March (16 page)

I didn’t stop running, apart from slowing down to stow the Riddle folder in my bag, until I thought I was going to be sick from exhaustion. I wasn’t sure where I was and my whole body was throbbing like crazy, but I didn’t care.
I’ve got it
! I thought. I’ve got the Ormond Riddle!

I couldn’t wait to have a look at it and see if there was a connection that would explain Dad’s drawings. But for now, I’d have to get out of town. Oriana would be after me with everything she had. I had stolen her precious Riddle. The city was way too small to hide me.

31 MARCH

276 days to go …

As the sun came up I found myself limping painfully along a narrow lane after only a couple of hours of sleep under a small bridge. I was worried about how Repro had managed to escape the clutches of Oriana’s bully boys. Right now I had no way of getting in touch with him to find out.

I decided to try my best and hold off on looking at the Riddle until I could call Boges and read over it with him. He was going to be so excited to hear that Repro and I had successfully snuck into Oriana’s place and stolen the documents from her study. And, most of all, he’d be stoked that we finally had the actual text of the Riddle to work on!

My whole body was aching with exhaustion, but I felt great. This was one of the massive breaks that we’d been searching for that was
finally going to get me some answers and help me out of this mess. This must have been how the famous archaeologists felt when they opened the tomb in the Valley of the Kings and, for the first time in thousands of years, light shone on Tutankhamun’s solid gold sarcophagus.

What was in my backpack meant that I’d be able to make more sense of Dad’s drawings. Had Oriana stolen the Riddle text from him? Or had she independently searched private collections to find it? With her contacts and position, that would be easier for her than most people.

I also had to let Boges know that I was going to try and make my way to Mount Helicon where my old aviator great-uncle lived. I didn’t know how I was going to get there, but I’d walk there if I had to.

I walked on and on, trying to get somewhere but feeling pretty sure I was getting nowhere.

A wise Eastern saying that Boges used to quote started running through my head—that within every crisis was an opportunity—when a dusty pick-up truck turned a corner and almost collected me with its tray.

As I jumped back onto the footpath, to let
the pick-up truck go past me, I saw a sudden opportunity. I made a split-second decision and grabbed the edge of the tray and launched myself up onto the back, rolling across some of the junk in there.

It was such a relief to be off my legs—they were both throbbing with pain—but I’d been crazy to think that the driver wouldn’t notice me, no matter how reckless he was. I bumped along in the back of the tray for a couple of hundred metres until the truck slowed near a quiet spot along the road and pulled over.

The driver was getting out before I’d even had a chance to get to my feet; typically, he was built like a mallee bull, with broad shoulders, a thick neck and hair brushed back from a very angry, sunburned face.

‘You! Get off my truck! What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

Too tired to argue, and too exhausted to beg, I threw my backpack onto the road and slowly clambered down.

‘Let’s take a look at what you’ve got in here,’ said the driver, picking up my backpack and rifling through it. ‘What do you think you’re trying to do, jumping into the back of my vehicle?’

He was too big to argue with.

He pulled all my stuff out—clothes, the folder from Oriana’s office, which he didn’t bother to open—and dug right down to the bottom to find the other tranquilliser syringes. Luckily, he’d overlooked the track detonators.

‘What’s this? Drugs?’ He stared at me.

‘They’re veterinarian supplies,’ I said. ‘Look at the box. It says so.’

He read the label, and then looked up at me again. ‘So what have you got these for?’

‘I’m taking them to my great-uncle in the country,’ I said, without thinking. ‘He has a farm in Mount Helicon. That’s where I’m headed.’

The guy gave me a hard look, which was interrupted by a mobile phone ringing in the truck. He looked down at his watch and then quickly started shoving everything back into the backpack.

‘Take it and get lost!’ he said as he threw the bag at me. It hit me so hard that I nearly fell over. I was glad he didn’t want to search my pockets or he would have found the capsicum spray. That wouldn’t have been so easy to explain.

He ran back to his truck and then sped off like a lunatic, sending gravel shooting up at my face.

I could hardly walk now. Every step I took was like walking on hot coals. It wasn’t just my feet hurting from the running, but the injuries on both of my legs that had been healing so well seemed inflamed and irritated by my jump from the tree at Oriana’s.

Somehow, I had to get out of the city even if it meant walking all the way in agony.

Slowly, wincing with every step, I trudged along, hoping to find the main road west.

I heard a vehicle approaching and swung around to see who it was driving up behind me on the road.

My heart sank. It was the pick-up truck again. I didn’t have the strength to deal with any more trouble. I couldn’t run any further.

The truck pulled right alongside me. I braced myself, not knowing what to expect.

‘OK, get in,’ the guy called out through the open window.

I stared at him blankly.

‘I’ve missed this morning’s delivery already, and I told myself I’d pick you up if you were still here wandering along this road.’

I hesitated. I wasn’t sure what to do.

‘What are you waiting for? You want a lift or not?’ said the driver, leaning across to unlock the door.

The thought of being able to sit back and rest up while being driven closer to my destination was way too much to pass up. I climbed in.

‘Look, about before,’ he said, ‘bad morning, bad mood. There was no need for me to take it out on a kid … although you really shouldn’t jump into the back of a moving vehicle.’

‘I know, sorry about that.’

‘The name’s Lachlan Drysdale.’

‘Tom,’ I said, as we shook hands.

‘So where exactly are you going, Tom?’

‘My great-uncle’s property,’ I said, probably a little carelessly, ‘in the Highlands. Mount Helicon.’

‘I can take you part of the way. You look pretty wrecked.’

‘I am,’ I agreed. ‘As far as you can would be great, thanks.’

I rested my backpack against the window, and let my head fall on it.

I woke up with a jolt, yelling and struggling, totally confused. Suddenly, I stopped, looking around with embarrassment, remembering where I was.

I was in the cabin of Lachlan Drysdale’s truck. The countryside was whipping past outside. I felt like a total idiot.

I looked over at him.

‘You must have been having some nightmare,’ he said.

‘Where are we?’ I asked, struggling to sit up straight and look out at the landmarks around me. It seemed like we were well into the countryside now—thick bush grew along the roadside, the occasional homestead set back from the road, willow trees trailing their green ribbons along the river. It had been the rattling bridge crossing that had woken me up.

‘You were out to it for ages. That must have been a powerful dream,’ laughed Lachlan. ‘You were kicking and thrashing around like the devil was after you!’

‘It was full-on,’ I said, recalling the terrifying dream of moments ago. I’d been in the sea again with the sharks circling, when the Ormond Angel—who was now Winter—pulled me out of the water and threw me on the shore. But the white toy dog with blazing yellow eyes taunted me. It held the memory stick that he’d stolen from Jennifer Smith just out of my reach. I’d tried to grab it from him but suddenly the dog morphed into my double, and he was trying to kill me!

‘Someone was after me,’ I explained lamely.

‘Well I hope you got away, buddy,’ Lachlan joked. ‘So Tom, what’s your story?’

‘My story?’ I said, worried for a second that he knew who I was. ‘Pretty simple really. I had to leave school and get a job. Family difficulties.’ That much at least was true. ‘But I thought I’d visit my old great-uncle first. He might know of some work.’

Lachlan nodded as if he understood. ‘I’m hoping to start a new job, too. Big property in the riverland district. It’s hard finding work in the country.’ He frowned and turned to me. ‘Wouldn’t there be more work in the city?’

‘I need to be outside. Can’t stand that indoor work.’

‘I know what you mean,’ he nodded.