LEITH AND THE LURKING EVIL
Chapter 8: Mavis

DR GRIEG’S FACE, already pale, turned chalk-white. He stood up.

So did I.

“Are you trying to get yourself expelled? Like some juvenile delinquent? Is that what you’re trying to do?”

“Maybe just ‘isolated,’ sir - in the Black Bungalow.”

“Get out of my office! And if you choose to involve yourself in any further incidents, it will be my duty to dismiss you!”

I glared at him. I didn’t speak. Maybe I couldn’t.

Outside, people passed me in a blur. I was so mad, I couldn’t focus on anyone or anything except a sense of injustice.

“Smile for Auntie Mut!” Click.

I turned. Mut had claimed another victim - a pretty girl with pigtails I’d seen at the movie last night. I watched her as she passed the pay phone and went through the mess hall door.

Pay phone. My heart gave a kick. All I had to do was phone my parents - then Pippa and I could escape from this horrible place!

My heart sank. How could I call them? They were in the Grouper Islands, one of the most remote places on earth. They didn’t even have electricity there, let alone phones. And my father was always saying mobiles give you ADHD - no way was he having one in his house; he didn’t care what other kids’ parents allowed; he was still the head of the Devereaux clan, and he was not letting one through the front door.

But I could still write to them. I’d thought about writing to them yesterday, and now there was even more to report. A big, long, newsy letter - a real spiller - that’s what was required. I’d get to the letter right after breakfast.

I took a tray, marched up to the buffet, and grabbed some toast and marmalade, a bottle of orange juice and an apple. From behind the counter, a big woman beamed at me. “Anything I can cook for you, young fellow? Hey, you’re new.”

“Leith Devereaux. My sister and I got here yesterday, and I’d love a cheese omelet.”

“Glad to meet you, Leith. I’m Mavis, and I make just about the best cheese omelet around. How about some bacon to go with that? You look like you could do with some fattenin’ up.”

I smiled. “OK, bacon too.” I liked Mavis at once. She seemed to be the first normal human being I’d met at Camp Damble. A couple of other kids came up and placed orders while I waited. I saw Ray and Pippa sitting together at one of the long tables. The pretty girl with pigtails sat at another table. I hoped she’d have the good sense to steer clear of Broody – then realised with a renewed sense of shock that Broody would be steering clear of everybody until further notice.

I waited till the coast was clear and Mavis had stopped buzzing about. She seemed friendly and eager to chat, so I got right to it.

“I wonder if you could help me replace someone?” I began. “I met him yesterday; he let me borrow some change to phone my parents, and I’d like to pay him back.”

“Sure thing, sweet cheeks, be happy to help. Who’s the kiddy you’re lookin’ for?”

“Well, he isn’t a kid. He’s a man - about your age - tall, and dresses like a fussy old school teacher. Except he isn’t fussy. He’s kind of wild and messy.”

She frowned. “Doesn’t sound like anyone at camp. Definitely not one of the counsellors - they’re all younger. Don’t suppose you happened to catch his name?”

“He called himself Python - Adam Python.”

Mavis gasped.

But I had the feeling it wasn’t just because of what I’d said. It was that - but something else too. She was looking over my shoulder.

“Morning, Dr Grieg,” she said. “What’ll it be today?”

“The usual,” he replied curtly.

Mavis served me my bacon and eggs, but refused to look me in the eye. She seemed keen for me to go.

“Enjoy!” said Dr Grieg cheerfully. “Growing boys need their protein. Don’t want you pitching a fainting fit in the middle of the football field and coming to grief!” He sounded almost pleased at the prospect.

I walked to a table where I could be alone to think about what I would put in the letter to my parents. Lots of details, I decided. About the gun-toting bus driver; counsellors who sank like stones, then walked calmly to shore; a director who spun campfire yarns to scare everybody, then had rebels “isolated”; snakebites that were shrugged off like mosquito bites; and Adam Python’s insistence that we were all in terrible danger. I’d heard of kids getting off to a bad start at camp, but never like this. I almost laughed. This was beyond ridiculous - it was insane.

As I lay on my bunk after breakfast, filling up page after page, I realised how fantastic it all sounded. Just like a spoiled brat making up stories to get a little attention. “Dear Mum, everyone here is nuts. Except me. And possibly Pippa. No, just me.”

I was starting page eight when Ant came bounding in. “Chop-chop, hiking-buddy, Mother Nature awaits!” He flashed a false smile. “Let’s hear it for hiking!”

“OK,” I said, tucking my pages inside Strangers and putting the book under my pillow. I wondered if Ant had noticed. For the next few days, I vowed, I would not make waves. I’d play along. Until Mum and Dad got the letter and came to bust us out. That might be more like a week. Air mail to the Grouper Islands would not be too swift. And they’d have to charter a plane to take them to the nearest city where commercial flights were available. I thought of the expense and felt guilty. Maybe I was just being a brat. Maybe I should re-think the letter after the hike.

I noticed Ant’s hand looked to have completely healed; his skin bore not the slightest trace of a scar. It really must have been just a harmless tree-snake like he’d said.

He led a pack of twenty or so of us on a merry trek through the woods, and either by accident or design, we never strayed within sight of the Black Bungalow. Maybe Dr Grieg had reminded him that it (like Broody) was “off limits.” I felt that somehow the building held the key to everything.

Ray and his nervous friend trudged along up front. Pippa and Jane were somewhere in the middle of the pack, and Mut was darting about, seemingly everywhere at once, pointing out items of interest to everyone and no one.

I hung back, scouring the shadows for any sign of the Python. I wondered if they’d bagged him yet, and if so, who were they? I felt Dr Grieg had to be one of them. And Mavis knew something. About Adam, I thought. Something she wasn’t willing to repeat in front of Dr Grieg. If only I could get her to talk. I’d try again at lunchtime. But I knew it would probably be too late. Dr Grieg, if he suspected anything, would have already warned her to keep quiet.

Poor Broody. I wondered where they were holding him. In a cell? With a guard? I couldn’t help thinking of a prison movie with Broody as its brash young star---but my thoughts were cut short by a fight that had broken out up front. I pushed ahead. What was going on?

I couldn’t believe it - big, blustery Ray and the nervous skinny kid were going at it, rolling on the ground, trying to beat each other senseless; and the most amazing thing was---the skinny kid was winning! He was hammering away like a prizefighter. Ray, legs kicking, arms thrashing, lay on his back, blood streaming from his nose.

“Stop!” screamed Jane as she pushed through the gawking crowd. “Can’t you see he’s killing him!”

Ant was there quick as a flash, and the fight ended seconds later. He just put his hand on the small of the skinny kid’s back and he stopped - in mid-punch. It was as if Ant had pushed some magical pressure point. The kid stood up, stepped back gracefully and turned away, leaving Ray a blubbering mess on the forest floor.

Jane dropped down beside him, dabbing at his nose with her handkerchief.

“Don’t,” said Ant flatly, taking her thin wrist in his powerful mitt. “He’s a weakling. How can you pity that?”

Jane shook her wrist free, glaring up at Ant. “What’s the matter with you? He’s hurt. Don’t you see that? Why can’t you be a bit more caring and help?”

Ant shook his head and stepped back. “Jane, cry-babies aren’t the way we want to go here at Camp Damble. We want winners.”

“Yeah? Well, I think you’re a big fat loser! And if you expect people to act like you, then you can include me out! Come on, Ray, get up. I’m calling my parents. We’re leaving.”

Ant’s face was completely expressionless as he watched Jane and Ray depart.

Mut, who had done nothing to stop the fight, exchanged a glance with Ant, who very slightly nodded.

“I’ll help,” I said. “He - Ray - we’re in the same cabin ...” With a vague gesture, I departed. To my relief, nobody tried to stop me.

Back at our cabin, Ray fell onto his bunk and curled up like a baby. Once the blood was washed off, he seemed more upset than hurt. Softly, he started to keen. Jane had gone to get some ice.

I couldn’t wait to open Strangers and take out my letter - Mum and Dad would go nuts when they heard about this! I riffled the pages. Looked under my pillow. Searched the floor. My heart lurched. The letter was gone!

I opened the book again, hoping against hope I’d been wrong.

Nope. It was gone.

Then I noticed something. On the printed page - a word circled in red ink - midnight. A few pages on: at, followed by the. I flicked back to the beginning of the book. On page one, the letter M was circled once. On page two, two Es were circled. I grabbed pen and paper, scribbling down the marked words and letters, my heart racing as the encoded message took shape. At last, I had it. Yes, I thought, I’m going. I read the message once more before destroying it:

MEET ME AT MIDNIGHT AT THE BLACK CABIN. ADAM.