Hugo lifted the empty mug from the boy’s hand and placed it on the tray. Unbeknown to Hugo and the boys, the drinks the Professor had made for them had been drugged and by the time they had drunk them they had all collapsed in their beds fast asleep.
‘They fell asleep quickly tonight,’ commented Hugo, when he arrived in the living room. There was an aroma of coffee that the Professor was slowly sipping and, beside his usual chair, Hugo noticed the Professor had also made him a drink.
‘You deserve one too,’ said the Professor, smiling.
Hugo sat on the opposite side of the room and relaxed while sipping his drink. The Professor mentioned the convention, while Hugo listened politely. Within a few minutes, the Professor noticed that Hugo was struggling to hold his eyes open and soon collapsed back on the chair with his head tilted to the side. The Professor acted quickly. He rose from his chair and headed upstairs into the bedroom of the boy’s, carrying an empty bag.
‘I’m sorry, but I have no choice,’ he apologised, although the sleeping child could not hear him.
Switching on the light, the Professor headed over to the chest of drawers in the corner of the room. Opening each drawer in turn, he chose a selection of clothes and personal items to pack. Once the bag was full, to the point where he couldn’t physically put anything else inside it, he went back downstairs, opened the front door and strode towards the car. He loaded the bag on to the front seat before going back for the boy.
Back upstairs he lifted the boy’s limp body from the bed and into his arms, holding the child tight, before carrying him downstairs and outside to the car, where he laid him on the back seat in what looked like a comfortable position. He looked at his watch; it was eleven thirty. He had half an hour to meet his buyer.
With everything organised, the Professor got into the car and turned the key. The engine roared with life as he slowly drove away. He travelled along winding country roads for twenty miles before taking a right turn into an obscure car park. The cold wind had increased, causing the branches of the trees to be tossed in every direction and the leaves to shake furiously, as if the weather itself was angry with the Professor’s actions.
In the far corner of the car park, he saw another car and nodded grimly, wondering how long the occupant had been waiting. He glanced at his watch; it was a minute past the hour. He wasn’t late. The Professor parked alongside the other car. The other driver was already standing outside to meet him.
‘Good evening, Professor. I’m pleased to see you kept your side of the bargain. I thought from our heated discussion earlier that you might have changed your mind.’ The man’s voice was courteous and he had a very powerful presence. His dark sunglasses hid his eyes and his body blended perfectly with the night since he was dressed all in black. ‘What a delightful performance you and Professor Kyle had arranged today. It was absolutely outstanding.’
‘Thank you,’ said the Professor curtly.
‘So whom did you decide to sell? The artist? The electronic genius? Or perhaps it was the flying stuntman? All of the children are incredibly gifted and worth their weight in gold.’
‘I know and I’ve written his full name and other details on a piece of paper inside this envelope.’ The Professor took a deep breath and handed the envelope over. He couldn’t quite believe he was going through with this. ‘It has everything you need to know. His favourite breakfast cereal, his favourite games…’
‘Yes, well thank you. I’m sure it will be most helpful,’ smiled the man, cutting off the Professor. ‘Anyway I’ve been waiting here long enough. I shall take him now.’
As the Professor opened the back of the car, the man’s lips broadened into a smile. ‘I had hoped it might be him. Was it an easy decision?’
‘What do you think?’ snarled the Professor. ‘I’ve raised the boys like my children.’
‘Yes, but they’re not yours, are they? You stole them from a woman and now you are selling one to me. I think you have come out of this deal extremely well, don’t you?’
The Professor glared hard at the man. ‘Look after him.’
‘Oh, I will,’ said the man. ‘As if he were my own.’
The Professor declined all offers of help to carry the chosen boy into the waiting car. He wanted to feel the warmth of the child’s skin in his arms one last time. His heart was breaking, under this terrible strain. But what choice did he have?
As soon as the boy was secured on the back seat and his bag placed in the boot, the man was ready to leave. ‘I’ll call you if I need you.’
The Professor nodded. ‘You have my number.’
As the car drove away the Professor’s stern expression faded and he collapsed where he was standing, falling hard on to his knees. He placed his hands over his face and wept. Why did I do it? Why? Couldn’t we have managed another way? But as the roar of the vehicle faded in the distance the Professor knew it was already too late. The trade was done. He had sold his ‘so-called’ son for a million pounds.
12
The Lie
Ed moaned loudly in his sleep. Something was disturbing him – tugging at his body and whispering in his ear. It took him longer than usual to wake up this morning. He felt groggy and was suffering with a terrible headache.
‘Ed! Wake up!’ Riley’s hands were shaking Ed’s shoulders as he tried to wake his brother.
‘What’s the time?’ groaned Ed, who was still half asleep. He opened one eye, then the other.
‘Forget the time,’ snapped Riley, his eyes were dark and overcast with concern.
The sharpness of his tone alerted Ed, who sat up quickly, rubbed his eyes before holding his head, which felt as if it were going to explode. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Will’s not here! And some of his things have gone too!’
‘Well, he can’t be far away,’ said Ed, calmly. ‘Have you checked outside?’
‘Yes,’ said Riley, ‘I’ve checked everywhere, but he’s not here. Something bad has happened to him. And Dad and Hugo have been talking in the study with a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door. I’m itching to barge in there, but Dad will go ballistic, I know he will.’
The boys both jumped when, at that moment, there was a knock on the door. The Professor entered the room, followed by Hugo, who had a swollen red face and eyes as if he had been in a fight. Something was terribly wrong. There was a foreboding moment of silence before the Professor spoke.
‘I’m sorry, boys, but something awful occurred in the early hours of this morning.’
Afraid to interrupt, the boys listened carefully.
‘I knew there was a small risk in allowing you to go to the demonstration yesterday, but I honestly thought you would all be safe. If I had known something like this would happen I would never have suggested it – you must believe me! Unfortunately, I must now pay the terrible price for my decision.’
The boys glanced at one another, wondering what had happened and where their brother was. Surely he should be there with them, listening to what their father was to say.
‘This isn’t very easy for me,’ continued the Professor. ‘Your brother caught an infection during the night and was struggling to breathe. He must have touched someone he shouldn’t have.’
Riley and Ed both remembered Will’s encounter with Ruby the day before.
‘Will was infected with a strain of bacteria that attacked his lungs. As soon as I realised that something was wrong, I rushed him to hospital. Things were looking better; he was improving for a while.’
‘Where is Will?’ asked Ed, anxiously.
‘What’s happened to him?’ Riley butted in.
‘At three o’clock this morning, he stopped breathing.’ The Professor stepped forward and rested his hands on the boys’ shoulders. ‘I’m sorry to have to tell you both this, but your brother died. We tried everything but he didn’t respond …’
The rest of the Professor’s words went unheard. At the words, your brother died, Ed and Riley’s previously solid world crumbled to d
ust, leaving them both speechless and shell shocked. Everything else was insignificant compared with this terrible news, which engulf them in a deep black hole.
Their brother was dead.
Dead!
It was unbelievable!
They turned to each other, faces white. Riley stood rigid, whereas Ed swayed, his legs threatening to buckle beneath him. Riley grabbed hold of his brother and wrapped his arms around him, a rock of support and a shoulder to cry on, creating comfort in the midst of such tragic news.
Riley had woken that morning sensing that something was wrong and that Will was somehow connected. He had been right. Hugo was fiddling nervously with his fingers and he realised now why the giant’s face was so swollen and blotchy – he had been crying. Riley had never seen Hugo cry, but then they had never lost a family member before. Hugo was staring at the floor, as if he were praying for Will to reappear from the carpet like a genie from a lamp and suddenly hurried from the room as if escaping from a noxious smell. Riley turned to his father, whose eyes were red and who had aged twenty years overnight.
The Professor appeared to want to say more, but instead made a croaking sound and, resting his hand on Riley’s shoulder, gave it a squeeze and followed Hugo, leaving the two boys alone in Ed’s bedroom.
Riley guided Ed to his bed where they both sat. Riley retrieved some tissues from the bedside cabinet and passed them to his distraught brother, who blew his nose loudly.
‘I can’t believe that Will is dead!’ sobbed Ed. ‘Why weren’t we infected too? We went everywhere that he did.’
‘It must have happened when he touched Ruby’s hand,’ suggested Riley, his voice soft and low. ‘He could have caught something then. That’s the only thing I can think of.’
‘But Will’s immune system is stronger than ours,’ Ed pointed out. ‘Dad always says so. He never catches colds like you and me.’ Realising that he was speaking of his brother in the present tense, Ed fell silent.
Heavy-hearted, Riley stared at the wall. ‘I can’t believe Will has gone either.’ He slowly rose and went to the window. ‘I expect him to burst into this room at any moment and laugh at something that he’s done.’
‘How could something like this happen?’ Ed turned away from the window, lay on his side, buried his face deep into the pillow and cried.
Riley watched him enviously, for he had no idea how to express his emotions and had never shed a tear in his entire life. But right now it felt as if a tornado were spinning loose inside his mind and body. He often appeared cold and unsympathetic, but it didn’t mean Will’s death was affecting him any less. It was hard coping with a bubbling pool of emotions that had no outlet through which to be expressed.
With his brother struggling with his grief, Riley left to go to his room.
Over the coming week, life was awkward for everyone. Will’s absence had created a void in the house, leaving it lifeless and quiet without his constant stream of chatter or squeals of delight as he swung around the room. Hugo especially missed the games they had so often played.
Ed found he hadn’t enough energy to get out of bed. He remained there and thought of nothing else but Will. At some point he would drift off to sleep and when he awoke he would think for a moment that the news of Will’s death had been nothing but a bad dream. Then reality would hit him once more.
Will was usually the comedian and, without his jokes, the light in the house dimmed further as the days wore on. Over time no one was feeling any better. In fact, they were beginning to feel a whole lot worse.
Within the same week, something very serious started to happen to Riley and Ed, who began to suspect that they were dying from the same infection that they thought had killed their brother. Their muscles ached and tiredness set in. Simple tasks, such as walking short distances or lifting a drink, had become impossible. All they could do was lie in bed.
The Professor was confounded since he knew the truth concerning Will, who had been sent to live somewhere else.
When bizarre things started happening to the boys’ skin the Professor became increasingly worried. The first sign that something was wrong was when the boys started to itch. It was an annoying itch, which grew progressively worse throughout the day. The next morning their skin felt rough and dry. On the third day it began to peel off in large patches in a repulsive manner. Every morning, the boys woke to find great quantities of dry flaky skin covering their beds.
Then the Professor received a telephone call from Peter Peed.
‘Young William is shredding his skin,’ Peter informed him. ‘I thought you should know in case it happens to the others.’
‘It already has,’ the Professor informed him. ‘I didn’t realise what it was at first.’
‘William was very ill for a number of days before he began to feel better,’ said Peter. ‘How are the other two coping without their brother?’
‘Fine,’ lied the Professor. ‘Just fine.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Is there anything you wanted to ask about the boy?’
‘I … um … no,’ said the Professor. ‘He’s dead to us now. I will not cause more pain to my two remaining children. Life continues and people must move with it.’
‘Wise words,’ commented Peter Peed, with a hint of annoyance in his tone. ‘Well, I shall tell you anyway. William has taken longer to settle in here than I expected. I was in half a mind of whether to bring him back to you …’
‘No! You can’t!’ said the Professor quickly.
‘Why not?’
‘Because as I have already explained to you, he’s dead to us. I have told everyone that he died.’
‘What?’ There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. ‘That’s crazy! Absurd! Why the devil did you do that?’
‘Because I don’t want anything from you. Seeing Will with you would upset me. It’s best he makes a new life with you.’
‘Well, it didn’t have to be this way. You’ve made things very awkward for me. I hope you are happy with yourself.’
‘What was I meant to say?’ growled the Professor. ‘How could I have told them that I sold their brother?’
‘Because its the truth. If you can’t be honest with yourself, what kind of man are you? A coward? You have chosen to hide behind a wed of lies! It was your decision and like I said before – I hope you can live with yourself!’
The Professor hung up abruptly and rubbed his forehead. He couldn’t help but groan in frustration, unaware of a looming presence lingering behind the door that moved quietly away.
13
Peter Peed
Will’s first day in his new home was the strangest experience he could ever recall. He woke up feeling terribly groggy with his head pounding like a rumbling train. He opened his eyes and yawned. Realising that he did not recognise the room he was in, he sat up fast, thinking hard. But for all his questions, he had no answers. He frowned.
‘How did I get here?’ he thought, casting his mind back to the previous evening.
Hugo had entered his room to give him that delicious mug of hot chocolate. Funnily enough, he couldn’t remember Hugo leaving. This left him wondering how he had been moved without his waking up. More to the point, who had moved him? And where was he? Whose house was this? Why was he there? Where was his family? Were they in this house as well? Of course, they must be here somewhere. He wouldn’t be here alone, surely.
Despite his worries, the huge, square room was pleasing to the eye. Will liked what he saw; everything was so clean. The huge bed in which he had obviously slept was covered in gleaming white sheets, which shone in the dazzling light that slanted through a narrow gap in the long blue curtains.
Will slipped out of bed. His bare feet tickled on contact with the soft, thick carpet as he wobbled with uncertainty towards a wooden chair a few feet away from the bed. There was a bag resting on it – his bag. Inside he discovered his clothes and personal items.
‘How
strange! I don’t remember packing my things,’ he thought.
It’s unnerving to wake up in an unfamiliar place with no idea how you have arrived there. The fact that he hadn’t woken or stirred on the journey puzzled him.
Although he was a little unsettled, the excitement of being somewhere new soon overcame his nerves. At the window, he opened the curtain a fraction. Not a cloud could be seen in the endless blue sky and a carpet of green grass stretched in every direction. A border of majestic trees surrounded a massive garden.
‘It’s better than Professor Kyle’s garden,’ Will thought in awe.
His garden at home was tiny compared to this; this one must be at least a hundred times bigger. It was awesome and Will wished his brothers were with him to share the experience. Stone statues and flowerpots were positioned around the garden and something glistening at the edge of the lawn indicated there was a stream.
In the centre of the garden there were three chairs; two of them were occupied. He smiled.
‘Riley and Ed are here!’ he said aloud, dressing quickly to join them.
Outside his room was a long passageway lined with magnificent paintings framed in gold. At the end of the corridor there was a window. Beneath his feet, a thick patterned rug covered the wooden floor. Since the passage to the left led only to a dead end, Will turned right, passing countless doors and calling, ‘Hello!’ in case someone was near. But no one replied.
He came to a wide staircase with an oak bannister. Will did what came most naturally to him. Smiling mischievously, he swung his leg over and held on tight as he slid all the way to the bottom, passing an extensive arched window of multi-coloured stained glass, which created sparkling patterns of the floor.
He slid off the end and breathed in deeply. It was peaceful here. Apart from his breath there was little else to hear. This was nothing like his previous home where there was always some background noise: voices, coughing, sneezing, laughing, the hum of the computer or the annoying ticking of a clock.
The Amphiblets Page 6