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The Medusa Project: Hit Squad

Page 8

by Sophie McKenzie


  ‘Where are the others?’ Nico jumped up. ‘What’s happened to them?’

  ‘Come with me, Ed,’ Jack said, acting as if Nico hadn’t spoken.

  I stood up.

  ‘Where are you taking him?’ Nico’s voice rose.

  Jack still said nothing. I followed him out of the room. I didn’t care where he took me. If Ketty wasn’t in the world any more, what did it matter where I went?

  Jack led me down a couple of corridors. I didn’t take much notice of my surroundings, though I was aware that we were still in the warmer, furnished part of the castle. We went down a short flight of stairs to what I thought was the side of the building, and through a large fire door.

  I found myself in another corridor. This one was painted plain white and had a clinical feel, completely different from the rooms through which we’d come. Jack arrived at a swing door. He pushed it open and ushered me inside.

  I looked around, shocked. We were inside some sort of laboratory. Two rows of counter tops, complete with sinks and pipes snaking out from the walls, stood in front of us. There were shelves neatly stacked with files, a couple of computers and two large microscopes. A row of barrels marked ‘oil’ stood against the far wall.

  The window was barred, just like the room where Nico and I had waited upstairs. I looked through the glass to the glistening expanse of water outside. I thought of Ketty again and my heart gave a sick lurch.

  ‘No questions, Ed?’ Jack said lightly.

  I turned to face him. ‘Where’s Ketty?’ I said. ‘What happened to her?’

  Jack looked away. He was no longer wearing his sunglasses – there was no need. My mind-reading abilities were redundant, thanks to the Medutox, but I could tell he felt uncomfortable. Was that because of Ketty?

  ‘Why won’t you tell me what happened to her?’ I said.

  The door behind me opened. I spun round. A tall, thickset man with intense grey eyes walked into the room. He held out his hand to shake mine, smiling at the look of shock on my face.

  ‘Hello, Ed,’ he said. ‘Remember me?’

  14: The Duel

  The man who had just walked into the lab was Damian Foster. I’d come up against him a few months ago, when the four of us in the Medusa Project had been investigating him and his company, Fostergames.

  Foster was no ordinary criminal. He wasn’t interested in money or power, just in doing whatever it took to get his brother out of prison. And he had the most powerful ability to block my mind-reading skills that I’d ever come across.

  I realised my mouth had fallen open and closed it. Beside me, Jack Linden chuckled.

  ‘This is the man I’ve been working for, Ed,’ he said.

  ‘You?’ I stared at Foster, remembering the last time we’d met. It had been a battle to see inside his mind and then an even greater fight to break the connection as he – against all my other experiences of telepathy – managed to hold my mind with his.

  ‘How are you, Ed?’ Foster said.

  I thought of Ketty.

  ‘What’s happened to the others – Cal and Dylan and . . . and Ketty?’ I said, wondering if he would tell me the truth. If what Dylan had said was accurate, then the guards who swam after them must have found Ketty’s body. In fact – and my stomach gave a sick lurch as I thought this – Ketty’s body was probably in the castle, right now.

  Foster raised his eyebrows. ‘You’ve been in touch with Dylan and Cal?’ he asked, though it sounded more like a statement than a question. ‘You want to know what happened to Ketty?’

  I looked him in the eye. Whatever he was going to say next, there was no way I could trust him. Part of me couldn’t wait until my last Medutox spray wore off in a few minutes so that I could leap inside Foster’s head and find out exactly what he knew. But part of me was scared. I didn’t ever want to feel trapped and out of control, like I had during my previous telepathic session with him.

  Foster sighed. ‘I’m sorry to have to be the one to break the news, but as you obviously already know – Dylan and Cal have escaped, taking our recruit, Tania, with them. Ketty was not so lucky.’ He paused. ‘It’s a shame. She was a lovely girl.’

  Hurt and fury rose inside me. ‘You hypocrite,’ I spat. ‘You don’t care about Ketty. You don’t care about any of us. You’re just using us.’

  ‘Is that what you think?’ Foster sighed again. ‘It’s not quite that straightforward, Ed.’

  ‘No?’ I shouted. ‘What was all that about with the train, then? Jack Linden said one of the reasons for crashing it was to demonstrate our powers to that Mr Ripley, so that he’d give you more money for your research. Which is obscene, because you’ve already made that boy unconscious.’

  Foster shook his head. ‘Bradley isn’t unconscious any more,’ he said. ‘He’s come through it now.’ I followed his gaze. He was looking through to the next room. ‘Bradley, come out here, please,’ he called.

  I watched, open-mouthed again, as a boy of about thirteen, with dark hair and pale skin, walked through the door. He looked tired – there were dark shadows under his grey eyes – and skinny, but his expression was bright and fierce.

  ‘This is my brother’s son, Bradley,’ Foster said. ‘You remember my brother, don’t you, Ed? My brother, Rick?’

  I nodded. Rick was the reason we’d come up against Foster before. Rick was in prison and Foster had been trying to blackmail the government – by setting off a bomb – into letting him go.

  ‘Rick died in prison last month,’ Foster said flatly. ‘So I’m looking after his boy.’

  He turned to Bradley. I followed his gaze. There was something hostile in Bradley’s grey eyes, so like Foster’s own I realised. But the boy was also scared.

  You have to tell me how to see your thoughts.

  I jumped. The Medutox had worn off and the boy was inside my head.

  How are you doing that? I thought-spoke.

  Bradley shrugged. I could sense his confusion through his presence in my mind.

  The Medusix gave me the ability to speak without words, Bradley thought-spoke. But I can’t mind-read . . . see into anyone’s thoughts or feelings . . . like my uncle says you can.

  I could barely believe it. So Medusix really worked. I remembered the reports we’d found online.

  What about telekinesis? I thought-spoke, remembering the reports of the car moving, undriven, across the car park.

  I can do that too. I moved a car and some tools the other day – and look . . . Bradley broke the connection between us and turned towards one of the barrels of oil that stood against the far wall. He held out his hand and carefully raised the barrel up into the air. It wobbled about for a bit, then he slowly transported it a metre across the floor and set it down again. I’m working on all my skills so I can help my uncle.

  Help him do what?

  ‘Well done, Bradley,’ Foster said with a warmth that surprised me. ‘That’s really coming on.’ He looked at me. ‘The oil is the base ingredient for the Medusix . . . the delivery mechanism, if you like. We add various chemicals and our best approximation of the code for the Medusa gene and then the recipient takes a regular dose.’ He waved his hand, indicating a row of thick glass bottles on a nearby shelf. ‘Our stocks of Medusix. It takes a lot of effort to create enough even for one person. The oil helps us dilute the drug so it can go further, without losing its potency.’

  I turned to Jack Linden. He had a huge grin on his face and was obviously enjoying how shocked I was. I looked back at Foster.

  ‘You made the Medusix work, after all,’ I said dully. My mind whirled with the possibilities this could give Foster . . . the terrible, massive consequences of this power. In an instant I knew I had to see inside his mind, to find out – without giving him a chance to lie to me or prepare first – what exactly his plans were.

  I made eye contact. Seconds later I was inside Foster’s mind. I felt his surprise – then his whole brain seemed to withdraw. I can’t explain it any other way, but it felt
like he darted behind a wall where I couldn’t reach him.

  Well, he wasn’t getting away from me that easily. I gritted my teeth and focused all my energy on getting past the ‘wall’. Foster’s resistance was strong. I was immediately catapulted back to the day, several months ago, when I had gone inside his mind before. Then I had felt him grip my own thoughts and feelings, able to control my own.

  This time I was going to show him that I was in charge. I mentally slid across the wall he was creating, looking for cracks. In the lab I could hear voices. There was Bradley, asking his uncle what was going on. But Foster didn’t reply. I wasn’t letting him speak.

  You’ve got stronger, Ed. Foster’s thought-speech was admiring.

  Whatever. I was in no mood for his flattery. I carried on scanning his defences. There had to be a weakness . . . something he wasn’t able to hide from me.

  There. I saw my chance and I took it. I caught the tail of a thought about my own increased power and rode it past the wall, which seemed to dissolve as I saw deeper. Seconds later Foster’s thoughts were laid bare.

  And I saw his plan.

  A moment after that and Foster was pushing me away again, constructing another wall. I wavered, distracted by the horror of what I’d seen. As my focus dwindled, Foster’s resistance to me increased again. The wall went up. I felt suddenly, totally exhausted.

  Ketty? I asked.

  Dead, came the reply.

  I broke the connection, sick to my stomach. I turned away, panting. Foster was also gasping for breath. Clearly the encounter had taken as much out of him as of me.

  A tense silence fell on the lab. I was vaguely aware of Jack Linden and Bradley watching us intently, but I didn’t look up. I’d seen Foster’s plan and – under terrible pressure – he’d admitted Ketty was gone.

  I couldn’t remember ever feeling worse in my life.

  ‘Your powers have increased exponentially since we last duelled,’ Foster said. Again, that note of admiration in his voice. ‘I’m impressed with what you can do. You’ll make a great teacher for Bradley.’

  I looked up. ‘I’m not teaching Bradley anything,’ I spat. ‘I’ve seen what you’re going to use him to do.’

  Another tense silence. And then Foster smiled.

  ‘Take Ed back to his room,’ he said. ‘Give him some time to think it over.’

  ‘I don’t need time,’ I said. ‘There’s nothing you can do to me that’ll make me cooperate.’

  This wasn’t strictly true, of course. I could just imagine how long I’d last if Foster started threatening Nico in front of me. Still, at that moment I was so angry I didn’t care what I did or said. I just wanted to defy him.

  Jack took me back to the room. Nico jumped up as I walked in. He looked better than before, though the bruise on his face was really coming out now – a mass of dark purple against his olive skin.

  ‘Ed, are you all right?’ he said, rushing over as Jack slammed the door shut on me. Needless to say, I’d been sprayed with Medutox on the way back.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I said. I paced up and down, past the brocade sofa. The enormity of Foster’s plan was sinking in.

  ‘Did Jack tell you about Ketty?’ Nico asked. ‘Is . . . is it really true?’

  ‘I think it is.’ I stopped pacing and turned to face him.

  Nico’s eyes burned through me. I couldn’t bear the pain in his expression.

  ‘Tell me what Jack said.’ His voice faltered as he spoke.

  ‘It wasn’t Jack who told me. It was Foster,’ I said. ‘He’s the man behind all this . . . the one Jack’s working for.’

  Nico looked dazed as I described how Foster and I had communicated telepathically. He nodded when I reported what I’d seen in Foster’s mind about Ketty, but said nothing.

  I didn’t want to think about it any more, so I kept talking, explaining that Foster’s nephew, Bradley, was no longer unconscious and was in possession of a range of basic psychic skills. ‘I’m not sure what else he can do, but definitely a bit of telepathy and telekinesis,’ I said. ‘It was him who moved that car and those workman’s tools – the telekinesis we heard about that brought us to Lovistov.’

  ‘And Foster wants us to train him up further?’ Nico spoke at last, his voice full of bitterness. ‘That’s what he’s brought us here for?’

  ‘Not exactly.’ I took a deep breath. It was hard to speak Foster’s plan out loud. Somehow that made the insanity of it real. ‘Foster wants us to train Bradley so he can lead an army of kids, all of whom will be given the Medusix. Foster’s sending his men out right now to recruit more children – like Jack recruited Tania.’

  Nico frowned. ‘Why does Foster want an army of kids?’ he asked.

  ‘He wants to create a hit squad,’ I explained. ‘It’s his revenge on the government and people like judges for letting his brother Rick die in prison.’

  ‘You mean he’s going to turn a bunch of random kids into psychic soldiers to . . . to kill people?’ Nico said.

  ‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘And we’re part of the training team.’

  Nico shook his head. His eyes lost their blank look and filled with a new fury. ‘We can’t let this happen, Ed. Apart from anything else, we can’t let him trick innocent children into running away from their homes and then brainwash them into becoming murderers.’ His voice shook. ‘We have to stop him . . . for Ketty’s sake.’

  I thought back to the lab, to the stocks of Medusix on the shelves and to the big tubs of oil standing in the corner.

  ‘I know we have to stop him,’ I said. ‘And I’ve just worked out how.’

  15: A Lesson

  My plan was straightforward – if crazily ambitious. Somehow Nico and I had to get into the lab and destroy the stocks of Medusix before Foster conned more kids into joining his embryonic hit squad and then experimented on them.

  ‘We can use the oil that’s in there to cause an explosion. That’ll get rid of the Medusix and all the equipment.’

  ‘Foster and Jack are bound to have back-up stocks,’ Nico said.

  Since I’d come up with my plan he hadn’t mentioned Ketty, but I could see the pain in his eyes and hear it in the reckless bitterness of his voice.

  ‘I don’t think they have stocks,’ I said. ‘And, before they can get everything they need to make the drug again, we’ll be able to get the police involved.’

  ‘What about Dylan and Cal?’ Nico asked. ‘And Amy back in Australia? Don’t you think they’ll already have gone to the police?’ His voice cracked. ‘Man, d’you think they’ll have called Ketty’s parents?’

  ‘I guess so.’ I took a deep breath, trying to keep my focus on the plan. ‘But even if the police know where we are, it’s still going to take time for them to reach us. And Foster’s going to give Medusix to the new kids as soon as they’re here.’

  Nico looked up. Misery was etched into his face. ‘Right,’ he said, his eyes hardening again. ‘So how do we get back to the lab?’

  ‘Easy, we go outside to give Bradley his psychic skills lesson – then you teleport me up to the lab and I set the oil barrels on fire.’

  Nico stared at me. ‘How are you going to cause the explosion?’

  I fished in my pocket for the lighter I’d stolen earlier. It was still there, tucked snugly beside the student’s wallet. ‘With this,’ I said. ‘And a bit of luck. You’ll have to stay free from Medutox to teleport me out of the lab again afterwards.’

  ‘But there are bars on the lab window,’ Nico said. ‘I can’t get you past them.’

  My heart sank. I hadn’t considered that. ‘Okay, then I’ll have to make my own way up there while you cause a distraction. I’ll find my own way out too.’

  ‘What’s happened to you, Ed, man?’ Nico said with a wondering shake of the head. For a second, he looked like his old self again. ‘You’ve gone all . . . all action hero.’

  ‘No I haven’t,’ I said, feeling my cheeks reddening. ‘It’s just we have to stop Foster and Jack. It’
ll be some kind of justice for Ketty.’

  Nico’s face fell. I bit my lip, wishing I hadn’t mentioned her name.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘A distraction will work. All we need is our powers back.’

  In the end it was hours before Jack reappeared, though a guard stepped inside the room at regular intervals to feed us and spray us with Medutox. There was no sign of Dylan and Cal – I had no idea what had happened to them and, without my Medusa powers, no way of finding out.

  When Jack finally returned, we told him we were ready to give Bradley some lessons in telepathy and telekinesis. Jack looked cautiously pleased and – as the sun set over the lake – he brought Foster and Bradley to our room. They were accompanied by two guards I didn’t recognise.

  I glanced at the five of them, feeling suddenly anxious. It was going to be hard enough to get up to the lab without being seen – but completely impossible to get away from all these people without someone raising an alarm.

  ‘This won’t work,’ Nico said. He sounded convincingly hard-headed. Over the past few hours I’d watched him bury his pain over Ketty too deep to surface easily. ‘We can’t stay inside. I need more space to do telekinesis.’

  ‘And having all these people watching doesn’t help either,’ I added.

  ‘The guards and I are staying,’ Foster said firmly. ‘But we can go outside where there’s more room and Jack can go and check on plans for accessing our new kids.’

  I glanced at Nico again. So they were already targeting a new batch of guinea pigs to experiment on. We had to move quickly. I turned to Bradley, determined to show a convincing level of interest in his abilities.

  ‘So . . . er, what does the Medusix taste like?’ I asked him.

  He blinked, clearly surprised I’d spoken directly to him. ‘Like rotten vegetables,’ he said with a grimace. ‘It’s disgusting. I have to take it every morning and every eve—’

  ‘No need to explain everything,’ Foster said, cutting him off. ‘Let’s get on.’

  We went downstairs. As we walked past the doorway where I’d last seen Ketty, I felt a terrible pang. How could this place . . . these people . . . still be here, and not her?

 

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