by H. I. Larry
‘Yes, Rock Star. That’s my Eruption Powder Bruce is sprinkling,’ said Dr Drastic in his nastiest voice. He dug out his pocket watch and consulted it.
‘The volcano will erupt in five minutes, exactly when the deadline runs out.’
Five minutes!
Things were as desperate as they had ever been.
‘And when the volcano erupts, I’ll have Bradley push the iceblock into the lava. Then you’ll follow. But since I created it, I’m going to save the pleasure of destroying Solution X for myself.’
Dr Drastic fumbled in the inside pocket of his lab coat. He pulled out a tiny jar of bright yellow liquid.
‘This is the last sample of Solution X,’ said Dr Drastic. ‘I’m going to destroy this, along with the formula.’
Dr Drastic waved a piece of notepaper in Zac’s face. The formula!
‘It makes me sad to destroy Solution X. It’s my greatest invention. A cure for any disease or sickness ever known.’
Dr Drastic sighed. ‘It’s just utterly magnificent, wouldn’t you say, Zac?’
But Zac wasn’t listening. He was thinking about what Dr Drastic had said. A cure for any disease or sickness ever known.
Wasn’t evil a kind of sickness? wondered Zac. Was it possible that Dr Drastic’s evilness might be cured by his very own invention?
Suddenly, Zac heard a gasping sound. It was coming from the volcano crater! The ground underneath him began to rumble and shake. Scalding hot steam hissed. Red-hot ash flew through the air.
It was the loudest sneeze Zac had ever heard. He knew at once what was happening.
The volcano was erupting!
Everything near Mount Humble was trying to get away as fast as possible. Even the animals were escaping down the mountain any way they could.
But not Dr Drastic. He stood, calm and silent, on the edge of the volcano crater. He was holding his tiny jar of Solution X. If only Zac could get hold of that jar!
If he was going to have any chance of that, first he’d need to break the vines that tied his wrists and ankles together. But there was no way Zac could reach his pocket-knife.
Just then, Zac felt something brush up against his feet. It was a rat, trying to escape the volcano. But unlike all the other animals, this rat wasn’t running. It was fat and lazy and its stomach dragged along the ground.
It was just what Zac needed!
He hopped carefully towards the rat.
Go on! Chew off those vines, he willed it.
The rat might have been lazy, but it definitely wasn’t stupid. It recognised food when it saw it. It bit into the vines around Zac’s ankles, then his wrists. In a few quick chews, Zac was free.
Zac sneaked up behind Dr Drastic, who was still standing on the very edge of the volcano. It would’ve been the easiest thing in the world to push him in. But Zac realised he couldn’t. He still had to get Dr Drastic to tell him the secret formula.
Suddenly, Dr Drastic drew his arm back. He was about to throw his jar of Solution X into the volcano!
Zac sprang forward. He took a jump. He was like a football super-star!
As if in slow motion, Zac snatched the jar as it spun through mid-air. He cracked open the top and poured the whole lot over Dr Drastic!
For a second, Dr Drastic just stood there with yellow goo dripping down his forehead. Then he spoke. His voice was nothing like the icy, terrifying voice he used before. Now he sounded friendly but slightly confused, like a grandpa woken too early from his nap.
Bruce and Bradley rushed over to help.
‘What have you done to him, you moron?’ asked Bruce, looking at Zac.
‘No, Bruce. It’s OK. Zac’s my friend!’ said Dr Drastic.
Bradley looked at Bruce, confused. But Bruce just shrugged. If the boss said Zac was his friend, then Zac was his friend.
‘Don’t you know you’re in terrible danger, Zac? We’re standing on top of an erupting volcano!’
Solution X had worked! Zac had cured Dr Drastic’s evilness.
‘I know,’ said Zac. ‘But I can’t go until you tell me the formula for Solution X.’
‘Oh, well. That’s easy! To the frog poison, you simply add …’ And he rattled off a very long list of chemicals.
Zac tried his hardest to memorise it.
‘And don’t forget the most important ingredient, NaCl(aq),’ said Dr Drastic. ‘Solution X won’t work without aqueous sodium chloride — good old sea water!’
A jet of steam whooshed out of the volcano. Zac nodded. He couldn’t stand around for one more second memorising formulas. That would have to do.
‘How do we escape from here, Dr Drastic?’ asked Zac.
‘Take a hang-glider. They’re just over there. I’ve got plenty,’ said Dr Drastic.
Zac raced over to a row of hang-gliders. Then he remembered Leon. How was he going to rescue his brother when he was still frozen solid in a block of ice? He looked over at Leon.
Leon was waving! On one side, the volcano had melted the iceblock enough to free Leon’s arm.
Zac grabbed hold of the hang-glider. He took a big run up. Wind rushed under the wings.
Zac was flying!
Zac circled over the volcano, then swooped back down. Leon must have understood Zac’s plan perfectly. As Zac flew overhead, Leon held his free arm up as high as he could. Zac grabbed his hand. The entire iceblock lifted off the ground.
But almost as soon as they were airborne, the hang-glider began to drop downwards.
Oh no, Zac thought. The block of ice is too heavy to fly!
They were falling straight towards the volcano crater! The lower they fell, the hotter it got. They were dropping faster and faster!
Leon’s feet were almost in the lava.
But just when Zac thought they would surely frizzle, the hang-glider suddenly rose again. Up and up it climbed, right out of the volcano crater.
Zac looked down. Flying so deep into the volcano had melted the iceblock completely. Leon was free and the hangglider was light enough to fly again.
On the ground, they could just make out the tiny figure of Dr Drastic escaping Mount Humble in one of his hang-gliders. He gave Zac a friendly wave goodbye.
Zac and Leon soared away, high above Poison Island. A few minutes later, they touched down on the deck of a large ship. It was GIB’s Mission Control, anchored off the coast of Poison Island. Their parents were waiting for them onboard.
‘Mission accomplished, boys?’ asked his dad proudly.
‘Uh-huh,’ said Zac, acting cool.
His mum gave him a big sloppy kiss.
‘Mu-um!’ he groaned, wiping it off.
The floating Mission Control was linked via satellite to the mainland HQ.
‘Zac, do you have the formula for Solution X?’ crackled a voice through the computer screen. It was GIB’s Commander-in-Chief on the line.
‘I do, Commander,’ he said confidently. ‘It’s —’
Oh no, the formula! What was it again?
Zac racked his brains.
He had it! He rattled off the very long list of chemicals Dr Drastic had added to the frog poison. Then he remembered there was one last, critical ingredient.
What was it?
‘Leon?’ he whispered.
‘Yup?’ said Leon, his lips still blue from being inside the iceblock.
‘I can’t remember the last part of Solution X,’ he admitted.
‘That’s OK,’ said Leon. ‘While I was frozen, I studied Dr Drastic as he was making the formula.’
So that explained the look of concentration Zac had noticed on Leon’s frozen face!
‘The last ingredient is NaCl(aq).’
Zac was amazed. He’d never realised how useful a geeky brother could be!
The Commander interrupted them. ‘Good job, Leon,’ he said. ‘And especially well done to you, Zac.’
Zac tried his best to look modest.
‘Of course, everything you’ve told us about what happened on Poison Island m
ust remain top-secret. The quicksand. The cave-in. The piranhas. Everything.’
Zac slumped. How boring!
‘But just because you can’t boast to your friends about this, doesn’t make what you’ve any done less important,’ said the Commander.
Zac thought about it. He guessed that was true. He’d just have to get used to being an ordinary kid for a while, doing his homework and taking Espy for walks. Still, he’d have heaps of time to practise his guitar solos. Then maybe one day he’d have thousands of fans screaming his name.
Now that, thought Zac with a grin, would be really cool.
Poison Island
published in 2013 by
Hardie Grant Egmont
Ground Floor, Building 1, 658 Church Street
Richmond, Victoria 3121, Australia
www.hardiegrantegmont.com.au
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means
without the prior permission of the publishers and copyright owner.
A CiP record for this title is available from the National Library of Australia.
eISBN: 9781743580240
Text copyright © 2006 H.I. Larry
Illustration and design copyright © 2013 Hardie Grant Egmont
Cover and Illustrations by Craig Phillips
Cover design by Simon Swingler