Oksa Pollock: The Last Hope (40 page)

Merlin, tell Gus, phone dead. Let my father know. Very URGENT. Thanks
.

Merlin turned round again and nodded to Oksa: he’d understood, she could count on him.

This was hands down the worst test Oksa had ever done in all her school years, given that her mind definitely wasn’t on science. The Young Gracious was sensibly preparing for the worst: McGraw was bound to change up a gear, and if he thought she was going to let herself be trapped easily without putting up a fight, he didn’t know her at all.

The students scattered immediately when the bell rang. No one ever hung around after McGraw’s lessons, particularly not on a Thursday evening when Year 8 Hydrogen was the last form to have a lesson in the deserted school. Only Gus and Merlin didn’t rush to put their things away.
Oksa tried to catch Gus’s eye but McGraw took a sly delight in standing between them. Oksa twisted round and, against all odds, managed to show her friend her mobile, gesturing that it wasn’t working. And when the two boys walked out of the classroom, glancing anxiously at her one last time to show their support, she saw Gus brandishing the scrap of paper she’d passed to Merlin. Then he gave her a thumbs-up and immediately took out his phone, so she realized her message had been delivered. Phew! Gus would go and get Pavel, who was waiting for them as usual at the exit, and they’d both come racing to her aid. She just had to hang in there for a few minutes. Still she watched Gus and Merlin walking away through the windows lining the corridor with a heavy heart. A heavy heart which sank even further when McGraw shut the door, turned the key in the lock and turned round with his Granok-Shooter in his hand and an ominously sardonic smile on his face.

“A
HA, MY DEAR, VERY DEAR
O
KSA
!”
BOOMED
M
C
G
RAW
in his grating voice. “You’ve led me a merry dance.”

“I’m not your dear Oksa. Let me go, you filthy traitor!”

It hadn’t taken McGraw long to fire a Granok at Oksa. He’d attacked as soon as the door was closed, and the girl had immediately found herself suspended six feet above the floor by two Croakettes holding her firmly by the elbows. She’d been expecting an attack but McGraw had still taken her by surprise—which is why she was beside herself with rage. How could she have let herself be caught like that? Now she was hanging there helplessly in the air, struggling frantically. She swung her legs back and forth like a pendulum to try and break free, but the winged frogs were phenomenally strong. She reckoned they’d be able to lift the Statue of Liberty!

“Let you go?” retorted McGraw with an evil laugh. “You must be joking! Now that I’ve got you, I’m certainly not going to let you go just because you tell me to. You may be the Gracious, but you’re powerless against me.”

“You won’t get anything from me. Ever!” shouted Oksa, trying to struggle free.

“Are you mad, you little fool? Do you really think you can stop me? I’ve been waiting for fifty-seven years. Every single person who’s stood in my way has regretted it.”

“Yes, and we all know what that means!” yelled Oksa, glaring at him. “Lucas Williams and Peter Carter paid very dearly for it, you monster.”

McGraw looked at her in amazement, with one eyebrow raised.

“Lucas Williams and Peter Carter? I’d almost forgotten those two… you’re certainly quick on the uptake. But no thirteen-year-old kid is going to come between me and the realization of my dreams. I tried weakening you, but I hit another target entirely. Your poor, dear mother, the delightful Marie Pollock, what a shame,” mocked McGraw. “But I’ve got you at last. There’s nothing you can do about it, it’s the law of the strongest, my dear.
And I am the strongest!
I’m going to put you into a deep sleep and keep you near me until you and your beloved grandmother open the Portal for me.”

Suddenly someone tapped on one of the windows separating the classroom from the corridor. Mortimer McGraw was gesturing to his father from the other side. He flashed a spiteful, ironic look at Oksa, still suspended in mid-air by the Croakettes. McGraw went over to the window.

“All done, Dad! I did what you told me to do,” shouted Mortimer.

“Good boy. You’d better be off, now.”

“But Dad…”

He clearly wanted to tell him something. McGraw turned round and glanced at Oksa, who was still being held captive by the Croakettes, and went out into the corridor. Immediately his young prisoner, her mind in turmoil, stimulated by her anger and by the Excelsior Capacitor, took advantage of the fact that the elderly Felon had relaxed his vigilance to call to her Tumble-Bawler and her Curbita-Flatulo. She knew Gus and her father wouldn’t be long but, in the meantime, the only help she could count on was from those two faithful creatures, which hadn’t left her side for weeks.

“Help me!” she murmured to them. “I don’t know how, but I’m begging you, help me…”

Immediately the Tumble-Bawler opened the bag’s fastener from the inside, climbed out and sprang up Oksa’s right side in the direction of her shoulder. When it reached her elbow it savagely scratched the Croakette, which immediately let go with a growl. Oksa suddenly lost altitude on one side and, with her free hand, snatched the Granok-Shooter from her open bag. On the other side, the Curbita-Flatulo uncoiled and crawled hastily up to her other suspended elbow. With a snap of the jaws it dislodged the second Croakette, which hastily flew off, complaining bitterly about the Curbita’s appalling manners. The “Free Oksa” operation had barely taken five seconds. The Young Gracious, her feet back on solid ground at last, felt readier than she’d ever been to cross swords with McGraw. Taking no chances this time, she took cover under one of the desks.

“OKSA!” thundered McGraw, bursting into the classroom. “OKSA! You won’t escape me, there’s no point hiding.”

By way of an answer, Oksa took a deep breath to focus her thoughts. She swept the room with her gaze, smashing all the test tubes and bottles on the worktops. Tiny fragments of glass scattered at McGraw’s feet and he gave a roar of anger. As they mixed together, the chemicals began giving off acrid fumes and spattered the teacher’s spotless shoes. He hurriedly grabbed the first rag he could get his hands on and angrily tried to clean his reeking footwear. During this time, sensibly crouching down, Oksa changed hiding places and scurried under another desk.

“I can hear you, you little pest, I can hear the slightest movement you make, the quietest breath you take. Didn’t dear old Leomido—my blood brother—tell you I possess the Volumiplus power?”

At these words, Oksa directed a Magnetus at the taps on the worktops in the middle of the classroom. Jets of water suddenly spurted out with such force that they were almost horizontal. Soaked from head to foot, McGraw performed a reverse Magnetus, turning them off one by one, as Oksa strove to turn them back on immediately.

“You can show off all you want, it won’t get you anywhere!”

McGraw went to the back of the classroom and pressed down on a red lever, immediately cutting off the water supply. But now Oksa, whose brain was working overtime, let fly with a Fireballistico, scoring a direct hit on the coat stand where McGraw’s hat and overcoat were hanging.

“You’ve set fire to your favourite teacher’s clothes. Are you satisfied now? Not bad, I must admit, I can see that Dragomira has pulled out all the stops… but it’s no big deal compared to what I have in store for you,” said McGraw with a horrible snigger. “And when you’re finally mine, it will be the turn of that decrepit old shrew.”

Oksa stood up, taking the risk of leaving herself exposed:

“I forbid you to speak like that about my gran!”

And she aimed her Granok-Shooter at her adversary and blew into it.

“Oho! Little fool! You still have room for improvement.”

McGraw had just avoided the Tornaphyllon Granok, but this didn’t cancel out its effect. Out of nowhere, a small but very fierce tornado appeared in the lab. It careered around the classroom, overturning all the utensils which were still intact. The sheets of paper left on the desks were blown into the four corners, while the fluorescent tubes and the windows giving onto the corridor exploded. Awed by the destruction she’d just unleashed, Oksa dived under another desk, ripping the trousers of her school uniform on the shards of test tube strewn over the floor. She curled up as small as she could, bending over and protecting her head with her arms. Too late, unfortunately—she had been hit in the face by some splinters of glass. She wiped her hand over her forehead and cheeks and cried out more from fear than pain when she saw it was covered in blood—a fear which increased tenfold when she saw McGraw’s shadow looming over her.

“I told you I was THE STRONGEST!”

He immediately blew into his Granok-Shooter and fired a Granok, which narrowly missed Oksa, who took off like a rocket. This time she stopped before knocking herself out against the ceiling, but she was immediately joined by McGraw. Floating six feet from each other, they
faced off like wild animals about to attack. Oksa, her heart pounding, stood fast and made a supreme effort not to take her eyes off the vile teacher—an effort which bore fruit, because she suddenly saw a thin ray of light, like a lightning bolt, shoot from her enemy’s fiery eyes. She rolled to one side to avoid the electric current, which hit the wall behind her with a hideous crackle. Standing in mid-air, the Felon attacked again and Oksa only escaped by frantically running around the walls to evade the bolts of electricity. After circling the entire room several times, she decided to change tactics and used the momentum from her last leap to reach the centre of the classroom.

That was when she had a sudden flash of memory: in her mind’s eye she saw the image of Malorane trapped in the Glass Column by Ocious and his henchmen, just as she’d seen it on Dragomira’s Camereye. Obviously, the “Excelsior” effect… doing the splits more than three feet above the floor, the Young Gracious immediately began spinning at a dizzying speed, turning herself into a weapon. She soon felt her foot connect with something, so she stopped spinning and hung there in the air to see the result: McGraw had been kicked to the back of the classroom by Oksa-san, the fearsome human spinning top. With his head lolling to one side and his eyes closed, he looked unconscious.

But this was only a brief respite. The invincible teacher suddenly opened his eyes and immediately brought his Granok-Shooter to his lips. In a fraction of a second the tiny granule had been shot at her as fast as an arrow. Oksa couldn’t avoid the Granok and when she saw the state of her knee, she opened her eyes wide in horror as she realized what had just hit her: a PUTREFACTIO. She was going to rot away to nothing! Struck down by the intense pain, she dropped to the floor and crawled behind an overturned set of shelves for shelter, as McGraw gave a sardonic laugh. The lab was now lit only by the dying flames of the burning coat stand, the light from the corridor and one surviving fluorescent tube, which was feebly flickering on and off. The chemicals spreading across the room were giving off acidic, suffocating fumes and
strange, dark thoughts filled Oksa’s head. Would she ever see her mother again? What would Gus do? What about her father? Why hadn’t they got here yet? Had Mortimer somehow stopped them? Was she going to die? Yes, she was bound to die here in this ruined lab, far from everyone she loved… in a few minutes it would all be over and she’d be nothing but a disgusting heap of decayed flesh. At that thought, despite the awful pain, she mustered all her courage, struggled to her feet and aimed at McGraw:

“ARBORESCENS!” she yelled.

And what she saw gave her every reason to hope she might come out of this hellish experience alive: thick, viscous, yellow creepers began vigorously twining about McGraw with a nauseating sucking noise, depriving him of the use of his hands and legs.

“I’ll get the better of you! You wai—” he just had time to bellow before the creepers reached his mouth and silenced him.

Wait? No way! Oksa clambered onto a desk which had ended up against the wall in the violence of the struggle. She struggled through one of the smashed windows and let herself slip down into the corridor.

“OKSA!”

Gus was just coming round the corner of the corridor in which the lab was located when he saw his friend, covered in blood, her clothes blackened and torn. Through the tear in her trousers he saw her injured knee, which looked a funny greenish colour. Behind her there was glass all over the floor and smoke was escaping from the classroom. Gus rushed over to help her up. They had barely got to the end of the second corridor when they heard a commotion and a yell which made their blood run cold:

“OKSA! OKSA!”

“He’s broken free, quick, we’ve got to get out of here!” screamed Oksa, terror-stricken.

They began running as fast as they could, but Oksa’s pitiful condition slowed them down and they were soon caught by McGraw, brandishing his Granok-Shooter.

“What’s going on here?”

“MISS HEARTBREAK!”

The history and geography teacher had just appeared round the corner of the corridor, her eyes popping out of her head.

“Dr McGraw? What are you doing?” asked the young woman in disbelief.

“Mind your own business and shut up!” he spat, foaming with anger.

Making a superhuman effort, Oksa instinctively attempted to stop McGraw one last time, attacking him with a Knock-Bong which sent him flying to the other end of the corridor.

“Run, Miss Heartbreak!” shouted Gus, with a beseeching look.

Miss Heartbreak gave a cry of fear and bewilderment.

Despite the danger, the poor woman was glued to the spot with astonishment. But Gus had another priority: he grabbed Oksa under the arms and dragged her towards the exit.