Island of Fog (Book 1) (15 page)

She hurried to the bottom of the staircase and pounded up the iron steps. The staircase rattled as she went. Hal followed close behind, his nerves jangling.
What were they doing?
But it was far too late for second thoughts. The gates were buckled and the door was in pieces. They were in
big trouble
. Yet at the same time he felt they were on the verge of something extraordinary.

Lauren cast a glance back at the door as if waiting for Robbie. Then she started up the steps.

“Last one up’s a fat old goblin!” Abigail called from above, giggling.

Hal wished she would keep her voice down. He pounded up the stairs after her, around and around. With no window at ground level, the first was as high as a bedroom in a two-story house. The second was higher than he’d ever been before, and excitement turned to mild anxiety as he passed the third and fourth. From outside, the lighthouse was only visible up to about the fifth window, so as he passed that small opening and saw the fog pressing against the glass, Hal knew they were ascending into the realms of the unknown.

The fog outside the sixth window was just as dreary as the fifth. But, even before he got there, Hal could see a bright patch of square light on the wall opposite the seventh and final window. Sunlight! Climbing those last few steps and approaching that window, he had to squint a little in the brightness. It was still a white haze of nothingness outside, but it was the brightest white haze of nothingness he’d ever seen.

He caught up to Abigail, who stood on a wrought iron platform looking up at the underside of a wooden floor. The steps had run out.

At this height, eight floors up including the windowless ground level, the diameter of the tower had halved. The small, circular room at the top felt small and claustrophobic, a mere seven or eight feet across. Above them, stout oak beams formed the underside of another level. A ladder led up through a square opening, through which bright light flooded.

Lauren and Dewey joined them, and together they huddled on the platform. Far below, the sounds of more echoing footsteps sounded as Darcy and Emily came hurrying up. Hal wondered briefly whether Robbie was having any difficulty changing back into his normal self.

“A hundred and sixty-eight steps,” Abigail said breathlessly. “Only a few more to go.” She started up the ladder and disappeared through the opening. Seconds later, she let out a high-pitched squeal. “You’ve
got
to see this!”

Hal clambered up after her, his heart thumping.

The first thing that went through his mind was:
Bright! Very bright! Dazzlingly bright!
He shielded his eyes and glanced around, taking in the detail of the room through fluttering eyelids. Windows lined the entire perimeter except where there was a narrow doorway leading outside. In the center of the room stood what looked like an enormous bicycle lamp set on an ornate iron pedestal bolted to the floor. The space around it was tight and, blinking furiously, Hal rubbed shoulders with the windows as he circled around after Abigail.

She spun and squinted at him, one hand held like a visor at her forehead to shield the brightness. “Look at the view!”

“I’m trying,” Hal said. “It’s so bright up here that I can’t—”

Lauren appeared behind him. “Oh my gosh, it’s so warm!”

It
was
warm. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, and the heat in the glass-walled circular room was intense. Together, Hal and Lauren started opening the old black-framed windows, peering through slatted fingers, still unable to take in the view but getting hints of blue. How come Abigail’s eyes had adjusted so quickly to the glare?

“Let’s go out this door to the balcony,” Abigail said, pulling on the doorknob. She struggled for a moment, and then the door squeaked open. A strong draft breezed across the room as she stepped outside.

“It’s a gallery,” Dewey said absently, who had stuck his head into the room.

Hal and Lauren jostled in the narrow doorway, and Lauren won. She stepped outside and gasped, then pressed herself back against one of the windows.

Hal followed her out, and his feet clanged on a metal grid floor. Breathing hard, he grasped the black iron railings. His leg muscles tightened and his knuckles turned white as he edged around the gallery. Dewey came out after him.

There stood Abigail, squinting hard under the shield of her hand. She was basking in bright yellow sunlight, her dark brown hair shining like it had never shone before. She turned to him, a huge grin across her face. “Out There,” she said, and pointed.

The four of them stared out over the fog. It rose like steam off a wet road on a warm day, only a thousand times thicker—an impenetrable whiteness that smothered their island and obscured fields, forests, hills, and houses. It filtered up through the iron grid flooring, smoking around their feet as they stood and stared. It was hard to believe they’d spent their entire lives groping around in that suffocating stuff, breathing it in, oblivious to the bright blue sky above, with its hot yellow sunlight. They’d been content with the murky fog for so long, always dreaming of a blue sky but never expecting to see it. And now here they were, for the first time feeling its warmth, breathing in its fresh, clean air.

How could they ever be content with gloomy surroundings ever again?

Perhaps that was the point. If they’d really understood what was Out There, seen its beauty firsthand, then how happy and content would they have been growing up in such a dreary, damp environment?
Not content at all
, Hal guessed. Now he fully understood one aspect of the adults’ secrecy: why they never talked about Out There. The children couldn’t very well miss what they never had.

Beyond the wispy perimeter of the fog lay a narrow band of clear, glittering water that separated them from a land mass that spanned the horizon.

Out There.

Hal’s worries slipped away as he contemplated the deep blue sky, the rolling green hills, and the serenity of the bay. It was hard to fret over incidental things like breaking into a lighthouse when faced with such stunning, natural beauty.

He remembered how he and Robbie had taken the raft out into the fog. They’d been paralyzed with fear about getting lost. Looking down on the clear blue sea now, he wished and wished they had been able to keep rowing, to emerge suddenly from the fog and to see the mainland ahead. But of course, the sea serpent would never have let them.

Hal glanced sideways at Lauren. Her hair blew gently in the breeze, and as he watched, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, a smile playing across her face. To his other side, Dewey looked as though he’d been slapped hard across the face—dazed and silent, his mouth open.

At that moment, Emily and Darcy came out onto the gallery, gasping and squinting. Darcy was mumbling something over and over, while Emily’s reaction was quite a bit noisier. She screamed and squealed, jumping up and down while holding onto the handrail. It hurt Hal’s ears, but he couldn’t help laughing.

And finally Robbie arrived, back to his normal self and fully clothed. Hal couldn’t quite see his reaction because Dewey, Darcy and Emily were in the way, but he imagined Robbie was as excited and stunned as the rest of them.

If only Fenton were here
, he thought. Perhaps something like this would have mellowed Fenton for life. It seemed a great shame that he should miss out on this adventure.

“Pass me the binoculars, Emily,” Hal said, suddenly remembering that she had brought them along.

Emily’s gaze never left the spectacular scenery as she slowly removed the binoculars from around her neck and passed them to Dewey, who in turn passed them to Lauren, nudging her first to get her attention. When Lauren blinked and looked down, she seemed surprised to find the binoculars in her hands. Hal gently plucked them from her.

Lauren looked like someone had just eaten her last cookie. She pouted and looked longingly at the binoculars as Hal took them. “I’m next after you,” she said firmly.

The binoculars were large and heavy, with a handy leather strap. Afraid of dropping them, Hal slung the strap around his neck, then brought the glasses to his eyes. After a bit of focusing he found himself on a beach over on the mainland. “Wow!” he exclaimed. “These things are amazing!”

Hal followed the sandy beach slowly, trying to identify the junk that was strewn all over—the remains of old campfires with broken bottles and empty cans scattered everywhere, an old fisherman’s boot, a couple of small rowing boats propped up with rocks and sticks to form a make-shift shelter, even an old rusted car sunk into the sand.

Tracking upwards a little, Hal found a road running alongside the beach. It too was littered with junk. Cars stood abandoned, many of them twisted and dented from collisions, some blackened from fire, all with flat tires and broken windows. Weeds had grown up around them from cracks in the paved surface. One car had a small tree growing out of its open hood.

Beyond the road and spreading up a gentle incline into the hills, houses of all shapes and sizes stood silent with doors standing wide open or hanging off their hinges. Many windows were broken, and tattered curtains hung fluttering in a breeze. Whatever small front lawns these homes once had were now so overgrown with weeds that they looked like a series of miniature forests separated by short picket fences. Hal had seen plenty of this kind of thing on the island already, with all those empty houses down by the docks, but on the mainland there were literally
hundreds
of houses, maybe
thousands
.

“Are you finished yet?” someone asked him.

Hal was so engrossed that he wasn’t even sure who had spoken. “Nearly,” he said. “One thing’s for sure—no one lives Out There that I can see. The whole place was abandoned long ago, just as Miss Simone said.”

Further south was the city center. Hal knew what it was because he’d seen pictures of cities before—impossibly tall buildings towering into the sky. He didn’t need the binoculars to see these buildings, but the glasses showed him that the surrounding roads, in particular one huge elevated highway that swept around in an arc, were as still and silent as the coastal road.

With a sigh he handed the binoculars to Lauren. “It’s a mess,” Hal said. “Can’t see a sign of life anywhere.”

“That doesn’t mean there isn’t any,” Abigail said. “The city may be dead, but there could be large groups of people living somewhere. Maybe they wouldn’t spread out all across the city, but collect together like a small community—sort of like us here on the island.”

“On the other hand there might not be anyone left alive at all,” Lauren said quietly. She handed the glasses to Abigail. “Here, take a look. It’s pretty grim.”

“I just thought,” Robbie said, “that since we’re standing up here above the fog . . . does that mean we’re breathing contaminated air?”

There was a long silence.

Darcy spoke first. “If we are, it doesn’t seem to be affecting us.”

“Not
yet
anyway,” Emily said. “It might take a while.”

“Or maybe we won’t be affected at all,” Abigail said, passing the binoculars back down the line. “We’ve never been sick in our lives. My mom’s always saying how we have excellent immune systems. I wonder if that’s something to do with how we can change into monsters. Perhaps our bodies are somehow able to repair themselves when they get sick.”

“Or perhaps there’s no virus at all now,” Hal mused. “Hey, speaking of monsters . . . Lauren, when are you going to show us what you can turn into?”

Suddenly all eyes were on Lauren. She blushed. “Well, right now, if you like. As long as you don’t look at me like I’m a . . . um . . .”

“Freak?” asked Abigail. “No, you’re not a freak. None of us are. We’re just special.” She gave a smirk and rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what we are, but I think we should all find out for ourselves before we let Miss Simone get her clammy hands on us. Maybe together we’ll be in control of the situation, rather than being scared witless by what’s happening to us.”

There was a murmur of agreement.

“Okay,” Lauren said, sounding nervous now. “Um. I need all of you to go away, though. Why don’t you all go downstairs and stand outside? I’ll be down in a minute. I need to, um, undress.”

Hal nodded, fully understanding. “Come on, guys.”

They all took one last look Out There and hurried downstairs, leaving Lauren alone. With seven pairs of footsteps pounding down the noisy, rattling spiral staircase, it was a wonder the whole thing didn’t come loose and collapse.

Outside, the fog felt more cold and damp than it ever had before. Just a few minutes outside in the sunshine had shown them what they were missing. Hal was determined to block up that fog-hole in Black Woods now. He was convinced that, together, they could easily overcome the manticore. Together they could overcome
anything
.

They all stood waiting for Lauren, listening hard for her footfalls on the staircase. But no sounds came. Was she still on the gallery? Or in the lamp room?

“How long do you think—” Hal started to say—but at that moment there was a scream from above, and they all looked up just in time to see a figure plummeting out of the fog.

Lauren’s fallen off the gallery!
Hal thought in horror. His heart froze as the figure fell like a stone.
Was
it Lauren, though? It was a snowy-white blur, arms and legs flailing. But at the last moment, huge white wings snapped open and the figure somehow arced out of the dive and soared low to the ground, barely missing it. It looked like an eagle about to pounce on its prey, and for a moment Hal felt sure
he
was the prey as the figure hurtled toward him with yellow eyes, a white-furred face, and enormous, powerful wings like that of a giant snowy owl.

The creature soared over their heads so fast and low that they all ducked and caught a great whoosh of air. They heard Lauren’s familiar laugh, and Hal slowly rose to watch as she gently flapped and angled her great wings so that she circled the grounds at a colossal speed. She whooped as she came back over their heads, causing another powerful downdraft.

When she circled around once more, slower this time, Hal and the others were able to get a proper look at her. She had burning yellow eyes, sleek but muscular shoulders, and slender arms with long, bird-like hands and fingers. A shaggy white mane covered her upper body, shoulders, hips and thighs, but below the elbows and knees the hair thinned to short cropped fur. In place of her shiny brown hair, white locks streamed from her head.

She swooped closer and then upwards, coming to a graceful stop in mid-air about twenty feet off the ground, wings outspread, before dropping lightly onto bird-like feet. Her wings folded behind her.

“That was so cool,” Abigail said finally. “Honestly, Lauren, you’re—”

“I had a bit of a fright though,” Lauren said in her normal voice, with just a hint of a rasp. “I’ve flown around before, swooping here and there, but have never been able to fly very high. It’s like I grow all heavy and my wings can’t hold me up. This time I thought it would be neat to fly down off the lighthouse. But for a second there my wings didn’t do anything at all—I just dropped like a stone.”

“We saw,” Hal said. “I nearly wet myself.”

“I thought you were a goner,” Robbie agreed. He was looking a little pale.

Abigail nudged him with her elbow. “Aww, Robbie. Did you nearly lose your sweetheart?”

“Shut up,” he snapped, the color flooding back into his face.

“So what
are
you?” Hal asked. “Some sort of bird-girl?”

Lauren shrugged, and the fluffy feathers of her wings shook. “I have no idea.” She glanced up at the lighthouse. “One of you is going to have to go up and get my clothes. I don’t think I can fit through that doorway and up the stairs with these wings.”

“I’ll go,” Robbie said, taking a step forward.

But Emily stopped him. “You will
not
,” she said crossly. “I’ll get them.”

Robbie looked so baffled that Abigail squealed with laughter. “Robbie,
Robbie
. A girl must maintain some degree of modesty, you know. And that includes keeping her clothing, and especially her underwear, out of the hands of boys.”

Lauren seemed amused. Her white furry face was still human in structure and her smile was the same as ever—complete with dimples. Her teeth were a little different though, with a few vicious-looking fangs that had no business being in the mouth of such a sweet girl.

“Who’s next?” Abigail said, looking around. “You’ve all seen my faerie wings—not as spectacular as Lauren’s though. Robbie’s done his ogre thing. Your turn now, Hal. Let’s see what you can do.”

But before he could say anything, Emily called from the lighthouse door. She hadn’t even made it up the stairs yet. “Hey, look at this! Come and see.”

They hurried over to the doorway. Emily stood there holding up some strange green garments. “Look familiar?”

She was holding a one-piece dress or frock made with some fine silky material and decorated with hundreds of tiny sparkling gems. The dress had short sleeves and buttons on the front, and the hem was a patchwork of different color greens in a complex pattern of leaves. It was very organic in nature.

“Looks like Miss Simone’s dress,” Darcy said, fingering the hem. “A bit like it, anyway. Same sort of material. Why do you suppose it’s here? It can’t be hers—it’s too small.”

“There are lots of dresses,” Emily said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “Those four wooden crates in there are full of clothes just like this—not all dresses, but boys clothes too. And all of it is for children, not adults.”

Everyone but Lauren rushed inside and started pulling garments out of the crates. Every item seemed at first glance to be the same, but each was different in subtle ways—a whole wardrobe of clothing to match Miss Simone’s.

“This stuff must be for us,” Emily said, her eyes shining. “I can’t imagine why, but it’s like Miss Simone brought clothes from Elsewhere for us to wear.”

“Let me see,” Lauren called from the doorway. Emily threw her a dress.

“Nice pants,” said Dewey, holding them up.

They were the same patchwork of greens as the dresses, only without the glitter. Hal agreed with Dewey—they actually looked pretty cool. He searched through a crate for similar pants and a shirt to match.

“There must be hundreds of things here,” Emily said, obviously delighted with her find. “They’re all different sizes though—look.” She held up two dresses, one that looked like it would fit her, and another that was several sizes smaller. “I suppose Miss Simone had to allow for our growth. I just wonder why nobody gave these clothes to us. They’re beautiful!”

“This is weird,” Lauren said from outside the doorway. “Look at this.” Her huge white wings pressed against the frame as she leaned inside to show them. She held up the dress in front of her and turned it around and around. “See? Completely intact? Now watch.” She pulled the dress closer to her body, and suddenly, inexplicably, a gap appeared in the back, a sort of tear down the middle of the green fabric that widened to an oval. “Hey presto, a hole!”

As if performing a conjuring trick, Lauren’s bright yellow eyes gleamed and she grinned a toothy grin. “But that’s not all. Watch again.”

She slowly moved the dress away from her body, pushing it out to arm’s length and letting it hang so they could all see the mysterious opening at the back. As the dress moved away from her, the hole closed and sealed itself up.

“What?” exclaimed Hal and Robbie together.

Abigail grabbed the dress from Lauren’s hands. “There’s no sign of damage.”

“Do that again!” said Dewey.

Lauren did so, over and over, with the same effect each time. When she drew the dress close to her body, the gap appeared in the back; and when she pushed it away, the gap closed. She tried different dresses with the same result. She even tried a boy’s shirt, and the same thing happened.

Yet nobody else could perform this trick.

They spent some time going through the clothes and testing them to no avail, and came to the conclusion that Lauren herself was causing the effect. On a hunch, Abigail stepped outside with Lauren and sprouted her own wings. Then, astonishingly, the trick worked for her too.

Everyone exclaimed in unison as light dawned. “These are
smart
clothes!” Hal said. “Somehow they know when we change, and they adapt to fit.”

“Yes!” Emily squealed with excitement. She clapped her hands together. “That’s it! Both Lauren and Abigail have wings, so if they were wearing these dresses, big holes would appear in the back to allow their wings to grow.”

Lauren took a dress and hurried away to the back of the generator building, calling over her shoulder, “Back in a minute!”

The others returned to the crates and picked out something they thought would fit. Moments later, Lauren returned, human again, and wearing her dress. It fit her nicely, and she looked comfortable with her light, knee-length attire. “It works!” she said, her face red with excitement. “Look.”

She screwed up her face in concentration. In the blink of an eye, fine white fur erupted from her skin, her shoulders bulged, her arms stretched, and her wings sprouted once more. Her green dress appeared to remain unchanged . . . and yet, curiously, it must have altered its cut to fit Lauren’s substantially larger shoulders, for there was no evidence of tightness or stretching. The hem, also, was different—no longer in the pattern of leaves, but in a fine weave of feathers, a very subtle design change that seemed to serve no purpose. But the most important change was at the back; when Lauren turned around, there was the hole again, perfectly sized and shaped to allow her wings to protrude unencumbered.