The Gum Tree Gang and the Mystery at the Old Queenslander (12 page)

Krystal breathed a sign of relief. "Thanks
again Lord!" she whispered.

She knew she had to get out
of the garage, but how, she
wondered?

Slowly, she felt her way
around the bales of hay and
carefully along
the edge of the garage. Her eyes had
adjusted to the darkness and now she could see shadowy
shapes. She touched something cold! Instantly
she
withdrew her hand, then realised it
must be a doorknob.
She felt for the cold
thing again; sure enough, it was
shaped
like a knob.

Krystal held the knob firmly
and turned it. It seemed to
move, or was
she imagining things. Her hand felt
slippery with perspiration. She picked up the edge of
her
shirt under her jacket and placed it
over the knob.

With a creak the door opened
as Krystal turned the k
nob, pushing against
the door with all her strength. She took a deep breath and pushed
again. The door opened a
little more, and
soon there was just enough room for her
to
squeeze through. Carefully, Krystal wriggled through
the opening into the brisk night air. She
shivered
momentarily, and looked around. It
seemed almost bright
outside after being
inside the dark garage.

To Krystal's right there was
a cottage, with three dimly
lit windows.
She wondered where Matthew was, and
quietly
asked the Lord to look after him. In front of her
and towards her left were some sort of sheds
or
outhouses. Her ears picked up a sound
unfamiliar to
suburbia, the sound of a
horse neighing! The sound was
coming from
the sheds. They must be stables, she
thought. That meant they were probably in Burbank or
Mount Cotton.

A large patch of light
appeared on the verandah of the
cottage. A
door was opened, and Morrie's shape could be
clearly seen.

Krystal quickly moved across
to the shadows of the
stables.

Morrie came hobbling along, a light bobbing
in his hand.

Krystal moved inside the
door of one of the stables as
he passed by.
She was so close to him she could hear him
grunting and breathing heavily.

He stopped a couple of
stalls away and she could hear
him mumbling
as he did some chores. After about ten m
inutes the light bobbed past again and Krystal relaxed
a
little.

It felt nice and warm inside
the stable and it had a
friendly smell. It
reminded Krystal of her Uncle's farm in
Taree, New South Wales. They had visited there a few
years ago, and she had learned to ride a lovely
mare
called Nudge.

Krystal sat down on some
soft hay. It felt good to rest
for a
moment. She wondered if this horse was friendly
like Nudge. She wiggled into the hay. It was a bit
prickly, but warm. She wondered what Kevin and
Tracey
were doing. Were they still waiting
for her to return,
sitting in the
attic?

Krystal realised she was
very tired. It was too dark to
see where
she was exactly. She decided to wait here until
daybreak, then find help. She closed her eyes.

~~~~
Chapter Twenty-four
~~~~

Who's Next

Kevin and Tracey had waited
for a few minutes, staring at
each other
and then at the trapdoor through which Krystal
had disappeared. They didn't dare speak. They heard a car
drive off and voices quieten down.

"I'll go," Kevin decided. He lifted the
trapdoor.

Tracey's heart felt like it
fell to her tummy. She would
soon be alone.
She didn't stop Kevin as he took his torch
and dropped through the hole. She closed the trapdoor
with trembling hands. This was terrible, more
terrible
than anything she could have
imagined. First Matthew
was gone, then
Krystal, now Kevin. "Oh, Lord, help!"
She
bit her lip to stop herself from crying.

Kevin crouched near the box
they used to get up into
the attic from
this end. He couldn't see anyone. Maybe
they had all left, he wondered, as he darted into the
shadows of the verandah. No, there was a dark
coloured
car in the bushes around the front
of the house.

He must get help, he
determined, as he moved slowly
along, his
eyes peeled!

He wondered
if
Krystal was locked in
the car?

Kevin's eyes scanned the
shiny metal. Suddenly there
was a noise
behind him. He stopped. A sharp pain ran
through his neck and shoulders. He felt like he was
falling through a dark tunnel until everything
became
black and still.
Tracey listened carefully, her ear pressed to the
opening
of the trapdoor. "Oh, Kevin, don't
get caught," she
whispered. A dog howled in
the distance. Everything
seemed too quiet,
eerie. It was like everyone who went
through the trapdoor just dissolved.

Tracey longed for her soft
bed with its pink doona
cover. She always
felt so safe there. She pulled her back
pack over and put her head down on it. Surely help would come
soon. What could she do but wait. She
closed her eyes and a flood of tears ran over her nose.
"Oh, Lord, help," she sobbed softly.

~~~~
Chapter T
wenty five
~~~~

The Clue

A noise disturbed Tracey's
restless slumber. It sounded
like a
scraping sound, like bricks moving? Maybe the
fireplace was falling down. "No, she mumbled,"
brushing her hair with her hand, as though she
could
brush the horrible thought away. But
where were
Matthew, Krystal and Kevin; why
hadn't they returned?

Tracey reached for her
torch, and with bated breath,
switched it
on. She shone it on her wristwatch. The pink
face lit up. It was nearly six o'clock. "Oh no," she
moaned. She must have slept for hours. What sort
of a
friend was she? She felt really
annoyed with herself for being so weak. It was up to her to do
something.

Tracey leaned forward and
cautiously lifted the
trapdoor. Her whole
body shook. She felt cold, yet
perspiration
rolled down her temple. The dawn light was
gently melting the darkness of the night. That made her
feel safer somehow. The scraping noise had stopped
too.
Maybe that had only been a possum, she
wished
hopefully.

Tracey lowered her back pack
and waited as it landed
with a thud.
Nothing happened. Trembling all over, she
jumped down next to the back pack. Her legs felt like
jelly as she slowly walked along the verandah. She
could
hear her soft steps as she moved. Her
foot struck
something!
A possum," Tracey mumbled, glancing down. No, the
shape was too big to be a possum. Her heart missed
a
beat as she fell on her knees and looked
at the lump on
the ground. "Kevin!" She
groaned inwardly. "Oh, Lord,
help, please,"
she cried as she very gently shook the
motionless figure. "Please Lord, please Lord, let him
be
all right."

~~~~
Chapter
Twenty six
~~~~

Seeing Red

Krystal dreamed on.... Her
uncle Brian moved towards
her in slow
motion, holding the reins of the grey mare,
Nudge. She could see herself running to them. Lass, her
favourite collie dog brushed against her leg as
she moved
in what seemed like a
movie.

As she came closer to her
uncle, he was really Matthew.
"Matt," she
called, "Matt." Krystal woke up. She
realised she had been dreaming. Where was she? Oh,
how she wished she really was on Uncle Brian's
farm, but
here she was, lying in a stack of
hay in some strange
place. Something
touched Krystal's leg. She quickly
brushed
it away. A soft 'whimper' could be heard in the half-darkness. She
had bowled over a tiny possum. K
rystal
picked up the little possum and stroked its head.
It trembled. She held it close to keep it warm.
"What are you doing here; you should be with your mum."

Its nose wiggled.

Carefully she stood up,
stroking the little creature as she
moved.
"It must have been dropped and fell through one
of the holes in the building," Krystal thought. She
decided to put the possum back in the nearest gum
tree,
just in case its mother came looking
for it.

Cautiously Krystal crept
through the stable door. She
held the
little possum inside her jacket as she crawled
along, using the bushes as cover.
At
the back of the stable was a gum tree. Carefully
Krystal stood up and then stretched to place the
little
possum up on a fork of the tree. It
just sat and stared at
her. Krystal longed
to take the little creature with her but
she knew this was the best thing to do for now.

A sight of the house and the
memory of her dream
reminded Krystal of
Matthew. Was he free now? She
must find out
where he was and get him away from those
ugly men. The day dawned and soon the sun would be
shining. She had to find Matthew. "Bye Possie,"
she
whispered as she turned away. She dared
not look back at
its pleading eyes and
twitching nose.

Krystal moved quietly along
the verandah at the back of
the house. Her
tummy rumbled. A picture of a bowl of
nutty
cereal came to mind. She blinked to remove the
thought.

Krystal peered into the
windows as she went. The first
window was
so filthy she could not see anything. She
moved on. The next window had a blind, so she tried the next.
It was dirty, but one pane of glass was broken. She
looked through the hole. She could see a cupboard
and a
bed. She noticed a red tartan rug
over a small shape. "It's
the one from the
car," she exclaimed softly.

Under the rug was Matthew,
fast asleep, with the white
handkerchief
still tied around his mouth.

Krystal's heart skipped a
beat. "Matt," she called
softly.

He
groaned.
"Matt, it's me, Krystal," she
called again.

Suddenly there was a
shuffling noise. The bedroom
door opened,
and Krystal recognised the figure of Morrie.
She moved away from the window. After a few minutes,
she heard the bedroom door close.

Krystal moved quietly
towards the broken pane in the
window
again. She peeped in and could see Matthew,
sitting on the bed. The cloth had been removed from his
mouth and he was eating something brown and mushy
in
a dish. Morrie had left the
room.

"Matt," Krystal called out. "It's me,
Krystal."

Matthew looked towards her
voice. He put his dish
down, but stayed
sitting. Krystal noticed his legs were
still tied.

"He's coming back. Get
help!" he said softly, just as
the door
opened and Morrie hobbled in again with a mug
in his hand.