Island of Fog (Book 1) (12 page)

Even though Hal possessed scant knowledge of Out There, he recognized that his mom was talking about the deal of a lifetime. He could sense it in her voice, and in the way she gently shook her head in disbelief.

“If anyone else had told us that we’d get to retire from our jobs and live on an island for free for the rest of our lives, while being paid every month . . . well, we’d have laughed. But Simone is a very persuasive person, and she showed us a few things that blew our minds. Things that belonged in dreams.”

“What things?” Hal asked.

But his mom just smiled. “Never mind. Anyway, we were convinced. Convinced beyond a doubt that this woman was someone very special, and that what she was telling us was the truth. And . . . you have to understand, Hal . . .”

She looked directly at him then, her eyes tearing up. She took his hand.

“Ten couples. We were
chosen
, Hal. We were all roughly the same age, and all childless. All us women were in our early thirties, and time was running out.”

A shiver went down Hal’s spine. “Time was running out?”

“Yes. You see, for whatever reason, none of us had been lucky enough to have any children. Simone picked us because of that. Because we were childless, and because time was running out for us. Because we wanted children and were getting desperate. So when Simone offered a special treatment . . .”

She trailed off, but the words echoed in Hal’s mind.

“So, of course we all agreed to the project. It was all explained very carefully, and it wasn’t a decision we took lightly. But, Hal . . . a virtually private island to bring you up on, a small community of other kids your age, financial security for life . . . and of course the fact that you might not have been born otherwise. Do you understand?”

She seemed beseeching somehow, as if pleading with him to say
yes, that’s fine, I understand
. Did she feel guilty?

As if hearing his thoughts, she pulled him to her and hugged him tight. Hal felt very uncomfortable. He’d always been close to his mom and hugs between them were frequent, but this was something else. Something different and unusual.

Regaining her composure and wiping her eyes, his mom continued in the same quiet tone as before. “Everything was going along nicely. We moved to the island and started to settle in. It was lovely, so quiet, as if all our worries had been left on the mainland. You could see the mainland quite clearly from here, you know, when there was no fog. On a clear day you could see tiny cars glinting in the sunlight as they drove along the coastal road. But it was all far enough away that you couldn’t hear anything, except perhaps at night—then you could hear occasional police sirens in the distance, helicopters flying over, that sort of thing.”

Hal could not imagine the sounds she referred to.

“Then the virus struck,” she went on, sounding tired now. “Everything went wrong. We heard about it on the news, saw TV reports from cities farther inland. It was spreading across the country. It hadn’t reached the east coast yet, but it would. It was awful. It seemed that all our dreams were shattered, that life as we knew it was over. We just gathered together and spent night after night crying. The men were strong, telling us that everything would be all right, but we all knew it was a matter of time before the virus reached us here on the island. And then . . . and then Simone saved us.”

The window rattled at that moment, and they both looked at it in surprise. Outside, the fog revealed nothing but the trailing branches of an overhanging willow tree, blowing hard in a strong gust of wind.

“Simone visited us and told us not to worry,” Hal’s mom went on. “She had a solution. She said the project would go ahead, but warned us that life would be very different from what had been planned. She told the men to go into the city and arrange trucks—she gave us stacks of cash and suggested we hire some help, as if anyone would be willing to help at a time like this! But she was right—there were actually people willing to earn some quick cash to drive trucks to the island and back.” She shook her head. “Even with death approaching from all around, people still want to earn a quick buck.”

“What was on the trucks?” Hal asked—but he already knew.

“Food,” his mom replied. “Supplies. Everything we could think of. Simone told us to work out what essentials we would need to survive on the island without ever going to the mainland. She said we could start farming and she’d teach us how to be self-sufficient, but she said it would be easier on us if we get supplies anyway. We asked, ‘How long for? A month? Six months?’ Simone told us eight years.”

“Eight years!” Hal exclaimed. The funny thing was that he knew that already. He’d seen the stores in the old barn, had worked out that there was enough there for a decade. But to be told the story was something else. The final confirmation that his parents had actually
planned
to be secluded on the island for eight years or more came as a shock, no matter how much he thought he’d prepared for it.

“That’s how long Simone thought it would take,” his mom said. Before Hal could ask how long
what
would take, she hurried on. “Anyway, then the fog arrived. It just appeared overnight. And, soon after, there was no TV signal, no radio, no nothing. No electricity either. No phones. Our mobiles didn’t work.
Nothing
worked. We were plunged into silence, and outside there was this fog, silent and thick. Simone said it was there to filter the air, to keep the virus from reaching us, but as a side effect it caused electrical currents and radio frequencies to stop working. ‘No matter,’ Simone told us. ‘Everything will stop working soon anyway.’”

Hal’s mom gave a forced smile. “She wasn’t exactly gentle when she pointed out that our world was about to end.”

“And that was the last you saw of the world?” Hal asked.

“For most of us, yes. There was one couple who couldn’t stand it though. The Osbornes. After a few weeks of being utterly cut off from the world, they wanted to leave the island and see what was going on. We all tried to reason with them. We even went up to the top of the lighthouse—it looks out across the mainland and actually sticks up above the fog—but it was impossible to tell what was happening. It looked quiet out there. So the Osbornes packed a few things and left. Said they’d be back.”

Hal nodded. “But they never came back.”

“Which left nine couples,” his mom agreed. “We got on with the project.” At this she waved a hand as if to brush off the details. “Anyway, months later we were all expecting.”

“Expecting what?”

Hal’s mom laughed. She pulled at his hand. “
You
, silly. We were all expecting babies. It was wonderful when we found out, but sad too, as we knew our families were still out there. Were they alive? Dead? We just didn’t know, and could hardly stand it. Mr. Porter finally cracked—he just had to know more, so he put on a chemical suit, got in the boat, and went off to the mainland. Your father went with him, along with Mr. Bridges. It was awful for those left behind, waiting anxiously for the three men to return.”

“But only two came back,” Hal murmured, thinking of poor Abigail’s mom.

“That’s right. Only two came back. We never saw Mr. Porter again.”

There was a long, drawn-out silence. Outside the wind picked up once more. The storm was coming.

Hal’s mom started putting the photos into the shoebox, shuffling them into tidy stacks. “Since the fog arrived, we’ve never seen the sun or a blue sky,” she said. “It was terrible at first, living with no electricity. Even the water was cut off, because the pumps weren’t working. We noticed that batteries still worked though, so we made use of the cars for a while. Until we ran out of gasoline.” She sighed. “No power, no running water . . . and no sun. Everything was so
damp
. Couldn’t do a thing with my hair, and as for my skin—” She chuckled and shook her head. “Listen to me, worrying about hair and skin when you’ve never seen the sun in your life. One day you’ll feel its warmth on your face, Hal, and your skin will slowly tan a lovely golden color. We’ll all have to be careful at first, and use sun block . . .” She trailed off and looked thoughtful. “But that’s all for later. What else did Miss Simone tell you?”

Bringing himself forcibly back to the present, Hal thought hard and chose his words carefully. “She asked us if we were changing. She called us one by one into the office and told us to tell her about anything strange happening.”

His mom stared at him, her face expressionless. “And?”

“And what?” Hal asked, suddenly feeling as though he were facing off against some great enemy. This was Simone’s project, whatever
that
meant, and he didn’t trust the mysterious stranger. Not yet anyway. But his mom apparently did, and anything he told her would get back to Simone eventually.
Be careful what you say
, Abigail’s voice warned at the back of his mind.

“Are you . . . changing in any way?” his mom pressed.

Hal put on his best bewildered face. “Into what?”

His mom was frozen in place, one hand inside the shoebox and the other holding a small handful of photos. “Hal,” she said after a while. But then she faltered. Finally she dumped the rest of the photos in the box and swept a hand through her hair. “Hal, if anything is happening to you—or if anything should happen in the future—you
will
tell me, won’t you? Or Miss Simone.”

Hal leaned forward. “Mom, what are you talking about?”

Something in the fire popped and a spark flew out. It smoldered on the floor and turned into a tiny black speck of charcoal.

Hal’s mom got up and went to poke at the fire. She jabbed at it with the long wrought-iron poker as if trying to spear a fish. “We know about Fenton’s teeth,” she said with her back to him. “He’s changing, Hal. That’s the sort of thing we need to be told of. It’s important.”

“But why?”

Hal waited for his mom to respond, but she said nothing.

“Mom, what’s going to happen to Fenton now that his teeth are all sharp and pointed?”

She jabbed again, then bent to toss in a half-log from the small woodpile. “He’ll be leaving. He and his parents will move on to another place.”

Stunned, Hal was speechless for a long while. Then he swallowed. “A
better
place? Or . . . or a prison? A laboratory?”

His mom swung around, her face a mask of astonishment. She still held the poker, and a fine wisp of smoke trailed from its smoldering end. If anyone had walked in at that moment it would have looked like she was attacking him.

“Hal, wherever did you—why would—” She shook her head, replaced the poker on the side of the hearth, and returned to the sofa, where she clasped her hands together and stared long and hard at Hal. “A
prison?
What gave you that idea? Fenton will be moving to a
nice
place, where the sun shines. It’s what we’ve all been waiting for, Hal. The changes are long overdue. We should have moved away from this miserable island years ago.”

She sighed. “Thomas was the first to change, when he was six. It came as a shock, even though we were half expecting it. About eight years, we were told, and he changed at six. But it all went horribly wrong, and he ran away, fell off the cliff, and was killed on the rocks.”

Hal opened his mouth to disagree, but closed it again.
Let her speak.

“Mr. and Mrs. Patten couldn’t deal with the loss, couldn’t live here anymore. They decided to take their chances on the mainland, so took the boat and left. We never saw them again. From then on we kept a close eye on you all, waiting to see if anyone else was on the verge of changing . . . but years passed and still nothing happened. Now you’re all twelve, and our stocks are running low. Some things have already run out, as you know, like the toothpaste, the soap . . . and the shoes will run out soon too, if you keep growing out of them so fast.”

The window rattled again as a gust of wind hammered against it. A draft slipped through the frame and the curtains moved. Both Hal and his mom listened to the wind whipping through the willow tree outside in the yard. Earlier they had seen the long, trailing branches dragging in the wind, but now they saw nothing; the fog pressed against the glass like it was trying to smother the house.

The wind died away, a temporary lull, and Hal’s mom slid the box of photos onto the shelf under the coffee table.

“I’m not supposed to be telling you any of this,” she said with a shrug. “All us parents agreed to say nothing, otherwise there would always be one in your class knowing more than the others, and that would lead to problems. So rather than confuse things, we agreed to say nothing, to keep what we knew under wraps. But now that Fenton is experiencing changes . . . well, now we need to know if it’s just
him
experiencing changes, or
all
of you.”

Hal nodded.

His mom waited, one eyebrow raised.

Still Hal said nothing. He wanted to tell her, “I’m a dragon! Abigail’s a faerie! Robbie’s an ogre!” But then what? Obviously they were freaks of nature, or some kind of horrible experiment. Either way they were sure to be locked up and studied for the rest of their lives, or worse, put down like sick animals. But would his mom really allow such a thing? And lie to him that way?

“Hal?”

The problem was that she didn’t even know the whole truth herself. She thought Thomas had been killed on the rocks, but he’d survived, despite being pulled underwater by something and nearly drowned. Did Miss Simone know this? Thomas said he’d awoken by a lake and lived the next six years as a manticore, with a blue sky and bright sun. There was no lake on the island, so he must have been washed up Out There, perhaps in some cove or inlet. That explained the blue sky and bright sun, but it also meant the virus had gone—or it never existed in the first place.

Which meant Miss Simone was lying about the virus.

Then again, Hal and his friends had great immune systems, or so Dr. Porter had always told them. They’d never had colds, measles, or chicken pox . . . so perhaps Thomas had simply been unaffected by the virus.

“Hal, what’s on your mind, honey?”

Hal focused on his mom. Tell her, or not? He
wanted
to, but that would betray his friends. And so many things didn’t quite add up. He needed to talk to Abigail and Robbie first, tell them everything his mom had said, and take a vote on what to do next.

Gritting his teeth, Hal shook his head. “Nothing, Mom. Unless you can tell me
why
we’re all supposed to be changing?”

She frowned. “It’s a lot to take in, Hal. Some of you might not . . . I mean, it would be terrible if only a few of you . . . well, what I mean is, sometimes it’s better not knowing—”

“Never mind,” Hal said, getting to his feet. He stalked toward the door and shot her a scowl. “You’re not the only one who can keep secrets, Mom.”

“Hal! Don’t talk to me that way. Come back here.”

“I’m going over to Robbie’s,” Hal said, trying to keep the tremble from his voice. Ignoring his mom’s protests, he grabbed a coat, slammed the door behind him, and ran off along the road.

The wind whipped through Hal’s coat as he banged on the door to Robbie’s house. It was only late afternoon, but the sky had darkened to a dirty gray and the fog twisted and turned in the wind as though confused. No rain yet, but it was on its way.

“Hal,” Mrs. Strickland said as she opened the door. “I’m surprised you’re out in this weather. You know there’s going to be a storm?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to hang out for a while,” Hal said, shrugging.

Robbie appeared, peering around his mom’s shoulder. He looked perfectly normal, with no sign of the monstrous ogre he’d become earlier that afternoon. “Hal! Come on in.”

As Mrs. Strickland stepped aside, Robbie turned and led the way down the hall to his room. Closing the door softly, he turned to Hal with shining eyes.

“I changed. I mean,
really
changed.”

“I know,” Hal said, nodding. “I saw you. You nearly ran me down.”

Robbie stared at him, his forehead creasing. “I did?”

Hal sank into an old armchair in the corner and stared at the shelf above Robbie’s unmade bed. Small jars lined the shelf, each containing bits of grass and dry leaves. Hal knew a few of those jars had bugs crawling around inside; the lids had been pierced to allow fresh air in so the helpless insects wouldn’t suffocate.

A bizarre vision popped into Hal’s mind just then:
eight children trapped in huge jars, being studied by scientists in long white coats
. Some of the kids kept changing into strange monsters, and this caused considerable excitement among the laboratory staff.

“Did you know you were an ogre?” Hal asked.

“A what?” Robbie sat on the edge of his bed and absently ruffled his messy hair. “Look, I don’t know what happened exactly. I just remember walking into the forest alone. You and Abi were back there in the fog somewhere, talking, and I didn’t want to interrupt.” He gave Hal a big, meaningful wink. “Anyway, I walked for maybe five minutes, and then I heard a noise and turned around. And there was this . . . this . . .”

“Manticore,” Hal said helpfully. “Abi says it’s a manticore. She read about it in a book.”

Robbie nodded, looking a little puzzled but accepting the information anyway. “Well, when it raised its tail, and I saw those quills, I yelled and . . . well, I just . . .”

“Ran?”

“No, I charged it.”

“What?”

Robbie nodded, his face reddening. “I know. Crazy. I don’t know what came over me. I just . . . I just wanted to rush over and tangle with it, you know?”

Hal remembered a similar feeling when he was changing into a dragon.

“I remember thinking how stupid I was,” Robbie went on. “I mean, as if I could tackle something like that! But there I was, beating on it with fists that weren’t mine. Big, hairy fists. And the manticore didn’t seem so big anymore, so I hit it over and over again. And then, well, it lashed out with its tail and stuck me with a bunch of quills. They hurt!”

“Yeah,” Hal agreed.

“So I turned and ran, and I kept going until I found the bikes. I thought I’d see you there. But you weren’t around.”

Hal spread his hands. “You rushed right by us.”

“Did I? Well, I was confused. I just assumed you were waiting by the bikes. Anyway, I started calling for you, and then thought, ‘Wait a minute, where are my clothes?’”

Hal laughed quietly. “And you had this horrible idea that Abigail would see you naked, so you took off.”

Robbie shuddered. “Yeah. I don’t know exactly what happened today, but I had to leave. Fast.”

“And you came home and climbed in the bedroom window.”

Robbie nodded, a wry grin emerging. “Got some clothes on, then sauntered into the kitchen. Frightened Mom half to death, because she didn’t hear me come in the front door.”

“That’s why I climbed back out the window,” Hal murmured. “Got back on my bike and rode up to the front door as if I was just getting home.”

Now Robbie looked confused. “Wait a minute—you lost your clothes too? But why—” His face suddenly lit up. “You changed as well, didn’t you?”

Hal launched into his tale, revealing how Abigail had come by his house late on Saturday night and showed him her wings. Robbie’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head at the idea of her buzzing around in the air. “She wasn’t kidding!” he said, shaking his head. “When she said she could keep up with us even without her bike, she actually meant it!”

“Yeah,” Hal said, nodding. “She teases a lot, yanks our chains, but she’s not all bluff. And she makes a lot of sense too. She thinks we’re all freaks, and that Miss Simone wants to take us away and experiment on us. Thing is, I’m beginning to believe her. A couple of things don’t add up—like Thomas being killed on the rocks. He wasn’t killed at all. But even my mom thinks he was killed, which means all the adults must think the same way . . . which means either they all just assumed he was dead, or Miss Simone lied and
told
them he was dead.”

Hal paused a moment, feeling breathless. “And where does she come from anyway? She tells us there’s a virus Out There, that it’s still dangerous to breathe the air, and yet she must live there.” He remembered something. “Unless she lives on another world altogether, as she hinted in class?” Hal sighed. “Nothing makes sense. Oh, but I have some stuff to tell you. Stuff my mom just told
me
. . .”

For the next ten minutes Hal recounted what his mom had told him. Robbie listened intently, not saying a single word.

When Hal had finished, Robbie fell back across his bed and lay there looking up at the ceiling. There was a long silence. After a while he cleared his throat. “So, uh . . . you’re a dragon, are you?”

“And you’re an ogre,” Hal said.

There was another long silence.

“And Abigail’s a faerie,” Robbie said quietly. “What about the others?”

“Haven’t thought about it,” Hal said, mildly surprised. “There’s too much going on. Look, what should we do next? Abigail suggested getting on the raft again and going Out There. You know, tying string to the docks so we can find our way back again.”

“I don’t think that’ll work,” Robbie said with a sigh. “I don’t think the sea serpent will let us. If it’s really there to guard us, to stop us leaving, it’s not going to let us get very far, is it? No, I think we should give that up and go plug up that hole where the fog comes out.”