Boy X Page 10

  ‘This is why you knew Thorn was there in the dark. You heard the boar, you smell things, you don’t get tired in the jungle.’

  ‘There’s this too.’ Ash held up his hand, glad to finally be talking about it. Glad that Isabel believed him. ‘I cut myself with the knife before we left your house.’

  ‘Right there?’ Isabel pointed to the faint red line on his skin.

  Ash nodded and unfastened his boot, pulling it off before removing his sock and unwinding the bandage. ‘And these cuts are gone.’ He grabbed his foot to look at the sole, and the rain washed away the dried blood, revealing unbroken skin beneath.

  ‘That’s not normal,’ Isabel said.

  ‘No.’ Ash put his sock and boot back on. ‘So what the hell is happening to me? Is it this island?’

  Isabel shrugged. ‘I have never seen anything like this before.’

  ‘And all this stuff in my head. I thought it was going to drive me crazy.’

  ‘It still feels like that?’

  ‘I’m getting used to it.’ Ash tried to put his feelings into words. ‘It’s like . . . like if you go somewhere new, you notice things, but after a while you stop noticing them unless you really look, or unless something changes. Well, when I notice, or really concentrate, I can smell all kinds of things, see things. I can even hear your heartbeat.’

  ‘So what do I smell like?’

  Ash remembered back to the first time he had seen Isabel. ‘Sweet ginger, cinnamon, coconut. And a little sweaty.’

  Isabel snorted. ‘Well, it is hot here.’

  ‘And . . .’ Ash closed his eyes and focused on Isabel. ‘And—’ He opened his eyes and looked at her.

  ‘What?’

  Ash shook his head.

  ‘Kronos,’ Isabel said. ‘It’s inside me, isn’t it? You can smell it. It wasn’t just inside the lab, it was everywhere.’

  Ash turned away.

  ‘But you don’t have it. It doesn’t affect you, does it?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘I can feel it.’ Her voice was quiet. ‘I am getting sick.’

  ‘No. Maybe you’re just tired and—’

  ‘But you can smell it.’

  She was right. The scent of cooker gas was all around her, but now there was something else too: a sickening sweetness, like overripe fruit just on the turn, with a thread of rancid milk knotted through it. He knew at once that it was the smell of death – the stink of Kronos slowly destroying her body.

  ‘I don’t want to die,’ she said.

  ‘You won’t.’ Ash put a hand to the tag round his neck. What happened to Dad might have been his fault, but nothing like that was ever going to happen again. ‘You’re going to be fine. Cain and Pierce are out there and they have the cure. We’ll find them. We’ll find them and everyone will be fine. You, Mum, your dad. Everyone.’

  But when Isabel looked at him, he saw the doubt in her eyes.

  18 hrs and 43 mins until Shut-Down

  One hundred metres wide, the river rushed through the forest, unstoppable and without mercy. Even in the shallows it moved at speed, but in the centre it was a raging monster, smashing against ragged rocks that rose from the spray like twisted teeth. It spewed foam and roared with energy that could snap bones as easily as matchsticks.

  Ash’s muddy boots ground the wet pebbles underfoot as he ventured closer to the edge. Clothes heavy with grime, he climbed onto a large black boulder to look into the seething water. The wind rushed around him, displaced by the ferocity of the water just a few metres away. He was mesmerized by the awesome power of what he was seeing. The wounds on his feet and hands might have healed faster than normal, but if he fell into that violent torrent he wouldn’t have a chance; it would force him under and send him tumbling to his death. If he didn’t drown, he would crack his head on one of those huge rocks and it would split his skull, just like it would split anyone’s.

  ‘Do we really have to cross this?’

  ‘Yes.’ Isabel climbed up beside him. She looked like an explorer, with dirty streaks on her face, the pack and rifle slung over her back, standing in the softening rain.

  Ash watched her, hoping that she could stay tough. Her heart was beating fast, but it sounded strong. She was hot, but not feverish, she smelt no more unwell than before, and—

  ‘Stop it.’

  He felt a flush of embarrassment. He hadn’t meant to . . . what could he call it? Was there a word for using all your senses to find out how a person is feeling?

  ‘It’s like you’re reading me. Don’t.’

  Read. That was it. He had been reading her.

  ‘Yeah. Sorry. Um, is there some kind of bridge?’ He glanced both ways along the river. To the left, it coursed round a bend, disappearing into the forest, but on the right there was a long, straight stretch before it vanished among the trees at the base of a large mountain.

  ‘No bridge,’ Isabel said. ‘But there is a way to cross.’ She pointed downriver towards the bend.

  ‘I don’t see anything.’

  ‘Another five to ten minutes walking and you will.’ She climbed from the rock and shucked the rifle from her shoulder. She removed her rucksack and dropped it on the shingle before rotating her neck and stretching her muscles.

  ‘You think the others got across?’ Ash jumped down.

  ‘I think they crossed much further upriver, before the rain.

  When the river was calmer, they could swim it.’

  ‘What about the crate? How would they get that over?’

  ‘Maybe it floats.’

  Ash thought about the way the soldiers had kept hold of the wooden box when they had backed away from the crashing helicopter. It was important to them. ‘What do you think’s inside it? It had air holes. You think it might be some kind of animal?’

  ‘We can ask them when we find them.’ Isabel gave up trying to ease the tension in her aching muscles and shouldered the rucksack. She placed the rifle butt on the shingle and leant on the weapon for a moment. Her eyes were a little more bloodshot than before and every breath was now accompanied by a gentle rasping sound from deep in her chest. ‘I don’t feel so good, but I guess you know that. You have to listen to me,’ she said. ‘In case I can’t go on.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I’m tired, Ash. Maybe too tired.’

  ‘No. You’re not getting out of this. You have to—’

  ‘Just listen. I will try to keep going, but if something happens, you need to know where to go.’

  ‘I’ll carry you if I have to.’

  Isabel smiled. ‘We’ll go to the crossing, and on the other side we follow a path through the jungle to a pool. There is a place there to spend the night. Shelter. From there, we can walk along the ridge towards the bay. It’s the same direction the others will have to go, but faster, so maybe we catch up with them or get to the boat first. Maybe we are already ahead of them.’

  Ash remembered Mum’s instructions. She had been clear. She wanted them to stop Pierce from leaving the island at all costs. She wanted that to be their priority. But Ash had other ideas. ‘If we see them, we go after the cure,’ he said.

  ‘Of course. What else?’

  ‘We’re not going for the boat, like Mum wanted; we’re going for the cure. That’s our primary objective. The boat is secondary. It’s optional.’

  Ash knew about primary and secondary objectives from playing video games. Primary objectives delivered the main reward, secondary objectives delivered a bonus, and right now Ash wasn’t interested in the bonus.

  18 hrs and 28 mins until Shut-Down

  Ash had been hoping for a bridge, but what he got was a rope and a small wooden cradle.

  ‘Seriously?’ He looked at the contraption that was swinging a few metres out over the river. ‘We have to use this?’

  The rope stretched from one side of the river to the other, looping back again and passing through a pulley at each side. The pulleys were secured to the trunks of stout t
rees on opposite banks, ten metres above the level of the water. Attached by cords to the top loop of the rope was what looked like a wooden pallet from a builder’s yard – five planks laid side by side and fixed in place by thicker pieces of wood nailed to the bottom. The only thing that made it look any different from something that might be used to stack bricks was that someone had attached a small handrail to two opposing sides.

  ‘Is it even safe?’

  ‘Of course.’ Isabel clambered up the bank to the tree where the rope was secured. She climbed up onto a rock, grabbed the rope and began hauling it hand over hand, bringing the cradle towards her. ‘Come. Help me.’

  Isabel was sick and weakening, but she showed no fear. Ash knew he should do the same, be strong for her, so he joined her on the rock and tried to grab the platform as it came nearer. At first it swung out of reach, but when it swung back he managed to snatch it and pull it close.

  ‘Hold it while I get on,’ Isabel said, but as soon as she jumped up and put any weight on the cradle, it started swaying about like crazy. ‘Steady!’ she shouted as she brought one knee up onto the wood.

  The whole contraption was swinging back against Ash, threatening to bash him in the head and knock him off the boulder, but he struggled on and managed to bring the cradle under control so Isabel could climb up and shuffle over to the far side. When she was settled, she looked at Ash as if it had been the easiest thing in the world. ‘Now you.’ She patted the space beside her.

  ‘Together? Will it take the weight?’

  Isabel shook her head like she didn’t understand.

  ‘Are you sure we can both get on this together?’ he said. ‘Don’t you think we’re too heavy?’

  ‘You and me are just kids. We are not so heavy.’

  Ash studied the cables holding the cradle suspended beneath the rope, then looked at the speed of the water as it thundered past, swollen by the rain running off the mountain. But that wasn’t the only thing that made him reach for the comfort of the tag round his neck. Here on the bank, the cradle was at head height, but over the centre of the river, it would be suspended ten metres above it. Ash wondered if he would rather face Thorn – or hang high above the raging river. ‘You sure this is a good idea?’

  ‘We’ll be quicker together,’ Isabel said. ‘There’s no other way to cross.’

  Ash tore his eyes from the water and looked up to see her watching him.

  ‘Is it the height?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah. The height.’

  ‘It is good there aren’t any small dogs,’ Isabel joked. But Ash didn’t smile, so she frowned and became serious. ‘The river will be like this for hours,’ she said. ‘There is no other way.’

  ‘Right. Yeah.’ He reached up to grab the lip of the platform. It dipped as soon as he put any weight on it, and began to swing and rotate – first one way, then the other. Ash used all his strength to keep from falling off as he kicked his feet in mid-air, dragging himself on board where there was just enough room for them to sit side by side, wedged between the handrails.

  ‘It feels higher than it looked.’ The swinging and twisting motion made his stomach queasy.

  ‘Ready?’ Isabel asked. She was sitting with the rifle in front of her, the sling tucked firmly beneath her bottom to stop it from sliding away. The rucksack was still on her back.

  Ash glanced up at the suspension cords and watched the way the line tightened and bowed under their weight. ‘Not really.’

  Isabel snorted through her nose, a kind of laugh, and patted Ash on the shoulder. ‘We’ll be OK. A few minutes and we’ll be on the other side.’

  ‘Right then.’ He tried not to think about the height, tried not to look at anything but the rope. ‘How do we make it work?’

  ‘Easy.’ Isabel was already holding the lower loop in both hands, and now she began hauling it towards her.

  The cradle lurched, swung backwards and forwards, then inched out across the water.

  ‘Help me pull,’ she said, so Ash reached across her to grab the rope, and tugged as hard as he could.

  The platform pitched forward with a jerk, the rifle slipping along the rough wood then pulling taut against the strap tucked under Isabel’s bottom. Both Ash and Isabel slid closer to the edge of the platform, making them dig their heels into the cracks between the boards and scramble backwards. In turn, that upset the balance, making it tip in the other direction.

  ‘Not so hard!’ Isabel gripped the rope tight, trying to stop them from swinging. ‘You want to make us fall?’

  ‘Sorry.’ Ash had his fists tight round the line, and his forearms burnt with the strain of trying to keep the platform steady. ‘I guess I don’t know my own strength any more.’

  ‘Well, you need to learn. Don’t pull so hard or we go in the water.’ Isabel looked at him with a serious expression, before a smile cracked her lips, flashing those white teeth again. ‘Your face, though. You looked funny.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Hilarious.’

  A few centimetres to his left and ten metres down, the fastest, most dangerous river Ash had ever seen was rushing through a deadly, rocky course.

  Above him, the fixings groaned and creaked like they were about to give way.

  Behind him, the most frightening man he had ever known was following, and ahead were the people who had shot down a helicopter and infected everyone in the BioSphere.

  On top of all that, he had to find Pierce, get the cure for Kronos, recover Mum’s notes and make it back to the BioSphere in less than twenty hours. And save the world. So really, there was nothing funny about what was happening.

  Nothing at all.

  But despite everything, it was exhilarating. It was dangerous – terrifying – but the most important thing was that he was doing something. He wasn’t cowering in a corner wondering what to do; he was out here, trying to stop Cain and Pierce. And Ash told himself that if Isabel could do this, then he could too. So he tried to ignore what was beneath him as they held onto the rope and waited for the platform to stop swinging. And when it had settled, they hauled on it once more and slipped further out over the raging water.

  As they moved closer to the centre, the sound of the water grew louder and louder so that it was thundering in his head. It was all he could hear as they pulled and pulled, dragging the platform slowly onwards, with the sun over their left shoulder drying their rain-soaked clothes.

  It’s all going too well, said the voice, but Ash shook it away. He and Isabel were going to do this. They were making good time and they would catch up with Cain and Pierce. Ash would not lose Mum like he had lost Dad.

  When they were almost over the middle of the river, Ash summoned the courage to glance back and see how far they had come. ‘Feels like we’ve been doing this for ages,’ he shouted, ‘but it doesn’t look like we’ve come very far.’

  Isabel shifted to look over her shoulder. ‘A few more minutes and we’ll be on the other side.’

  A flurry of birds burst from the trees on the bank behind them, flitting out across the water and turning to fly downriver.

  ‘What was that?’ Isabel asked.

  ‘Just birds.’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘Something made them fly up. You can see better than me – look in the trees where the birds came out.’

  Ash shifted his attention from the distant birds and scanned the line of the jungle, seeing a wall of green and brown swaying in the breeze that followed the storm. There was the odd splash of red or yellow where flowers were growing, but other than that . . . ‘I don’t see any—’

  Then he saw it. Close to the place where a branch forked from the trunk of a large, dark tree. He narrowed his eyes. ‘Is that . . .? My God, it’s a face. Someone’s watching us.’

  ‘A face?’

  ‘Thorn.’ As soon as the word was on his lips, Ash knew it was true. Thorn was out there. He had caught up with them and he was watching them from the forest.

  ‘But how?’ Isabel said. ‘We left no tra
cks. And why follow us and not Cain?’

  ‘Makes no difference. We have to get moving.’ Ash pulled harder on the rope, forgetting about the height and the raging river below. The platform tipped forward, but he didn’t waste time trying to keep balanced. He tugged again, dragging them further along the rope, closer to the far bank.

  Isabel steadied herself and grabbed the rope, trying to pull in time with him but finding it impossible to match his speed and strength.

  ‘We’ll cut it,’ she panted. ‘When we reach the other side. He can’t follow then.’

  ‘You sure there’s no other way to cross?’ Ash felt exposed and vulnerable, dangling over the river. If Thorn had a rifle, he could easily pick them off. Or maybe he would cut the rope and let the river take them.

  ‘Not here,’ Isabel said between breaths. ‘Only way is to swim, but the current is too strong now.’

  Ash continued to grab and pull. Isabel continued trying to keep up. The cradle swung backwards and forwards as they moved.

  Progress was slow, but they were sliding over the centre of the current, passing the halfway point.

  Grab and pull.

  Ash glanced back to see if Thorn was still there, but it was difficult to tell. The cradle was swinging almost out of control, and he was only making it worse with his frantic attempts to reach the other side.

  Grab and pull.

  The fixings groaned once more and the cradle came to a sudden stop.

  ‘¡Dios!’ Isabel shouted, looking up and pulling hard again.

  The cradle refused to budge, though, and instead tilted forward with a violent lurch. They both slipped down the damp wood, digging their boot heels into the slats, trying to find a decent grip.

  ‘It’s jammed,’ Ash said, and his first thought was that it had something to do with Thorn, but when he looked back there was no one on the bank, and he could no longer see the face among the trees.

  ‘Harder,’ Isabel shouted, giving the rope another tug. Once again, the cradle lurched forwards and she leant back, digging her heels in to keep aboard.

  ‘Stop!’ Ash said. ‘You’re going to tip us over.’