‘We're going to make it,' he told her. ‘Just hang on.'

The road continued around a hill and straight across the desert. It had to lead somewhere.
He started counting again, but quickly lost count. The locket and compass rattled
in his pocket. He thought of his parents. Life in the circus had been difficult,
but they had always stuck together.

The heat was terrible. Only a mad person would be wandering about like this. Mad
or desperate. The landscape looked identical in all directions, with only the dirt
road in front of him.

I will not give up
, he thought.
I will not leave Scarlet. I just need to concentrate
on taking one step after another.

So he continued on.

A small wind tumbled across the plain, shaking the weeds and making a low rustling
sound. He could hear whispering in the wind, as if it belonging to a crowd of people.

This would be a strange place to die
, he thought. Here in a Spanish desert, so far
from London. But lots of people died a long way from home. Men who went to war died
on distant battlefields, surrounded by people who spoke foreign languages.

I mustn't think about death. I'm not going to die and neither is Scarlet.

But he couldn't help but wonder how he would survive without her. Jack had never
known anyone like Scarlet. She was his best friend, his confidante, his constant
companion. He saw her every day and every night. At breakfast, she had the curious
habit of buttering her toast to the very edges, and not drinking her tea until it
was almost cold. While reading, she held the book in one hand while playing with
her hair with the other. Before retiring for bed, she would listen to that annoying
classical music in the Bee Street parlour, staring at the ceiling as if she could
see straight through it.