There was no choice, though. So she did it quickly, keeping explanations to a minimum. As for their reactions … well, it was hard to tell because, as soon as she’d finished, she closed her eyes and prayed she was in a Doctor Who Easter special. But when she opened them again there was no Tardis waiting to whisk her to Planet Sensible, just Grandma, now spouting some hootiefruit about ancient prophecies, stoutest crooks and holding hands.
Abbie had to admit it was a good story – until the last two words.
‘WHO?!’ she said as calmly as she could.
‘I knew ’e’d come ’ere,’ said Grandma, ‘in search of treasure, even though I told ’im it was nothin’ but a fairytale. ’Ere Corrie, you OK?’
Coriander’s hands were pressed against her cheeks. ‘Perdita!’
‘Out there with Klench!’ gasped Matt. ‘No!’
‘Now calm down.’ Dad put a hand on Matt’s shoulder. ‘We’ve been searching this island for nearly a week. And there’s been no sign of company.’
Oh hasn’t there? While the others murmured their agreement, Abbie’s throat filled with dust. The growing unease she’d felt on this island, the sense that they weren’t alone … had someone been watching them all along?
And not just any old someone. She clasped her head as memories crashed in. Klench holding them hostage in the Hair Museum. Klench trying to trim their brains in the Amazon jungle. Klench with a gun. Klench with a bun. And now a new nightmare, Klench on the run. He was out there somewhere – and so was Perdita.
‘This is all my fault,’ she mumbled. ‘If I’d shared the clue, she wouldn’t have gone off alone.’
Coriander moaned. Matt groaned. And Grandma bunched her fists. ‘Ooh, just wait till I get me ’ands on ’im. I’ll smack ’is bum to kingdom come. I’ll clip ’is ears for twenty years. I’ll squeeze ’is knees to … to …’ She looked round for help.
‘Mushy peas!’ cried Mr Dabbings with surprising enthusiasm for a peace-loving man.
Coriander sniffed to her senses. ‘We have to find Perdita before Klench does.’ She stepped forward and grabbed Abbie’s arm. ‘We’re going to that cave right now. And the minute we find her –’ she turned to Mr Dabbings, ‘phone Bundy. We’re leaving this island immediately.’
Grandma folded her arms. ‘I’m not leavin’ anywhere without a sarnie. Me and the lads missed breakfast.’
‘For goodness sake! Our daughter’s … and you’re … oh, there’s no time for this.’ Coriander grabbed Abbie’s right hand.
Matt grasped her left. ‘Take us to Perdita.’
Abbie nodded, blinking back tears. Everyone followed them down to the lake except Grandma and the Incas.
‘Help yourselves,’ Dad called over his shoulder, pointing to the food tent. ‘But don’t go anywhere till we get back. I can’t have you wandering off as well, Mother.’
‘Alright, keep yer ’air on,’ shouted Grandma, which was a bit rich as Chester had already shot off her head towards the food tent.
Abbie ran along the beach. The others crunched behind her like frantic cornflakes. Tears blurred the shingle into a wobbly grey curtain. She blinked furiously. She had to stay focused. Klench could be anywhere: round the next bend, behind a bush, perched up a very strong tree.
Marcus caught up with her. ‘What’s all the fuss?’ he panted. ‘Is this guy really so bad?’
‘Worse,’ she mumbled, realising that the other children and Mr Dabbings had never met Hubris Klench. How could she describe the depth of his depravity, the height of his horridity, the width of his wickedosity? ‘Smuggler. Kidnapper. Bank robber. Brain shrinker.’ The list was endless. But her breath wasn’t. She waved her arms to indicate more crimes and ran on.
Her chest was exploding. She pushed herself harder, hoping the pain would suppress her panic. What if Klench had caught Perdita? What if he’d forced her at gunpoint into the cave to dig up the treasure? A sob escaped her. Never mind their recent quarrels: Perdita had been the best friend of her life.
Another sob slipped out. The life that Klench had done his best to ruin. Every time she thought they were safe he popped up again – indestructible, unstoppable, everlasting as a giant gobstopper. A sudden anger flared in her chest, fuelling her stride, scooping energy out of nowhere.
The beach curved to the right. And there was the waterfall, crashing and sparkling down the mountainside.
A shriek cut the air. Abbie spun round. Coriander was sitting on the beach. Her hand was cupped over her left ankle. She was wincing with pain. Abbie ran back.
‘I tripped,’ said Coriander. ‘I’m OK.’ But her face was ashen. Taking Matt’s hand, she tried to stand up. ‘Ow!’ She collapsed. ‘My ankle.’
Matt rubbed her shoulders. ‘Try again,’ he urged. But when he hoisted her up her leg crumpled.
‘You go on,’ she gasped, flopping down on the beach. ‘You’ve got to find Perdita.’
‘I can’t,’ said Matt. ‘What if Klench finds you?’
‘You must. What if he finds Perdita?’ They stared at each other.
‘We’ll have to split up,’ said Abbie. ‘Half come on with me, half take Coriander back. We mustn’t leave anyone alone.’ Their only advantage was numbers. If Klench had picked up a gun somewhere – which knowing him was likely – their one hope was to overwhelm him. ‘Who’s coming with me?’ she said as calmly as she could over the fireworks of fear inside.
Matt looked frantically from her to Coriander. What a choice, thought Abbie: protecting your wife or rescuing your daughter. In the end she decided for him, saying he’d be most help making a stretcher.
Mr Dabbings eagerly offered to carry one end. ‘Much as I’d love to meet this appalling villain, you understand, and teach him the Love Rainbow. Which is, Henry?’
‘Kindness, happiness, helpfulness, cheerfulness, friendliness, gentleness and lentilness.’ Henry finished wrapping his blankie round Coriander’s ankle and said he’d go back too, so that Mr Binkles wouldn’t get lonely.
Terrifica said she’d hold Coriander’s hand and ‘earn my Florence Nightingale badge’.
Dad put his arm round Abbie. ‘I’m with you, darling. Not letting you out of my sight.’
Marcus joined them. ‘Me too. I’m not giving up now.’
On Perdita thought Abbie, or the treasure? But she was too grateful for his company to ask.
‘Nor me,’ said Ursula, ‘not if Perdita’s in trouble.’
Coriander smiled through her pain. ‘What a friend you are.’
The words stabbed Abbie, hot and true. She’d got Perdita into danger and Ursula was volunteering to get her out.
No. If anyone’s going to rescue Perdita, it’s me. She turned and strode on towards the waterfall.
***
‘Disgustin’.’ Grandma dropped her potted pigeon cookie on the groundsheet. Chester took it outside, dug a hole and buried it, accidentally destroying a woodlouse shopping centre. ‘There must be somethin’ tastier. If I know Graham, ’e’s bound to ’ave a bit of choc stashed somewhere.’ She rummaged round the tent, peering behind crates and lifting the edge of the groundsheet. ‘Ha!’ Tucked in a corner was a plastic box. ‘’Oo fancies a Ferrero Rocher?’
Sitting on Bacpac’s lap (emperors are allergic to the floor) Chunca beamed. Of the few English words he’d learned, ‘Ferrero’ and ‘Rocher’ were by far the most interesting. No one had bothered to tell him they were actually Italian. He opened his mouth. Bacpac unwrapped the choc and popped it in.
Grandma sat on a crate, munching thoughtfully. ‘Wonder where that scoundrel could be?’
***
On the mountain, as it happened, just above the woods. ‘Give me break,’ Klench panted. ‘I am out of puffs.’
Mummy jabbed his bottom with an inner poker. ‘Get a move on lazy breeches, if you vont to find ze riches.’
Oh boy did he vont. Taking a deep breath, Klench lumbered on, fuelled by the thought of unearthing his passport to freedom and respectability, when his life – an
d her death – could start all over again.
18
Where’s Perdita?
Abbie marched ahead, a poisonous soup of guilt and fear bubbling in her chest. She pressed her knuckles into her eyes. She had to hold it together, get them to the cave. The waterfall roared like growing dread. At last she reached the pool at the bottom and waited for the others.
Ursula arrived first. ‘This is all my fault,’ she gasped. Her face was streaked with tears.
‘What?’ said Abbie sharply.
‘I should never have taken your notebook. I’m sorry.’
Relief flooded Abbie. Ursula knew how she felt – was even taking the blame! Time to swallow her pride, forgive and forget, hug and make up. ‘It’s too late now!’ she snapped.
Ursula bit her lip and nodded miserably.
Why did I say that? If Abbie had burrowed underground and swallowed earth, she couldn’t have felt more like a worm.
She hid her shame with efficiency. ‘We have to assume the worst,’ she said when Dad and Marcus arrived. ‘That Klench has found Perdita in the cave and that he’s got a gun. Our only hope is to surprise him. We go through the waterfall. Three of us wait by the crack in the rocks while one goes into the cave and distracts him. Then the others creep in and grab him.’
‘Who’ll go in?’ said Marcus. Everyone looked down and found a particularly amazing pebble to stare at.
‘Me.’ Everyone looked up and found a particularly amazing Ursula to stare at.
‘Wow,’ said Marcus.
‘No.’ Abbie was shocked to discover that she’d spoken. ‘I will.’ She licked her lips. ‘I’ve handled Klench before.’
Dad gripped her arm. ‘No way! I wouldn’t dream of letting you do that.’
‘But you’d dream of letting Ursula?’ Abbie pulled away.
‘Um, of course not. I mean … I’ll do it.’
‘No,’ said Abbie. ‘We need the strongest people to grab him – that’s you and Ursula. And Klench knows me – I’ll be more of a distraction than Marcus. She turned to Ursula. ‘I bet you know some good rear attacks.’
‘There’s the Backstabber. And the Buttboot.’
‘Perfect,’ said Abbie, though she doubted even Ursula could boot that butt.
‘Hang on,’ said Dad. ‘I said no. I won’t allow this, Abigail. Your mother would never speak to me again. I would never speak to me again.’ His voice trembled. ‘As your loving father and parent-in-chief, I absolutely forbid–’
But she was already running in front of the pool. She jumped from stone to stone across the streams and reached the gap at the far edge of the waterfall. Taking a deep breath, she slipped through.
Marcus and Terrifica followed, staring round the chamber in wonder while Dad rushed through. Before he could grab her, Abbie dodged towards the back wall.
The morning sun threw a dimmer light than yesterday. Feeling rather than seeing her way to the crack, Abbie froze. I can’t go in. She spread her hands on the rocks either side to steady herself. I have to. Cold stone pressed into her palms. I could be shot. She shivered. So could Perdita. She looked behind. Marcus and Ursula were blocking a furious-faced Dad.
Clenching her fists, Abbie slipped into the cave. Her breath came in little gasps as she blinked round. Slowly the darkness took shape as …
Nothing. No Perdita. No Klench. Just dripping water and crumbly red walls.
Her fists opened. Her shoulders dropped. She breathed deeply, letting the tension leak out. ‘Come in,’ she yelled above the hollering water. ‘It’s safe.’
Dad burst in and grasped her by the shoulders. ‘I’ll give you safe, my girl! Don’t you ever do that again.’ He hugged her.
Ursula put a hand on her arm. ‘Wait till I tell Perdita what you did.’
Abbie smiled in a frowny way. Then she frowned in a smiley way. Ursula was the enemy. Why would she sing Abbie’s praises? It didn’t make sense. If she’d gone in first, I’d never have told Perdita.
Perdita. Where was she? Abbie shouted into the darkness. The waterfall shouted back.
Dad dumped his rucksack and brought out candles. Handing them round, he took a matchbox from his pocket and lit them. Light flickered wickedly round the cave.
‘Maybe Perdita came and went,’ said Marcus.
Abbie looked at the ground. Apart from the hole she’d made yesterday, the mud was smooth. Strange – if Perdita had come here, why hadn’t she started digging? Did she never make it? Did Klench nab her on the way?
She swallowed. ‘We have to go.’ Her voice was flat, a lid on the panic that was boiling inside.
Marcus had already taken a spoon from his rucksack and was kneeling down, scooping out mud. He looked up, dismayed. ‘But the treasure!’
Ursula bent down and snatched the spoon from Marcus’s hand. ‘What’s more important – a battered old cup or Perdita?’
Marcus sank back on his heels. ‘OK,’ he said in a small voice.
Abbie was the last to leave. While the others stooped through the entrance, she lifted her candle and glanced round for a final check. Shadows capered on the walls.
She caught her breath. At the back, amid the earthy rubble, was a crack in the wall. Small enough to overlook, just big enough to squeeze through.
Abbie walked over to the crack and stuck her head through. ‘Perdita?’ She turned round. ‘Guys,’ she called, ‘come back!’ Bending down, she pushed through the gap and stood up. She was in a passage about two metres wide. The ceiling arched just above her head. The wet red walls gleamed in the candlelight. ‘Perdita?’ She took a few more steps forward. ‘Are you there?’
She turned her head. ‘Quick,’ she yelled back out through the entrance, ‘there’s a tunnel!’
There was a thud. Then a series of quick dull knocks. Then a tumbling, thumping, scraping. Then a sharp pain as something hit her head. Wheeling round, she screamed. Mud and rocks were falling. The entrance to the tunnel was closing up.
***
‘That’s enough!’ Grandma slapped Chunca’s hand away from the Ferrero Rocher box. ‘They’ll rot your teeth.’
Bacpac translated. The Emp gabbled back in ancient Quechua. ‘Master say who care? When he die, whole body rot. And please he die soon. Why wait? Let us find stoutest crook right now.’
Grandma sighed. ‘I don’t see why not. Graham’s takin’ ages. Come on.’ Picking up her binoculars, she headed out of the food tent. ‘Let’s go up to the moor and ’ave a scout round. That crafty old crab can’t be too far away.’
***
In fact, he was just above the woods, looking up the mountain slope. ‘Crack betveen third and fourth rocks,’ Klench read from the notebook, ‘cave in mountainside.’ He shook his head. ‘Vich rocks? Vot cave? Ziss must be wronk mountain.’
Inner Mummy snorted. ‘Do not try to make excuses, just because you’re out of juices. I see boulders just up zere. Move zat butt, you vast éclair.’
19
Caved In
Shielding her face with her arm, Abbie staggered back towards the tunnel entrance. Mud and crumbly rocks rained down, blocking her path. ‘HELP!’ she screamed. ‘DAD!’ But the more she yelled, the faster they fell. Could her voice have caused this, destabilised the already soft walls? She stumbled backwards into the passage, screwing up her eyes, coughing and gagging and tasting mud.
At last the avalanche stopped. The candle trembled in her hand. Shadows reared like cobras over the fallen rocks. For a second her mind was blank. Then dazzling waves of panic crashed through. With shaking hands she stood the candle on a rock and scrabbled frantically at the rubble. A few small stones trickled down. Nothing else would budge. The entrance was completely sealed. Not a chink of light broke through.
‘Daaaad!’ she moaned, shoving herself against the rocks. ‘Maarcus!’ But it was pointless. Even if they heard, how could they break through from the other side? Besides, they’d already left the cave. What if they hadn’t noticed she’d lagged behind? What if they were through
the waterfall and heading back along the beach, unaware that she wasn’t?
Her legs gave way. She sank against a rock and clutched her stomach, winded by terror. Her cheeks felt cold. She must be crying. Closing her eyes, she took short sharp breaths while waves of sickness shuddered through her.
When the shivering had calmed a little, she opened her eyes. Behind her lay the barrier: blocky, unbreachable. You’d think it had always been there. Ahead of her lay … what?
She licked the roof of her mouth, sticky with fear. Bending down, she picked up the candle. The flame thinned. She cupped her hand round it. Don’t go out. Her only light, her only hope in this nightmare.
Working saliva into her mouth, she headed down the passage. She could see about two metres ahead. Beyond lay thick darkness. ‘Perdita?’ she said, not too loudly, for fear of dislodging more rock. Silence. She filled her lungs with dank, stale air and focused her mind on one goal: moving forward.
The walls either side had a sickly yellow sheen, like frozen milk. Running her fingers along their lumpy skin, she thought back desperately to geography lessons. Minerals – deposited by flowing water. Perhaps a river had carved this tunnel. Perhaps it had run right through the mountain and out the other side. Please! She walked faster.
Unless … a fist of fear punched her chest. What if the mountain was made of limestone? What if water had trickled down from the surface, carving out holes and passages that led nowhere, like the inside of a giant Crunchie bar? What if others had come along here looking for treasure … and never got out? What if she found skulls and ribcages and earbones – did ears even have bones? – and … ‘Perditaaa!’ she wailed, no longer caring what she dislodged. This was all her fault. If only she’d told everyone about the cave. If only she hadn’t drawn that sketch. If only she hadn’t wandered off yesterday. ‘I’m sorreee!’
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