Victory and the All-Stars Academy (5 page)

“
Most
of them are,” insisted Stella. “It's the brown ones that are the most dangerous apparently. And the spiders. You have to look out for the spiders. Redbacks are the worst.”

“What do they look like?” Issie began to feel as if there were spiders crawling over her skin as they spoke. She knew it was ridiculous, but couldn't help it.

“They have red backs—obviously!” said Stella.

“What about crocodiles?” asked Morgan anxiously.

“Yup!” Stella was warming to her theme. “There's loads of crocodiles in Australia—and great white sharks.”

“There's not going to be a great white shark in the middle of a paddock though, is there?” Kate said sarcastically.

“No,” Stella admitted, “but there's lizards—some of them bite too. And wombats and koalas.”

“Koalas?” Issie frowned. “I've never heard of anyone being attacked by koalas.”

“Well, dingoes then,” Stella said. “Wild dogs. They roam everywhere.”

“What do they look like?” asked Issie.

“They're kind of yellowy and skinny,” said Stella. She was clearly loving her new role as the resident expert on Australian wildlife. “And wombats are big and furry, and dark grey.”

“Do snakes attack horses?” Charlotte asked nervously. No one answered, and a silence momentarily fell over the group as they all peered anxiously at the grass beneath them.

It was crazy, Issie realised. A few moments ago they had been galloping at breakneck speed down a dirt road, totally fearless. And now they were wigging out about walking through the grass to get home!

They had reached the border of the property, the line of trees that Tara had pointed out that ran like a tall, leafy spine between Havenfields and Digger Murphy's farm.

Stella was still talking loudly about snake bites, and at first the girls didn't notice the howling noise that was coming from the blackberry bushes up ahead. In fact, the horses were the ones who alerted the girls to it. Arista and Kanga began snorting and shying back, their ears flattened against their heads.

“Hoi! Arista!” Morgan growled as the grey gelding
spun around and tried to bolt. She pulled on the reins hard, bringing the horse to a halt. Kanga had done a half-rear and Charlotte was doing her best to settle him.

“What's wrong?” Issie rode forward on Victory and the brown horse began to dance about anxiously too, the whites of his eyes showing with fear as he fought Issie's hands, trying to back away.

“Something's making them freak out!” Morgan said. “It's up ahead in those blackberries. It sounds like a baby crying. Arista is totally spooked.”

“Get up, Kanga!” Charlotte growled. But it was no use. The horses were terrified. They weren't going to move. Meanwhile, the howling in the bushes was getting louder.

“What on earth's in there?” Kate asked.

“I'm going to take a look,” said Issie. She jumped down and passed her reins to Kate, who seemed to be managing the best of all of them to maintain control of her horse. “Hold Victory for me.”

“What? You're going to look on foot?” Stella couldn't believe it. “Issie! What if it's a snake?”

“Snakes don't howl,” Issie replied. She wasn't feeling nearly as brave as that sounded. The howling
was truly awful. Whatever the animal was, it was in pain and that meant it was probably defensive and ready to attack.

“It's coming from in here.” Issie crept slowly forward into the blackberries, parting the thorny branches with her gloved hands. She could feel her heart thumping like mad.

“Can you see anything?”

“No! The brambles are too thick.”

“Here!” Kate said. She reached down from Costa's back and passed Issie a riding crop. “Try this.”

Issie grabbed the whip and used it to lever the branches apart. “Wait a minute. I can see it! Ohmygod!”

“What is it? What is it?” Stella, on Woody's back, was craning her neck to try and see.

“I need a blanket,” Issie said.

“We don't have a blanket.”

“Well, a sweatshirt then.”

“Here.” Charlotte untied her jersey from around her waist. “You can use mine.”

“Thanks.” Issie took the jersey and ducked back down into the bushes.

“Issie? What are you doing? Be careful!”

Issie was up to her waist in the blackberry bushes now. As she bent back down, she was grateful she was wearing her riding helmet to keep the branches from scratching her face. With quivering hands, she reached out and then jumped back as the creature in the bushes began to growl.

“It's OK,” Issie said gently. “I won't hurt you.” She stepped forward again, this time with the jersey out ready to grab the animal. There was a whimper and then Issie stood up with something large and furry in her arms. “I've got him!”

“Ohmygod!” Stella squealed when she saw Issie emerge with the animal in her arms. Wrapped in the jersey was a blue-grey fluffy shape with a little black nose and button eyes. “It's a wombat!”

“Don't be daft, Stella!” said Issie. She pulled the sweatshirt away so that the others could see.

It wasn't a wombat. It was a puppy.

The grey bundle in Issie's arms whimpered and squirmed. “Ohmygod!” Stella leant over Woody's neck and stared down at the puppy. “He is
sooooo
cute!”

“He's shaking like a leaf,” Issie said, “and he's covered in dirt. He looks like he's been in there for ages.” The puppy panted weakly in Issie's arms. “Poor thing, he must be thirsty and he's probably starving!”

“How did he get under there?” Charlotte wondered. “There are no houses around here. Where did he come from?”

“Maybe he ran away from home,” suggested Stella. “Or maybe he's wild?”

Issie giggled as the puppy's pink tongue snaked out
to lick her fingers. “I don't think he's wild.”

“Well, what are we going to do with him?” asked Kate. “Maybe we should let him go and he'll make it home on his own.”

Issie shook her head. “Even if he knew where his home was, I don't think he could walk very far. He's exhausted and dehydrated. We'll have to take him back with us.” She looked up at Kate. “I think I can carry him, but you'll have to lead Victory for me, OK?”

“You're going to walk?”

“It's the only way. He's too big for me to carry on the horse.”

Issie turned to Charlotte. “Is it all right if I keep him wrapped in your jumper? He really likes it.”

“Totally,” Charlotte said.

Issie held the puppy securely against her chest with both arms. It was a long walk back and the pup was a fair size. Issie guessed he was quite old, perhaps almost fully grown. He was definitely heavy! It was like carrying one of those big bags of potatoes that her mum bought at the supermarket. She hoped she was strong enough to get him home.

At least the pup was too exhausted to squirm about
too much. He stayed wrapped cocoon-like inside Charlotte's sweatshirt. Issie could feel his wee heart beating against her belly as he panted, and when she looked down, she could make out the little black twitchy nose in between the folds of the jersey and his pink, moist tongue darting out now and then as the pup tried to lick her hands.

“It's OK,” Issie told him, “you're coming with us. We'll take care of you.”

With Issie on foot, the others had to ride super-slowly. It took them twice as long to get back to the stables and by the time they arrived, Tara and the others had already gone back up to the house.

The girls put the puppy in one of the empty stalls and, even though he was weak with exhaustion, he managed to take a really big drink from one of the water troughs. The pup was wobbly on his feet and flopped down almost immediately after that and fell asleep in the straw.

“He is super-cute!” Stella said, admiring his
brindled coat, which was a sort of smoke-grey colour sprinkled with white hairs. The puppy's face had ginger markings, a bit like a fox, and his legs and belly were ginger too.

“What sort of dog is he?” Kate asked.

“Don't ask me,” said Stella. “I thought he was a wombat, remember?”

“Well, Wombat,” Issie said, stroking the pup, “we'd better get you some food.” She turned to the others. “He must have been in those bushes for a while. He'll be starving.”

“We'll untack your horses for you,” Kate offered. “You and Stella go and tell Tom about it and then get him something from the kitchen.”

While Charlotte, Kate and Morgan sorted out the horses, Stella and Issie walked back up the driveway to the house to find Avery and then hunt down some food for the pup.

The two girls were halfway there when a ute, a farm vehicle with a two-seater cab at the front and a flatbed trailer built into the back, pulled up alongside them.

The ute was so covered in dust, it was hard to know what colour it was underneath all the baked-on
dirt. The driver had a tanned arm dangling out of the open window. On his head he wore an Akubra—an Australian stockman's hat. A roll-up cigarette hung lazily off his bottom lip. His face was fixed in a permanent squint from years of staring across the paddocks in the glare of the harsh Australian sun.

“Gidday,” he said flatly. “You the girls who were riding across the paddock back there?”

Issie and Stella nodded.

“You didn't come across a dog, did you?” the man said. “I chased one up the back paddock in that direction yesterday morning and I lost the beggar in the blackberry.”

Issie looked at Stella, willing her not to say anything. There was something about the way the man asked this question that seemed menacing somehow.

“What kind of dog was it?” Issie asked.

“A blue heeler,” the man said. “It's been worrying my sheep. I found one of them with its throat ripped out two days ago.”

Then Issie saw the gun. It was lying across the front seat of the ute beside the farmer. The shotgun
was cocked open and a box of ammunition sat next to it.

“What are you going to do…if you find it?”

The farmer's expression didn't alter. He paused for a moment. “It's a sheep-killer. That mongrel needs a bullet through it,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Doesn't it have owners? Can't they make it leave the sheep alone?”

“No owners,” the farmer said. “It must have been dumped by the side of the road and now it's savaging the sheep.”

“But it's not the dog's fault!” Issie said. “If it was abandoned and hungry, no wonder it's trying to kill the sheep.”

The man in the Akubra hat saw the expressions on the girls' faces, and the way their eyes were drawn to his gun. “You ever seen a sheep with its throat ripped open?” He looked hard at them. “I'm not being cruel. That dog's got a taste for it now. Once they go bad, they've got to be dealt with.”

He put the ute into gear and revved the engine. “Anyway, if you see it, get someone to give me a call. I'm Digger Murphy. I run the station next to this
joint. They've got my number back at the house.” He gestured up the drive to the villa where Stella and Issie were heading. “Tell them I came by.”

Digger Murphy stuck his foot down on the accelerator and the ute rolled off again, dust blowing up from beneath its tyres. The farmer's tanned arm was still hanging out of the car window and he gave them a brief flick with his hand that was obviously meant as a goodbye wave. Then the ute revved up a gear and gained speed as he drove off down the road.

“What do we do now?” Stella asked.

“We go inside and find the dog some sausages,” Issie said.

“Should we still tell Tom?”

Issie shook her head. “Not now. If he knew about the puppy, he'd have to do the right thing and hand it over to Digger.”

“But Digger will shoot the puppy. He said so himself.”

“That's why Tom can't know about him,” Issie said. “We have to keep him hidden until we figure this out. Come on, let's go get some food.”

The pup was awake and sniffing the air hungrily when the girls returned. “We couldn't find sausages so we took some steak,” said Stella.

“He doesn't mind!” Kate grinned, watching the young dog wolf down the chunks of meat greedily, while Stella and Issie told the others about their conversation with Digger Murphy.

“We have to keep him here at the stables where he'll be safe,” Charlotte agreed.

“But we can't keep hiding him forever,” Kate pointed out. “And if he's killing sheep…”

“
If
he's killing them,” Issie said. “We don't even know for sure that Wombat is responsible. Digger has no proof that it was him.”

“Anyway,” Stella shot back at Kate, “it's not his fault. He was hungry and abandoned!”

At the sound of raised voices, the puppy gave a bark.

“Keep it down!” said Morgan. “You're upsetting him. He'll start barking.”

“Morgan's right,” Issie agreed. “Anyway, we don't
have to decide right now. Let's leave him locked in the stall for the night. We'd better get back up to the house before everyone starts wondering what's going on down here.”

Dinner that evening was a barbecue. On the verandah of the villa a long trestle table had been put up that ran the whole length of the west side of the building. Bench seats were set up on either side of the table, and the girls all took their dinner plates and sat down, while Avery manned the grill. There were hot dogs, cherry tomato and cucumber salad and big glasses of apple juice. There was steak too—but not quite enough to go around.

“I could have sworn I bought more meat than that.” Avery was puzzled as he threw the steak on the grill. Issie and Stella looked at each other and tried not to giggle.

The girls had figured out a plan before dinner and each of them had taken a plastic bag to the table, hidden inside a pocket. As they ate, they managed to smuggle a few scraps off their plates—a streak of steak
fat here and a bit of sausage-end there. By the end of the meal they had enough leftovers between them to make a dog's dinner.

They pooled all their scraps together back in Kate and Charlotte's room and prepared to go back down to the stables.

“I need to get a sweatshirt first,” Issie told them. The days were boiling hot in Melbourne, but the nights were the opposite, and the evening air was chilly.

“I need one too,” said Stella. “We can meet on the verandah in five minutes, OK?”

The girls were heading back to their rooms when Issie heard the noise. It was an awful screeching sound and it was coming from inside her bedroom…She opened the door. The
Mamma Mia
soundtrack was blaring out of Dee Dee's iPod speakers at full volume and Dee Dee was standing on her bed in a rock ‘n' roll pose, dressed in jellybean-print pyjamas, singing ‘Dancing Queen' at the top of her lungs into her hairbrush.

“
You can jiii-iive!
”

“Dee Dee!”

“
Oh, yeah!
” Dee Dee was bellowing so loudly into
her hairbrush ‘microphone' that she didn't hear Issie shouting at her.

“Dee Dee!” Issie stomped over and switched off the iPod.

“Oh!” Dee Dee smiled. “Hey, roomie! I didn't hear you.”

“Dee Dee.” Issie was stunned. “What happened in here?”

It looked like a bomb had hit the bedroom. Dee Dee's bed was strewn with clothes and the floor was covered with her junk. Dee Dee's mess had spread out like an oil spill and her stuff was all over Issie's side of the room too. There was a half-eaten sandwich lying on a plate in the middle of the floor and magazines had been flung about as if a hurricane had swept through. Half-empty soft drink cans were lined up on the dressing table next to a wad of chewing gum actually stuck to the dresser! Dirty jods and grubby old socks—Dee Dee's grubby socks—were lying on Issie's bed! In the midst of all of this sat Dee Dee. The iPod was switched off now, but she was still loudly humming the tune.

“Dee Dee!” Issie said. “This place is a total mess!”

Dee Dee looked around, surprised. “It's not that bad. Geez…”

Issie gave up. In a frenzy she snatched the socks and jods off her bed and threw them on to the floor. Then she grabbed her own sweatshirt and pulled it on, before heading back out of the door.

“Hey!” Dee Dee said. “It's lights out in ten minutes. Where are you going?”

“Out!” Issie said, slamming the door behind her.

In the hallway she met Stella, who had clearly been waiting outside and was staring at Issie with a grin on her face.

“Wow!” Stella giggled. “Sounds like there's a party in your bedroom.”

“It's Dee Dee!” groaned Issie. “She's singing Abba's greatest hits and turning the room into a pigsty!”

“Come on,” Stella said. “The others are waiting on the verandah—let's go.”

The puppy was bouncing around the stall with excitement when the girls unbolted the door. Even though he wasn't fully grown, he was already quite big and strong for a pup, and he almost bowled Issie over as she hand-fed him the scraps from the barbecue.

“Hey, Wombat!” she shrieked as she toppled over on to the hay. The puppy leapt on top of her and began licking her face. “Get off me!”

“Wombat?” said Charlotte. “Is that what you're calling him? I like it—I think it suits him.”

“He did look like a wombat when you found him,” Stella agreed.

“Look! He's eaten up all the food,” said Kate. “I think he's going to be OK.”

“Unless Digger gets hold of him,” added Stella darkly.

“What are we going to do?” Morgan said. “We can't keep him hidden forever.”

“We'll figure it out tomorrow,” Issie said. “Come on, we better get back to the villa.”

They bolted Wombat in for the night and set off back up the driveway. They didn't have torches, but the lights on the verandah were just enough to light the way. Still, they couldn't see the road beneath their feet.

“It's creepy,” Stella said. “What if there was a snake…”

“Or a great white shark!” Morgan piped up. The others giggled, but they were quite relieved when they
made it back to the verandah.

There was no one in the hallway. Issie was relieved that Avery and Tara had gone to bed. But there was still Dee Dee to contend with.

“Where have you been?” Dee Dee's beakish mouth was twitching as she stood waiting at the bedroom door.

“Nowhere,” Issie said. “I just…I went for a walk.”

“That's a bit odd, isn't it?” said Dee Dee. “Going for a walk in the middle of the night?”

Issie didn't reply. She wasn't going to let Dee Dee get to her.

“Oh, well, if you want to keep secrets, that's fine!” Dee Dee shrugged her shoulders and went back to the mirror. She had perfectly clear skin as far as Issie could tell, but she seemed to spend hours in front of the mirror fussing over her complexion. She had been busy since Issie left the room, preparing herself for bed by applying pimple cream to her face in huge white splodges.