The Rescue Page 13

  I let out a long sigh. Maybe my head was still too fuzzy. Maybe Geri was simply too far away. Or maybe I didn’t have a strong enough emotional connection with her to make a telepathic connection work.

  This last thought took me to Ketty . . . and to Luz. Would Carson let Luz go? I couldn’t imagine he would. And yet what use could he possibly have for a poor Spanish girl from a care home? My stomach twisted as I thought of the terrible danger I’d put her in – a thought which led me back to Tsonga and his fear for his family which led me, inevitably, to my own mum and dad. I’d tried, for the past day or two, not to think about them at all, but now it was as if all the thoughts I’d been pushing away were insisting on rushing back.

  Almost without acknowledging what I was doing, I focused on Mum’s face – her lined forehead and short, greying hair. She’s not my real mum, of course, so we don’t look anything alike, but I know I’ve picked up a lot of her expressions. We both share a slightly anxious look behind the eyes, and there’s definitely a tightness in the way we smile sometimes.

  I concentrated harder, again trying not to push too hard at making the connection.

  Nothing.

  Misery welled up from my guts. I squeezed my eyes tight shut. Keep trying, I said to myself. I moved on to Dad, focusing on his sandy hair, ruddy face and blue eyes. Still nothing.

  It was dark outside. Even through closed eyes, I could tell that the dim light which had filtered in from the single high window earlier on had now completely disappeared. Fighting the despair that filled me, I thought of my sisters. Amy, with the same blue eyes as our dad, and little Kim, who looked just like her mum.

  At first I moved between them, unable to settle, then I fixed on Amy. She was twelve now and, to be honest, I didn’t feel I knew her very well any more. When I left home to go to Fox Academy she was all into her new friends at St Michael’s – the girls’ Catholic grammar school she’d started at last autumn – and we didn’t talk that much. As Mum said, Amy only seemed to have three topics of conversation: her friends, her music and how much she hated everything about her new school – from the overstrict teachers to the minging purple uniform.

  Still, we’d been close when we were little. And I couldn’t think of anyone else to try. So I steadied my breathing again and focused on Amy’s face – wide eyes, arched brows and high cheekbones – all framed by her thick, chestnut-coloured hair.

  At first nothing happened. I knew I was pushing at the connection . . . trying too hard. I sighed, half giving up, just idly thinking about Amy . . . the shape of her face . . . her eyes . . . And then I felt a flicker . . . that strange sense I’d had before, with Ketty, that I was fading in and out of someone else’s mind.

  I let myself go with the sensation, trying to ride it like a wave. With a sudden ‘whoosh’ I found myself sucked into Amy’s head. Whoa. This was a far stronger, more solid connection than I’d had during remote telepathy with Ketty.

  I sensed Amy feel my presence and start to panic.

  Hey, Amy, I thought-spoke. It’s me, Ed. I stopped, unsure what to say next and overwhelmed by the tornado of emotion rushing round Amy’s head. I wasn’t certain it was all brought on by my sudden entrance into her brain, either. God, how did she cope with that level of hysteria on a permanent basis?

  Ed? Her thought-speech was pitched almost at a shriek. Oh. My. God. Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmi—

  Calm down, Amy. Listen, I don’t have much time.

  But you’re there . . . here . . . how? Mum and Dad said you were in trouble and you’d gone away to some . . . I dunno . . . it sounded like a prison, though it can’t be worse than here. Mum actually grounded me for my phone running out of power yesterday—

  Amy, listen—

  It’s so unfair, she’s always picking on me and she’s been going on about keeping quiet about you as well, like I’m some stupid . . . oh my God I can’t believe it’s you, I mean how are you doing this?

  Slow down. In spite of my terrible predicament, I was almost laughing at Amy’s outburst. Her mind overran with a feverish imagination. Thoughts and feelings sparked out of nowhere. I caught glimpses of feuds and tears and every intense emotion imaginable – all simmering just out of plain view.

  But what’s going on, Ed, how is this happening?

  Ask Mum and Dad about Medusa, they’ll explain everything, I thought-spoke, feeling guilty. Mum and Dad had insisted that the girls shouldn’t know about the Medusa gene – that it was too weird and upsetting for them. Still, what choice did I have?

  Is this . . . this mind-reading real? How do I know I’m not imagining you?

  You’re not imagining anything. I’m Ed – if you don’t believe me, check my bedroom – you’ll find a shoebox in the wardrobe. If you look right at the bottom, you’ll see my old chess set. Three of the pawns – that’s the littlest figures – are missing. There’s no way anyone else knows about that, okay?

  Okay, I’ll check, but how are you doing this? How long have you been able to?

  A while. It’s why I went away to that boarding school.

  Is it why you’re in trouble now?

  Sort of. Look, Amy, I don’t have time to explain everything right now. I need you to tell Mum and Dad I’ve contacted you. I don’t know where I am, but it’s somewhere in North Africa, and I’m a prisoner . . . we all are . . .

  A prisoner! Who’s ‘we’, for God’s sake? Ed, this can’t be happening.

  It is. Check my chess set. Listen. There are four of us. Mum and Dad know about some of it. You have to tell them to contact Geri Paterson—

  Who?

  Her name is Geri Paterson. They’ll know how to get hold of her. You need to pass on this message – that the four of us are being held prisoner by Blake Carson, somewhere in North Africa, and she has to track him down and get us out. I’ll contact you again in a few hours and—

  Light flooded the room behind my eyes as the door was flung open. I lost the connection.

  Amy was gone.

  18: The plan

  I looked round, half my head still focused on my telepathic conversation with Amy. Blake Carson was standing by the open door of my room. He watched me as I sat up, then pulled on a pair of dark sunglasses.

  ‘Were you asleep?’ he said.

  ‘Er, yes.’ I faked a yawn and glanced up at the window. It was still dark outside.

  ‘Good, I need you rested.’

  ‘What for?’ My heart skipped a beat.

  ‘Handover.’

  ‘Handover?’ I stared blankly at him.

  ‘Come on, Ed. You must have noticed the two-way mirror in the interrogation room next door.’

  I thought back to the room and how I’d noticed my reflection and the gash in the back of Tsonga’s head. ‘Who was watching me?’

  ‘A man called General Djounsou and a couple of his closest aides. The General is very interested in having you help them.’

  General Djounsou. I remembered that name from my telepathic communication with Tsonga. He was the man Tsonga and his brother were fighting.

  ‘Help how?’ My head reeled with all this new information.

  ‘Djounsou’s tired of the endless insurgencies against him. He believes he spends too much time firefighting all the rebellions against him, and not enough building his empire. He sees you as a fast, effective interrogation method. One that will get him fail-safe information to bring the recent spate of uprisings to a swift end.’

  ‘Like telling them who, and where the resistance is happening,’ I said. ‘Like I did with Tsonga?’ A cold sensation washed over me at the thought of how many people this could put in terrible danger.

  ‘Exactly. Plus Djounsou is aware that news of your strange abilities will spread quickly. Most of the villages in this region are full of poor, uneducated people who, underneath their Man U shirts and happy-clappy Christianity, still believe in spirits and magic and all kinds of whacko nonsense. Your mind-reading will terrify them. Djounsou knows you’re the best propaganda weapon h
e could have.’

  ‘I can’t work for Djounsou,’ I said, horrified. ‘I can’t use my ability to terrorise people.’

  ‘You don’t have a choice, Ed,’ Carson said, smoothly. ‘Quite apart from the consequences to yourself and your family back home if you don’t cooperate, we’ve been experimenting with Cobra, Mamba and Viper too. And the girls will suffer if you don’t do what you’re told.’

  It took me a second to register what he meant – then I remembered . . . the snake names were the codes William Fox had given us when he implanted us with the Medusa gene. Nico was Cobra, Dylan was Mamba and Ketty was Viper. I bit my lip.

  ‘We’ve discovered that, as I thought, Nico’s Gift makes him highly valuable – his telekinesis is a fantastic weapon, as you know. Dylan’s ability is far less intrinsically useful.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Dylan’s ability to see physical harm coming her way and deal with it protects only herself. We’ve taken loads of blood from her and I’ve got people researching ways of unlocking her ability from that – to decode it, if you like. So while Dylan’s skill is useful, she herself is of very limited value. Likewise Ketty – I’ve pushed her quite hard and she’s been unable to convince me she can see any further than the end of her nose.’

  My guts twisted at the thought of Ketty being bullied by Carson. And then I remembered Luz.

  ‘What about the Spanish girl we came with?’ I said.

  ‘I have no plans for her.’ Carson waved his hand dismissively. ‘She’s certainly not part of the deal with Djounsou.’

  I felt sick. Luz was just fallout from Carson’s game, with no value to him. And it was my fault that she was even here.

  Carson fell silent. ‘Djounsou is waiting to see if you gave him accurate information about the weapons stash in Mahore. If he’s impressed, you’ll be taken away from here to wherever he’s based. If not . . . well, I’ve told you what will happen if not . . .’

  I swallowed, remembering the half-truth I’d told earlier. At least I’d thought to say that the hiding place for the guns got changed on a regular basis.

  ‘So Djounsou wants me as his secret weapon?’ I said.

  Carson nodded. ‘It’s funny, really, seeing as Geri went to such lengths to keep your existence a secret. That’s why all the charges against me were dropped, you know. Because so much of the evidence would have had to come from you and the others and Geri didn’t want you exposed.’

  ‘Can I see them – the others?’

  ‘The girls, yes. Nico’s locked away somewhere else but, yes, the girls . . . come with me.’

  Carson took me round the corner to some sort of communications room, full of desks and monitors. An armed guard stood in the doorway. Two more were inside the room.

  ‘As you can see,’ Carson said, ‘there are cameras everywhere, the highest security . . . and armed guards at all the exits.’

  I peered more closely into the room. A row of black-and-white monitors showed silent CCTV from about ten different places. Several screens showed empty corridors and unused rooms. I could see Nico, bound and gagged, in one room and the girls in another. The three of them were standing in a huddle, like they were chatting in low voices. From this distance none of them looked beaten up or obviously injured.

  ‘That’s enough,’ Carson ordered.

  He took me along the corridor to the room at the end, unlocked it and shoved me inside. The girls were there, still huddled together, like they had been when I’d seen them on the monitor. Now I was seeing them in the flesh, it was obvious Ketty and Luz had both been crying.

  Before either of the others could move, Ketty raced towards me and flung herself into my arms.

  ‘Oh, Ed, you’re okay!’

  I hugged her back, hard. Over her shoulder I could see Dylan, standing with her arms folded. Luz leaned against the wall, watching me, then slid down so she was sitting, huddled against the concrete, her thin arms wrapped round her knees. I wanted to go to her, but I also wanted to be hugging Ketty.

  To be honest, in spite of everything that had happened to us, I have to admit it felt good to have two girls caring about me.

  Ketty stepped away from me. ‘What did they make you do?’ she said.

  I told them about having to mind-read Tsonga and what Carson had said about me being handed over to General Djounsou.

  ‘He said there were plans for Nico, too. He’s locked up in one of the other cells. Have you seen him?’

  ‘Not since we got off that freakin’ boat,’ Dylan said.

  Ketty’s golden-brown eyes widened with concern. ‘Haven’t you tried to communicate with him, Ed?’ she said.

  I shook my head, suddenly feeling guilty.

  ‘By the way,’ Dylan said, ‘there’s a camera above the door.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘There’s one in my room too, but I’ve seen the monitors. They can’t hear us.’

  ‘Good, because we’ve already been talking about how we can get out of here,’ Dylan said. ‘And I’ve got an idea.’

  ‘Yeah, but we need a proper plan, Dylan.’ Ketty glanced at me, her eyebrows raised.

  ‘It is a proper plan, Ketty,’ Dylan snarled. ‘It’s a good plan. And it’s all we’ve got, unless you’ve come up with something based on your latest vision.’ She paused, opening her eyes wide in pretend shock. ‘Oh, no. Wait. I forgot. You haven’t had a freakin’ vision.’

  ‘Your ability isn’t any more helpful than mine,’ Ketty snapped. ‘And your plan is rubbish.’

  Despite the fact that they were both talking quietly, Luz covered her ears.

  ‘Shut up, both of you,’ I said.

  Ketty and Dylan stopped glaring at each other and turned to face me. Ketty looked a little shamefaced, Dylan just raised her eyebrows.

  ‘What did you say?’ she said.

  ‘Having a go at each other won’t help anything,’ I said. ‘Plus, it’s upsetting Luz.’ I pointed to where Luz sat, head bowed, ears still covered, in the corner of the room.

  Dylan’s green eyes narrowed. ‘Well, Ed, I’m very sorry about that but, gee, I guess I’m just a little bit stressed by everything. Apart from the fact that we’re freakin’ prisoners here, they keep taking blood from me and I hate needles.’

  ‘Be quiet and look at me,’ I said. It suddenly occurred to me that just because the security monitors didn’t pick up sound, didn’t mean the room wasn’t bugged, and I needed a chance to tell all the girls about my contact with Amy – and how Geri would surely be on her way to rescue us soon – without taking any risks that Carson’s men might be listening in.

  Dylan hesitated a second, then raised her eyes. Whoosh.

  The inside of Dylan’s mind felt like a taut muscle, stretched to snapping point. Residual anger and resentment seemed to overlay all her thoughts and feelings and yet I sensed a huge vulnerability underneath.

  Listen, Ed, she thought-spoke in her imperious way. We need to jump the next guard who appears. Make a run for it while the door’s unlocked. If we get out, we can bring back help for Nico.

  Wait . . .

  No, listen. Dylan’s thought-speech was insistent. When the guard comes back, you hold him with your mind-reading while we tie him up. We’ve linked our bras together to make a sort of rope. It’s not great, but we can fasten his hands to the door handle. It’ll give us a few minutes and—

  That’s insane. A million images of bras and guards and beds filled my head. I blushed, hoping Dylan wasn’t able to see any of them. It’s far too risky. I’ve seen the CCTV monitors in this place – there’s millions of them and the guards have guns.

  We have to do something.

  I already am, I said, eagerly. I’ve managed to contact my sister, Amy, by remote telepathy. She’s going to tell Geri what’s happening. I’m contacting her again in a few hours. She should have found Geri by then.

  I could feel Dylan’s mood shift as I spoke, hope surging up through the cynicism, then fading as she checked herself.

 
I didn’t think you could do mind-reading remotely? she thought-spoke. I mean, Ketty said what you did on the boat, but you couldn’t do that before, could you?

  No, but I can do it now. Just be patient. And don’t think about us trying to escape on our own. It’d be suicide.

  I broke the connection, then thought-spoke the same information to Ketty.

  As I was finishing up, Dylan hissed in my ear. ‘Stop, Carson’s coming.’

  I broke off immediately, just as the footsteps stopped and the door opened. I glanced over my shoulder. Carson was standing in the doorway. ‘I need you to come with me, now, kiddo,’ he said.

  Damn. I hadn’t had a chance to speak to Luz. I turned towards her. Ketty grabbed my arm.

  ‘Try the remote thing with Nico,’ she whispered. ‘Find out where he is . . . if he’s okay . . .’

  Nodding, I hurried over to where Luz was still sitting. She jumped up and put her arms round me. She was trembling.

  ‘I scared, Eds,’ she whispered in my ear.

  My stomach cartwheeled. ‘It’ll be okay,’ I whispered back. ‘You’ll be all right, I promise.’

  ‘Come on, Ed,’ Carson ordered from the door. ‘General Djounsou wants to meet you. And he’s not a man to be kept waiting.’

  19: The general

  The room Djounsou was in was heavily guarded and in another part of the complex. Carson had led me through a bewildering maze of corridors to get there. I’d kept my eyes open for Nico, but saw no sign of him.

  Carson spoke as we walked, giving me instructions on how to behave.

  ‘Djounsou took over the country through a military coup several months ago, but he’s not secure in his position and he sees enemies all around him. Don’t try to get too close to him – his guards won’t like it.’ He stopped outside a hefty fire door. ‘This is it – as far as I go. Djounsou doesn’t want to see me again – you’re on your own, kiddo.’

  He pushed the door open. Heart pounding, I walked through. I was in some kind of waiting room, with another door opposite. Two soldiers stood on either side of it – big men with big guns. As soon as they saw me, one of them turned and rapped on the door. A woman opened it. She was young and black and traditionally dressed in a yellow and black swathe of material. She glanced at me, then beckoned me through.