Will went still for a moment. “I remember.” He started to scribble.
“So,” Grady asked. “What does it say?”
“Hang on, twenty letters could make up a grid of two by ten or four by five.” He smiled. “All right, it’s five by four.” Will showed us the paper again.
“Fully rotate clockwise!” I laughed. “That wasn’t so hard.”
“You have to know it’s a Caesar Cipher,” Grady glared. “It’s not that easy.”
“When we get to the checkpoint, we can quickly grab the next coordinates and go.” I nodded. “How’s Carmen doing, Lizzie?”
“She’s asleep,” Lizzie whispered. “We’ve got another hour or so before it’s time to leave. Why don’t we try to get some rest, too?”
“You guys should,” I said. “Will and I can keep watch.”
“Thanks, Ben.” Grady lay with his back against the far wall, clutching his pick under his chin. His eyes darted around the room. “You know,” he said with a yawn, “the moon landings were faked by the American government because Russia was going to get there first.” He closed his eyes.
As Grady’s breathing turned into whistling snores, I kept my gaze towards the hill. “I feel like a rabbit in a burrow,” I whispered, “waiting to sneak past the foxes.”
“I’d be more worried about dogs coming to dig us out,” Will said.
“What do you mean?” I kept my voice low.
“An’s team – they said they’d be back.”
I exhaled shakily. “They’d be here by now if they were coming.”
“Maybe,” Will said quietly. “Or maybe they’re waiting for us to fall asleep.”
As the sun sank beneath the hills, the feeling of being watched grew stronger. “Maybe we shouldn’t wake them,” I breathed. “I don’t think we’ll find a more defensible position.”
Will shrugged. “We stay here and we’ll have to fight eventually – either An comes back or someone else will want the shelter. We go outside and there’s a chance we’ll sneak past everyone.”
“But if we’re caught in the open…”
Will spread his hands. “I think we’re better off risking the walk.”
“You would.” I glared at him.
“I won’t ask what that means,” Will said softly.
“He has friends,” Mum yelled. “He’s normal.”
“Ben has friends.” Dad’s freckles had vanished in a surge of red. “Will’s a hanger-on.”
“That’s not true.” Mum’s voice went dangerously quiet. “Will’s charming. Everyone likes him.”
“Ben said everyone’s afraid of him.”
“Maybe Ben’s the hanger-on, have you thought of that? Will’s the good-looking one and he’s intelligent…”
I looked towards the landing at the top of the stairs. Will was framed in the entrance to his room, scraping the top of a match with his thumbnail. I sat behind the phone table, peering through the gap in the kitchen door. Dad’s bags were clumped in the hallway.
“The doctor gave me this printout.” Dad tried to hand it to Mum, but she hurled it back at him.
“You went to the doctor without me?” Mum screamed. “You traitor! We don’t need this rubbish. You’re the one causing all the problems. You think you can just leave us?”
“I can’t stay, not if you won’t—”
“You’re making me choose between you and my son. There isn’t even a choice.”
“All I’m asking is that you let us get help. Will could have burned the house down last night.” Dad’s fists clenched.
“I’m not having some pop psychologist poking around in my son’s head.” She spat the words. “Making up lies about him. What if they take him away? I can look after him.”
“You have two sons, Carrie.”
“Torben’s fine. He doesn’t need me the way Will does.” Mum’s shoulders formed stubborn lines. She’d made her decision. I looked between Dad and Will. Will’s eyes met mine, then he faded back into his room and the door clicked closed.
“Ben should come with me,” Dad said. My eyes widened and my heart thudded.
“Are you mad?” Mum hissed. I froze. “Will needs Ben. If you’re going—”
“You admit it, then.” Dad sounded triumphant. “You admit that without Ben around, Will’s not normal.”
“He calms him down.” Mum folded her arms. “You’ve wanted to leave for ages, so go. But don’t think you’re taking Ben with you. We need him.”
“Yeah?” Dad sighed. “Well, I love him.”
“Get out!” Mum screamed. “Get out, get out, get—”
Dad strode miserably into the hallway and picked up his bags. He hesitated when he saw me. “I’m sorry you heard all that, Ben.”
“Will heard it, too.”
“You always think of him first.” Dad stood, bags dangling. “You could come with me.”
I swallowed. “I want to.” My voice was hoarse. “I can’t though, can I?”
“You can.” Dad kneeled beside me. “This isn’t your responsibility.”
“No,” I said, suddenly angry. “It’s yours.”
Once Dad had closed the front door, I made my way into the kitchen. The printed paper was crumpled on the floor. A heading was written in sober black: Your Child’s Behaviour: Help and Advice. I smoothed it out and went to slide it in the ‘important-papers’ drawer.
“Put that in the bin,” Mum snapped.
I didn’t take my eyes from the window I was watching. “Will … you remember when Dad left?”
“Of course.” Will’s voice was flat.
“You know why he left?”
Will looked at me and then peered through his binoculars. “There were a number of factors. It wasn’t just one thing.” I said nothing. Will put down his glasses. “You think he left because of me.” Again, there was no tone.
“That’s not what I meant.” I rubbed my eyes. “Forget it, I don’t know why I brought it up.”
“Because you’re afraid.” Will checked outside, then turned back to me. “You’re worried we might not make it off the island.”
“We are going to make it off the island.”
Will blinked slowly. “I can read you like a book and I know you’ve had the same thought as me. If the third checkpoint led a team to take Carmen’s hand … what will the last checkpoint involve? Even if the rest of the checkpoints contain normal stuff – and I don’t think they do – there’s a team out there who really don’t want us speaking to the police. We’ll still be in danger.”
“Do you think we can make it?” My binoculars dangled from numb fingers.
Will nodded. “No matter what, you’ll get us out of here. It’s what you do.”
“What I do?”
“You think I haven’t noticed – you’ve always looked after me. You won’t let anything happen.”
Perhaps for the first time, I faced the facts head-on. “I have to bring you home. If I don’t, Mum will kill herself.”
Will snorted.
“Will!”
He looked at me strangely. “You really don’t see through her, do you?”
“She tried it before…”
Will tilted his head. “You found her in the bath. She timed it very well.”
“She what?”
“I think she originally planned to have Dad find her – he was coming to pick us up for the weekend – but then she decided it would hurt him more if it was you.”
“She wouldn’t do that.”
Will shrugged. “If you say so.”
“Dad’s right, there’s something wrong in your head.”
Will said nothing.
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
“Should it?” Will lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me. Maybe when I was little I was more … volatile. But now, I’m in control.” He looked out of the doorway again. “Ben, don’t worry. It achieves nothing. You’re strong and I’m … me. Between us, we’ll get everyo
ne home.”
Chapter Fourteen
As the bats started to circle the house, Lizzie opened her eyes. “Is it time?” She stretched, then caught her breath as she remembered that Carmen was sleeping against her.
Carmen was jolted awake by Lizzie’s movement and her face immediately wrinkled, aged by pain.
“You need Tramadol.” Lizzie found the pills in the pocket of Carmen’s pack, handed her two and shoved the rest in her khakis.
Before I picked up my binoculars, I kicked Grady’s foot. He lurched awake with a cry. “Freemasons!” he squawked. “Illuminati…” He stuck the pick out in front of him and blinked furiously.
“It’s OK, Grady. It’s time to leave.” I stood and dug my fists into the base of my spine. My back cracked. “Are you sure about going for the checkpoints, Carmen?” I held out a hand to help her up. She took it and Lizzie stabilized her as she stood.
“We can always go back to the jetty,” Lizzie said gently.
Carmen looked at us through bleary eyes. “No. I want to get to the end. Do you want me to take my own pack?”
I shook my head as Lizzie rolled their sleeping bags away. “I can manage.”
Will picked up his rucksack and Lizzie lifted her spear.
“I don’t have a weapon,” Carmen said suddenly.
“What do you want, Car?” Will asked.
She turned to him. “A blade.”
Will nodded. “I’ve got your knife.” He found it in his bag and handed it over.
Carmen closed a shaking hand around the red plastic body. “You … found it?”
“Behind the cairn, on the hill.” Will looked into her eyes. “You hurt him with it. Good for you.”
Carmen unfolded the blade and held the knife in front of her.
“We’d better go before it gets dark.” Will opened the door and I took one more look outside.
“Which way?” Grady asked.
Will pointed. “North-east along the river, until we reach the sea.”
Midges formed choking clouds along the garden path. We stepped out into them.
We walked along the river, the banks sloping higher above us with every step.
“I don’t like this,” I said.
Lizzie raised her eyebrows. “What’s the matter? The bank’s hiding us.”
“Yes,” I said, “but I can’t see if anyone’s approaching from the west.”
Lizzie reached out and squeezed my hand, then let it go.
Will had taken the lead once more, Grady was marching at the rear and the girls and I were in the middle – me with two rucksacks and a limp, Lizzie still hobbling and leaning on her spear. Carmen staggered like a zombie, her mutilated arm tucked under her jacket, the other jabbing at invisible enemies.
“Is Carmen OK?” I whispered.
Lizzie shook her head.
I said nothing more as we scuttled along the river. The moon looked like a smudged fingerprint against the sky. Soon it was difficult to see Will out in front.
The longer we hiked, the louder the sea became, until it was no longer a background hush but the boom of surf against rock. Ahead I could just about make out individual seabirds as flashes of white swooping towards the cliffs.
The banks loomed on either side of us until I could hardly breathe with the fear that one of the other teams would drop rocks on us, before leaping down to finish us off.
Then the river opened out to the sea.
I caught my breath as the walls came to an end. Above us natural ramparts were completely covered in roosting birds; white streaks calcified the rock and bush-like nests protruded from every cranny. The noise was incredible: cawing and screeching, crying and jabbering – an unruly audience awaiting a show.
We stood on the scrubby patch of land and stared.
“It’s so loud!” Lizzie yelled.
Will was already looking for a way across the tributary. “We need to be on the other side of the river mouth,” he shouted.
I couldn’t take my eyes from the water. There was an inky splodge just outside the bay – a tiny island off-shore.
Grady caught my shoulder. “Don’t even think about it, Ben. Remember the currents? You’d be dragged out to sea.”
I shivered. “Probably not worth the risk.”
“Not yet,” Will said. “No.”
The river mouth was shallow enough to splash across and a quick search revealed a path up the side of the cliff in the direction we needed.
Carmen’s breath was coming in harsh rasps now and she was mobile only with Grady’s support.
“We could rest here,” Grady panted when we reached the clifftop.
Lizzie shook her head. “Not here, we’re outlined against the horizon. Let’s get to the checkpoint first.”
“How much further?” Grady asked.
Will looked at the map. “We’re just under halfway.”
Grady groaned, Carmen said nothing and we trekked on as the sun began to burn the sea. It wouldn’t be long before night-vision glasses would easily pick us up.
Will stopped abruptly at a fork in the path. “I think this is where we head away from the cliff…”
“You’re not sure?” I frowned. The two rucksacks I was wearing were compressing my spine; I just wanted to get to the checkpoint.
“Not a hundred per cent – there could be another fork further along. This feels a bit premature.”
“Then we keep walking.” I started forwards.
“If this is the fork, we’ll have to double back,” Grady moaned. He didn’t move. “Why aren’t you sure? Weren’t you reading the map?”
“It’s dark, Grady,” Will snapped.
“Well, why aren’t you using your torch?” Grady adjusted Carmen’s arm where it lay over his shoulder.
“Because it would signal where we are,” I growled.
Lizzie held up her hand. “Maybe we’ve hiked further than you think, Will? Are there any landmarks that would tell us if this is the way we need to go?”
Will rolled his eyes. “Yes, obviously. If we are in the right place, we can mark a direct line east to west, between the second checkpoint, us and the bottom of the holm in the bay.” He folded his arms. “Just turn your head to see the holm on one side and the cairn on the other.”
I sighed. “You could just say it’s too dark.”
Will gestured with his binoculars. “I can just about make out the shape of the hill.”
“Then we can only guess,” Lizzie said.
“Let’s carry on along the path,” I decided. “If we haven’t found the checkpoint in the next fifteen minutes, we can come back and look for another fork.” I strode off, trusting that the others would follow.
The third checkpoint was a low, wide tree in a weather-beaten copse. The box was chained to the trunk and nestled in the roots.
Grady lowered Carmen to the ground.
“I’m going to keep watch,” Will said. He stood a little away from us, looking out at the shadowy moor.
I touched his shoulder. “Can you see anything?”
“No, but they’re there.”
“How do you—”
“At least one team will be watching the checkpoint. They’re going to assume we’ve got to solve the riddle, open the inner geocache box, freak out, do something about the finger… They’re expecting to have plenty of time to sneak up. We should be able to get away before they can reach us.”
Lizzie was already kneeling by the box, pressing her thumb on the lid. The screen lit with a pale electronic glow. “What was the answer?” Lizzie poised her fingers over the keyboard.
“Fully rotate clockwise,” Grady said, leaning over her shoulder.
Lizzie entered the phrase and immediately the locked-door game appeared.
“If it’s like last time and the clue is also the solution to the puzzle,” I murmured, “you’ll need to turn the box.”
We all heard the click as it opened.
The inner box that fell out was bigger than the fi
rst one had been: a finger-sized coffin. Lizzie ignored it; instead she flicked on her torch and shone it carefully into the lid.
“Oh no,” she whispered.
“What?” It was my turn to lean awkwardly over her shoulder, Carmen’s bag jabbing against my thighs. I peered at the riddle.
“Write this down, Grady,” Lizzie said.
He grabbed the notebook she tossed at him.
“My fifth and my third make fourteen. There is one between my fourth and second. My first is one less than twice second, yet my second and third make ten. Altogether I make thirty.”
“It’s all right,” I said as Grady scribbled. “This is a maths problem. Will’s the maths king.”
Will didn’t take his eyes off the horizon. “Can we go now?”
Lizzie called out the coordinates engraved in the lid and Grady added them to the notebook, then picked up the geocache box. “Should I open it?”
“We know what’s in there.” I stepped backwards, picturing the severed finger, tendons tensed so that it curled like a hook. Splinters of bone showing. Blood. A bitten nail.
Carmen smashed it out of his hand. “Put it back,” she hissed.
Lizzie shoved her notebook into her jacket, returned the geocache box to the checkpoint box, slammed the lid, pressed her thumb against the screen and leaped to her feet. “Let’s go.”
As we stood, there was a yell from the moor; shadowy figures broke from cover and melted out of the darkness to appear on top of a hillock.
“They saw us shut the box,” Will called. “They think we have a geocache. They’re coming!”
“Run!” Lizzie yelled.
“Which way?” I looked around wildly. We hadn’t even identified the next checkpoint.
“That way.” Grady picked a direction at random and dashed into the darkness, head down, pack bobbing. I turned to follow, but Lizzie grabbed me.
“You’re too slow. You can’t run with two rucksacks. Leave one of them.” She tugged at Carmen’s, but I resisted.
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