Hit Squad (2 page)

‘I still think Amy could be useful,’ Nico said stubbornly.

Something snapped inside me. ‘Useful as a boost to your massive ego, you mean?’ I said.

‘Oooh, someone’s jealous.’ Dylan suppressed a giggle.

An awkward silence fell. I looked away.

‘Look!’ At the sound of Ed’s voice I spun round. He was pointing towards the ranch house. A light had been switched on inside and a slight figure in jeans was racing towards us
across the field. It was Cal, Nico’s half-brother.

‘At last,’ Dylan muttered.

As Cal drew closer, another light came on in the house.

‘Man, those lights are coming from our bedrooms.’ Nico turned on me and Ed, furious. ‘How much noise did you make leaving?’

‘None,’ Ed protested.

‘Stop picking on us, Nico,’ I said.

He glared at me as Cal raced up. He was slightly out of breath from running, his white-blond hair and pale face contrasting dramatically with his dark clothes.

‘Come on,’ he gasped, his Australian accent strong in his voice. ‘We have to hurry. They know we’re gone. They’ll be out here any sec.’

‘We still need to fetch Amy,’ Nico said. ‘I can get in and out fast and—’

‘No way,’ Cal interrupted. ‘It was Amy who sounded the alarm. She woke up and saw everyone was gone. She assumed someone had kidnapped us.’

Nico swore. Dylan’s eyes widened.

‘Didn’t you think to leave a note for your sister, Chino Boy?’ she asked Ed.

‘I
did
,’ Ed blustered. ‘She obviously hasn’t seen it yet in the dark and—’

‘Will you all shut up,’ Cal hissed. ‘We need to go. Right now.’ He extended his arms. I took hold of one hand, Dylan the other.

Nico took a step back. ‘I’m telling you this is a mistake,’ he said.

‘Come on, Nico, please.’ I held out my other hand to him.

For a second, Nico looked at me. His eyes, even in the darkness, were full of emotion: part frustration, part anger . . . part disappointment. He didn’t speak but I could read his thoughts
as powerfully as if I were Ed.

You’ve let me down, Ketty.

I was still holding out my hand, waiting for him to take it. When Cal was using his Medusa gift with the four of us, we always travelled in the same formation: me and Nico on one side; Dylan and
Ed on the other.

Shouts were now audible from the house. There was Fergus, Dylan’s uncle, shouting all our names . . . and Amy, calling for Ed . . . and Nico.

‘Come on, mate,’ Cal urged.

With a growl, Nico gave in. My hand was still outstretched, but he pointedly walked away from me, to Cal’s other side, and took Dylan’s hand.

It felt like a punch in the guts.

The atmosphere tensed further.

‘Ed, mate, get in line,’ Cal snapped.

Ed, who’d been watching the scene between Nico and me with gaping mouth, stepped over and took my hand. As the five of us stood in a row, ready to take off, Ed squeezed my fingers. I gave
his hand a squeeze back to acknowledge his kindness, but inside it made no difference. Inside I was devastated.

‘Ready?’ Cal glanced up and down the line.

We all nodded. No one spoke. The yells from the ranch house were louder now. Out of the corner of my eye, I could just make out Fergus racing across the field in our direction.

‘No!’ he yelled. ‘Stop!’

With a sudden jerk, Cal yanked on my hand. My feet left the ground and a moment later we soared into the night sky.

We didn’t speak as we flew. Cal and Ed, on either side of me, weren’t ignoring me or being unkind, but Ed hates being up in the air, so he spent the entire journey
with his eyes tight shut, and Cal kept quiet because he has to concentrate when he’s flying. He has an amazing ability – personally I think it’s the coolest Medusa skill, not that
I’d ever say so to the others. I mean, mine is frustrating and unpredictable and I know Ed often hates being able to read minds. But Dylan and Nico love what they can do.

As we soared over the rough, rugged Australian landscape, I realised that Cal’s ability to fly was special because he could extend it to others. This was true of Dylan’s protective
force, of course. She’d recently learned how to protect others as well as herself. And Cal helped other people have fun. In contrast, Nico’s telekinesis was kind of a selfish ability.
Sure he could move objects to fight off external threats, and he’d saved all our lives on more than one occasion, but that was in rare and extreme situations. Most of the time he only used
his telekinesis to show off.

For the first time it struck me that maybe the showing off was part of a deeper problem . . . that maybe Nico was just fundamentally very selfish. Not merely a bit self-centred, like most people
probably are, but truly egotistical through and through.

I looked down at the desert landscape over which we were flying. The sun was rising now and the sky was a blazing fire of red and orange. We were high up and I could see for miles. A small town
nestled at the base of a hill to the east. A range of mountains ran along the horizon to the west. Normally this would have thrilled me. I’d always loved being up in the skies before, the
wind rushing through my hair.

But today I felt empty and sad. I wanted to be on this mission, for sure, not packed off to Singapore to live with Mum and Dad and my brother Lex. But I hated how things were with Nico.

I felt a tug on my hand and looked round. Cal was indicating the ground. We’d been flying for several hours and I knew he would be getting tired. I nodded, and he shifted the angle of his
body so that we began our descent. A couple of minutes later we landed in a deserted field. It was greener than most of the landscape we’d flown over and the grass felt damp around my ankles.
Ed came to ground with a groan. He staggered a few paces, then slumped onto the wet grass, his head in his hands.

Letting go of Cal’s hand, I walked over. ‘You okay, Ed?’

He nodded, but his face was at the grey end of pale.

‘Why have we stopped?’ Nico said behind me, an imperious tone to his voice.

Wasn’t it
obvious
?

‘Because Cal needs a break and Ed feels sick,’ I snapped, turning round.

Nico glared at me. With the dawn sun lighting his face, he looked absolutely beautiful. And yet his dark eyes were cold.

‘Right.’ He sounded like he was sneering. ‘Well, we can’t stop for long.’

Exasperated, I walked over to Cal. He was standing to one side, his face tipped up to the sun. ‘How are you doing?’ I asked.

‘I’m fine.’ He smiled at me, a lovely warm grin. ‘Thanks, Ketty.’ He slicked his hands through his blond hair. Cal was pretty good-looking himself. Not, maybe, in
the same league as Nico, but definitely fit. And he liked me, I was sure he did.

I looked round. Dylan was gazing at me, eyebrows raised. I wondered what she was thinking. There was no point asking, of course. Dylan was as prickly as a rose bush. And, usually, just as
glamorous, though right now – with her tousled hair and dark shadows under her pale green eyes – she did not look her best.

For a second, I thought she was going to say something about me and Cal or me and Nico, but instead she made a face and held out her long red ponytail.

‘I love flying but it’s
real
bad for my hair,’ she drawled.

Cal and I laughed.

‘Let’s eat and drink something,’ Cal suggested. ‘I’ll be ready to go again in about ten minutes.’

Dylan took off her backpack and started handing out the bottles of juice we’d packed the night before. Ed was on his feet now, looking less pale. Nico had wandered across our field to a
line of trees. Once upon a time I’d have followed him, eager to put right whatever was wrong between us, but right now I felt too annoyed.

I took a bottle of orange juice and strolled in the opposite direction from Nico. Now we were under way, I felt strangely relaxed. I knew it wouldn’t last. Our plan was to head for the
northern coast of Australia, then land-hop across the islands of Indonesia until we reached the Asian mainland. It sounded like a holiday, but we were on a mission and there was no time to stop.
Once we got as far as India, Cal was aiming to get us to Kima, in northern Europe, in a series of flying stints. Cal anticipated that the whole journey would take us a couple of days.

Kima was the source of our one and only lead. From computer files we’d found, we knew that Medusix was being developed there, and Ed and I had been checking the internet every day for
reports of anything suspicious happening in the region. Two days ago we’d stumbled across a small online report from a local news station, about some bizarre-sounding occurrences in Lovistov,
a small town in the south of Kima. In one instance a passengerless car with the engine off had apparently moved – almost glided, the witness statement said – across a supermarket car
park. In another, a set of work man’s tools had appeared to dance around each other in mid-air. No one was anywhere near them at the time. Again, there was nothing conclusive to go on, but
both sounded like possible demonstrations of telekinesis. Proof, perhaps, that Medusix was in use here.

Whatever the truth, once we were in Lovistov, everyone would be relying on me to have a vision of the specific place we needed to go to. Up until right now, I’d really been feeling the
pressure, but this place we’d landed in was so peaceful, it seemed to ease my anxieties.

The sun was growing stronger and the sky bluer as I looked out across the green fields ahead. The others were still chatting to each other over bottles of juice, apart from Nico who had wandered
some way off to the edge of our field.

I steadied my gaze on the middle distance – a blur of green and blue. If I could see into the next few hours, it would be a massive help. I let my mind go blank, as I’d done so many
times, then took my focus onto the image of us flying into Lovistov. I had no real idea what the town would look like, so I just concentrated on the name and the picture of the five of us in the
sky. A few deep breaths – and lights flashed before my eyes.

It was coming. The familiar strong, sickly smell that preceded all my visions filled the air and I was there . . . in the future.

Darkness. My hand in Cal’s as we fly . . . Landing with a bump. Stumbling. The air is cold. The ground covered in frost.

While keeping a mental hold of what I was seeing, I encouraged the vision to skip ahead. This was a technique I’d learned recently. It gave me more control over what I was seeing, though
not as much control as I would have liked.

A church spire looms overhead in the moonlight. Frost crackles under my feet. I am with others, though I can’t see them.

As I tried to get a sense of who I was with in the vision, my mind, unbidden, skipped ahead again. A series of quick, dramatic images filled my inner vision.

The side of the church. Graves to the right.

Unbidden, my mind skipped ahead again. The images came thick and fast – almost too quickly for me to register them.

An uneven lane . . . houses . . . a large wooden door with green paint peeling off the panel. Nico’s hand, twisting to undo the lock . . .

Trying to slow the vision down, the images skipped ahead once more.

A cold, damp passageway . . . another door . . . creaking open . . . a bare concrete room . . . cold . . . a pain in my leg . . . can’t breathe . . . a bright light, blinding me . .
.

With a jolt, the vision left me. I stood, gasping for air in the middle of the field. It took a second to remember where I was. And why. I turned around. Nico had rejoined the others. They were
packing their juice bottles away. Dylan was slipping on the backpack. Cal beckoned me over with a smile.

‘Did you see something?’ he asked as I walked back. ‘You looked a bit glassy-eyed earlier. I thought maybe you were going to try for a vision.’

I nodded. ‘We should head for the church in Lovistov. The place we’re going is nearby. It was hard to work out the sequence but I saw a large green door after I saw the church and
after we’d walked down a lane of houses . . .’

‘So you think the green door belongs to one of the houses?’

I nodded.

Cal looked at me, impressed. ‘Wow, that’s ace.’

Ed smiled. ‘Well done, Ketty.’

Dylan snorted. ‘It’s all a bit vague, isn’t it? What’s behind the door?’

I shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Some sort of passageway . . . a room. But I saw Nico unlocking the front door, so I know we go in there.’

‘It’s a start,’ Cal insisted.

I glanced at Nico who had remained uncharacteristically silent throughout this exchange. Once he would have leaped to my defence, not left it to Cal.

‘Did you see anything else?’ Nico’s voice was cold.

‘Only that there was a frost,’ I said. I decided not to mention the pain in my leg or the dazzling light. I couldn’t explain either – and it was hopeless trying to get
the others to understand the way my visions jumped around.

Nico offered me a curt nod. He said nothing.

And when, a few minutes later, we flew on again, he stood once more beside Dylan, not me.

The rest of the journey was uneventful. Once we reached the coast, Cal rested again. Then we flew on, over Indonesia and Cambodia, too high up to make out anything distinct in the landscape. We
stopped to eat and sleep only in short bursts but it was nearly dawn the following day when we arrived in Lovistov. Taking into account the time difference, Cal had been flying us for over
forty-eight hours and was practically dead on his feet. He landed us – more raggedly than usual – in a copse on the edge of town. The church spire I’d seen in my vision was
visible in the distance and the air was as cold as my vision had suggested. Once we reached the church, I knew the house with the green door would be close by.