Raven_s Gate pof-1

by Anthony Horowitz

  The huge hand unfolded. All the light in the chamber was blotted out as the giant fingers stretched.

  The hand was all around the scientist. He let out a thin scream of delight, which in an instant turned to terror as he realized what was about to happen. The hand closed on him and crushed him. Sir Michael Marsh died horribly, in the grip of the creature he had served all his life.

  And then the reactor, pushed beyond its limits, disintegrated. A blinding, searing, fantastic light burst out, as bright as the sun itself: the light of an atomic explosion.

  A huge mushroom cloud sprouted out of the ground. Man’s most dreadful creation ran wild. Spiralling upwards, it rushed towards the night sky, carrying with it enough deadly radiation to destroy half of England.

  But the gate was open.

  The vacuum had to be filled.

  The atomic energy recoiled, drawn back into the gate that it had itself helped to open. The mushroom had risen far above the ground but now it was pulled down again, while at the same time the smoke and deadly gases were dragged back into the chasm that had been broken between the two worlds.

  The creature itself was engulfed, flailing helplessly as it was sucked down like a spider into a gigantic plughole. It was trapped in a torrent of pure light that swirled round and round it, forming a whirlpool from which there could be no escape. A curtain of molten red flooded across, then dimmed and died away. Slowly the black and white squares of the reactor floor shimmered and began to reappear. The creature was gone. The gate had been resealed.

  Two miles away, Richard and Matt, coughing and shivering, were spat out of an underground cavern and, reaching the bank, pulled themselves on to dry land. On the horizon, a ripple of pink spread across the night sky as the sun began its climb over the edge of the world.

  At last, it was over.

  THE MAN FROM PERU

  “ The Times?”

  “Nothing.”

  “The Daily Telegraph?”

  “Nothing.”

  “The Daily Mail?”

  “Nothing.”

  “The Independent?”

  “Nothing.”

  “ Le Monde?”

  “I don’t know. It’s in French.”

  “There has to be something, somewhere.”

  Matt and Richard were sitting at the kitchen table in the journalist’s York flat. Each had a pair of scissors and a mug of tea. More than a week had passed since their escape from Omega One, and both of them had changed. Matt carried a scar on the side of his face, a souvenir of the National History Museum, but he was looking a little less pinched and tired. Staying with Richard, sleeping late, watching TV and generally doing very little had obviously been good for him. As for Richard, he was more optimistic, more organized. He still found it hard to believe that he had actually survived. And he was certain he was about to sell the greatest story ever written. It wouldn’t just be a case of “hold the front page”. His story would run on every page.

  They were surrounded by newspapers and magazines that they had checked through, from first page to last. They had done this every day. And always it was the same.

  “How many more do we have to read?” Matt asked.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” Richard said. “I mean, there must be a mention of it somewhere. You can’t have a nuclear explosion in the middle of Yorkshire without somebody noticing.”

  “You’ve got that clipping from the Yorkshire Post.”

  “Oh sure!” Richard plucked a scrap of newspaper off the fridge door, where it had been held in place with a magnet. “Two column inches about a bright light seen over the woods near Lesser Malling. A bright light – that’s what they call it! And they stick it on page three next to the weather reports.”

  For the past seven days Richard had been monitoring the news in the press, on the radio and on the television. He was completely bewildered. It was as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever taken place. Structural engineers were still investigating the damage done to the Natural History Museum. Millions of pounds’ worth of dinosaur fossils had been destroyed – but nobody had mentioned Professor Sanjay Dravid, who must surely have been found dead in the middle of it. Likewise, the death or disappearance of Sir Michael Marsh. Here was a man who had once been an influential government scientist, who had received a knighthood. Yet there were no obituaries, no comment, nothing. He might as well have never existed.

  And what of Richard’s story?

  He had written it in the space of twenty-four hours. To start with he had kept it simple, confining it to ten pages, outlining very broadly what had happened. Matt had insisted that his name be left out. He knew what he had done but he still wasn’t quite sure how he had done it… And the truth was, he didn’t want to know. He had finally managed to find the power to stop the knife and to break out. But he remembered very little of it. One moment he was lying on the slab. The next he was fighting Mrs Deverill over the acid bath. What had happened was like a hideous dream. It was as if he had been taken over.

  As far as Matt was concerned, he never wanted to mention Jayne Deverill or Raven’s Gate again. And he certainly didn’t want to end up on the front page of the world’s newspapers. Some sort of superhero. Some sort of freak.

  In the end Richard had agreed to give him a false name. It was the easiest way. He hadn’t mentioned the LEAF Project either. It would have made it too easy to identify Matt – and anyway, it was something else Matt didn’t want to see in print.

  The ten-page story had been sent to every newspaper in London. That had been three days ago. Since then, half of them had written back.

  Dear Mr Cole,

  The editor wishes to thank you for your submission, received on 4 May. We regret, however, that we do not feel it is suitable for publication.

  Yours sincerely…

  All of them were more or less the same. Short and to the point. They didn’t give any reason for turning him down. They simply didn’t want to know.

  Matt knew that Richard was frustrated and angry. He hadn’t expected people to believe everything he had written. After all, a lot of it was beyond belief. But at the same time, somebody must have been asking what had happened at the museum and at the power station. There was a giant crater in the woods where Omega One had once stood. Lesser Malling was now empty. How could an entire village simply disappear overnight? There were a hundred questions hanging in the air – and Richard’s article provided at least some of the answers. Why did nobody want to publish it?

  There was also an unspoken worry between the two.

  Matt knew that he was living on borrowed time. Mrs Deverill was dead and any minute now the authorities in London would take note of the fact that she had disappeared and wonder what had happened to him. The LEAF Project would reclaim him and he would be sent somewhere else. It was obvious that he couldn’t stay with Richard much longer. Although there was enough room in the flat for the two of them, a fourteen-year-old boy couldn’t move in with a twenty-five-year-old man he’d only known for a matter of weeks. Worse still, Richard was out of cash. He hadn’t shown up for work for a week and as a result he’d lost his job on the Gazette. The editor hadn’t even sent him a letter. His dismissal was simply announced on the front page: JOURNALIST FIRED. Richard couldn’t help being gloomy. If he wasn’t going to have an award-winning scoop, he would need to find work. He had mentioned that he might go back to London.

  “You know what I think,” Richard said suddenly.

  “What?”

  “I think somebody is doing all this on purpose. I think somebody’s put a D-notice on the story.”

  “What’s a D-notice?”

  “It’s a government thing. Censorship. When they don’t want a story to get into the papers for reasons of national security.”

  “You think they know what happened?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.” Richard crumpled a newspaper into a ball. “All I know is that somebody should have said something and I can’t believe t
hat no one has.”

  The doorbell rang. Richard went over to the window and looked down.

  “Postman?” Matt suggested.

  “No. It looks like a tourist. He’s probably lost.” A lot of tourists went past the flat, but it was unusual for one to ring the bell. “I’ll go down and get rid of him,” said Richard, and left the room.

  Matt finished his tea and rinsed his mug in the sink. At last he had begun to sleep properly again – and there hadn’t been any more dreams. And yet, even so, he knew that they were still waiting for him, the four children on the beach. Three boys and a girl. With him, that made five.

  One of the Five.

  That was what this had all been about: four boys and a girl, who had saved the world once and who would return to do it again. At the museum, Matt had told Richard what he believed – that he was one of them.

  Yet how could that be possible when they had lived thousands of years ago? Matt had some sort of power. That much was obvious. But it wasn’t something he could control and, as far as he was concerned, he never wanted to see it or use it again. He sank his head into his hands. He had never been in control of his life… not for as long as he could remember. And right now he felt more out of control than ever.

  Richard came back into the room, accompanied by a man dressed in a pale suit. He was certainly foreign, with very black hair, olive-coloured skin and dark eyes, but he didn’t look like a tourist. He was carrying an expensive leather briefcase and appeared to be more like a businessman – some sort of international lawyer perhaps.

  “This is Mr Fabian,” Richard said. “At least, that’s what he says his name is.”

  “Good morning, Matt. I’m very glad to meet you.” Fabian’s voice was soft. He pronounced each word carefully, with a strong Spanish accent.

  “Mr Fabian has read my article,” Richard continued. “He’s from the Nexus.”

  The Nexus. The secret organization that both Miss Ashwood and Professor Dravid had mentioned before Dravid was killed.

  “What do you want?” Matt demanded. He’d had enough. He just wanted to leave this all behind.

  Fabian sighed. “Do you mind if I sit down?” he asked.

  Richard gestured to a chair.

  Fabian took it. “Thank you, Mr Cole. First of all, let me say, Matthew, that I am very glad – indeed very honoured – to meet you. I know what you’ve been through. I hope you are fully recovered.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Richard growled.

  Fabian turned to him. “You were, of course, at the Natural History Museum when Professor Dravid was killed,” he said. “I would be interested to know how it was that you survived.”

  Richard shrugged. “It was the ribcage,” he said. “I was trapped underneath a dinosaur skeleton. The ribcage protected me from the falling bricks, and Mrs Deverill dug me out.” He stopped. “You say you’ve read my article. So maybe you can tell me something. How come nobody wants it?”

  Fabian sighed apologetically. “As a matter of fact, that’s the reason why I’m here, Mr Cole,” he explained. “My organization has prevented your story from being published. It is our job to ensure that it never sees the light of day.”

  “What?” Richard stared at his visitor with anger and disbelief. “You’re telling me that the Nexus-”

  “I am really very sorry. I know it must be extremely frustrating.”

  “Frustrating! Are you out of your mind?” Richard cast an eye over the table and Matt was glad there wasn’t a kitchen knife at hand.

  “We can’t allow your story to get into print, Mr Cole.”

  “Why not? And how did you stop me?”

  “As to your second question, I’m sure Sanjay Dravid already told you. We have a great deal of influence. We know people… in government, in the police, in the Church. We advise them. And in this case we advised them not to publish your material.”

  “Why not?” Richard thundered.

  “Please, Mr Cole.” Fabian could see the fury in the journalist’s eyes. “Let me try to explain.” He waited a moment while Richard calmed down. “Let us start by admitting that your story is completely unbelievable. Witches and phantom dogs? Supernatural creatures called the Old Ones? A boy” – he pointed at Matt – “with some sort of magical power?”

  “It happened exactly how Richard described it,” Matt said, coming to his friend’s defence.

  “Did it? The police have been sniffing around for the last seven days and they have found precious little to support your version of events. It is true that the villagers seem to have packed their bags and gone. And Omega One is now in ruins. But, to give you just one example, if there really had been an explosion there, how is it that no sign of radioactive fallout has been found anywhere in the area?”

  “I explained in the article,” Richard said wearily. “We reckon that all the radioactive particles must have got sucked back into the gate.”

  “Ah yes. Raven’s Gate. That’s the most ridiculous part of all. You write that there was some sort of stone circle that nobody in the world had ever heard of…”

  “Professor Dravid had heard of it,” Matt said.

  “Sanjay Dravid has gone.”

  “Wait a minute.” Richard slammed a hand down on the table. “You’re part of the Nexus. You know I’m telling the truth. So why are you pretending otherwise?”

  Fabian nodded. “You’re right. I thought I’d made that clear from the start. Of course I believe you.”

  Richard’s head was spinning. “So why do you want to cover it up?”

  “Because this is the twenty-first century and the one thing that people cannot live with is uncertainty. Where there is terrorism, people need to know that the police are in control. When new diseases appear, they expect science to find cures. We live in an age when there is no room for the impossible.”

  “But you believe in the impossible.”

  “Yes. But why do you think we have to keep our organization secret? Because people would think we were mad, Mr Cole. That is why. One of our members is a senator in the Democratic Party in America. He would be voted out immediately if he began speaking about the Old Ones. Another is a multibillionaire, working in the field of computer software. She supports us and believes in us, although her shares would plummet if that were known. I have a wife and children. But even they do not know why I am here.”

  He turned to Matt.

  “Although you will not be aware of it,” he said, “the LEAF Project knows that you are no longer in Mrs Deverill’s care. We could tell them where you are. One word from us and you would be back in their custody.”

  Matt’s heart sank. So it had happened, exactly as he had feared.

  But then Richard surprised him. “Nobody’s taking Matt anywhere,” he snapped. “He’s staying here with me.”

  “That is exactly what we have arranged.” Fabian smiled for the first time. “You see? We have already spoken to the right people and it has all been dealt with. We can help you. And you can help us. We can work together.”

  “How can I help you?” Matt asked.

  “I’m afraid your role in this is not yet over,” Fabian replied. “Sanjay Dravid spoke about you. He thought your appearance was the single most remarkable event of his lifetime.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he believed you were one of the Five.”

  And there it was again. One of the Five.

  Matt sighed. “That’s what you keep saying. But what does it mean?”

  “Five children saved the world. Five children will save it again. It’s part of a prophecy, Matt. What happened here in Yorkshire was only the start. The Nexus will be called together again and you will have to meet us all. Until then, we ask only that you remain here. And tell no one. We must keep these matters to ourselves.”

  There was a long silence.

  “That’s all very well,” Richard said. “But how am I supposed to look after him? Since the Nexus knows everything, you may have noticed
that I’m out of a job. And shouldn’t Matt be at school? He can’t just sit around here with me!”

  “We can easily arrange a local school for Matt,” Fabian replied. “Anything you need or want we can get for you.” He produced a business card and slid it across the table. “As for your living expenses, we can look after that too.” He clicked open the briefcase and took out a thick envelope, which he handed to Richard. The journalist glanced inside it and whistled. “That’s five thousand pounds, Mr Cole. Think of it as a first payment. When you need more, you only need to call.”

  Fabian stood up. He held out a hand to Matt, who shook it unwillingly.

  “I cannot tell you what a great pleasure it has been to meet you,” Fabian said. “We will meet again in London very soon.” He seemed to be about to leave, but then he turned back and his eyes were troubled. “Perhaps I shouldn’t tell you this,” he said. “But you will have to know eventually and I think my friend Professor Dravid would have wanted me to tell you.” He took a breath. “We believe there may be a second gate.”

  “What?” Matt was stunned.

  “I live in Lima. In Peru. It is the reason why I was chosen to visit you today. There is evidence that another gate exists in my country. It may be that I will have to invite you there.”

  “You must be joking,” Matt said. “I’ve done my bit. I don’t want to know any more.”

  “I can understand that, Matt. Just remember – the Nexus is on your side. We exist only to be your friends.” He nodded at Richard. “Please don’t get up, Mr Cole. I can show myself out.”

  For ten minutes neither of them spoke.

  “Well,” Richard said at last. The cash was spread out on the table in front of him. “At least that solves the money problem.”

  “A second gate…” Matt had gone pale. He looked suddenly tired.

  “It’s got nothing to do with you,” Richard said.

  “It’s got everything to do with me, Richard. I know that now. I thought it was all over when the power station was destroyed. But I was wrong. It’s like that man said – it was just the start.”