11

by James Phelan

  THE LAST

  THIRTEEN

  BOOK THREE

  JAMES PHELAN

  This one’s for my dad—JP.

  PREVIOUSLY

  Sam fights off Solaris with the help of Shiva, the Enterprise Agent working for the Academy. They discover this ‘Solaris’ is actually a rogue Agent, Stella, in disguise. Sam escapes down a train tunnel.

  He flies to Egypt with his school friend, Xavier Dark, and climbs the Great Pyramid of Giza. There he accidentally finds a key in the Star of Egypt and returns to the Academy.

  Sam’s nightmares reveal the identity of the next of the last 13—it is Gabriella, an Italian pop star. Sam goes to Rome to meet her. After convincing her of the prophecy, they flee from Agents in a nail-biting drive through the city streets.

  At the Vatican library, Gabriella finds a box from her dreams. Still pursued by Agents, they use a map from inside the box to lead them to the Pantheon. There, the real Solaris reveals himself in a deadly firefight.

  Gabriella finds a disc hidden in the floor of the Pantheon. Sam and Solaris finally come face to face, and Sam manages to overpower him and takes off on a stolen motorbike.

  As Sam leaves the city he is surrounded by German Guardians. Assuming they are there to protect him, Sam is stunned when they pull out weapons …

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Previously

  01

  02

  03

  04

  05

  06

  07

  08

  09

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  Copyright

  01

  SAM

  ‘Pull over! Now!’ yelled the Guardian hanging out the van in front of Sam, a dart pistol aimed squarely at his head.

  From the van on his left, someone fired a dart which glanced off the fuel tank of the scooter and Sam swerved wildly.

  ‘OK, OK!’ Sam shouted at his attackers. He eased off the Vespa’s throttle and began to slow down.

  So much for my rescue party … what do I do now?

  Through the open doors of the van ahead, Sam could see it was loaded with men. To his left, the same. Sam guessed he was outnumbered at least ten to one. The Guardians, guns raised, all wore the uniform of the German Guard, the wolf insignia emblazoned shamelessly on their shoulders.

  Traitors …

  As the scooter puttered along the deserted road, Sam could tell the leader was growing impatient. The Guardian tilted his head towards his pistol, his grey eyes unblinking. The gesture was clear: pull over—now—or get shot.

  Whatever you do, don’t let them get you into the van.

  Sam looked around at the farms that stretched out in both directions as far as he could see in the pale light of daybreak. There was a forest up ahead, marked by a wall of tall pines with the road punching a shadowy path through the middle.

  Sam continued his charade of trying to work out how to stop, knowing that at any moment they’d make him stop, with or without the scooter.

  Wait, is that . .?

  Ahead, beyond the van in front, on the road that wound around into the trees, Sam could see the dim lights of an approaching vehicle. It was a truck, a big one, heading their way.

  Hope.

  Sam gave the engine a little boost and then kicked the gear lever into neutral to give the impression that he was trying to come to a complete stop. The scooter coughed unhappily at the rough handling.

  The leading van sped up to increase its distance in front of Sam, then came to a halt further down the road. Two of the German Guardians piled out, dart pistols still aimed at Sam.

  Sam slowly squeezed the rear brake of the scooter. It was now travelling as slow as it would go before becoming unstable and threatening to tip. Even though the experience of riding bikes with his friend Bill was a long time ago, it was helping Sam have enough control of the scooter to pretend to be in trouble now. All those afternoons playing chicken with Bill’s uncle’s tractor were paying off.

  Playing chicken …

  Sam looked across the empty road. About two metres down a steep embankment, a wire fence surrounding a farm was just visible in the soft light. Sam could see the oncoming truck clearly now, it was just a few seconds away from him.

  Do it—go for it, Sam!

  In the blink of an eye, Sam slammed into second gear, revved the engine and dropped the clutch.

  VROOM!

  The ambling scooter burst into life, shooting forwards and to the left, swerving back into the middle of the road. Sam squeezed his eyes tight as he shot across the road in the tiny gap between the van behind and the huge truck roaring straight towards him. Its lights flashed and the horn blared loudly, the rush of air from the speeding truck almost knocking Sam off the scooter.

  Blood pounding in his ears and adrenalin pumping, Sam threw a look over his shoulder and saw that both vans had taken off in hot pursuit after his surprise manoeuvre. He surged ahead, towards the sloped gravel embankment on the other side of the road, when behind him …

  SMASH!

  Sam risked another glance to see that one van had clipped the truck’s semitrailer and had been violently twisted around on its side. Sam skidded to a halt to watch as the mess of metal and glass rolled and flipped, an unstoppable mechanical snowball that seemed to gather speed before ploughing into the second van. The impact propelled the vans through the air, before hitting the ground hard and shuddering to a stop on their sides. Sam heard the ear-piercing screech of the truck’s brakes, could smell the burning rubber of tyres locking hard. There was no movement from inside the vans.

  Sam egged the scooter on, willing himself away from the danger and destruction behind him. The Vespa’s engine redlined, revving as hard as it would go as he fumbled to find the right gear, the throttle fully open, picking up more speed down the embankment. He hit a bump, turning his rapid downwards momentum into full flight.

  ‘ARRRGGGGHHHHH!’

  He had expected to navigate through a gate or gap in the fence. But instead, Sam found himself flying through the air at speed, headed for the waist-high wire fence. He cringed, held on tight and hoped for the best.

  Sam winced as he felt the back tyre hitting the top wire. The crashlanding on the uneven, muddy surface rattled the teeth in Sam’s head but the thump of the landing seemed to jolt the little scooter back to life. He hit the throttle again and sped across the grassy field, swerving to miss a goat that looked up, stunned, staring into Sam’s eyes as he shot past.

  Sam looked over his shoulder one last time. The vans were now an eerie mess of lights and steam. He could make out the tiny silhouette of the truck driver, standing with his hands on his head. An approaching car was slowing to a stop.

  Sam continued onwards, the going easier on the flat ground, heading for the cover of the dark forest ahead. He soon found the fence on the other side of the paddock. He followed its length until he came to an open gate.

  In the forest, the ground was flat but blanketed in old pine needles and the scooter skittered wildly as Sam slowly navigated a way through the trees. His heart rate slowed a little, his head swimming with the shock of what had just happened.

  Why were they trying to kidnap me? First the Egyptian Gua
rdians, now these guys? Man, what about the others? Is everyone else safe?

  Sam rode on under the protection of the dense forest for a while. He kept the road that cut through the trees in his sights, waiting to join it again a few kilometres down the track when he was sure he was safe. It was harder going here, the tyres losing traction on the spongy forest floor, the canopy of the trees above shutting out the glare of the rising sun. Sam was grateful that the physical effort of keeping the scooter upright gave him little time to dwell on his narrow escape.

  Without warning, a low-hanging tree branch seemed to materialise out of nowhere, whipping into his face and knocking him clean off the bike. He was flat on his back, groaning, the feathery tops of the pine trees above him spinning in circles in the sky …

  02

  SAM’S NIGHTMARE

  I hear the honking of a horn and then a ding ding. There’s a tram and cars coming right towards us—

  I pull the boy backwards just as the tram flashes by in a squeal of steel brakes. I turn to face him, puzzled. I know him, but why is he here?

  ‘That was close!’ he yells, then to the departing tram, ‘Watch where you’re going next time!’ He turns to me, ‘Thanks, man.’

  I spin around, trying to get my bearings. Where are we? I look for road signs, at the cars and their numberplates … and catch a glimpse of the Brandenburg Gate in the distance. I remember it from my history class last year.

  I’m in Berlin.

  I cough from the car fumes clustering around us and shelter my eyes from the grit thrown up from the passing traffic.

  I blink away the dust.

  We’re alone inside a room. It looks like a lab. There are some large plastic tubs lined up on a stainless-steel counter.

  ‘There’s something here, I know it,’ the boy says. He rifles through them, full of anxiety and despair. ‘Here!’ he finds a rolled piece of tracing paper and turns to me with a smile.

  We’re running down a corridor, the paper in my hand. We’ve made it …

  I’m surrounded by darkness when there’s a loud bang and rushing air flattens me as I open my mouth to scream. I’m flying through the air, heading into the light, brighter and brighter until … I’m blinded by the sun, hearing my screams mingle with another’s. I look around and see I’m way up above the ground now, people below are small dots among the trees.

  I close my eyes for the inevitable crash to earth but suddenly I’m gliding slowly.

  I can fly?

  I open my eyes to see the boy, grinning, ‘It’s going to be OK, Sam,’ he laughs, almost hysterically.

  And the boy’s gone and it’s just me, slipping, sliding, falling … and I see him. Solaris. His masked face looms into mine as I push him away. But my arms are heavy, I can’t fight him off. He’s laughing at me, becoming bigger and louder as I try to get away. And then the fire comes for me, flames shooting so close I can feel my body burning.

  ‘Get away from me!’ I’m shouting but my voice is whipped away by the pounding wind. I’m plummeting through the air—twisting, turning, burning.

  No, not this way.

  Please.

  Despair washes over me as I fall without any hope of surviving.

  I curl my body inwards, making myself small, blocking out the flames and the rushing wind, and him, waiting for me.

  I’m crashing to earth, with nothing to save me from—

  Oblivion.

  03

  SAM

  ‘Sam?’

  Sam opened his eyes to see a figure kneeling next to him, shaking him awake.

  ‘Xavier?’ Sam said, his hand flying up to the dreamcatcher at his throat. He tugged at it, straining for room to breathe.

  ‘Yeah, man,’ Xavier replied. ‘We’ve got to get a move on, our clearance for take-off is in ten minutes.’

  ‘Take-off?’ Sam asked, sitting up and rubbing the grogginess from his tired eyes.

  ‘Yeah, ten minutes, so come on—we’ll have to run across the tarmac to make it in time.’

  ‘We’re … at an airport?’ Sam looked around and the hustle and bustle of people and their luggage flitting by came into focus.

  ‘Yeah …’ Xavier said. ‘Sam, you OK?’

  ‘Fine, yeah,’ Sam replied as he stood up, taking off the dreamcatcher and weighing it in his hand. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows he could see planes taxiing back and forth, a large cargo carrier taking off in the distance. He suddenly remembered the night before—Gabriella’s party in Rome, the chase through the subterranean levels of the Vatican, facing Solaris and evading those treacherous German Guardians, and now … ‘Where are we?’

  ‘Italy, of course.’

  ‘I mean, in what city?’

  ‘Just outside Siena. Are you OK? You said you got hit on the head.’

  Hit on the head? Then, it came flooding back. Sam had woken up in the forest and ridden back up to the road far enough past the mangled vehicles to stay out of sight. A few kilometres north he stopped at a petrol station and called Xavier, heading on to where Xavier said he’d pick him up and take him to … ‘Wait, where’d I say we had to go?’

  ‘Switzerland,’ Xavier said. ‘You rang me and said that you needed to get back to Switzerland as quickly as possible—that your friends would be worried about you but that their phone line was down. Are you OK to go? Our flight crew’s prepped to take us there in like …’

  He checked his watch.

  ‘Eight minutes. We gotta hustle.’

  Sam looked at Xavier’s watch, but his eyes were unseeing. His dream was flooding back to him—the street, the tram, the bustle of the crowd, and more—being in the air, the wind, the flames … and Xavier. The boy in the dream was Xavier!

  ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ Xavier said.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like you’ve just seen a ghost.’

  ‘Sorry … kinda the opposite, actually. About our trip to Switzerland …’ Sam looked at his friend. ‘Something tells me you feel like we need to be someplace else.’

  Xavier stopped mid-stride.

  Sam continued, ‘Like you might have an idea about where to go. Some other country?’

  ‘Really? I thought that was just my imagination working overtime in my dreams,’ Xavier said. He hesitated, squinting at Sam. ‘Is this like when I dreamed of helping you outside the museum in New York?’

  Sam nodded. ‘You know the “secret agent” stuff I told you about … well, it’s kind of true, but it has more to do with dreams than being James Bond. Although … the saving the world bit is actually part of the deal.’

  Xavier was, for once, speechless.

  ‘Let’s get on the plane, and I’ll tell you all about it. Deal?’ Sam smiled.

  ‘O … kay …’ Xavier mumbled.

  ‘I’m sorry to rush you but we’ve no time to lose. You up for this?’

  The world blurred past them as they stood in the open doorway to the airfield. Sam could see Xavier wrestling with himself as different emotions flickered across his face—disbelief, surprise, horror, excitement …

  ‘I guess we’re taking a quick detour to Berlin, then?’ Xavier finally smiled.

  Sam nodded again, as he slipped his dreamcatcher into the back of a passing cleaning cart.

  ‘Why’d you do that?’ Xavier said.

  ‘Because,’ Sam said, starting to walk across the tarmac, ‘it’s time to get off the grid. There are way too many people looking for me, and not many I can trust.’

  And I didn’t realise until this morning just how few that would be.

  04

  EVA

  ‘We can’t leave Sam,’ Eva said, breaking the silence. Next to her, Lora and Gabriella rode in quiet contemplation as they travelled in a three-vehicle convoy headed north, speeding towards a private airstrip near the Swiss border.

  ‘Sam gave us the chance to escape and now we need to take these,’ Lora gestured to the disc, book and key that Gabriella still clutched tightly to her, ‘to
the Academy, and the Professor,’ she replied. ‘We can’t risk something so valuable falling into Solaris’ hands.’ She looked meaningfully at Gabriella.

  ‘But how can Sam be safe without us?’ Eva objected. ‘You saw what it was like for all of us to come up against Solaris, let alone swarms of Enterprise Agents.’

  ‘He knows what he’s doing now,’ Lora said. ‘He’s smart enough to keep his head down and he’ll contact us if things start to get out of control—he’s not going to take on more than he can handle, not on his own.’

  Eva nodded but remained unconvinced. The terrifying scenes in Rome replayed in her mind as she shivered and drew her coat tighter.

  Yeah, he’ll keep his head down. If someone doesn’t take it clean off …

  ‘I think Sam will be fine,’ Gabriella said in her Italian-accented English. ‘He was amazing in Roma—always a step ahead of those who chased us. And back there at the temple, what he did to save me, he’s … he’s incredible!’

  Great, Eva thought, now some pop star thinks Sam’s amazing and incredible, he’s bound to be safe, right?

  Eva grimaced at her and nodded.

  How does she figure into all this anyway? Doesn’t she have enough of a life to lead without being one of the last 13? How do you go from entertaining the world to saving it?

  At the snowline in the foothills of the Italian Alps, the convoy pulled up at a small airstrip and everyone spilled out into the cold air.

  ‘Pit stop. The plane will be ready in five minutes,’ Lora called out.

  Eva trudged through the snow and got herself a hot chocolate from the battered machine in the hut-like lounge area and stood outside, looking absently at a wall map of the region.

  Her breath fogged out in front of her. She heard footsteps behind her, scrunching in the snow.

  ‘Would you believe, I’ve never been to the Alps,’ Gabriella mused, standing next to her.

  ‘You’re about to get a bird’s eye view,’ Eva replied flatly. ‘It’s pretty spectacular … if you’re not too jaded for that kind of thing.’