Double-Cross (15 page)

I took a deep breath. I could feel Dylan beside me, peering anxiously over my shoulder. We were about to get our hands on the film of Geri Paterson’s confession . . . the evidence that would enable us to expose Geri, clear our names and go home.

I reached down and lifted the lid of the box.

For a second, there was silence as Dylan and I stared inside, unable to believe what we were seeing.

And then the room filled with noise as the bank’s security alarm pierced the air.

16: Inside the Box

The box was empty apart from a piece of white card. I stared at it, the alarm screaming around me, as the vault door slammed shut.

‘No!’ Dylan raced across the room.

Five words were written in black ink:
Better luck next time, Nico!

My heart plummeted to my shoes. This whole thing had been a trap.

‘Nico!’ Dylan yelled. ‘Open the vault door!’

I looked up, trying to focus on the door. I raised my hands, but I couldn’t concentrate. Blood pounded in my ears. My whole body was shaking.

The noise of the alarm pierced through my skull. Beside me, Cal was yelling.

I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breath . . . to calm down.

‘Come on, Nico!’ Dylan shouted.

I opened my eyes and, taking a long breath from deep inside my stomach, I gave it everything I had. It worked. The door slid open.

Dylan, already right beside it, raced outside. Cal and I ran after her. Back down the corridor. Bank personnel were milling about, all talking at the tops of their voices. A security guard – gun in outstretched arm – lunged into the corridor ahead of us.

‘Stop!’ he yelled.

Dylan stopped instantly, flinging her arms wide to protect me and Cal. Her hand gripped my arm and I felt the energy of her force field flow around me, just as it had outside the explosion at Wardingham a few days ago.

She turned, her eyes wild.

‘Run!’ she shrieked.

The three of us pounded down the corridor.

‘Stop or I’ll shoot!’ the guard yelled.

‘Keep going!’ Dylan shouted.

We ran on. I darted sideways, through an open door into an empty storeroom, momentarily losing Dylan’s hand on my arm.

Behind us the guard fired a shot into the ceiling. I jumped.

‘He missed,’ Cal hissed. ‘It’s okay.’

We raced through the storeroom, into an office. I was leading the way, following the open doors. But I had no idea where I was going . . . or how on earth we were going to get out of this bank.

Nico . . . where are . . . ?
All of a sudden Ed appeared in my head.

Not now
, I thought-spoke.

Ed vanished.

And then a man dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans, a mask pulled over his face, lurched in front of us. I raised my hands, ready to haul him out of our way, but to my surprise the man stepped back, pointing ahead of him down the corridor.

I blinked, taking in what he was showing us. A few metres along the wall was a small hole – about the size of a large pet flap. The man pointed again, then raced to the hole. He tugged at a crumbling piece of brick. I bent down. The hole led outside – into daylight.

‘Through here,’ he said, his voice muffled by the mask over his mouth.

Behind us another shot fired. I didn’t hesitate. I scrambled through the hole and stood up. The sun glared in my eyes. I could just make out that we were in a car park.

I felt a hand on my arm. The man in the mask led me past the cars to a van parked just a couple of metres away.

‘In the back,’ he ordered.

‘Wait!’ I looked around.

Dylan and Cal were beside me, looking as alarmed as I felt.

‘Who are you?’ I demanded.

The alarm was still shrieking out of the bank. In the distance we could hear police sirens.

‘There’s no time,’ the man said. His voice was still muffled, but I was certain I didn’t know him.

‘No.’ I raised my hands.

Instantly, the man whipped out a small can. He pressed the top and an odourless liquid squirted out. A fine spray coated all three of us, hitting me right in the face.

I blinked, shocked, then raised my hand to teleport the can away. But as soon as I tried, I knew that my telekinesis had gone. All the psychic power had drained out of me like water out of a leaking bucket.

My heart raced.

The man opened the back of the van and jerked his head to indicate we should get inside.

I glanced at Dylan. From her expression I was guessing that she was experiencing the same block on her abilities that I was.

The man pocketed his spray can and took out a gun. ‘I’m not asking again.’

I tried to jerk the gun out of his hand.

It didn’t work. I had no idea what was happening. But I could see we had no choice.

I hauled myself into the back of the van. Dylan and Cal followed right after me. I turned as the man slammed the door shut. As soon as we were inside, I tried to open it telekinetically. Nothing happened.

As the van’s engine roared into life, I turned to Dylan.

‘I’ve lost my Medusa power.’

‘Me too.’ Her eyes were wide and desperate. ‘I can’t protect myself.’

The horror of this filled me as the van screeched round a corner. My eyes were getting used to the darkness. The back of the van was completely empty.

Cal was backed into a corner, his head in his hands. Suddenly I was sure Cal was behind everything that had happened.

‘I
knew
we shouldn’t have told you what we were planning.’ I lunged across the van and hurled myself at him. ‘What have you done?’

I shoved Cal in the chest. He stumbled backwards.

‘I didn’t do anything,’ he gasped. ‘This guy’s got me, too. I
can’t fly.
Why would I do that to myself?’

‘He’s right, Nico, think it through,’ said Dylan.

I staggered backwards, panting for breath. I sat down, bent over my knees, my head in my hands.

If Cal was telling the truth, then who had taken us?

Why was the film of Geri’s confession no longer in that safety deposit box?

And what on earth had happened to our psychic abilities?

Another ten minutes or so passed. We barely spoke, all three of us in shock. And then the van stopped with a jolt.

A second later the back door opened. The man, still wearing his mask, beckoned us out. I reached out my hands, trying to move him telekinetically.

Again, nothing happened.

I jumped down, feelings of frustration and fear shooting through me.

The van was parked outside a small detached house. I glanced down the street. A copse of trees opposite, then more houses in the distance. Maybe we could make a run for it.

‘Don’t think about it, Nico.’ The man had followed my gaze.

As I turned towards him, he brandished his gun, then pointed towards a door in the side of the house. I followed Cal and Dylan through, along a short corridor and into a small, stuffy room.

No furniture. No windows

The four of us stood in silence for a second.

‘Who are you?’ I said.

The man pulled off his mask.

He looked straight at me. ‘You know who I am, Nico. You saw me the other day. I just left you a note in my safety deposit box.’

I stared back at him. He was right. A million questions flooded my head. But before I could ask any of them, the man smiled, his dark brown eyes crinkling as his gaze shifted from me to the others.

‘Dylan . . . Cal . . . we haven’t met, but the pleasure is mine,’ he said in a crisp English accent. ‘I’m Rod McMurdo.’

17: The Deal

The whitewashed room McMurdo had brought us into was completely bare. Cal and Dylan stood on either side of me.

‘What do you want?’ I demanded.

McMurdo drew the white card with the words
Better luck next time, Nico!
from out of my pocket.

‘I want you to do something for me, Nico,’ he said. ‘That’s why I saved you back at the bank.’

‘How did you even know we’d be there?’ I said, glancing suspiciously at Cal.

‘After I saw you outside the art gallery earlier I sent a security guard to follow you.’

‘He
saw
you?’ Dylan turned on me accusingly.

I kept my eyes on McMurdo, who smiled.

‘Didn’t Nico mention it?’ he said lightly. ‘Well, anyway, the guard followed you as far as Avery Jones’s car. He saw you all drive off together. There are two others, aren’t there – a boy and a girl?’

I stared at him. No way was I giving away any information about Ketty or Ed. I glanced sideways at Cal and Dylan. They looked as determined to keep silent as I was.

‘Ah, well,’ McMurdo went on. ‘So there you all were with Avery Jones and I started wondering what Avery could possibly want with me after all this time. So I did a little investigation into what’s been going on in England and – to cut a long story short – after an hour or so I realised you must be after my film of Geri Paterson’s confession to murder. Since then, I’ve been keeping a watch on the bank where the film was hidden, taking care to remove it first, of course.’ He smiled again. ‘One thing still mystifies me – how did you know for sure where it was? Did you use your Medusa abilities? I mean, that safety deposit box you got into . . . the number was never written down and I never told anyone. Is one of you a telepath of some kind?’

I stared at him.

‘None of
us
can read minds,’ Dylan snapped.

McMurdo shrugged. ‘Well, perhaps one of the others can. Anyway, his work is impressive.’

I made a small movement with my hands, attempting to teleport McMurdo off the floor. It was no good. My telekinesis was totally gone.

‘You’re stopping us using our abilities,’ I said.

‘That’s right.’ McMurdo nodded. ‘The spray I used on you contains a chemical called Medutox that prevents the neural pathways linked to your Medusa powers from firing. I’m releasing it into this room, too – you’re breathing it right now. Don’t worry, its effects will wear off once you’re no longer exposed.’

So that was why I couldn’t move anything with my mind and why Dylan had lost her force field and Cal could no longer fly.

With a jolt, I realised that it also explained why Ed had not made remote telepathic contact since we’d been shut inside the van. He was probably trying . . . but we were unable to hear him.

‘So, if you’ve created some antidote, then you admit Geri Paterson sold you the Medusa gene?’ Dylan said, tight-lipped.

McMurdo looked at her. ‘Ah, Dylan . . . I’ve often wondered if I would ever meet you. I’ve always felt terrible that the Medusa gene robbed you not just of your beautiful mother, like the others, but your father, too.’

‘I don’t care how you feel.’ Dylan crossed her arms. ‘You took the gene code from Geri even though you knew she’d murdered both my parents. You’re no better than she is.’

‘Excuse me, but I disagree,’ McMurdo said patiently. ‘Geri gave me the gene code because your dad . . . William Fox . . . was . . . er, a difficult man to deal with and she thought I might be more amenable. She was in a hurry . . . She hadn’t had time to copy the gene code, not that she would have understood any of its references. Geri is not a scientist.’ He paused. ‘She gave me the code because I’d promised to work for her, but when she realised I had no intention of doing so, she wanted the gene code back. Naturally, I refused. I mean, I had Geri’s confession on film – evidence she killed William and Ashley Fox. It was a stalemate, so Geri left.’

‘What have you done with the film of her confession?’ Dylan demanded.

McMurdo jerked his head to indicate the rest of the house. ‘It’s here,’ he said. ‘It’s safe.’ He hesitated. ‘I didn’t know at the time that using the Medusa gene would result in the deaths of the mothers who carried the Medusa babies. I think, looking back, that Geri didn’t tell me deliberately – as a sort of revenge for double-crossing her.’

‘So you used the gene on me,’ Cal said furiously. ‘You persuaded my dad to let you experiment on me?’

‘Both your parents agreed to give it a try,’ McMurdo said. ‘None of us thought anyone would suffer as a result. I didn’t use it again. Not on a real person. Unlike Avery, I’ve never been interested in the developmental effects of the gene. Only in controlling it.’