Half Moon Investigations - Eoin Colfer [55]
‘Ow!’ I shouted. ‘Hey. Watch it.’
‘They’re just flesh and bone!’ shrieked April triumphantly. ‘They can be killed!’
This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.
Now Red had me by the collar, swinging me out over the balcony, into space.
‘Grab the ivy,’ he grunted.
I reached for the creeper with my good hand. I had it too, in my grasp. We could have escaped. Then I heard two things. A metallic twang, like you get when you bang a taut steel cable with a stick. And Red’s voice saying softly, ‘Oh no.’
Neither of these sounds was encouraging.
Suddenly Red was not holding us up any more. We fell, fast and hard. There wasn’t time for my life to flash before me. My shoulder scraped wall, I saw the moon, next I was up to my ears in gravel.
Not too bad, I thought. Then Red landed on top of me. I felt like a cartoon character who had just been hit by an anvil.
I didn’t lose consciousness altogether, but I lost the ability to do anything. Things happened around me that I could not connect with. It was like watching a movie from inside a fish tank.
There were girls, and gravel crunching, and whispering.
Alive. They’re alive.
Shut up, May. Daddy will hear.
Should we —
No, Mercedes. No need for that. Grab their ankles.
That’s Red Sharkey. They’re both Sharkeys.
How much did they hear?
Doesn’t matter. Who’s going to believe dirty smelly Sharkeys?
I was lying on a beach in the surf, with the undertow dragging me across the pebbles. Maybe. That’s how it felt. My shirt rode up and stones gathered between my shoulder blades. My head flopped sideways and Red was inches away. His face was red. His whole face.
THE POWER OF MAGNETISM
I knew I was underground before my eyes confirmed it. Something about the deadness of the air. I was lying on a stone floor, a tiny stream of water pooling at my cheek. A dozen skinny-girl legs swayed in my vision, like reeds on a riverbank.
What now? said a voice.
They were still talking. Why couldn’t they shut up? I had a headache.
We can’t wait until morning, sisters. I’ll have to go now. To Principal Quinn’s house. Daddy will take me. He does whatever I say.
But what about those boys? Red is hurt.
May, I don’t think you understand what Les Jeunes Étudiantes are all about. We hate boys. Especially Sharkeys. Especially, especially burglar Sharkeys. Dad will find these two down here tomorrow and the police can take them away. They’re going to prison eventually anyway. We’re just, like, accelerating the process.
But he’s bleeding…
I wonder if I could divorce you, May. Can you divorce cousins?
The girls left, moving up cement steps through a square of moonlight. A wooden door banged into the space and a bolt rasped across. I was left in total darkness, which was good. I needed a snooze. I turned my face to the tiny stream on the floor and had a little drink. Cool. A bit gritty but fine. Now, to sleep.
Something about what happened nagged at me, keeping me awake. April knew who I was. She had seen through my disguise before, so why pretend now that I was a Sharkey. The answer came quickly, even through the fog surrounding my brain. Nobody cared what happened to Sharkeys. Nobody would argue with her plan to lock two Sharkeys in a cellar.
‘Aaah,’ said a voice! ‘My head is on fire.’
I opened one eye. Red’s head was floating in the blackness. A disembodied head with blood dripping from the chin.
‘Red?’ I said. ‘Where’s your body?’
The head chuckled, then winced. Ghostly fingers touched a cut on a ghostly head.
‘I really gave myself a whack.’
I noticed a torch under the spirit’s head. Now the rest of Red’s body swam into my vision.
‘You’re not a ghost,’ I said, relieved.
Red ran the torch beam along the wall until he found a light switch.
‘You better get a grip, Half Moon,’ he said, flicking the switch. What seemed to be a blinding glare filled the room. It eventually settled to a watery forty-watt glow. ‘You heard what they said? We need to get out of here before they get to Mrs Quinn’s or Roddy is up the creek.’
I squeezed my