The Crystal Code (9 page)

Chapter 11

T
here was no time to run, and no shelter to run to.

What started out as a rumble, like low thunder at the top of the mountain, grew quickly to a roar. Gerald could feel the pressure building in his eardrums. The air being pushed ahead of the wave of snow almost knocked him off his feet.

The crest of the wave picked up Ruby and Felicity. It swallowed Sam and the snowmobile.

And then it hit Gerald.

He was lifted and thrown backwards, headfirst down the hill. His mouth filled with snow and ice, blocking his airways. The outside world disappeared into a grey haze as he was rolled and shaken like a rag doll in a tumble dryer.

Over and over he went, in a gymnastics routine with no end. Gerald threw his arms up, trying to swim to the surface of the surging river of snow and ice. His ribs screamed at the pummelling. And still he couldn't breathe. It was like being caught in a rip at Bondi—the ocean toyed with him, rolling him under the surface like some giant game of tunnel ball.

Then it struck him. It was
just
like being caught in a rip. And the best defence in a rip is not to fight it, but to swim across it and hope to be spat out at the side. He doubled his efforts with his arms, flailing about like a windmill in a cyclone. After what seemed an age, he finally rolled to a stop.

For a moment, Gerald lay encased in the powder, eyes blinking and ears straining to hear anything. But there was total silence. His hand was pressed up against his cheek. He jabbed fingers into his mouth to clear away the snow packed inside. He sucked in air and felt his lungs respond to the sharp cold. He blinked again. All around him was a shroud of blue grey. He had no sense of where was up. It took him a moment to realise the blue light he was seeing was actually the sun through the snow. He must be lying on his back. In one of those moments when the brain spits up a long lost memory from nowhere, he remembered a ski holiday with his parents, when he was just a little kid. The ski instructor had said something about being caught in an avalanche. About how the churned-up snow sets like concrete within minutes. Gerald's eyes shot wide. He had to act.

He clawed at the snow around his face, driving his hands as hard as he could towards the light. He'd lost a glove in the fall but he felt no cold as his bare fingers scratched their way towards the surface. And then in a glorious moment, he broke through. It was like looking out of a tunnel. He could see the sky and the tops of some fir trees. He pushed with all his might and managed to clear a hole large enough so he could sit up. He was under only about half a metre of snow but already he could feel it hardening around his legs.

Gerald rolled to his side. He ignored the pain shooting through his ribs. Bit by bit, he dragged himself free of his icy tomb.

He stood groggily and looked around. He'd been carried at least three hundred metres, halfway down the bowl, and jettisoned at the base of a stand of trees. He'd lost his goggles as well as a glove. Above him, up the hill, was a junkyard of broken snow and ice, as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to a wedding cake. Down the hill, all was white destruction. There was carved up powder everywhere.

Gerald saw the sole of a boot poking out from the snow.

It was Sam.

In all the confusion, Gerald had forgotten about his friends.

He strode towards it, ploughing a path behind him. ‘Sam!' he called. ‘Can you hear me?' He wrapped his hands around the boot, pulled and tumbled onto his backside with the empty boot on his chest. Sam must have lost it in the fall.

‘Sam!'

Gerald scanned the area, frantic for any sign of his friend. Then he saw a red-and-green striped foot punched up through the powder. It was only twenty metres away but it seemed an insurmountable task to get there. Gerald lifted his legs and drove himself on.

He dropped to his knees by Sam's foot and scooped away armfuls of snow, desperately aware of the minutes ticking past. He uncovered Sam's other foot, still in its boot, and soon had his legs free. Sam was on his stomach, his head buried deep down, as if someone had fired him into a snow bank from a cannon. Gerald leapt in beside him, digging at his sides.

Sam was not moving.

Gerald didn't look up when Ruby joined him. Felicity was only seconds behind her. Together, they shovelled in a frenzy.

‘Is he—?' Ruby couldn't finish the sentence.

‘Dig.' It was all Gerald could bring himself to say.

They cleared the snow to Sam's armpits, then Gerald hauled himself to his feet and grabbed one of Sam's legs. ‘Get the other one,' he said to Ruby. ‘On three, pull.'

Felicity gripped Sam by the jacket and they heaved. Sam slid out like a newborn foal, landing on top of the others in a tangle of legs and arms.

‘Sam!' Ruby cried. She scrambled to clear snow from her brother's face. ‘Sam!'

He lay in her lap, his face pointing to the sky.

His eyes were closed. His skin was pale.

Ruby shook him. ‘Sam!' she cried again. There was no response. Ruby looked to Gerald, desperation in her eyes. Gerald looked back at her, helpless.

Then Sam coughed. A plug of ice shot from his mouth and bounced off Ruby's forehead. He sucked in huge breaths, his chest pumping the mountain air.

Sam opened his eyes. Gerald, Ruby and Felicity stared down at him. He blinked. ‘Not sure I want to do that again,' he said.

Ruby wrapped her arms around her brother. ‘I thought you were dead,' she whispered. ‘You big idiot.'

Gerald looked down the slope. At the very bottom, hundreds of metres away, he could see movement.

‘Look,' he said. ‘The gunmen are still down there.' The sky was clearing. He shielded his eyes from the glare. ‘And they've got Alisha and Ox!'

‘They must have surfed the avalanche all the way to the bottom,' Ruby said.

‘Thank goodness they're all right,' Felicity said. ‘But what do we do now?'

Ruby glanced towards the top of the mountain. ‘That snow still looks unstable,' she said. ‘We should get over to the trees.'

Gerald helped Sam to his feet and picked up his discarded boot from the slush. They'd taken only a few steps when a rumble rolled down the mountain.

‘It's another slide!' Ruby cried. ‘Run!'

There was a helter-skelter dash through the ploughed up snow to reach the safety of the tree line. Felicity was the last one to dive behind a trunk when the first rush of tumbling snow whooshed past. They gathered in a tight group and watched as nature's mayhem swept down the slope.

‘It's like a river in flood,' Gerald said. ‘Amazing.'

‘There goes the snowmobile!' Ruby cried, as the machine rolled past, like a toy car thrown into a fairy floss machine.

At the bottom of the slope, the gunmen bundled Alisha and Ox onto the back of their snowmobiles and took off, trying to outrun the approaching snow slide. They disappeared over a rise and were gone.

Gerald, Ruby, Sam and Felicity stood in shocked silence. The river of snow flowed onwards.

Felicity was first to speak.

‘Which way do we go?' she asked. ‘Up or down?'

‘We've got to go get Ox and Alisha, don't we?' Sam said. ‘We can't just leave them.'

Ruby shook her head. ‘They'll take Ox and Alisha back to the chalet. They'll be warm and safe there.'

‘That's where all the adults are,' Felicity said. ‘Ox's parents and your—' She looked at Ruby's expression and paused. ‘I'm sorry.'

Ruby brushed it aside with a shrug. ‘I'm sure they're okay,' she said softly.

Gerald put a hand on Sam's shoulder. ‘I think Ruby's right,' he said. ‘We've got to stick to the plan. Go get help.' Gerald had no idea whether that was the right decision. But he couldn't see what good it would do to serve themselves up to those gunmen like a sack of Christmas presents.

‘Hey,' he said, suddenly remembering. ‘It's Christmas Day.'

Sam turned and started up the slope, his eyes following the tree line. ‘Terrific,' he said. ‘Joy to the world.'

It took two hours of hard slog to reach the top of the bowl. On the way, Felicity described how the avalanche had swept her to one side, and how she pulled Ruby out of a snow bank.

Once they reached the ridgeline they found a trekking hut. There was no radio, but there were snowshoes. The hike to the watchtower took another two hours. They climbed up to the viewing platform and Gerald broke a window to get inside. The first police helicopter arrived an hour after his emergency radio call.

The commander of the SWAT team listened intently as Gerald recounted the events since midnight. Around them, police officers set up a rescue headquarters. ‘And this guy you knocked out in the caretaker's cottage,' the commander said, ‘was he down for the count or just a bit dazed?'

‘He was moaning, so he was still conscious,' Gerald said. ‘But he must have been wearing something under his balaclava.'

‘Yeah,' Sam said. ‘A hockey mask, or something like that.'

‘What makes you think that?' the commander said.

‘Because his nose didn't go splat when I hit it.'

The commander raised an eyebrow and looked warily at Sam. ‘I'm sending in a team of my best people with some locals from the Sierra County Search and Rescue,' he said. ‘They know the terrain. We'll get your parents out.'

Gerald, Ruby, Sam and Felicity stood at the watchtower window, wrapped in blankets and sipping mugs of hot soup, as the SWAT helicopter rose from the snow and disappeared over a rise.

Gerald cradled his mug in his hands, letting the warmth soak into his fingers. ‘They'll be fine,' he said.

‘What makes you so sure?' Ruby said. Her eyes were fixed on the ridge where the chopper had dropped from view.

‘These SWAT guys look like they know what they're doing,' he said. ‘And don't forget one important thing.'

‘What's that?'

‘We've got Ox and his Assertiveness Training on our side.'

Ruby looked at him blankly. ‘Do you really think this is the time for jokes.'

‘If not now,' Gerald said, ‘then when?'

The sun was low in the sky when Sam nudged Gerald, and nodded towards the commander. ‘Looks like something's happening.'

The commander stood at a table with a map of the area spread across the top. He held a finger to his ear, listening to a radio call. Then his eyes swivelled to the four people wrapped in blankets.

‘The chopper is coming back,' the commander said. ‘I need you all to come see something.'

‘What is it?' Ruby said. She was trembling. It was not from the cold.

The commander zipped up his jacket and pulled a hat from his pocket. ‘It will be easier if you just come and see.'

Ruby gave Gerald a nervous glance, and took Sam's hand. She didn't let it go until the chopper delivered them to the front of the chalet.

A SWAT officer met them at the front door. ‘Nothing's been touched,' he told the commander. ‘It's just as we found it.'

Gerald's heart raced. A sudden nausea swept his stomach.

The stone chalet stood silent before them. Gerald, Ruby, Felicity and Sam followed the commander into the entry hall.

It was deserted.

Their footsteps echoed as they walked through the house. Gerald stepped on broken glass from a vase that had been knocked from a side table. In the baronial dining room, embers still glowed in the fireplaces. Breakfasts sat half-eaten on plates. But not a soul could be found.

The chalet was empty.

It was as if everyone there had been erased from existence.

Chapter 12

G
erald had been on the phone to the family lawyer for over an hour and he was about to lose control.

‘Look Mr Prisk,' Gerald said. ‘You can't expect us to just sit around and do nothing. They took everyone. Mum and Dad. Ox and Alisha. Even Mrs Rutherford and Mr Fry. We've got to do something.'

A fog had rolled over San Francisco shortly after lunch. The view from the presidential suite of the Fairmont Hotel was grey, wet and depressing. They had been back in the city for a day, flown there in a police helicopter from Mt Archer. The excitement of their escape had been replaced with a gnawing frustration that threatened to collapse in on itself.

Ruby and Sam sat on a couch opposite Gerald, staring at him. Felicity stood by a window on the far side of the lounge, her arms hugging her chest. She gazed at the murk outside.

‘Really? Good. I'm glad the airport is fogged in.' Gerald had never spoken to Mr Prisk like this before. But he had never been this annoyed. ‘There's no point in me going back to London. I may as well be here when the kidnappers call. I'm the one they're looking for anyway.'

Mr Prisk's voice squeaked through the earpiece. Gerald tightened his jaw and listened. ‘Yes, I know you're worried about the precious Archer Corporation,' Gerald said. ‘I'm worried about my friends. I'll speak to you later.'

He hung up the phone and flopped back onto the couch.

‘The jet's grounded till the fog lifts,' Gerald said. ‘Mr Prisk wants me back in London straightaway.'

‘How can we go?' Ruby said. Her eyes were red from crying. ‘I'm not leaving till they find Mum and Dad.' Her voice cracked as she spoke.

Sam put an arm around her shoulder. ‘The police will find them,' he said. ‘Won't they, detective?'

A man in a blue suit looked up from the dining table where he was writing in his notebook.

He rested his pen on the page and considered the question for a moment. ‘We're doing all we can. Crime scene investigators are going through every inch of the place at Mt Archer. If there are any clues, they'll find them.'

‘But what if there aren't any clues?' Ruby said. ‘What if whoever did this left nothing behind?'

The detective fixed her with a steady stare. ‘Nobody is that smart, Miss Valentine.'

Gerald snorted. ‘They managed to move about sixty people off a snowbound mountain,' he said. ‘I'd say they're smart enough.'

Another detective emerged from the adjoining kitchen, a steaming mug of coffee in each hand. He placed one in front of his partner. ‘We've got over a hundred officers working on this case,' he said. ‘Not just locals, but statewide. And since the kidnapping involved two minors,' he checked his notes, ‘uh, Miss Gupta and Mister Perkins, the FBI has been alerted. They'll be carrying out investigations as well.'

Ruby shrank back into her brother's arm. ‘I just want to see Mum and Dad.'

Gerald leaned forward and put a hand on her knee. ‘They'll be back. Don't worry.'

‘But we haven't heard anything,' Ruby said. She looked across to the detectives. ‘Is that usual?'

The two policemen glanced at each other for just long enough to indicate that whatever they were about to say may not be entirely truthful.

‘There's nothing about this case that's usual,' the first detective said. ‘There has never been a kidnapping on this scale before. Sixty people or more? We're still working to confirm the names of everyone who's missing.'

‘But won't there be a ransom demand, or something?' Ruby said.

The second detective gave Ruby a reassuring look. ‘Every case is different. Sometimes a ransom demand comes straightaway. Other times, it takes longer.'

‘How long?' Sam asked.

The detective took a sip of his coffee. ‘Longer,' he said.

Gerald bounced to his feet and paced the floor. ‘Then what's keeping them? It's not like I can't afford to pay.'

‘It may not be money they're after,' the first detective said. He flicked through his notes. ‘You said you heard one of them tell some of the victims to put their jewels and wallets on a table. Right?'

‘That doesn't sound like big time thieves, does it,' Sam said. ‘A few old watches and some diamond rings.'

‘Especially when they flew to the chalet in a helicopter,' Gerald said. ‘They can't be too hard up for cash.'

‘It sounds like they were looking for something specific,' the first detective said. ‘Some particular piece of jewellery.'

A muffled gasp came from over by the windows. Felicity leaned against the wall, her hand clasped to the neck of her black turtleneck jumper.

‘Is there something wrong, Flicka?' Ruby asked.

Felicity's eyes darted to the carpet at her feet. ‘No,' she said quickly. ‘It's just…who would do such a thing? Go to all that trouble?'

The first detective looked at her intently. ‘It depends on what they're looking for. If it was a one-of-a-kind item, a unique piece, a serious collector might be tempted to do almost anything.'

The other detective said, ‘Is there something you want to tell us, Miss Upham?'

Felicity's hand tightened at her throat. She shook her head. ‘No,' she said, eyes trained on the weave of the carpet. ‘It's all just so—'

‘Sick-making?' Sam suggested.

Gerald stopped his pacing. ‘It has to be Sir Mason Green, doesn't it? All of this happened right after he escaped.'

The first detective flicked back through his notebook. ‘Now you mentioned this Green guy before. Who is he? Is he the one that the gang leader called the Falcon?'

Gerald looked up to the ceiling in frustration. ‘I told you. Mason Green is the British billionaire arrested for murder after he had my great aunt killed. The story was on the front page of every newspaper in Europe.'

The detective jotted down a note. ‘I don't read a lot of European newspapers,' he said, giving his partner a wink. ‘And we should contact an Inspector Parakeet, you say?'

‘Parrott.' Gerald was about to boil over. ‘Inspector Parrott. He knows all about it. I have no idea who this Falcon is. But the man with the deep voice said something about the Falcon coming through with one half of the deal. I'm sure it's important.'

‘Talk to Parrott about the Falcon.' The detective made another note in his book. ‘I think we've got all that we need for the moment. The phone here has been diverted to a trained police negotiator if the kidnappers call so you don't have to worry about that. There's a uniform at the door to make sure no one gets in and I'll keep in touch with your Mr Prisk. Otherwise, you're free to go back to London once the fog clears, whenever that is. It looks set in.'

The detectives went to leave, but one of them paused near the front door. He turned back to Gerald. ‘There's one thing I want to know,' he said.

‘Yes?'

‘What's it like being a billionaire?'

Gerald thought for a moment. ‘There are days when it's the worst thing in the world.'

The detective nodded, and turned to his colleague, ‘Still, not a bad position to be in,' he said as they walked out the door.

As the door swung shut, Gerald caught sight of an enormous uniformed officer sitting in the corridor outside their hotel suite.

Sam let out a sigh and rested his head on the back of the couch. ‘I'm hungry,' he said.

‘Really, Sam?' Ruby said. ‘Really? Is that all you can think of?' Then she shook her head. ‘I guess you may as well do something.' She tossed Sam the room-service menu.

Sam thumbed through the pages, trying to mask the rumbling from his stomach.

Gerald squatted on the rug in front of Ruby. ‘You okay?'

She gave him a tight smile. ‘Not even slightly. I can't bear the thought of what might be happening to Mum and Dad. Or Alisha and Ox. Can you imagine what it must be like for them?' She rubbed her eyes.

‘Is it too late for blueberry pancakes with a side order of waffles?' Sam asked.

Gerald picked up a phone and passed it to Sam. ‘It is never too late for pancakes and waffles,' he said. ‘With ice cream.'

Sam dialled room service. ‘Ruby, do you want anything? Felicity?'

Ruby shook her head. Felicity hadn't moved from her spot by the window. ‘No thank you,' she said. ‘I'm really not hungry.'

Gerald looked first to Felicity and then to Ruby. The Christmas hug with Ruby in the chalet seemed an age ago. No one had mentioned it since. It was almost like it had never happened. Felicity had held Gerald's hand in the back of the police helicopter all the way to San Francisco. Ruby had been too upset about her parents for Gerald to talk to her about anything. He looked again at Ruby's red eyes, and at Felicity's vacant stare out the window.

He knew the conversation about that hug had to happen some time.

But not now.