Forest Shadows (16 page)

Jars stared at the tangled growth on both sides of the stream. Reg was right in a way; there was nothing to see that was out of the ordinary, nothing to worry about. Not at the moment anyway.

But Reg was wrong too she couldn't help feeling, remembering Mr Wu's words as they danced in her head. They were not false words, not fantasy. The
Collectors
were real; she believed that, and for some reason they had chosen to take Mr Wu and Po-Yee with them to … wherever. Yes, there
was
something out of the ordinary happening and it
was
a worry.

Suddenly, her thoughts left her. She lifted her head. The bush had gone quiet, as quiet as a corpse. The birds had ceased their chatter; there was no longer any movement or rustling in the leaves or bushes, and even the river seemed to sleep.

Reg's words rang in her ears:
There's nothing to worry about except trees and scrub and those dark things you can see are just plain old shadows.
He was mistaken. Something was definitely out there, among the trees.

'T
hat's strange,' Evelyn said to Quigley as they crouched behind the undergrowth, watching, ‘I didn't hear any shots, but for some reason they've all left the shack anyway.'

‘Yes, for some reason they've gone down to the river. I wonder why?'

Evelyn stepped into the open and coming to a decision, said, ‘The
why
doesn't matter! The main thing is that the way is clear now. The treasure's unguarded. Forget what we said earlier about a diversion; we don't need it.' Calling for Quigley to follow, she sprinted towards the empty shack.

She burst through the open door of the shack and then waited, as Quigley, struggling for breath, caught up with her. They stood just inside the doorway and glanced over the room. ‘There it is!' Evelyn cried. ‘On the table.' She rushed over and picked up the hessian bag. She pressed it to her chest. ‘Finally!' she gasped, a little out of breath, too. ‘We've got it!'

She turned to leave but then froze. Her hands flew to her mouth, trying to stifle the scream that had stuck in her throat. The bag fell from her grasp and she stared … at the two silent creatures that stood before her.

They were tall, more than two metres high. Their bodies were stooped, covered in tiny, glistening scales and their arms were angled upwards as though worshipping, like large praying mantises. The sickening, almond smell that perme-ated the air around them like a thick, choking mist, caught in her throat. Her head spun and she felt faint. This can't be happening, she tried to tell herself. It isn't so. These
things
aren't real. They can't be.

That's when she saw Quigley. He was on all fours, his arms circling the leg of a chair. He was blubbering.

With some effort, her eyes never leaving the creatures, she forced herself to go to him.

He was still on his knees and his whole body shook as if in a seizure. He looked at her; then he lifted his head and screamed, 'No! No! Don't touch me. Leave me alone.'

‘Quigley, it's me. Evelyn. Get on your feet. We have to get out of here!'

The aliens continued to watch, their eyes boring into hers as though trying to read her mind as she struggled to help Quigley. Then, to her surprise, the two creatures, in a loping, slow motion gait, made their way over to the kitchen table. They turned and looked at Evelyn and Quigley who were still in a tangle on the floor. Then, from some invisible place on their bodies, they each produced a package. Looking towards the strange humans who were acting most peculiarly, they placed the packages on top of the table. As though their mission was complete, they crossed to the open door and disappeared.

Evelyn pleaded with him to get up. ‘They've gone!' She yelled in his ear. ‘We have to get out of here! They might come back!'

Like a beached whale, Quigley refused to move.

Evelyn grabbed the back of his jacket and with panic-like strength, hauled him to his feet. The treasure forgotten, Evelyn pushed Quigley through the doorway into the open. The sudden realisation that they were getting out of there seemed to revitalise Quigley a little, and with Evelyn helping, they staggered, half-running, half-walking, towards the path that would take them to back to their boat.

They barely heard the three rifle shots that suddenly shattered the forest's silence.

'H
unters!' Reg cried as soon as the shots were fired. ‘Stay here while I go look!' He raced into the forest with Shadow.

‘Wh-what's happening now?' Quenton said, whining again. ‘There's always something crazy going on in this stupid forest. Why can't we just go home?'

‘Somebody's shootin' somethin',' Snook said. ‘Reg'll sort it out.'

Following his sister's instructions, Hector had fired three shots into the air; then considering his job done, he had started to make his way back to her and Quigley. He couldn't believe his ears when he heard the shouts and crash of bushes a short distance behind him. It was too soon! They should still be in the shack! He wouldn't have time to escape. Not now!

His mind exploded with disbelief and like the bitter taste of bile, panic engulfed him. The enemy was closer now. He ran, his heart pounding as he forced his body forward, lengthening his stride, pumping his arms, fighting against the chest-high grasses and the low tree branches that grabbed at his legs and whipped his face. He threw the rifle away to free his arms, and pushed on, flailing and thrashing his way through the green tangle, his legs and arms pumping like windmills. He had to get away, lose whoever was chasing him. Somehow!

Reg, feeling the oily stickiness of sweat trickle down his face as he struggled to overtake the shooter, was also struggling. Too many hours behind a desk, he told himself. His legs felt heavy and his heart thumped against his chest. ‘We're gonna lose him,' he called out to Shadow, who was comfort-ably loping in front of him in no apparent hurry. ‘Go get him, Shadow! Seek 'im! Don't wait for me.'

Shadow didn't hesitate. He barked once, then raced ahead, easily dodging the bushes and trees.

Hector's body protested. His lungs were on the verge of exploding and his legs, like blocks of cement, were refusing to go any further. He needed to recover. He stopped for a moment. He wished he hadn't.

A deep-throated growl came from behind. He let out an arghhhh sound and leaped for a low-hanging branch. He tried to haul himself up, out of the dog's reach.

Shadow had different ideas.

Like a brown blur, he flew through the air, grabbing Hector by the seat of his pants. He hung on, legs dangling in the air. Cursing, Hector struck out with his legs, trying to shake him off. But Shadow, white spit dripping from his jaws, refused to let go.

Hector couldn't hang on any longer. His hands lost their grip and he fell to the ground, legs and arms spread-eagled as if he was staked to a cross.

Shadow leaped onto his chest, teeth inches from his face, his eyes staring into Hector's. He growled as white foamy spittle dripped from his fangs onto Hector's stunned face.
Don't dare move. Don't move an inch.

Shadow waited for Reg.

R
eg, with Shadow doing most of the work, shepherded Hector back to where Jars, Snook and Quenton were waiting. ‘Hey,' Snook said as soon as he saw who'd arrived with Reg. ‘I know you!' He jabbed a finger towards Hector. ‘You're that bird smuggler. I bet Shadow nabbed ya just like he did last year.'

Hector glared and spat in Snook's direction. ‘Watch it kid!' he snarled. ‘Or you and that dog will …'

Snook raised his eyebrows, ‘Will what? Anyway, where's the rest of your gang? Didn't you bring 'em with you?'

Jars gave Snook a nudge and pointed towards the path leading out of the woods. ‘Look over there; it's the Grimshaw lady and …'

‘Yes, you can say it. It's my dad.' Quenton said finishing the sentence for her.

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Jars didn't know how to reply, what to say next. ‘They're getting away,' she finally managed. ‘Shouldn't we go after them?'

Reg shrugged. ‘Why bother? They can only go in one direction – to the harbour, the same as us.' It was true. The Henty River came to a dead end at its source, and Hell's Gates was far too rough and treacherous for their little runabout. ‘We'll catch up with them in Strahan. As soon as we're on board
The
Shandora
, I'll get Snook's dad to radio ahead to let the Coast Guard know what's happening. They'll contact the police.'

‘What'll the police do?' Snook asked.

‘Arrest them for a start, I'd say. Hector will probably be charged with firing a rifle in a national reserve. As for the other two, I'd wager that they've definitely been up to no good. They sure looked guilty about something.'

Jars slapped the side of her head. A thought just struck her. ‘We left the shack unlocked. I bet they got in and were trying to steal Mr Wu's collection!'

Reg nodded. ‘You could be right. They don't have it now though. They weren't carrying anything. If stealing the treasure was on their mind, then something must have stopped them. Let's go back and find out.'

B
ack inside once more, Jars was the first to notice that the hessian bag containing the stones was lying on the floor. ‘It's been moved!' she said. ‘They were trying to steal Mr Wu's collection.' She bent over to pick it up.

‘Hold it by its edges,' Reg said. ‘There could be fingerprints.'

She looked inside. ‘I don't think anything's missing. The gold and opals are still here and look,
the crocoite, too!
Mr Wu's given it back! She reached in and took out one of the other specimens, holding it up for everyone to see. Everything else looks …'

‘Don't touch that!' Reg yelled, running over and swiping the crystal from her hand.

‘Wh-what's wrong, Reg? What did I do?' she asked; her mouth dropped open and her eyes studied the floor. She must have done something bad to cause Reg to act like that. It wasn't like him to act as he had.

‘Sorry if I frightened you,' Reg said, ‘but that crystal you picked up is realgar and it's dangerous. It's an arsenic sulphide. You can contract poisoning through the skin because it reacts with water – including sweat. Give me your hand.'

Still puzzled, Jars did as she was told. Reg lifted her outstretched hand, felt it and then sniffed. ‘Good,' he said. ‘No perspiration and no smell.'

‘What do you mean, no smell?'

‘If it had smelled like garlic I would have been worried. You would have been poisoned.'

Jars gulped. ‘How come? It doesn't look dangerous.'

‘Normally it isn't, but if it reacts with water and if you touch it, well, it gives off a poison that could enter your system. You were lucky. You had dry hands.' Using his handkerchief, he bent over and picked up the orange-red crystal. He put it back in the bag, which he placed back on the table. ‘The realgar was dry too. You were lucky again. It might have been wet. After all, you've just climbed through a waterfall and crossed a river with it on your back.'

Snook, who'd been standing open-mouthed during all this, stepped forward. ‘Geez, Jars. You could've croaked.'

Reg gave a half-smile. ‘Handling that stuff can definitely be dodgy but it's safe enough now.'

‘But what're these?' Snook asked, moving across the room. ‘There's two more bags on my bunk.' He picked them up ‘These weren't here before. Looks like they're made outta some foreign-lookin' material. See!' He held out one of the bags. ‘Have a look.'

Jars reached over and felt the material. ‘It's like nothing I've ever seen before. And there's something else.' Snook handed the two bags over. She held them up to her nose. ‘It's got a sort of almond smell.' She opened one of the bags, then the other. She looked inside. ‘It's the stolen crystals from Pearson's shop and that other place, the jewellery shop in Strahan! And guess what?' She put in her hand and pulled out another deli-cate, orange-red specimen much like the realgar. ‘It's Mr Wu's crocoite!'

Snook craned his neck to see. ‘This is all gettin' a bit much. I've only got a small brain, you know. What's it all mean?'

But Jars wasn't listening. She was thinking about the crocoite and how much it had meant to Mr Wu, how the aliens had wanted it to repair their spaceship. She was also wondering how and why it had suddenly appeared here now?

Then she understood. It was incredible, but it was the only explanation that made sense. The aliens had brought it. They had fixed their ship and had learned of Mr Wu's wish to give the crocoite to her. He must have told them. In her mind's eye, she could see Wu Han now with Po-Yee on his lap, sitting by his fire smiling and telling her what he wanted. Suddenly, she felt terribly sad. But she knew what she had to do now – return the rest of the stolen items to their owners.

‘C'mon, everybody,' Reg said, breaking the mood, ‘it's time to move out of here. We've got a boat to catch.'

'T
he boat's coming,' Jars said to the others. ‘I can hear it.' They were standing around next to the old jetty waiting.

The Shandora
drifted the last few yards alongside into shore. Jim stepped onto the jetty while Arnie held the boat steady.

‘What the … what's going on?' Jim's bottom jaw dropped. His mind filled with a thousand questions.
What was Hector Grimshaw doing here? Why were his wrists tied? Why is Snook looking so smug and pleased with himself?
He looked across at Snook. ‘Well?'

Snook pointed at Hector. ‘He was shootin' and his sister and Mr Quigley were tryin' to steal a treasure from us and there was this Mr Wu, he …'