The Amphiblets (11 page)

Ed was growing increasingly annoyed with the knocking on his bedroom door.

‘Ed! Open up. It’s me!’ came Riley’s voice.

Ed rolled his eyes. ‘I’m busy!’

‘Doing what?’

‘I’m busy, being busy!’ cried Ed. ‘Leave me alone!’

‘But I haven’t seen you for two days!’ grumbled Riley. ‘It’s boring around here on my own.’

Ed was sitting on his bed, holding a pencil between his fingers and sketching frantically as if he were possessed. His tongue was pushed between his teeth as he concentrated hard. His bedroom walls were decorated with all the drawings he had processed over the past two days, in which he had reawakened painful memories that he had tried so hard to forget. It was as if the events had taken place only yesterday.

Every day Ed thought of Will and wondered what his brother would have been like now had he still been alive. As soon as Will had died, their father had suggested they move because he couldn’t go on living in a house that reminded him of Will. He had said that the best thing for them all to do was to move away – start again – making fresh memories for themselves. So that’s what had happened. But before they had left, Ed and Riley had gone into the tree house to write one last message on the wall.
We will never forget you, brother…
and they never had.

Now, as he came to finish the last picture, his mind went quiet and at last he felt like eating.

‘Ed, please let me in,’ begged Riley.

Ed stretched his legs, went to the door, and turned the key.

‘It’s about time,’ complained Riley. ‘I feel as if I’ve been here on my own forever.’

‘Where’s Hugo?’

‘I haven’t seen him for two days. He’s gone for one of his long hikes
again
,’ said Riley. ‘That’s all he’s ever does since …’

‘Will died,’ finished Ed. ‘Yeah, I know.’

‘So what have you been doing all this time?’ asked Riley.

‘Drawing.’

‘But you haven’t drawn anything since Will …’ Riley hesitated.

‘Died,’ finished Ed once again. ‘I know. But there was something inside of me that made me want to draw and I feel so much better now that I’ve done it.’

‘Can I see your pictures?’ asked Riley. ‘I used to love your drawings when we were little.’

‘Sure,’ said Ed. ‘I’m going to go and get some breakfast and then I’ll be back. Don’t ruin any of them.’

‘Breakfast?’ quizzed Riley. ‘But it’s four o’clock in the afternoon. It’ll be tea soon.’

‘Better go and get my breakfast now then,’ smiled Ed. ‘Don’t scribble over them like you used to. You always gave someone a moustache or extra spots or perhaps an extra hairy nose.’

‘That wasn’t me! That was …’

‘Will,’ smiled Ed. ‘I thought so. I used to hate it when he did that, but I’d do anything to have him go in there now to redecorate them all. Anyway, I won’t be long.’

As Ed disappeared down the bleak stairwell, Riley entered his bedroom and gasped. Ed had not produced a single picture since Will had died; yet over the past two days he had made up for it. The bedroom walls and floor was covered in extraordinary pictures.

Riley didn’t know where to start first: the walls, the floor, or the drawings scattered on the bed. He gathered the loose ones into a pile and scanned through them one at a time. He sat on the bed staring in awe at the amazing photographic images that Ed had somehow produced. He looked at them over and over again. Some brought tears to his eyes, whereas others made him smile. He was still there half an hour later when Ed returned.

‘Well, what do you think?’ Ed was nervous. Since his pictures were taken from his viewpoint and were very personal, he felt that anyone looking at them would be able to see into his soul. The only ones of Ed himself were of his own reflection in a mirror or on the surface of the water.

‘I can’t believe you drew so many in two days. It must be a record.’ Riley stared at them continuously, open-mouthed. ‘They’re fantastic. What made you start drawing again?’

‘I don’t know. I dreamt of Will and when I woke up I felt like drawing. I couldn’t stop. It’s strange but in the past every time I thought of Will, I’d feel depressed. But over the past two days I feel happier remembering him.’

Riley had already grouped the pictures into some kind of order, which is what he did with most things. In his small bedroom he had placed his books on the shelves alphabetically by the author’s surname. If you took a book you had to put it back
exactly
where you had found it or else Riley would sulk.

So the pictures were placed into four neat groups: pictures of Will; portraits of a young scruffy woman with long, straggly dark hair and eyes like theirs; scenes from the convention they had attended with Will; and pictures of Will and Riley playing as youngsters.

‘All these pictures are from when Will was around,’ noted Riley. ‘This is the woman who you always used to draw. I wonder who she was. I don’t ever remember seeing her, yet she’s familiar somehow. But that might only be because I’ve seen you draw her ages ago.’

‘I used to draw her whenever I was sad. Drawing her face made me feel better.’

‘Do you think she’s our mum?’ asked Riley. ‘She looks like us. I can see it now that we’re older.’

‘Dad never likes to mention her,’ said Ed. ‘He used to tell me I was using my imagination to make her up but I don’t believe him. Here – have you seen this one?’

Riley hadn’t yet studied the wall. In the corner was a picture of the same woman with her arms around two strange creatures.

‘That must be us when we were small,’ remarked Riley.

Ed nodded. ‘Yes, that’s what I thought.’

‘We were cute in a weird kind of way. She
must
have been our mum. There’s no other explanation.’

‘That’s what I think too,’ agreed Ed. ‘How long has Dad been away for this time?’

‘Four weeks.’

‘I wonder what he does when he’s away. He never tells us anything,’ said Ed. ‘When is he coming back?’

‘Some time next week,’ said Riley. ‘We never know for sure. Sometimes he stays longer and sometimes he comes back early.’

A picture on the wall suddenly grabbed Riley’s attention. It was a scene at the convention and it was a view of the audience. He noticed a figure in the background, hiding amongst the chairs. He peered more closely.

‘Isn’t that the strange girl we met in Professor Kyle’s study who suddenly disappeared when Dad showed up?’

Ed studied it. ‘Yeah, it is.’

Riley noticed other details, such as the logo on their father’s notepad. There was something else too. ‘And look! There’s the man that Dad had been arguing with on that day! The one that wore the sunglasses and gloves.’

Ed followed his brother’s finger. ‘You spoke of him non-stop for two days afterwards.’

‘I remember him. He was watching us the whole time.’

‘They were all watching us,’ Ed reminded him.

‘No, but he was different. I can’t explain it. He was up to something, I’m sure of it.’

‘You have a very suspicious mind,’ noted Ed. ‘Must be something to do with all those crime novels you read.’

Riley shrugged, still wondering what the logo stood for and why he’d never seen it since.

‘Hey, Ed, have you ever seen Dad log on to his computer?’

‘Only once,’ said Ed. ‘I entered the room to ask him something. He was angry at me, though I didn’t know why.’

‘Could you draw me a picture of Dad logging on? I want to know his password.’

‘No!’ gasped Ed. ‘He’ll go mental!’

‘Only if he knows! But we’re not going to tell him. I want to know what the logo stands for and I’m sure Dad’s computer has the answer.’

Ed folded his arms, thinking hard. Making a face, he sat, pulled a pencil from his pocket and a sheet of paper off the desk, and began to draw a picture of the moment his father typed the password on to the screen. A minute later, he passed the sketch of the computer over to Riley. ‘Don’t tell Dad it was me who told you,’ said Ed.

Grinning broadly, Riley left to enter his father’s study, while Ed headed for the kitchen. He was still famished.

With Ed happily munching behind him, Riley sat at their father’s computer and entered the password, searching for further information concerning the logo he had seen in Ed’s drawing. The following words appeared.

Welcome to ‘Scientific Genetics Development’ where science has been given a whole new meaning.

There was a choice of items to click on: an introduction and case studies. Riley clicked on the introduction.

The words disappeared, replaced by a picture of a beautiful island with a magnificent mansion built like a fortress dominating the landscape, with turrets taller than the surrounding trees.

Riley read Ed the small caption below the picture. ‘Brandwell Hall is situated off the west coast of Devon on a small island known as Brandwell Island. It has been in the Brandwell family for five generations, since 1700, and was recently the location of Sir Brandwell’s scientific research to find a cure for cancer.’

The boys glanced at each other and raised their eyebrows.

A flashing icon read:
Click here for more information concerning Sir Brandwell
. Riley clicked.

Another picture appeared on the screen: a black and white photograph of their father or at least it certainly looked like him.

‘What’s a picture of Dad doing on the computer?’ asked Ed, frowning.

‘It’s not Dad, silly. This is Sir Brandwell, who was born in 1915. So you see, it can’t possibly be Dad. They must be related somehow. Here, I’ll read the information to you. Sir Charles Brandwell was born in 1915. He was an only child who had been privately tutored at home. He studied and excelled in all his studies, especially science. He had an extremely high IQ of 260 and became a member of Mensa. So it is of no surprise to learn that he went on to become one of the ablest scientists of all time until his mysterious death in 1989. His only son Roderick, also known as Sir Brandwell, followed his example and became a scientist. There’s no other information on him.’

‘Well, I hate to tell you this, but that is Dad! His facial structure is identical. And see, he has that exact small mole on his cheek. Trust me, it’s definitely him!’

‘But,’ whispered Riley, in confusion, ‘that picture was taken eighty years ago.’

Riley typed Sir Roderick Brandwell’s name into the computer’s search bar, but nothing happened. There was no further information: no date of birth or a picture. There was no mention of Sir Charles Brandwell’s parents either. Riley was disappointed.

‘Someone wanted to keep Roderick a secret,’ said Ed frowning, and glancing closely at the screen. ‘They must have made a mistake because it’s definitely a picture of Dad.’

Riley knew that Ed never forgot a face. He could distinguish between identical twins and remember their individual names. But was there a chance he could be wrong this time?

‘Go back and click on
case studies
,’ suggested Ed.

Suddenly a voice sounded from the speakers. Riley increased the volume.

‘Welcome to the guided tour of
Scientific Genetics Development
, where the work of Professor Snipes has been closely admired by few whilst kept secret from the rest of the world. One day we hope to publicise Professor Snipes’ greatest achievements of all time: subjects 28, 29, and 30. These three subjects will be the catalysts for recognition of Professor Snipes’ lifelong achievement. This is the story of the Amphiblet Triplets – otherwise known as the Frog Boys.’

The video footage showed someone adding a droplet of liquid to four glasses of water on a table. The drinks were then given to four people imprisoned in cells.

‘I wonder what it is,’ said Ed.

‘Are they being experimented on?’ said Riley, shocked. ‘That can’t be legal!’

After that the boys saw clips of three people in various stages of mutation until they no longer resembled anything human. Their bones had altered, transforming them into hideous creatures with crooked spines, faces distorted with pain. Their skin had darkened to ochre and was completely covered in wart-like lumps. They appeared to have lost the capacity for speech.

‘That’s disgusting!’ declared Ed.

‘Who could do such a terrible thing?’ gasped Riley.

‘Those poor people,’ said Ed. ‘I could murder whoever was responsible for hurting them like that.’

The footage continued and soon the face of the fourth person came into view. Both Riley and Ed gasped. It was the face of the woman who haunted Ed’s pictures. At first she appeared unaffected. But as the film went on they noticed her eyes began to mutate to look like theirs and her fingers and toes became webbed. In another scene she was lying on the floor with only a few blankets to keep her warm. Her face was dirty and her hair was matted. She had a noticeable swollen belly and was screaming at someone to leave her alone. She was filmed for several more seconds, in which she grew increasingly distressed. Then they heard a chilling laugh, sending shivers down their spines. 

‘That sounded like Dad laughing at her,’ said Ed in shock.

‘No! Dad wouldn’t do that!’ said Riley.

They continued to watch for several more minutes. Time passed and the young woman had given birth. That was the moment when the two boys got the shock of their lives for their father appeared on the screen in front of them, strolling into the cell.

‘Don’t take my babies!’ she screamed. ‘Please don’t take them. You’re not their father!’

‘I will be the only father they will ever know,’ said the Professor coldly. ‘I created them.’

‘Huh?’ whispered Ed, reeling from this shocking news.

‘Oh my God!’ said Riley, shaking. ‘He’s not our real dad.’

‘He’s a maniac!’ gasped Ed. ‘A freaking maniac!’

‘What are we going to do?’ said Riley. ‘We can’t stay here. Not now!’

‘Dad – or whoever he is – lied to us. He’s lied to us all our lives. He created us to be like this,’ screeched Ed, his voice steadily rising. ‘He experimented on Mum. He’s a monster!’

‘At least that explains why none of us take after him,’ said Riley.

They continued to watch the woman cradling a strange-looking baby. Riley turned to Ed, who had tears streaming down his face.

‘That’s you, Riley. Mum’s holding you.’ Ed wiped his tears on his T-shirt.

For a moment, Riley was speechless. ‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Trust me, I know,’ said Ed.

Riley couldn’t identify the babies and relied on Ed to tell them apart. Their mother continued to cuddle and laugh with them. When the time came for the babies to be separated from their mother, they saw the Professor drug her food with tablets.

‘He treated her as is she were some kind of animal,’ Ed said bitterly.

While she was heavily sedated, her distressed babies were stolen from her.

Riley covered his mouth with his hand. His world was crumbling around him. He couldn’t believe all the lies that their so-called dad had told them.

‘Genetic disorder, my foot!’ snapped Riley. ‘We were perfectly normal until he interfered with us.’

‘He stole us from our real mum!’ said Ed, angrily. ‘I can’t believe it! I feel sick.’

‘Here! There’s some more,’ said Riley.

‘I don’t know how much more I can take.’

The next section of clips showed Riley, Ed and Will as they progressed through childhood, revealing various stages of mutation and the effects on their physical bodies.

When the video ended, the truth uncovered. Struggling with a tornado of emotions that threatened to engulf him, Ed leant forward in his chair and, resting his face in his hands, sobbed.

Riley, who was someone who struggled to express his feelings, screamed as he ransacked the room, tearing books and hurling them at all four corners of the room. A moment later, the rage within Riley subsided and, seeing the damage he had done, he felt ashamed that he hadn’t been able to control his temper. Meanwhile, Ed was rocking back and forth, lost for words to express the horror of what they had witnessed.

‘I’m going to be sick!’ said Ed, running to the bathroom.

When Ed returned Riley placed his hand on his brother’s shoulders. ‘Are you okay?’

‘No, I want to find Mum.’

Riley nodded. ‘Me too! But right now we need to leave here as quickly as possible.’

‘And Hugo?’ asked Ed. ‘What if something has happened to him?’

‘We don’t know when Hugo will be back or where he is,’ said Riley. ‘He’s been gone for ages. We can’t wait. So pack your bag. We’re leaving within the hour.’