by Greg James
Mary was at the door of Murph’s cell, placing the slim grey box on the wall. After a few seconds there was a click, and the door opened. Murph Cooper stepped out into the passageway and was immediately engulfed in yellow.
‘Nice to see you too,’ he said indistinctly into Mary’s shoulder. ‘Afternoon, all. Now, shall we get out of here?’ Mary reluctantly un-hugged him as the other four Zeroes grinned in the background. ‘Hi, Angel!’ called Murph. ‘Hello, Flora!’
‘Good to see you,’ called Flora, who was at the end of the passageway examining her map.
‘Now,’ said Murph, ‘just to be one hundred per cent clear – you’re not breaking me out just to lock me up again, right? You’re not about to start going on about how Nicholas Knox is my friend, and only wants to help me?’
‘Nicholas Knox,’ answered Flora, ‘is an oily toerag who isn’t interested in helping anyone but himself.’
‘Well, that’s a relief!’ said Murph, puffing his cheeks out and putting his hands on his hips. He’d had a long time to try and process what had happened at The School, but their betrayal by Sir Jasper and, far worse, by his own brother, still felt as raw as a fresh paper cut.
‘We’ll explain everything when we get you back to HQ,’ promised Flora. ‘But we’re not out of the woods yet! Right – this way, you lot. We’re close to the centre of the tower – time to get up to the roof and fly out of here!’
Hilda’s horses kept Mr Tembo at bay as the seven Heroes gathered at the far edge of the passageway beside yet another a thick iron door. Murph threw up a hand to shield his eyes as the sliding door ground open, admitting piercing sunlight and a blast of crisp, salt-seasoned air.
As his vision adjusted, Murph realised exactly where they were. The door opened on to a wide, circular platform of steel, blackened and twisted as if by intense heat. Girders and gantries lay scattered like the discarded playthings of some kind of weird giant robot baby. The platform stood in the middle of the tower like the centre of a doughnut. And right in the middle of the circle was a jagged, gaping hole. ‘That used to be the elevator down to Magpie’s cell!’ gasped Murph, walking forward dazedly into the light.
The most secure cell in Shivering Sands had been the underwater building where Magpie was kept. When its self-destruct mechanism had been activated, the cell had been completely destroyed. Murph had never even imagined what devastation that explosion might have wrought up above the waves – he’d been too busy escaping certain death below them.
‘No time to hang about gawping,’ Angel called to him tersely. ‘We’ve got to get up there and steal one of those!’
Murph followed her pointing finger. Ranged above them, on the roof of the circular tower, were several black Heroes’ Alliance helicopters. The only way up was a battered metal staircase. It seemed to have survived the explosion more or less intact. But now Murph was close enough to see down the hole in the centre of the circle, and he couldn’t resist dropping his gaze. His vision swam. Where there had once been a lift shaft leading down beneath the ocean, all that remained was a dizzying drop to the waves far below.
‘Let’s go!’ exhorted Mary, tugging at Murph’s arm as she and the other Zeroes began to race towards the stairs.
‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ said a burbling voice. A set of double sliding doors opposite them were opening, and several Cleaners began marching double-time into the metal circle, taking up positions around the edge. Leading them was a peculiar-looking creature with a head like an orange cloud. The stiff sea breeze carried a waft of stale scent towards them.
‘Gross! Who are you supposed to be?’ said Murph, holding a sleeve over his mouth. ‘The Incredible Stink?’
‘I am The Sponge,’ said The Sponge. ‘And I’m here to put you back in your nice comfortable cells.’
‘I very much hope you’re being sarcastic,’ said Mary as she and the other Zeroes joined Murph, ‘because they were not in any sense comfortable. And we have absolutely no intention of going back in them.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ gloated The Sponge. ‘I was warned the rag-tag remnants of the Heroes’ Alliance might try something like this. The President is far cleverer than you, you know. Even when most of our forces were called away to deal with your little rebellion, he warned me it might just be a diversionary tactic.’
‘What on earth are you going on about? Rebellion? What President?’ said Mary, nonplussed.
‘We’ll fill you in later,’ Flora told her, stepping in front of the four Super Zeroes. (We’ll fill you in too, promise. Next chapter, OK? It’s a deal. Stick with it for a few more pages. It’s fun being mysterious, isn’t it?)
‘Seize them!’ ordered The Sponge, flinging his arms out dramatically and causing the Cleaners nearest him to retch flamboyantly with the largest blast yet of badly dried-sponge reek.
‘Problem,’ pointed out Murph Cooper. ‘We don’t actually want to be seized.’
‘Correct,’ confirmed Mary, pushing up the sleeves of her yellow raincoat in preparation for combat. ‘Getting seized is not on today’s agenda. Escaping – yes. Finding out what’s been happening while we’ve been locked up – yes. Getting seized – definitely not.’
‘It’s No-Seize Wednesday,’ concluded Billy, also squaring up and looking left and right at the Cleaners advancing towards them in a pincer movement. Nellie didn’t speak, but Murph noticed that as she moved up beside him there was a distant flash in the lowering clouds above them.
‘This way!’ shouted Angel, who was already launching herself into a flying kick, knocking one of the Cleaners over backwards and racing towards the staircase.
‘Coming!’ said Hilda, following her. ‘Artax! Epona! To me!’ The horses emerged from the cell corridor and galloped after her as she, too, made for the stairs and safety.
‘Get to those helicopters! Go!’ urged Flora, sweeping the legs out from underneath a Cleaner who was closing in from the right, and shoving Murph and Mary away from the jagged hole in the platform. ‘I’ll hold them off!’
Murph could see Nellie and Billy chasing full pelt after Angel. As they approached her, a thin lightning bolt jabbed down, knocking over another group of Cleaners who were closing in. Despite the pressure, Murph beamed with pride at his friend’s control of her Cape.
The Super Zeroes and Angel gathered at the foot of the metal staircase.
‘Do not let them get to those helicopters!’ bellowed The Sponge desperately, squeezing his hands together in panic and emitting a few drops of sour-smelling fluid from his fingertips in the process. ‘Attack! Attack!’
Suddenly there was a gigantic trumpeting, and the platform shook under the onslaught of heavy, thundering footsteps. Mr Tembo, no longer held at horse-point, had decided to enter the fray. He burst out of the door like a train coming out of a tunnel and barrelled towards Flora, blowing a battle cry from his trunk and flailing his large grey fists.
‘Yes! Excellent! Get them, elephant!’ cried The Sponge.
‘I … am … NOT … AN ELEPHANT!’ thundered Mr Tembo, growing even more furious.
Flora had been fighting a heavily muscled Cleaner. By the time she looked round, it was too late.
‘MUM!’ screamed Angel in horror. She and the Zeroes looked on, powerless, as Mr Tembo slammed into Flora with the full momentum of an elephant-headed person running at full tilt. That’s a lot of momentum. Certainly enough to crash Flora bodily backwards, and right on to the edge of the yawning gap in the centre of the circle. She caught Angel’s eye briefly as she grabbed Mr Tembo by the lapels and, together, they fell backwards into the void.
We don’t know if you’ve ever thrown an elephant down a ruined lift shaft, but if you haven’t, believe us when we say it makes quite an impressive noise. The Cleaners and The Sponge stood open-mouthed, momentarily stunned by what had just happened. But not everything was motionless. There was a blur of silver as Angel pelted towards the hole, yelling at the top of her voice, ‘Mary! Tag me! TAG ME!’
Mary und
erstood instantly. Angel would be able to mirror her Capability as long as it had been activated. Pulling her umbrella from her belt, she pressed the button and, as the yellow canopy unfolded above her, she rose gently into the air. Angel just had time to give a thumbs up before she reached the hole and leaped into the abyss in a perfect swan dive. As she plunged out of sight she managed to yell, ‘GET TO THE CHOPPER!’
‘I know this is a high-stakes situation, but that was really cool,’ said Billy as the Zeroes clattered up the staircase and dashed to the nearest helicopter. Some quick work with Carl’s unlocking device unfolded the ramp, and within seconds Nellie was in the cockpit flicking switches. ‘Let’s see what this piece of junk can do,’ she said. ‘Ready, everybody?’
‘All set!’ replied Murph, pulling the lever to retract the ramp as the first pursuing Cleaners reached the top of the staircase.
‘Here we go again,’ moaned Billy.
Nellie shoved the throttle forward. ‘All right,’ she told her friends. ‘Hang on!’
There was a blast of air through the still-open hatch as the rotor blades above them blurred into action, but hardly any noise. Murph had forgotten how silent the electric helicopters developed by the Heroes’ Alliance were – but not how powerful. He was already holding tight to a handrail when the chopper lifted off and the g-force hit him. Nellie banked the helicopter sharply to one side immediately, forcing the knot of Cleaners at the top of the stairs to scatter in fright.
As the helicopter circled above the metal platform, Murph could see more Cleaners running to and fro like ants who’ve lost their How to Ant handbook. He could just make out the orangey shape of The Sponge peering down the shaft where Mr Tembo and Flora had disappeared. Suddenly a silvery jet erupted from the centre of the shaft like a waterspout. The Sponge flailed and fell over backwards into a puddle, which he immediately absorbed. The silver streak shot into the air and straight through the helicopter’s hatch, coalescing as it came into the shape of Angel carrying the inert form of the Blue Phantom.
‘Go, Nellie, go, go, go!’ screamed Angel. ‘Before they get organised enough to chase us! Go!’
Nodding silently, Nellie pushed forward on the control stick, and the black helicopter streaked low above the white-horsed wave-tops towards the slowly-spinning wind turbines on the horizon.
7
Screen Time
‘First-aider coming through!’ said Billy, battling the rocking of the helicopter to kneel beside Flora. Carefully lifting the silvery-blue helmet from her head, he laid a hand on her neck and dipped his cheek to feel for breath. ‘She’s breathing,’ he told the others. ‘But she’s soaked and freezing. We need to get her warm. We need coats, blankets, anything you can find!’
Within twenty seconds Flora was cocooned beneath a pile of jumpers and coats, Mary’s yellow mackintosh tucked up snugly beneath her chin. She gave a weak groan and tried to sit up, but immediately cried out in pain. ‘My leg!’
Billy flipped back the jumpers and gently felt Flora’s left leg, making her cry out again. ‘Yep, that’s what we in the first-aiding business call “a broken leg”,’ he confirmed. ‘Keep as still as you can, Flora. We’ll get you some help as soon as we get to … wherever it is we’re going.’
‘They’ll be able to help her,’ confirmed Angel. ‘But there’s a way to go yet.’ She jumped to her feet. ‘Hilda, can you give me a hand?’
‘Aye aye!’ said Hilda smartly.
‘After that, you do plan on explaining what’s going on, right?’ said Murph, who had taken the co-pilot’s chair next to Nellie and was watching the greenish waves slip by beneath them.
‘Promise,’ said Angel, with a brief smile and a worried look at her mum. ‘Right, Hilda,’ she said, unclipping a small box from her belt and tossing it over. ‘Open that and turn it on. We need to throw them off the scent.’ And with that, Angel knelt down by a large panel of equipment at the back of the helicopter and started unscrewing a metal panel with a screwdriver she’d also produced from her belt.
‘Wish I had a utility belt,’ said Hilda morosely, opening the box. ‘Hey! You’ve got a drone!’ Inside, neatly folded, was a small quadcopter. Hilda pulled it out and snapped the rotor arms into position.
‘Mmf,’ confirmed Angel, now holding the screwdriver in her mouth as she pulled the panel away from the wall. Inside was a nest of tangled wiring and circuit boards. She rummaged amongst these for a few moments, finally pulling out a small metal cylinder ringed with winking green lights. She gave a satisfied grunt before straightening up and holding out a hand to Hilda, who passed her the tiny drone. ‘Locator unit,’ explained Angel, busily using her screwdriver to attach the flashing cylinder to the base of the drone. ‘They’ll use it to track the chopper. Only … it’ll be leading them in totally the wrong direction!’
She flicked a switch and the drone buzzed into life. Opening a small hatch, she threw it out into the slipstream. Hilda ran to join her, just in time to see the tiny copter zoom off in a different direction. The blinking green lights were soon lost to view.
‘Right,’ said Angel, coming up to join Nellie in the cockpit. ‘Let’s get you lot back to base.’
*
Murph felt his stomach tighten as he caught sight of their town through the helicopter’s windscreen. He could trace the outline of the canal snaking its way through the outskirts, and squinted, trying to make out the boring, boxy house he’d moved to with his mum and brother a year and a half ago.
‘Throttle back, Nellie,’ instructed Angel. ‘We need to land on the outskirts. There!’ She was pointing at a patch of woodland in the middle of some fields. She glanced at her watch. ‘Land there, we should be right on time.’
Murph briefly wondered what she meant, but his brain was so full of questions there wasn’t much spare attention for that one.
Nellie eased the chopper down in a clearing. Leaves blew in a whirlwind as they set down, and the skinny trees bent and shook in the downdraught, but the Alliance helicopter made hardly any sound.
‘Get the stretcher,’ Angel ordered Billy. A folded stretcher was clipped to the wall, and Hilda helped Billy unroll it and get Flora comfortable. Nervously they trooped in a line down the ramp and into the trees.
When Angel, in the lead, reached the edge of the wood, she waved for them to stop. Murph could see they had come to the edge of a field, with a scrubby path leading diagonally across it towards the outskirts of the town. He glanced back at Flora lying on the stretcher, with Billy and Nellie grasping the handles. Her face looked drawn with pain, but she caught his eye and smiled. ‘You look a bit overwhelmed, Murph dear.’
‘I am quite highly whelmed, yes,’ Murph admitted.
‘You’ll get all the answers you need very soon,’ Flora promised him. ‘For now, though, listen to Angel. She’ll get us home safe.’
‘Just a few more minutes,’ said Angel, checking her watch once again, ‘and we’ll be ready. I know you have a lot of questions.’
‘I have, literally, eight thousand and fifteen questions,’ confirmed Billy. ‘Which one do you wanna start with? How about “Why did everyone suddenly start working for Nicholas Knox?”’
‘Be patient,’ Angel silenced him. ‘We’re not out of the woods quite yet.’
‘In a very real sense,’ muttered Hilda, looking up at the branches overhead.
‘In a very metaphorical sense,’ corrected Angel. ‘As in, as soon as they realise they can’t track that chopper, all merry heck is going to break loose. We’ve got to get you to headquarters before that happens. And the leaders will want to know you’re safe.’
‘OK – you’ve just added another two questions right there,’ Billy complained. ‘Bringing the grand total to eight thousand and seventeen. Headquarters of what? Which leaders?’
Murph pricked up his ears – his brain was full of the same questions, all clamouring for answers like over-sugared toddlers.
‘There’s just one thing you need to know for now,’ Angel told the
m. ‘We’re about to head through town. We’ve timed it perfectly, so we shouldn’t be bothered – but there’s one rule you cannot break. Do not, under any circumstances, look at any screens. No phones, no computers, no televisions. Got it?’
‘What about tablets?’ asked Billy, unable to stop himself immediately giving voice to Question 8,018.
‘NO SCREENS,’ said Angel sharply. ‘None. Got it?’
‘No screens,’ confirmed Murph. Angel wasn’t normally this serious. Clearly the danger was very real.
Angel looked down at her wrist. ‘Ten seconds till six o’clock,’ she muttered to herself, before saying to the others, ‘OK – let’s go. Fol low me, calmly. Don’t run. And don’t look to either side if you can help it. If you see a screen of any kind, shut your eyes immediately.’
She strode out across the field and Murph followed, keeping his eyes fixed on the chunky backpack fixed to the back of her silvery armour. Angel’s costume was obviously modelled on her mum’s, and he had a sudden pricking at the back of his eyes as he imagined what it must have been like for his friend Flora to have her long-lost daughter beside her on their mission today. He looked over his shoulder to see that the Blue Phantom had closed her eyes in pain as Nellie and Billy carried her across the field – but then he remembered Angel’s instructions and snapped his eyes to the front.
They picked their way down a narrow, muddy alleyway between high fences, and turned right, down a street lined with houses. Although it was a warm spring evening, the road was deserted. In every front window Murph could see a flickering, blueish light. Every single house had its TV turned on, he realised. The light washed out into the street, giving a strange glow. It felt rather peculiar, almost as if the winking light were tugging at the edges of his eyes, willing him to look at it more closely. He wondered what programme could possibly be so exciting that everybody in the street was watching. A big football match, maybe?
‘What are they all watching?’ he murmured, half to himself, glancing unthinkingly to one side.
