Revenge (12 page)

‘Where have you hidden it? Tell me! The lighthouse?' I hissed, lunging at him. Grabbing his collar, the panic inside me escalated to unimaginable heights. ‘Tell me!'

Vulkan Sligo's one good eye rolled back into his head.

Rallying the last of his strength, he spat in our faces. ‘You fools! You'll never find it. Because … because …'

I grabbed him round the throat.

Sligo choked out the last four words.

‘There—is—no—antidote!'

Those terrible words smashed into my brain like sledgehammers. Disbelief took my breath away. I clutched at my chest.

Cal was barely breathing and now I couldn't either. Everything was fading. Sound, light, feeling … the sight of Sligo's lifeless body … and Cal. There was no antidote. Our quest to find Cal had been for nothing. He was going to die anyway. Sligo had never intended him to live.

Ryan waved his hands in front of my face. ‘Come on, Boges, you're OK. Winter, get that
trapdoor
open—we need to get out of here.'

‘Cal will die,' I moaned. My best friend lay as still as a corpse. ‘The Toxillicide … you heard Sligo. There's no antidote.'

‘Boges, snap out of it. We need you here.' Ryan lifted me up and rested my head in between my knees.

I raised my head and saw Winter dabbing Cal's brow. She half-sobbed, half-whimpered, ‘Cal, it's me … Winter. We're here, Cal. We're all here for you.' She wasn't leaving his side.

My strength and focus began returning as a cool breeze grazed my face. The trapdoor in the other chamber was opening …

The thud of someone's feet landing in the room next door forced me up. I swung my head around to the open wall.

‘Who's there?' I shouted. Was it the
mysterious
accomplice?

A figure emerged.

‘You? Willoughby?
You're
behind this! It was
you
on the surveillance footage!' I stumbled to my feet and ran at him, fists swinging. ‘You're the one who's been helping Sligo!'

‘What?' he shouted, ducking away from me. ‘No! I haven't done anything but
help
you!'

‘Help!' yelled Ryan.

‘I've been following you,' Willoughby said. ‘I knew something was seriously wrong when Cal disappeared. I could see it in your faces.'

‘You were in the red car following us!' Ryan yelled.

‘Yes, that
was
me,' he admitted, ‘but I have nothing to do with Sligo's plans. I was only doing my job, at first, chasing a story, but then it was obvious something big was going down. I trusted my journalistic instincts.'

‘Stuff your journalistic instincts,' said Ryan. ‘Cal is dying!'

Winter sobbed on the ground, hugging Cal to her chest. She was whispering ‘sorry' over and over again, rocking back and forth.

‘Look,' said Willoughby. ‘I was here earlier. I heard Sligo say “Toxillicide”. I've made some calls. Help is on the way.'

‘Great, he means the press is coming,' said Ryan.

‘I know Cal's story inside and out,' the
journalist
continued, panting, ‘so when I knew what kind of trouble you were in, I ran, and called—' Willoughby paused. ‘Can you let go of me?'

I took a step back, realising I'd been holding him around his neck. ‘Called who?'

‘Griff Kirby.'

‘What does Griff have to do with this?'

‘He has connections to Dr Leporello—an expert in toxins. I begged Kirby to pull in a favour. At first he told me he was out of the family business, that he'd turned his back on crime and wasn't going to bribe anyone for
anything
. But as soon as I mentioned Cal's name, he changed his mind. Told me he'd do anything for Cal Ormond.'

Ryan looked at me questioningly. It
sounded
like the journalist was telling the truth.

‘He said he'd get it and bring it here,' Willoughby added. ‘He swore on his life. I don't know how long he'll be, but he's coming with the antidote.' He peered around at Cal and Winter, then put his hand on my shoulder. ‘Cal's going to be OK.'

‘Griff, he's over here,' I said, holding my hand out
for the antidote. ‘Quick! I don't know if he can hold on much longer!'

Griff had the syringe ready as he jumped down the last rungs of the rope ladder.

‘Here, Leporello says it should kick in within five minutes.'

Winter, Ryan and Ben watched on nervously.

I took the syringe and pierced Cal's arm. I squeezed the plunger slowly and the liquid disappeared into his bloodstream. We all held our breath.

Nothing happened.

Cal's face remained pale and lifeless.

Suddenly, Cal started coughing. White foam frothed from his lips.

Winter shrieked. ‘What's happening to him? We shouldn't have trusted Leporello! What if
he
made the Toxillicide for Sligo? What if we've just given Cal more poison!'

‘He wouldn't,' pleaded Griff. ‘I swear, he owes me. He would never doublecross me! There's no way!'

‘Well, what's wrong with him?' Winter cried, helping me hold Cal upright. Cal started shaking violently. ‘He's worse! Look at him … we should have called an ambulance!'

‘I—I—' Griff stuttered.

And then, just as suddenly, Cal was still again.

Slow, painstaking seconds ticked by … then Cal coughed and groggily lifted his head.

‘What did I miss?' he murmured.

DAY 20

11 days to go …

I woke up drenched in sweat from a nightmare. Again.

‘You OK?' Winter called out from the kitchen.

Dude, get a grip
, I told myself again, sitting up. Cal's OK. He's fine. You know where he is. He's right there, resting. Recovering.

I looked over at him, sleeping on a foldout bed just on the other side of the coffee table. He was so much better already. As soon as the
Toxillicide
antidote had set to work, we'd moved him to Winter's house. Jennifer Smith, the nurse who'd watched over Tom Ormond in the hospice before he died, had taken time off from her research job so she could help Cal through his recovery. She'd been awesome.

We'd left Griff and Ben behind in Coffin Bay.
They were going to make an anonymous call to the police, alerting them to Sligo's hideout. Lucky for Sligo, Leporello had made enough antidote for two doses. And no matter how evil Sligo was, neither Ben nor Griff were cold-blooded killers, so they'd injected him with the antidote, before fleeing the hilltop to allow the cops to mop up the mess.

We convinced Mrs O that Cal was coming home soon and that he just wanted one more week to get his head together. Unfortunately, Ryan and I still had to show our faces at the start of school term. But we'd spent every spare second at Winter's place, willing Cal to recover.

Winter approached and I shuffled over to make room for her on the couch. She sat down next to me, flicked on the lamp and gave me a glass of water. ‘Bad dreams, eh? Want to talk about it?'

I gulped down the water and recalled the images and words that had blazed through my sleep only moments ago. ‘It's stupid,' I said, with a laugh. ‘I feel like I'm Cal, dreaming about that white toy dog!'

‘Don't feel stupid. You can't control what comes to you in your dreams. Sometimes they're helpful,' she added thoughtfully.

‘It's a weird nightmare I've been having ever
since Cal went missing,' I said. ‘I don't understand why I'm still having this nightmare. Cal's back and Sligo's in a coma in a secure hospital ward. Ben Willoughby's promised not to go public with the story, so long as Cal gives him that exclusive interview he promised him, and the police know nothing about us being in Coffin Bay …'

Winter shrugged. ‘Give it time. We've only had Cal back for a few days.'

‘It's like everything that happened to Cal last year is morphing into one big messed-up
montage
in
my
memories. There's stuff in there that he's only told me about. There are people and places I know, but have never seen before.'

‘Like..?'

‘Like in one part, I'm in the Manresa Convent, where Cal tracked down his great-aunt Millicent, the nun. She's lying on this old bed, she's dying, I think. She's moaning, tossing and turning. She wants to tell me something but her mouth is stitched up. Gross, right?'

Winter cringed in agreement.

‘The corridor outside turns into a tunnel and I feel like an out-of-control train's bearing down on us. I can hear the brakes screeching and the whistle screaming. Any second it's going to slam into us … I look down at Millicent and her eyes have turned blood red … the falling angel from
the red wax seal is swirling round and round her pupils. The train's getting closer, I'm freaking out, Millicent's moaning, and then—'

‘What, what?' Winter asks. She's watching me like a kid at a campfire.

‘And then she speaks,' I said. ‘The stitches tear away from her mouth and she speaks.'

‘So what does she say?'

‘She says,
There's another one! Another one!
'

I watched as Winter shuddered, shaking my dream away. ‘Another one? Another what?'

‘You tell me.'

‘What are you two talking about?' Cal asked, lifting his head from the pillow.

‘Dude, hey, how you feeling?'

‘Not bad,' he said softly. ‘Still feeling a bit groggy, but that's about it.'

Winter hopped up from beside me and
wandered
over to Cal. ‘Can I get you anything? Water? Painkillers?'

‘No, thanks, I'm good. Just tired.'

‘And how about me, Winter?' I asked. ‘I've been wounded too, you know,' I teased, holding up my injured hand. ‘I know it's not like being mauled by a
lion
or anything, but still …'

‘Oh, very funny. You'll be all right,' said Winter. ‘And Cal, Repro and Griff are stopping by again in the morning remember?'

‘Yeah, yeah, that'll be good,' Cal said.

‘And Jen says you'll definitely be good to go home in about a week,' Winter added.

‘Sweet,' said Cal, before drifting back to sleep again.

‘Boges,' whispered Winter, after a moment.

‘Yeah?'

‘I'm so relieved Cal's back,' she said.

‘Me, too.'

‘But … I feel like something's not quite right.'

The darkness of my bad dream and the
disturbing
warning of
another one
was keeping me from settling, too. I knew I'd be feeling better if Sligo was dead. And if there wasn't the mystery of his accomplice still looming in the air … but I bit my tongue.

‘Like you said, Winter, it will just take time. I bet when Cal's back home next week and we see Mrs O and Gab happy again, things will pick up where they left off. Who knows, we might even get to have that movie night after all.'