by Maz Evans
A gigantic bellow went up from the other side of the island.
‘Ooooh – that’s my cue. Back in a jiffy.’
Virgo watched Hypnos hurtle across the sky. A ghost she could handle. What she had just witnessed – that was going to haunt her for much, much longer.
14. Beware Mypu
‘Polyphemus!’ roared the new Cyclops. ‘It’s me, Argos. Came as soon as I could. I’ve called for backup too. Where are you?’
‘I’m in here!’ yelled Polyphemus, banging on the panic-room door.
The Cyclops followed the sound of the hammering until he came to the steel doors. He was centimetres from Elliot’s hiding place. And he smelt really bad.
‘What are you doing in there, you fool?’ asked Argos.
‘I’m stuck!’ shrieked Polyphemus.
‘How did you manage that?’
‘It wasn’t me,’ said Polyphemus. ‘It was Mypu.’
‘You what?’ said Argos, answering the doorbell with a thud on a nearby button. Elliot saw the light pierce the cave once again. The door was open. Perhaps he could just . . .
Two more gigantic Cyclopes lumbered into the cavern. Perhaps not.
‘Brontos, Steropes,’ said Argos. ‘He’s finally cracked. Listen to this . . . Say that again, mate. What’s the problem?’
‘Mypu!’ yelled Polyphemus.
‘What?’ said Steropes. ‘Your what?’
‘Mypu!’ screamed Polyphemus. ‘It’s all Mypu’s fault. Mypu has trapped me!’
The three Cyclopes looked at each other in awkward bewilderment.
‘Listen, mate,’ said Argos. ‘What you do on the lav is your business, don’t go involving us . . .’
‘No – you don’t understand!’ cried Polyphemus. ‘You need to search everywhere! You need to sniff him out! You need to find Mypu!’
‘That’s disgusting!’ scoffed Brontos. ‘We’re not going anywhere near your poo!’
‘No, no, no!’ shouted Polyphemus. ‘Listen to me. Look outside. Look everywhere.’
‘Like where?’ puzzled Argos.
‘I dunno!’ squealed Polyphemus. ‘Could be anywhere. Maybe . . . maybe Mypu is in your cave?’
The Cyclopes gagged.
‘It had better not be, you dirty doughnut!’ thundered Steropes. ‘All those vegetable smoothies have gone to your nut, mate. You’ve finally lost it – c’mon boys.’
Elliot finally let out his breath. They were leaving.
‘Wait a minute,’ said Argos, holding the other two Cyclopes back. ‘Can you smell that?’
‘Smell what?’ said Brontos, sniffing the air. ‘Not his poo . . .’
‘No. That,’ said Argos. ‘Smells just like . . .’
‘Mortal flesh,’ grinned Steropes. ‘Oh, boys. I think dinner has been delivered.’
Elliot looked for any possible escape route as the Cyclopes sniffed around. It was no use. He was completely trapped. He closed his eyes and wished for two things: firstly that the Cyclopes didn’t find him, and secondly that he’d had a shower at least once that week.
But he was out of luck on both.
‘Found it!’ cried Argos, throwing aside the sofa with a massive arm and grabbing Elliot with a giant hand. ‘Dinner is served.’
‘Don’t come crying to me with your clogged colon,’ sang Polyphemus from inside the panic room.
Elliot struggled against the iron fist imprisoning him, but it held fast.
‘Let me take the first bite,’ said Steropes. ‘I let you have that backpacker last summer. You remember? The one who was trying to “find himself”.’
‘He found himself all right,’ laughed Argos. ‘Inside my belly! OK. But don’t leave me the rump. It’s so chewy . . .’
‘I’m having him first,’ slavered Brontos, grabbing Elliot. ‘I’ll start with the legs. I love a mortal drumstick.’
‘Well, hurry up – I’m starving,’ grumbled Argos.
‘Are you ready?’ said Brontos, holding Elliot up to his uneven yellow teeth.
Elliot gulped. He was going to end his days in a Cyclops’s colon. What a lame way to die.
‘Then let’s get outta here!’ screamed Brontos, two feathered wings sprouting from the side of his head.
‘Hypnos!’ cried Elliot. He’d never been so pleased to see a Daemon in his life.
‘I got my eye on you!’ said Hypnos, blasting past Argos and Steropes and whizzing Elliot back towards the cave’s entrance.
‘Oi!’ said Argos, lumbering after him. ‘Bring us back our dinner!’
‘Come back here!’ said Steropes, charging behind his friend. ‘I’m starving!’
‘Let’s go!’ cried Elliot.
Elliot felt a blast of acceleration as Hypnos zoomed out of the open cave mouth into the evening air.
‘Look out!’ yelled the Daemon, charging straight into Zeus struggling with armfuls of thunderbolts.
‘What the devil—?’ said Zeus.
‘Quick!’ said Hypnos. ‘Blast them, big boy!’
The second the Cyclopes emerged from the cave, Zeus took aim and launched a thunderbolt at Argos. But when the thunderbolt left his hand, there was no flash, no lightning – it just bounced off the Cyclops like a ping-pong ball.
‘Wh-what the . . .’ Zeus stuttered. ‘They’re not working. I don’t understand . . .’
‘Let’s get out of here!’ cried Elliot.
With the earth-shuddering footsteps of the Cyclopes behind them, Hypnos flew towards the azure coastline, struggling to bear the weight of his two passengers.
‘When we get home, I’m giving that bally Don’tcAIR an OdysseyAdvisor review they’ll never forget,’ Zeus blustered, looking behind to see the Cyclopes gaining on them with each thundering step.
‘It’s no good – you’re too heavy,’ puffed Hypnos, dropping Elliot and Zeus to the ground. ‘I can’t fly with more than one person. What now?’
‘We fight them,’ said Zeus, putting up his fists. ‘And, failing that, we run very fast.’
‘I’ve got a better idea,’ said Elliot.
He put his hand in his pocket and gripped his watch. The stones glowed in his palm and their magic surged through his body. He yanked the watch out of his pocket and held it above his head.
‘Elliot – no!’ cried Zeus. The ruby cast its ethereal red light into the darkening sky. He was too late. With the authority of three stones empowering every atom of his being, Elliot roared his command at the Water Stone.
‘RAIN!’
At once, the clear evening sky darkened with black clouds, chasing every last chink of light from the heavens. A low rumble sounded overhead as the Water Stone obeyed its new master. Elliot felt the first drops start to run down his face, but they did nothing to cool the raging fire that the Chaos Stones always awoke within him.
‘Wh-what is this?’ yelled Argos, coming to a grinding halt.
‘It . . . it . . . it’s . . . WET STUFF!’ whimpered Steropes, covering his head with his arms. ‘Aaaaaaaaargh!’
The two massive Cyclopes jumped about on the spot, trying to avoid getting their feet wet with their hands, then whipping their hands back to their heads to keep those dry. Elliot laughed and laughed as he watched them dance around, terrified of the water cascading from the sky. He looked out to sea and wondered how they’d feel about a tsunami. He raised the Water Stone higher . . .
‘Elliot – ENOUGH!’ roared Zeus. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
Elliot dropped his arm to his side and the rain immediately stopped. He startled slightly as his mind and body cooled. He’d nearly gone too far. Again.
‘There she is!’ cried Hypnos, pointing towards Virgo in the distance.
They continued to pelt towards the seashore, where Virgo was waiting for them.
‘Quick,’ panted Elliot. ‘How do we get off the island?’
‘On my raft,’ said Virgo proudly.
‘Well, where is it?!’
Virgo held up two sticks tied together with seaweed.
‘Under construction,’ she said, defensively.
‘No – absolutely no travel by water!’ Zeus shouted. ‘There has to be another way . . .’
‘Elliot,’ said Hypnos, pointing towards a shadow looming over the shore. ‘Look!’
An enormous T-shape appeared at the crest of the hill. The ground started to shake once more as Argos, holding a struggling Steropes over his head, lurched forward.
‘New invention,’ he called. ‘Keeps off the wet stuff. I’m calling it . . . Bumbrella!’
And with that, he hurled his companion towards the group.
‘There isn’t another way,’ Elliot shouted at Zeus. ‘Everyone – SWIM!’
‘No!’ roared Zeus. ‘We mustn’t go in the—’
The rest of his objection was lost as Elliot shoved the King of the Gods into the sea before a Cyclops could land on his head.
‘Nice one,’ said Hypnos. ‘Now it gets interesting.’
But Elliot had no breath to answer him, swimming his fastest front crawl out to sea, until the roars of the Cyclopes were washed away by the waves.
‘Is everyone OK?’ he yelled, pausing to tread water.
‘Pleurgh!’ spat Virgo, emerging centimetres from his face.
‘We need to find land – quickly,’ said Zeus, looking anxiously at the darkening waters. ‘We mustn’t stay in the sea.’
‘Why?’ said Virgo. ‘Apart from the fact that it’s wet and cold and full of seasoning, I fail to see the—’ A sudden current dragged her around in a circle. ‘Why am I—’
The sea around them began to swirl, as if someone were stirring it with a giant teaspoon.
‘What’s happening?’ Virgo yelled.
‘Hold on,’ shouted Elliot, pulling the watch out of his pocket. ‘I’ll use the—’
But no sooner had the words left his lips than a fist of sea-spray fingers grabbed the Chaos Stones from his hand.
‘Hey!’ he shouted. ‘Someone help me! I’m being sucked under!’
‘So am—’ was Virgo’s last remark before the sea swallowed her.
‘Oh, crumbs,’ groaned Zeus, his silver head sinking beneath the surface.
‘Trust me,’ shouted Hypnos, fluttering overhead. ‘It’s all going perfectly to plan.’
But Elliot’s plan didn’t involve drowning. He used every shred of his strength to fight the water, frantically paddling his arms and legs against the powerful current. But it was no use. He was no match for the might of the sea.
As Hypnos made an elegant dive beneath the surface, the sea pulled and pulled at Elliot’s feet – until, with one gigantic suck, he was dragged deep beneath the waves.
15. Parental Controls
Josie Hooper was so very, very tired. For months now, her body had been battling her mind – and it didn’t feel like either was winning the war.
Her mind had become like a tangled necklace. On days when she felt calm, she could work steadily through the knots. It took time and patience, but eventually she could unpick the knots and link the chain smoothly together.
But on other days, panic and frustration claimed her mind. The knots stuck to one another until they were one big jumble and the necklace was good for nothing. Her body no longer obeyed her mind and her mind no longer gave clear commands. With each day that passed, she longed to be free from both.
Elliot had gone. She couldn’t remember where and she didn’t know why – but she needed him safe at Home Farm with her. That was all she had ever needed. That, and her husband home again.
Or at least so she had thought.
Josie wasn’t sure whether it was time or her mind that had changed Dave Hooper. He wasn’t the man she remembered and he wasn’t the man she had loved. At night, when her mind was at its most tangled, she was haunted by visions of him hounding her, getting angry when she couldn’t answer the questions he screamed. But by day he seemed to be a different man. Which one was real? Josie had learnt to trust neither her mind nor her memories. But she didn’t trust Dave either.
A voice woke her from her dozing. It was a different voice, but not new. She had heard this woman before. Josie looked for the sisters who always took such good care of her. But there was only Dave.
‘Thank you so much for inviting me over again, Mr Hooper.’
‘Please, do come through, Ms Givings,’ said Dave. ‘I’m sorry our last meeting was so dramatic.’
Ms Givings? Josie knew that name. Who was she?
‘I quite understand, Mr Hooper,’ the young woman said, giving Josie a sympathetic smile as she passed her chair. ‘It must be a very confusing time for you all.’
‘It is,’ sighed Dave with a saintly look. Josie wished she could give his face a hard slap with a wet fish. ‘But we try to muddle through . . .’
‘Of course,’ said Ms Givings with a compassionate nod.
‘I’m just trying to do my best,’ said Dave. ‘It’s so tough . . .’
‘It really must be,’ she agreed. ‘And all anyone wants from this situation is what’s best for everyone. You, Mrs Hooper and, of course, young Elliot.’
Dave pursed his lips and nodded. Everyone had told Josie not to marry him, that he was no good and would never change. How Josie wished she’d listened.
‘That’s what I want too,’ he said quietly. Josie just hoped that Ms Givings wasn’t buying this complete pile of steaming . . .
‘First things first – I’m struggling to get in contact with your parole officer,’ said Ms Givings. ‘Could you give me their details, please?’
‘Of course,’ Dave replied with a smile. ‘If you leave me an email address, I’ll get them straight over to you.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, with a pause that invited further conversation. Dave made her wait for it.
‘So, the reason I called you over was to discuss my Elliot,’ said Dave. ‘He’s very worried about what the future holds. For all of us.’
Ms Givings took a deep breath. That’s never good, Josie thought. Happy news never needs oxygen. It breathes on its own.
‘I often find it’s best in these situations to be completely open,’ Ms Givings continued. ‘This is no reflection on you or Elliot – clearly you are both doing your very best to look after Mrs Hooper.’
‘That’s all we can do,’ whispered Dave weakly. Josie commanded her legs to give him a swift kick. They didn’t listen.
‘And I must say, I am amazed at how Elliot has carried this burden alone while you were . . . away,’ said Ms Givings. ‘He is a remarkable young man.’
‘He’s quite something,’ nodded Dave.
‘But . . .’ Ms Givings faltered. ‘You are in a huge period of transition yourself. Adjusting to life outside prison takes time. There’s no shame in finding it hard. Even without the additional . . . issues that you have here at home.’
‘I know,’ said Dave. Josie watched him muster up a tear from somewhere in his dark soul.
‘So – we were wondering if it might all be a little too much,’ said Ms Givings.
Dave pursed his lips and hung his head.
‘I agree,’ he said eventually. ‘That’s why I wanted to meet today. Things can’t carry on as they are.’
Josie tried to tell her body to toss this man out of their lives, for her lips to let out the scream inside her soul. She willed every atom of her being to do something, to do anything, to stop this deceitful charade.
‘Obviously, there is a huge amount to discuss,’ Ms Givings said slowly, ‘but we feel that Josie might benefit from some more . . . specialized care. Somewhere that has experience of dealing with her condition. Somewhere she can be safe and well looked after.’
Dave looked at Josie mournfully.
Don’t you do it, David Hooper, Josie thought. Don’t you dare . . .
She awaited his words, like a convict awaiting a sentence.
‘You’re right,’ he said, allowing a fake tear to roll down his fake face. ‘I wish you weren’t . . . but you’re right. I’ve known it since I came
home. I can’t take care of her. It’s just too much.’
Josie watched, empty inside, as this devil cried his false tears. If only her body were her own. She would have given him something to cry about.
But she could do nothing. All she could do was sit and watch as this monster destroyed everything Elly had worked so hard to protect. Josie Hooper had never thought she was capable of the hatred she felt at that moment.
‘We will refer you to a specialist team who can make all the necessary arrangements,’ said Ms Givings. ‘And you will be able to visit her whenever you like.’
And with a silent nod, Dave Hooper sentenced Josie to her imprisonment.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘When were you thinking?’
‘We feel it’s better not to delay these things. Where is Elliot today, by the way?’
‘He’s visiting my aunt,’ Dave lied. Josie knew he didn’t have an aunt. He didn’t have a heart.
‘Are you expecting him back soon?’
‘Anytime now,’ said Dave. ‘You really think this is for the best?’
‘We do. Josie has very specific needs at the moment. Perhaps you all just need a bit of space to get the support you deserve?’
Josie tried to move again, if only this one time. But all that came out was a low moan.
‘Are you OK, Mrs Hooper?’ said Ms Givings. At least she had the decency to look genuinely concerned. ‘Perhaps we should have this conversation elsewhere . . .’
‘She’s fine,’ said Dave. ‘She gets hungry around this time – I’ll sort her out in a minute.’
Josie raged within. Sort her out? She was his wife, not the laundry.
‘Besides, you’re right,’ he said. ‘Do what you think is right. You know best.’
Ms Givings nodded. ‘If you could just send me those parole officer details as soon as possible. And let’s meet again soon. There’s still a lot to discuss. But I think that’s enough for today.’
She rose to leave.
‘Goodbye, Mrs Hooper.’ She looked at Josie with genuine apology in her eyes. Josie still hated her.
But not as much as she hated him.
She sent up a silent prayer. Wherever Elliot was, whoever he was with, he needed to stay there.
Because Home Farm was no longer safe. Not for either of them.
