Bunyips and Billabongs

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Bunyips and Billabongs Page 8

by Amy Hopkins


  “That’s kinda sweet,” Cisco admitted.

  Penny sighed. “Yeah, until they bail up my future job reference and try to show him my baby photos.”

  Cisco smirked. “At least it was just Crenel. Could you imagine if we’d had to bring Dean March? She’d be beside herself!”

  Penny giggled. “Dean March and flat-Earthers? Oh, hell, no. I can already see that big pulsing vein in her temple. It’d explode!”

  Cisco chortled. “I’m not sure if she’d completely erupt or just stand up and walk out with that glassy expression that means she’s off to rip into her husband.”

  “I wonder if she’d throw me out of the Academy after meeting them?”

  “What, and lose their best student?” Cisco frowned at Penny’s eye roll. “You do know that, right?”

  “Know what?” Penny asked.

  “You’re March’s top student. The best all-arounder.” Cisco grinned. “I’m third on the ladder after Trevor, and Amelia and Red are right up there too. But you? The FBI can’t wait to get their hands on you.”

  “What?” The praise made Penny uncomfortable. She knew she was a good student. She worked her ass off, just like her friends did. It was the comparison to her boyfriend that rankled her a little. “You do heaps of stuff better than I do,” she insisted.

  “You’ve got the thing,” Cisco said quietly. A hint of pride warmed his voice. “That thing that makes a good agent. We all see it. You’re special, Penny.”

  Waving away the compliment, Penny finished her first scotch. “Rubbish. We’re all special. And so is this scotch, wow. Even Paddy would be impressed!”

  When Penny awoke the next morning, it took her a moment to get her bearings. She sat up in the narrow bunk and rubbed her eyes, glaring at the slice of dim light Boots was letting in through the gap she was making in the curtains.

  Penny groaned. "Boots, what are you doing?"

  Boots dropped back to the floor, letting the curtain fully close. She slithered back to Penny's bed and began tugging her blankets down.

  Amelia leaned down from the top bunk. "Is it raining?"

  Penny nodded. "It doesn't look heavy, but I can't see an inch of blue sky out there."

  Amelia sighed. "Yet again, my wardrobe is proving to be woefully inadequate for this trip. You didn't happen to bring a spare raincoat, did you?"

  "Sure," Penny said. "I always have an emergency poncho in my bag, and I packed my Driza-Bone for the trip."

  "I never thought I’d have to rely on you for clothes," Amelia admitted. "What are you going to wear?"

  Boots chuckled at that and nudged a pair of jeans out of Penny's bag.

  "Right," Amelia said dryly. "Jeans, a t-shirt, and those ugly-ass boots. I don't know why I needed to ask."

  "It has been a year and a half," Penny pointed out. She wriggled out of her pajamas and began to dress. "You really should know by now."

  Boots pulled herself up to the top bunk and buried herself under Amelia's blankets. She popped her head out the top and booped Amelia's nose.

  "Okay, okay. I'm getting up." Amelia rolled off the bunk and landed with a thud, then stumbled as she found her balance on the swaying train. "I can't wait until we arrive. I'm so sick of this trip."

  "It hasn't been so bad," Penny said. "The food is great."

  "Penny, you spent all of yesterday trying to hide from your parents. On a train. There's nowhere to go!" Amelia rifled through her bag, and after some consideration, also pulled out a pair of jeans. "Or did you finally sneak off to get some privacy with Cisco?"

  "We mostly just hung out at the bar," Penny said. "It's nice in there. Not too crowded."

  Amelia rolled her eyes. "I spent the afternoon following Red around to every carriage with food on offer. I’ll be shocked if they have anything left for breakfast this morning."

  Thankfully Amelia's fears were unfounded. When the girls arrived at the dining car, a full buffet breakfast had been laid out. "This looks amazing," Penny gushed. "Look, they even catered for Americans!" She pointed toward a jug of maple syrup next to a plate of steaming bacon and stacks of thick, fluffy, freshly-made pancakes.

  "You know, I think it's actually a Canadian thing we adopted. They put maple syrup on everything. Hell, they probably eat their shirt if they spill syrup on it." Despite her words, Amelia quickly added a few strips of bacon to her plate and drizzled some syrup over them. She added a pancake, then scanned the room for coffee.

  By the time the boys joined them, Amelia and Penny sat before empty plates and mugs.

  "You ate without us!" Red complained.

  "Yes, I ate. It's nice to do that occasionally and not have half your meal stolen by a hungry boyfriend." Amelia smiled to take any sting out of her words and picked up her empty plate. "I don't mind going for a second helping, though."

  "And you'll share it with me?" Red asked. "There's no way I can fill my tummy with a single plateful of food. I don't even think two would do."

  "Dude, you really need to get that sorted." Cisco rubbed his eyes. "Your stomach was growling all night. It was so loud it kept me up."

  "You go grab some food, and I’ll get you a coffee," Penny offered. "Can you get me an extra pancake? With some bacon and syrup? It tastes so good."

  Cisco kissed her on the forehead. "Anything for you, my dear."

  "You're making me jealous," Amelia teased. "The sharing of food only runs one way in our relationship."

  "Aww, Milly, you know I'd never let you starve." Red wrapped an arm around his girlfriend. "I'd let me stomach eat me from the inside out if it came to that."

  "I know you would, you big goof. Come on, let's go fill your rumbly tummy." Amelia led the way over to the buffet, with Red and Cisco trailing behind her.

  Chapter Twelve

  The train arrived at their destination mid-morning. Penny stared out the window of the lounge car, wondering what the hell they were in for.

  "Oh, look at that." Whatever Marge pointed to was obscured by her face, pressed against the window. "It's like a big tent! Not one of those rubbish pergolas, a big fancy one. Oh, I can't wait!"

  "Mum, are you sure you want to go through with this?" Penny asked. "I don't want you and Dad to get hurt. It’s not too late to go home.”

  "Now Penny, don't forget, me and your mum are as old as the hills. I know you think this uni of yours has taught you everything you need to know about life, but we've been around the block a few times." Gerald gave his daughter a suffocating embrace. "We'll be just fine, your mum and me. We'll stay out of trouble, and we’ll be super careful not to blow your cover."

  "Not talking about blowing our cover would be a really great start, Dad," Penny groaned. Still, she hugged him back. "Look, I'm gonna be pretty busy while we're here. I'll try and catch up for dinners, okay?"

  "Of course, dear." Marge patted her arm. "I'll do my best to keep your dad out of your way. We've got a holiday to enjoy!"

  Penny watched her parents make for the exit, arguing over who packed the charging cord for the camera, and if anyone had locked the laundry door before they left. She felt a pang of homesickness and promised herself she would make time for them before the trip was over.

  She slung a backpack over one shoulder, then coaxed Boots inside. For now, the serpent was to stay hidden. Penny didn't want to risk her being targeted by whatever operation they were here to investigate. "I promise to let you out to have some fun later."

  Penny stepped off the train and hurried over to the enormous shelter. It wasn't just any tent. A big steel beam supported the centers, holding taut the thick white fabric pinned to the ground by heavy ropes. Tourists clustered inside, and Penny noted at least a dozen new faces, all dressed in matching uniforms embroidered with a white crow on the left breast. One such person approached them.

  The black of his uniform matched his glossy black hair, the green trim vibrant against his dark skin. His eyes glittered as he approached.

  "Good morning!" The man gave them a warm smile. "My
name is Corey. I’m going to be your assistant today. I'll give you a quick tour of your accommodations, then show you to the restaurant for lunch. Is this all of your party?"

  Penny glanced at her friends, then scanned the crowd. "We're waiting for one more." Red, Amelia, and Cisco were beside her. Off in the distance, she could see her parents chatting excitedly to one of the other hosts. Agent Crenel, however, was nowhere to be seen. "Anyone know where he is?"

  "Dad probably has some business to attend to," Cisco said pointedly. "I'm sure he'll catch up."

  Corey smiled in understanding. "We can wait for your father to join us if you like, or go on ahead. Our staff will look after him, I promise."

  When Penny gestured for him to go ahead, Corey led them through the crowd to the other side of the tent. Rain-splattered walkways led toward several buildings, each named after an Australian native animal. Checking the names on his clipboard, Corey informed them they would be in the Wombat residence. He passed each of them a small package of folded plastic. "Ponchos, so you don't get wet."

  Amelia opened hers excitedly. "I won’t have to borrow one, Penny." She slipped her head through the opening, bunched up the sleeves, and twirled. "Honestly? It looks like a plastic bag."

  "It is a plastic bag," Penny agreed. "But it's waterproof and tiny."

  "If you damage or lose it, don't worry," Corey reassured her. "We have plenty. You'll find them by the doors at most of the buildings, along with complimentary umbrellas."

  "Can I get a hand with mine?" Red asked dubiously.

  Penny looked at him, then burst into giggles. He’d managed to get it on all right—in a manner of speaking. The “one size fits all” designation apparently hadn't taken Red's enormous size into account. Even before he’d contracted lycanthropy, he had been taller and more muscular than most. Now, however, he was a giant. Penny realized she had stopped noticing until he got into situations like this one.

  The plastic stretched and warped over his chest and bunched up around his biceps. One sleeve, in fact, had already split open. Red-faced, he stood there with his arms out, trying not to do any more damage.

  Struggling to keep a straight face, Corey offered to run for an umbrella.

  "Naw, it's just rain," Red said. He gave up trying to keep the poncho in one piece. He flexed, stretched, and shook. Pieces of the poncho drifted to the ground while he gently tore off a sleeve that still clung to his body. Bunching it into a ball, he looked around for a trash can. "Oh, hey! Look who I found!"

  Agent Crenel was loitering around the trash can, talking on his phone. When he saw the students gesturing at him, he quickly ended his call. "Hey, kids! Sorry, I got a bit lost back there. Have you found our rooms yet?"

  "Corey was going to take us over," Penny explained. "We were just waiting for Red to finish destroying his rain gear."

  Agent Crenel eyed the plastic packet Corey offered him, then shook his head. "It's just a sprinkle. I'll be fine."

  "Now you're all together, let's go find your rooms." Corey ducked out from under the cover of the waxed cloth roof and into the rain. With a quick glance to check all of his charges were following, he led the way to the accommodation area.

  “Rooms” was a bit of an overstatement, but not by much. Rather than traditional cabins or cottages, the resort accommodation was in the form of luxurious glamping tents. They were tall enough to stand up in, assembled on wooden floorboards, and came complete with electricity and running water.

  "It's a tiny house made out of cloth," Amelia gushed, impressed. "We're roughing it without an ounce of rough."

  "Doesn't look anything like roughing it to me," Penny said. If she was honest, she would rather be sleeping under the stars at Dave's. This wasn't a holiday, though, and she had to admit it was a lot nicer than some of the cheap hotels she had stayed at.

  "Your luggage will be delivered in the next twenty minutes," Corey said. “Do you remember the restaurant building I pointed out on the way here?" Penny and Amelia both nodded. "You'll need to meet there for lunch at midday. You can certainly head over earlier if you like, but we do request all guests be present for the introduction and the safety briefing. We wouldn't want any of you to get eaten, now would we?" Corey gave an exaggerated wink, then asked if there was anything else the girls needed.

  “We’re good,” Penny assured him.

  "Right then. I'll go and make sure your friends are settling in, then meet you in the restaurant at midday. If you need anything before then, that's where I'll be." Corey ducked out of the tent, closing the flap behind him.

  "I wonder how safe that is," Amelia mused. "If this place really is full of Mythers, is that flimsy cloth really going to offer any protection?"

  "Let's hope we don't find out," Penny said. She jumped when somebody tapped at the tent flap. "Who is it?"

  "Santa Claus." Crenel peeled the flap up and stuck his head in. "We need to talk."

  “I just got off the phone to one of my contacts,” Crenel said brusquely. “Something isn’t adding up.”

  “What kind of something?” Penny asked. She unzipped her backpack so Boots could join the conversation.

  “Looks like Silas might be involved after all.” Crenel shook his head, clearly unhappy with the development.

  “Silas? You mean Geoffrey Nevins’ brother?” Amelia said. “The one you swore wouldn’t be involved?”

  “Exactly.” Crenel reached for a cigarette, then looked at the soft wall coverings and put it away. “Dammit. Look, I’m not sure either way yet. Our information is coming through my superiors at the FBI, who are getting it through Interpol, who are getting it from God knows where. It’s a clusterfuck of Chinese whispers, and we’re on the butt end of the joke. Whoever is on the Australian end is apparently putting up a fight thanks to our involvement at the zoo.”

  “What?” Penny shook her head, confused. “Why would they do that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know…” Crenel screwed up his face. “Getting shown up on their own soil, the meddling involvement of a foreign agency. Take your pick.”

  "If we can't trust the information we've been given, we may as well be going in blind," Penny pointed out.

  "Worse." Crenel crossed his arms, his stance mimicking the dissatisfied look on his face. "That information can lull us into a sense of false security. Some of the worst mistakes I've seen on the field were because of people relying on information they shouldn't have. At the same time, we can't disregard it completely. Stay on your toes, keep out of trouble, find out what you can."

  "Staying out of trouble isn't exactly our specialty," Amelia teased the agent. "But we'll do our best."

  "Good. What's your plan?" Crenel waited expectantly.

  Penny gestured to the open tent flap and beyond. "Be tourists. Do the tour, catalog any and every Myther we see, and match those up to the ones we know were procured before the trading ban. Cross-reference those with any known to be poached or kidnapped. And, you know, be tourists. Stick our noses in where we’re not wanted, poke around where we shouldn't, and generally make nuisances of ourselves."

  Crenel gave a brisk nod. "There seems to be a general lack of stupidity in that plan. I like it."

  "Our plans are never stupid," Amelia protested. "They just…well, don't always pan out."

  "That's the understatement of the year," Penny muttered. She turned a bright smile toward Agent Crenel. "We have an hour until lunch. Plenty of time for us to get into trouble. Are you coming?"

  He lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "What do you think?"

  Penny grinned. "I think I'll see you at midday on the dot, hopefully talking to my parents and keeping them out of trouble."

  After Agent Crenel left, Penny looked at Amelia. "So, where is our first stop?" She tossed one of the brochures toward her friend and gestured at the map on it.

  Amelia studied for a moment. "The gift shop."

  "Seriously? I know you love shopping, but—"

  Cutting her off, Amelia explained, "If they’re traff
icking animals illegally, who's to say they're not also selling forbidden artifacts?"

  "Oh. Sorry." Penny grabbed her purse and gave Boots a quick scratch under the chin. "Are you coming with us? You'll have to stay hidden. The backpack probably won't do." She held out a water bottle enticingly.

  Boots shook her head, burying herself under the pillow on Penny's bed instead. Soon, the only part of her that was visible was the tip of her tail.

  "You could have just said no." Penny set the water bottle on the small table next to the bed. She left the lid off in case Boots was thirsty, then headed for the tent flap. Once she and Amelia were both outside, Penny fastened it. "This doesn't feel very secure. What if someone goes into our room and sees Boots?"

  "It'll be fine. Boots knows to hide if she hears someone coming. Worst case scenario, she eats them whole." Amelia gave a shrug. "You know if it comes to that, they'll deserve it."

  "You're right." Penny gestured around her as they walked toward the buildings they had passed on the way to their room. "It's just that all this is not what I was expecting. I didn't think it would be so nice. Or so…"

  "Touristy?" Amelia held up the brochure. "There's a whole page on this thing about eco-conservation and a big spiel about how the goal is to prevent the poaching and exploitation of Mythers. Not the kind of thing you'd expect from the very people who are doing that."

  "They didn't send us here on a hunch," Penny pointed out. "The FBI must've had some kind of concrete information to send us here. There has to be something going on. Besides, when you think about it, wouldn’t that be the perfect cover?"

  "Then let's find out what the real story is." Amelia pushed against the glass doors of the gift shop. "Starting right here."

  Not for the first time that day, Penny was taken by surprise. She had half-expected to find taxidermied Mythers on keychains and lanterns fueled by sprites trapped in glass jars. Instead, the gift shop specialized in art pieces. There were already a couple of guests meandering through the expensive display, ogling framed photographs of rare Mythers and pointing at tapestries depicting ancient gods and legends.

 

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