Blood Brothers

by Ruth Fox

  Zach was thinking frantically. Obviously, whoever this Donovan was, he was in charge. The monsters spoke of him with slight awe and fear. Was there any connection between him and the Donovan Institute that Herman Sanders had told him about—the old Factory? Whatever was going on—whatever the reason was behind the kidnappings—this guy was organising it.

  Why?

  It was hard to think while Slit-nose was twisting his arms painfully.

  “Pretty bracelet,” Lex went on. “Where’d you get it from?”

  “It’s not a bracelet,” her captor snarled. “It’s a Cingulum. It’s the symbol of the Grelgoroth. A badge of honour!”

  Zach felt a jolt through his body. Grelgoroth. That was the word Monster-boy had said his grandfather had used, and Fernzy had used it too. What did it mean?

  “Where’d you buy it? I could wear one to the Summer Formal. It’s not until the start of next year, but I could start planning what I’m going to wear now . . .”

  Zach wanted to tell her to stop infuriating their captors. They might get mad and hurt her. But he stopped himself, wondering if there was an alternative purpose behind her taunts. If they’d been asked direct questions, the monsters just wouldn’t have answered. But because Lex was being so provocative, the monsters were responding—and unintentionally revealing things.

  Crest-head snorted. “You can’t buy a Cingulum. They’re made from purest silver, and only given to the Grelgoroth’s trusted servants.”

  “They’re rare,” said Slit-nose. “Only nineteen have been granted to newcomers! The others—well, they’re the Old Ones. From the time before.”

  Zach tried to work out what they meant by this. It fit with what he had learned about the wristbands so far—which was that Morton’s grandfather had owned one, that he’d thought it was precious enough to pass down to Morton, and that as soon as they’d seen it, the monsters had practically fallen at Morton’s feet. That it was the symbol of the Grelgoroth—and that a tough guy like Fernzy had practically turned and run when he saw one. And that Tommy, who’d been kidnapped and brought here, to the Grotto Silver Works, had responded to the symbol as well.

  But what did the rest of it mean—Old Ones? Newcomers? And what on earth was this Grelgoroth?

  He tried to think of a way he could ask these questions, but Lex was already saying: “I bet I could get one. If I asked the Grelgoroth.”

  This, apparently, was a very amusing thing to say. Both Slit-nose and Crest-head dissolved into laughter, which meant Lex, Ryder and Zach got shaken around a fair bit.

  “She’s a comedian!” said Crest-head.

  “Ask the Grelgoroth,” Slit-nose added. “When you’re looking into its eyes, yeah, you just go ahead and ask it. See what it says to you.”

  The elevator groaned and creaked, and there was a clattering sound as if a chain or cable was banging on the roof of the car. They were still going down.

  And down.

  Zach watched the lights pass behind the panel. Some of them flickered. It seemed to take a long time to reach L5, and by the time they did, Zach was feeling nauseous again.

  The doors slid open, and Slit-nose stepped out. “This is our stop, boys and girls.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  They were in a long corridor. It was cold, the kind of cold Zach had felt in the tunnels under the streets. The cold of being deep inside the earth.

  They must have come down a hundred metres. He tried not to think of how far down he was—the thought of so much dirt and rock and concrete and steel above him was alarming. He wanted to stay focussed.

  The smell definitely didn’t help.

  It wafted down the corridor and lodged itself like a ball of cotton wool inside Zach’s nose. It was like . . . treacle and rotten cabbage, vinegar, red wine and day-old fish and the boys’ change room after PhysEd all rolled into one.

  “Must be getting lunch ready,” said Slit-nose, sniffing appreciatively as they made their way to the end of the corridor.

  There was a door here, set deeply into the wall like a bank vault. Slit-nose fitted his wristband into the recessed keyhole, just as he had outside the elevator, and hit a button on one side. There was a hissing sound and the door moved, sliding back, then rolling sideways.

  Beyond was a room. It wasn’t a big room, and it was shaped like an L. The walls, floor and ceiling were made of metal. Fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling, casting a flat blue glow over everything. Shelves were bolted tightly to the floor, completely bare. There were also a few cabinets that had had their doors removed, and several long benches, some with sinks, only jutting screws where the taps would have fitted.

  It was even colder in here.

  Zach’s skin pimpled with goosebumps instantly. His breath frosted in front of him. He saw the reason why when he looked up—air vents, covered with thick metal grates, blowing frigid air into the room.

  “They’ve turned the temperature down again,” said Crest-head.

  Slit-nose shrugged. “I heard shouts and banging, earlier. I guess they were getting rowdy again. The cold keeps them calm.”

  Zach couldn’t see who they were talking about, but he gathered they weren’t alone in this big room. The two monsters pushed them forwards, and Lex stumbled and fell to her knees. Zach turned, angrily, but they were already shutting the door.

  “If you let all the kids freeze to death, you won’t have any left to use. It kind of defeats the purpose, don’t you think?” Lex yelled.

  “If it’s necessary to turn up the temperature, Donovan will tell us so,” Crest-head grunted.

  “Oh, so you all do what Donovan says? If he tells you to smear pollen all over yourself and dance under a beehive, are you going to do that, too?”

  But this last insult was lost on them. The thick door was back in place. There was a hiss of pressure and another blast of cold air. Zach shivered, then turned to Lex with concern. She winced when she staggered to her feet, unbalanced thanks to her arms still being tied behind her back. “Are you okay?”

  “I hit my knee when he dropped me,” she said, but there was anger in her voice. “Moron.”

  Zach smiled with relief. It was good to be around someone as capable and confident as Lex right now. Her strength radiated from her like warmth from the sun, and Zach felt less anxious just being near her.

  He wished she wasn’t so abrasive sometimes. Over the past few days she had proved she was an actual human being—that she thought about things, that she worried about others, and about what others thought of her; she had a heart to go with her lightning-quick brain. She’d shown she was capable of talking to people instead of at them. It made him wonder if she acted like a bully sometimes because she wanted to hide this other side of her—if she was just afraid that if she didn’t act that way, she’d lose her shield and have to let other people in.

  Wasn’t that exactly what he’d done with Morton? Pushed him away, snapped at him, done stupid and horrible things to try and hurt him . . . yes, he’d thought they were friends, but maybe Morton had never thought that. Maybe this was Monster-boy’s way of getting back at him. Maybe, that night when he’d followed the monsters into the tunnels, he’d come here, into the Grotto Silver Works and arranged everything so that Zach, Lex and Ryder would all get what they deserved, and he could finally learn all he wanted to know about his grandfather, leaving the name Morgenstern behind forever.

  “Seriously, I’m fine, Zach,” Lex said, looking at him with a strange little half-grin, and Zach realised he’d been staring at her. He blushed.

  “A-hem,” said Ryder, and his knowing glance between the two of them showed exactly what he was thinking, which made Zach blush harder. To cover his embarrassment, he looked around.

  “What is this place?”

  “It’s a cool room,” replied Ryder decisi
vely. He was looking around at the benches and shelves. “They have one of these at the Café Aroma, one of the places Mum works at. They keep meat and stuff in it. It stays fresh for . . .”

  “Fresh,” enunciated Lex. “Fresh meat. Is that what we are?”

  The three friends stared at one another.

  At that moment there was a sound from around the corner. “Hey,” said a strained voice. “It’s three of them!”

  “Three?” came a second, querying voice. “At once?”

  Zach took a step forwards and tried his best to look confident and tough. He saw who had spoken—it was a short boy who looked vaguely familiar, a few years younger than he was, with spiky hair and a scowling expression. He was crouching half behind a shelf, using it as cover as he spied on the newcomers.

  His companion, a girl wearing a pink Pixie Ponies pyjama top, stood up slowly.

  “Ryder?” the girl said. “What are you doing here? How did they catch you?”

  “Maryanne!” Ryder said. He turned to Zach. “Hayley Masters’s sister,” he explained. “She plays with Miranda sometimes.”

  The boy was busy scrutinising the newcomers.

  “Who are you?” he asked, slowly standing up. “I know you. I’ve seen you before.”

  Zach suddenly remembered. The boy was Harrison, whom he’d seen at the orphanage the first day he’d met Morton. He hadn’t liked the boy then. It didn’t look as though captivity had improved his attitude.

  “I’ve seen you before too. At the Hope Orphanage,” Zach informed him. “I was there with my parents.”

  “O-o-o-o-h, yeah.” Harrison said this slowly. “You’re the freaks who adopted the monster.”

  Zach frowned. “We adopted Morton,” he answered. “Yeah.”

  “I bet you took him home to your posh house,” said the boy. “I bet you put him on display in your lounge room so your dinner guests can look at him.”

  Zach nearly laughed, but this boy wasn’t just making a joke. There was something sinister and threatening in his stance. Harrison turned, and yelled over his shoulder to someone they couldn’t yet see.

  “We’ve got some more private school kids here! Hah! Where are your little gold badges? They’re not going to help you now, are they?”

  Zach felt anger lance through him, but Lex kept her head. “You must have seen other kids from Middleview Hills in here, right?” asked Lex.

  Harrison tilted his head. “A few girls, wearing that stupid uniform. They looked like retards even before they got Tested.”

  “Where are they?” Zach asked him eagerly, hoping he was talking about Ida and Fiona.

  “The others are around here,” Harrison said, and Zach, Lex and Ryder followed him as he rounded the corner.

  Zach hadn’t known what to expect, of course, when they found the kids they’d come to rescue. Maybe that they’d all fall down at his feet, crying and saying thank you. He’d lead them home like a hero.

  But what he found was a group of a dozen filthy, ratty kids. They were covered in dried food stains and dirt from the tunnels. Some were wearing pyjamas, some school uniforms, some casual clothes, and some were wearing bits and pieces of all three, having swapped or traded. They had sweat-stains under their arms and bags under their eyes. They were pale and huddled together in noticeably separate groups, sitting on the floor, perched on the shelves, or on the benches. Some groups were girls-only, most were boys-only. One was made up of kids Tommy Granger’s age, and they sat back-to-back as if fearing attack from all sides.

  He looked for Ida. She was the foremost in his mind. He had trouble finding any one face among the bruised, pale, ragged kids—he picked out one or two faces from Philip Nielson’s news reports, or from school or just seeing them around the park or shops. There was Xavier, from one of the Year Eight classes. And there was one of Xavier’s friends, a boy Zach only knew by the nickname Spud; and there was a girl named Jamie, who was always helping Mr. MacAuley at the grocery store, and twin brothers who were always riding their bikes up and down Maple Drive, Col and Carey . . .

  They were all looking at Zach, Ryder and Lex. Some moved so they could get a better view. One or two shifted so they were hidden behind shelves or their friends. Some looked openly hostile.

  But it was the kids who weren’t in groups that bothered Zach the most. Those ones sat listlessly to the sides, their gazes distant. They had stains on their clothes that showed they had wet themselves or soiled themselves. There were a few buckets in the corner, and their purpose was clear to Zach, who was grudgingly becoming glad of the cold temperature. The smell would have been unbearable otherwise—not to mention the hygiene issues . . .

  “What’s your name?” called one of the kids, a thin-looking boy.

  Zach answered for all of them.

  “I’m Zach Morgenstern. This is Ryder Hazelwood, and Lex—”

  “Alexis Eckles,” Lex intervened. “We’re here to rescue you.”

  Zach was taken aback by Lex’s sudden declaration. With the defection of Monster-boy, their plans had all gone out the window, and—well, he’d kind of supposed they weren’t really in a position to rescue anyone.

  He wasn’t the only one who thought so.

  Harrison snorted, loudly. “Rescue us?”

  “Yes.” Lex asked, stepping forwards. Zach could almost see her temper rising, flushing her cheeks and making her eyes flash. Even with her hands tied behind her back and limping, Lex could be intimidating. “Is that funny?”

  Harrison crossed his arms. “What makes you think you can rescue us? I mean, look at this!” He spread his arms. “I was sneaking out of the orphanage one night and saw a light coming up through a hole in the grounds. I went closer, and I saw people down there. I called out to them. Next thing I knew, there was this stinking rag over my nose and they were carrying me through these tunnels, all the way here! So who do you think you are? I mean, you’ve just been chucked in here by monsters. Monsters”—here he looked at Zach—“like your wonderful adopted brother. They’ve kidnapped you, just like the rest of us. You’re stuck in here. No one knows where any of us are. Rescue us? I mean—is that supposed to be a joke?”

  The boy was starting to get on his nerves. Zach had always preferred to fade into the background. He hated attention, and he hated confrontation even more. But now that Lex had voiced their intention—and for her, at least, that intention hadn’t altered in the slightest—he wondered if they could do it. They’d come all this way. They’d tricked the monsters into bringing them here. Even if Morton had ruined their original plan, they’d still found the Vanished kids.

  “Like Lex said,” Zach said loudly. “We’re here to get you out. If you want to get out. You can stay here and wait for them to do . . . whatever it is they’ve done to them.”

  He pointed to the listless kids, the ones who were staring into space.

  “No!” came a horrified gasp. Zach turned to Maryanne, who had covered her face with her hands. “I don’t want that.”

  Lex’s instincts as a journalist were kicking in, Zach could tell. She wanted the story. And she knew how to get it.

  “You need to tell us everything,” she said. “Everything you can remember is important. Just say whatever comes into your head, okay?”

  The girl gave a small smile, and seemed to warm to Lex, now that she had been told her story was important, perhaps invaluable. Zach could see how easily Monster-boy would have been coaxed into giving up his secrets for the Middleview Hills Academy News. He probably hadn’t even known he was doing it.

  “They take kids,” she said. “When they come back, they’re tired and sleepy. The more times they go, the more sleepy they are, until . . . sometimes they don’t come back at all. They took me last week. There was this room, like the hospital, but it smelled bad. I saw cages. Like in the zoo. There w
ere . . . there were kids in them.”

  “How many monsters were there?” Lex asked.

  Maryanne said miserably, “I couldn’t count them.”

  “More than five? Less than ten?” Lex prompted, and Maryanne brightened.

  “More than five. Some had horns, one had really big hands—the fingers were all joined together, like a duck’s feet, you know?”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I thought they’d put me in one of those cages. I didn’t want to go in there. They were too small to stand up in. I could see them—the other kids—and some of them were lying on the floor, not moving. So I was kind of glad when they put me on a bed instead, even though they put belts around my chest and my legs. They put sticky things on my forehead—” she tapped her temples, where fading red marks remained, just like the ones Zach had seen on Tommy’s forehead, “—and they had wires going out of them into computers and machines. One of them was counting my heartbeat because I could hear it beeping.

  “Then one of the monsters came up to me. He was saying, ‘I can’t find much in her,’ and I wondered what that meant, but then he said, ‘She’s not much of a fighter. No spark.’

  “Another one said that was a shame. I felt bad. Then they all looked at each other and one said: ‘This one’s tested unmanner—

  unfaber—un-father—’”

  “Unfavourably?” Lex suggested, and Maryanne nodded.

  “Does that mean I’m bad?”

  “It means that whatever they were looking for, you didn’t have it. That’s probably a good thing.”

  “But . . .” Maryanne shuddered. “If that’s what they want and I don’t have it, then why haven’t they let me go? They just took the straps off and brought me back here.”

  “I think they put you back in here because if they let you go, you’d just tell everyone about where you’d been and what you’d seen. But it’s interesting that there was something about you that meant they couldn’t do whatever it is they’re doing to the other kids.”