The Mystery of Stormy Island Read online

  ‘Stupid duck!’ Amy muttered. She had a good mind to prove him wrong.

  ‘Let it go, Amy,’ Boo sighed, reading her thoughts. ‘We can’t do anything anyway – he’s got the homing device. We’ll just have to wait until he’s in a better mood. Don’t you agree, Ruth?’

  But Ruth wasn’t listening. She was puzzling over something else.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Amy.

  ‘I’m just thinking about last night,’ Ruth replied.

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘Well, James Pond said the granny chickens went outside the caravan in the night to use the loos …’

  ‘So?’

  ‘… Raptorov still didn’t attack them. I mean, why not? They were sitting ducks.’

  Boo and Amy thought for a minute.

  ‘Maybe they were too scrawny?’ Boo said. ‘I mean, you wouldn’t get much meat off them. They’re all bone and feathers and knobbly knees.’

  ‘I don’t think that would normally bother an eagle owl,’ Ruth said. ‘They eat everything and plop out the bits they can’t digest in pellets. No –’ she paced up and down – ‘Raptorov’s biding his time.’

  ‘And you think it’s to do with the fossils?’ Boo guessed.

  ‘Maybe,’ Ruth said. She sighed. ‘I wish I’d got a closer look at them yesterday when we were at the cave. If I knew what type of fossils Raptorov was collecting, I might have a better idea of what he wants to do with them.’

  Amy felt guilty. That was her fault for having a rumbly tummy, although unlike James Pond, Ruth was far too nice to say so.

  ‘Why don’t we go and have a look on the beach?’ she suggested. ‘Maybe we’ll find something fossily there that will give us a clue.’

  ‘Good idea, Amy,’ said Ruth, giving her a pat on the back. ‘You know, you’re really beginning to think like a scientist.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, a good scientist always finds a way around a problem to help them solve it. That’s what you’ve just done.’

  Amy glowed with pride.

  ‘We’d better go before the grannies wake up and start practising for the volleyball championships,’ Boo said.

  The three chickens scrambled down the cliff path as fast as they could and began to search amongst the rocks.

  ‘What exactly are we looking for?’ Boo asked, turning over the stones with her strong wings.

  ‘Anything with an unusual pattern,’ Ruth replied.

  ‘Like that, you mean?’ Amy said, pointing at one Boo had uncovered.

  The stone was flat and oval in shape, and about thirty centimetres in length. It contained the impression of something that looked a bit like the last joint of one of Amy’s toes, except it was at least a hundred times bigger. ‘Do you think it belonged to a giant chicken?’ she said in awe.

  Ruth’s eyes were nearly popping out of her head. ‘Not a chicken exactly,’ she whispered. ‘One of our distant ancestors.’

  Distant ancestors? Amy was perplexed.

  ‘Remember what I told you in the science lesson back at Dudley Academy, Amy?’ Ruth said.

  Suddenly the penny dropped. Amy knew exactly what she meant. She gawped at Ruth.

  Boo looked from one to the other. ‘Could one of you two please tell me what’s going on?’

  ‘Go ahead, Ruth,’ Amy said.

  ‘It’s the fossil of a dinosaur claw,’ Ruth said. ‘I think it belonged to a T. rex.’

  ‘A T. rex?! But why would Raptorov want something like that?’ Boo scratched her head.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Ruth said in a worried voice, ‘but something tells me, the sooner we fit that homing device on him, the better. I just hope we won’t be too late.’

  Thaddeus E. Fox was having another dream. Only this one wasn’t about chickens. It was about owls: one specific owl to be more precise, with enormous talons and a bill that could rip through branches. In his dream it was looming over him, its unblinking eyes centimetres from his face, swaying gently from side to side in time with some dramatic classical music.

  Daaaaa – du-du-du-du-du – da-daaaaa – da-daaaaa – du-du-du-du-du – daaaaa.

  The music ebbed and flowed like the sea as Thaddeus fought for consciousness. The sea. That was it! Thaddeus remembered now. He was beside the sea. The events of the previous night came flooding back to him. Arriving at the convalescent home … the therapy session … being thrown out by the security foxes … being lifted into the sky by a huge owl. His eyelids flew open in alarm. To his horror, he found that it wasn’t a dream after all. The owl was right in front of him, staring at him impassively with its huge orange eyes.

  Thaddeus edged backwards. He was in a dark cave with a smooth stone floor.

  His heart raced. The owl planned to devour him. That was why it had snatched him from the clifftop and brought him here.

  Daaaaa – du-du-du-du-du – da-daaaa – da-daaaa – du-du-du-du-du – daaaaa.

  The music was reaching a crescendo. Cymbals banged and crashed. He edged further back, desperately looking for a way to escape. His brush connected with the wall of the cave. He was trapped!

  The owl shuffled towards him. ‘So,’ it said in a thick Russian accent, ‘you are Thaddeus E. Fox, the evil villain?’

  ‘Who are you?’ Somehow Thaddeus found his voice. ‘What do you want with me?’

  ‘I am Vladimir Alexei Raptorov,’ came the reply. ‘I too am an evil villain. We are like brothers, you and I.’ The owl rotated its head in the direction of the music and listened for a moment, before rotating it back again. ‘Tchaikovsky,’ he said, ‘my favourite composer. I find his work inspiring. This is one of his greatest pieces – Swan Lake. It is a ballet. Do you know the story?’

  Thaddeus shook his head.

  ‘It is the tale of an evil sorcerer who turns a princess and her friends into beautiful swans,’ Raptorov said. ‘In the end the sorcerer’s spell is broken by the death of the princess and her true love. The rest of the swans return to human form and the sorcerer and his daughter must live as birds forever as punishment for their crime.’ The owl gave a series of clicks with its bill that might have passed for an ironic laugh. ‘Tchaikovsky’s only failing was that he was a human, and not a bird, otherwise the story would have had a much better ending: they would all have lived as birds forever! Do you not agree, Mr Fox?’

  Thaddeus swallowed. Raptorov was clearly insane. He decided to try and humour him. ‘Er, yes,’ he said. ‘Absolutely. Swan Lake. Lovely tune, rubbish ending – I’ve always thought that.’

  He was rewarded by a nod of the owl’s head. ‘I see that you are a villain of taste, Mr Fox,’ Raptorov said. ‘I think we have much in common.’

  ‘We do?’ Thaddeus wondered what he could possibly have in common with a mad, cave-dwelling, Tchaikovsky-obsessed eagle owl.

  ‘Oh yes.’ The owl inclined its head to one side and gave him a quizzical look. ‘I was outside the farmhouse, listening to your conversation with the other foxes …’ it said softly.

  ‘Ah,’ said Thaddeus, embarrassed, ‘about that chicken thing …’

  The owl stared him down. ‘I do not need to know the details. The point is you are quite right, Mr Fox. Revenge is what we evil villains feed off. It is our life-blood. It is what makes us tick. You seek revenge on chickens. And I seek revenge on humans. That is why I brought you here. I think we may be of use to one another.’

  ‘You mean you’re not going to eat me?’

  ‘Probably not,’ said Raptorov, lingering a little too long on the word ‘probably’ for Thaddeus’s liking. ‘I wish us to be friends. Come, let me show you something.’ The owl shuffled off towards the other end of the cave. Thaddeus followed him. The owl led him through a tunnel in the rock face into another cave. Thaddeus looked about him in bewilderment. The edge of the cave was lined on two sides with a low rock shelf. Arrayed upon one shelf was a collection of stones. Standing upon the other was a rack of test tubes, several hypodermic syringes and various tiny bottles of liq
uid.

  ‘This is my laboratory,’ Raptorov said. ‘This is where I shall conduct my experiments.’

  Thaddeus gulped. This was getting creepier and creepier, like something out of a horror film. ‘Experiments?’ he echoed.

  The owl appeared not to have heard him. Instead it said, ‘Have you ever thought what the world would be like, Mr Fox, if there were no humans?’

  Thaddeus was having trouble keeping up. The owl talked in riddles. ‘Er, yes, and, er, no,’ he replied cautiously.

  ‘Well, I have,’ said Raptorov. ‘You see, Mr Fox, I was once imprisoned by humans. They used me for their own experiments.’

  ‘What sort of experiments?’

  ‘Genetic engineering,’ said Raptorov. ‘They gave me the DNA of other species to improve my already formidable talents. They made me the most superior bird in the whole world. Little did they know that their efforts would be rewarded by the annihilation of their own species.’

  ‘Ah, so that’s what you’re after, a spot of annihilation,’ said Thaddeus. He could see that Raptorov was warming up to a big-head villain speech. Usually it was him who made those, but he had the feeling it wouldn’t be wise to interrupt the owl at this particular moment. His shoulders were still painful from where Raptorov’s talons had pierced his coat. He didn’t want any more perforations in his fur.

  ‘Freedom to an owl is everything.’ Raptorov spoke in a chilling voice. ‘And the humans took away my freedom, Mr Fox, for ten long years. That is why I hate humans, just like you hate chickens. That is why I want what you want: REVENGE!’ He chuckled softly.

  ‘Yes, good idea, so what’s the evil plan?’ Thaddeus said, hoping to cut the speech short.

  He didn’t succeed. Like all evil villains, Raptorov enjoyed an audience. ‘It is this, Mr Fox: to create a world where the natural order is restored; where birds rule the planet and humans are extinct. A world very much like it was millions of years ago, during the time of the dinosaurs …’

  He’s barking! thought Thaddeus, although he nodded in what he hoped was an evil, villainous sort of way.

  ‘Did you know, Mr Fox, that birds are the last living dinosaurs?’ Raptorov said.

  ‘Er, no,’ Thaddeus replied. He didn’t usually pay much attention to birds, except to eat them.

  ‘It is the truth, Mr Fox. We are. But instead of being what we once were, we have evolved to become weak. When I was in captivity, however, I began to see a way to make our species strong again. What if more of us could be genetically modified, like me? What if we could become like the dinosaur birds of old?’ He paused. ‘I am a patient bird, Mr Fox. I could have escaped my captors sooner but instead I waited. I learned everything I could about genetic engineering; about how to make a rat fly and a sloth run as fast as a cheetah …’

  Completely bonkers! Thaddeus nodded vigorously.

  ‘… Eventually I was ready. I made my escape. All I had to do was find a place where dinosaurs had once roamed. That is why I chose Stormy Island: the cliffs here are rich in dinosaur fossils …’ He gestured at his collection of rocks.

  Stormy Island? The tombstone-shaped rock he’d spotted from his room at the convalescent home for distressed foxes? So that’s where he was! Thaddeus had been wondering. He felt as if it was time he said something intelligent. Raptorov seemed to be expecting it. ‘So, what exactly are the … er … fossils for?’ he said. Personally he couldn’t see how a bunch of old dinosaur rocks could make birds rule the world or humans extinct. The only thing they might come in useful for was to bash Raptorov over the head with while he was in mid-rant so that Thaddeus could make his escape.

  Raptorov fixed him with his beady eyes. ‘I have discovered a way to extract DNA from them,’ he pronounced. ‘I will use it to modify the DNA of bird-kind to create a race of pre-historic dino-birds. Imagine, Mr Fox, if you will, the power of such a race. Very soon we would rule the world and the humans would become extinct.’

  Dino-birds? Even if Raptorov was crackers (which he obviously was), Thaddeus had to admit it was a brilliantly evil plan. Ambitious too. He had to admire the owl’s audacity. He, Thaddeus, tended to think in less global terms, although he had once set up a foxy battery farm in the city. And it would have worked, if it hadn’t been for Rooster and his elite-chicken squad. Thaddeus ground his teeth. The thought made him seethe.

  ‘I see you are thinking of your own problem, Mr Fox,’ the owl said, regarding him steadily, ‘and wishing you could come up with an equally evil plan to annihilate chickens.’

  ‘I’m just a bit rusty, that’s all,’ Thaddeus said huffily.

  ‘Indeed,’ Raptorov inclined his head. ‘I meant no offence. I wish to help you, if you are prepared to help me.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I need birds to conduct my experiments on,’ said Raptorov. ‘Your job, my friend, is to lure them here, without them suspecting anything. If you do this successfully, I will allow you to test out my new breed of dino-birds on your chicken enemies. I promise you, no chicken will ever challenge you again. Your revenge will be complete.’

  ‘What if I refuse?’ asked Thaddeus.

  ‘Then I will kill you.’

  Thaddeus sighed. It was a bit of a no-brainer, really. He didn’t fancy his chances against Raptorov, not in his current emaciated state, and even if he could overpower the owl, he didn’t know how to escape from the caves or get away from the island. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I’ll do it. Do you have any particular birds in mind?’

  ‘Yes,’ Raptorov said smugly. ‘They are birds of the most horrible kind I have ever seen: scrawny, mean and utterly revolting in their habits. Combined with the correct dinosaur DNA they will be invincible.’

  ‘Where do I find them?’ asked Thaddeus.

  ‘At Stormy Cliff Caravan Park,’ said Raptorov. ‘They are taking part in the annual Granny Hen Beach Volleyball Championships. There is no time to waste, Mr Fox. You must lure them here across the causeway tonight so that I may begin my work.’

  A causeway? That made things easier. A sly grin spread over Thaddeus’s face. ‘Do you have a pen and paper by any chance?’ he said.

  The next day Amy woke up to the sound of furious quacking. James Pond was outside, and unlike the previous morning it sounded as if he was raring to go!

  ‘Pssst!’ she prodded Boo and Ruth. ‘It’s James Pond. It’s time for the mission.’

  The three chickens let themselves out of the caravan quietly.

  ‘There you are!’ James Pond snapped. ‘About time! We’ve got a new problem. The granny hens have vanished.’

  ‘Raptorov!’ gasped Amy. The eagle owl had struck at last.

  ‘Not just Raptorov,’ said James Pond shortly.

  ‘What do you mean, not just Raptorov?’ asked Boo.

  ‘Take a look at this.’ James Pond thrust a piece of paper towards them.

  ‘Thaddeus E. Fox!’ exclaimed Amy. The invitation had all the hallmarks of the fox’s work. He was notorious for inviting trusting chickens to pretend parties and then trying to eat them. ‘What’s he doing here?’

  ‘Search me,’ said James Pond, ‘but it looks like he’s teamed up with Raptorov. We’ll have to surprise them both. Hopefully they’ll be fast asleep, full of chicken.’

  ‘You think they’ve eaten all the granny hens?’ Boo asked with a shudder.

  ‘Of course,’ said James Pond. ‘What else would they do with them?’

  It was a good question. Amy had started to believe that maybe Raptorov wasn’t interested in chickens after all and that Ruth was right; he was here for the fossils. But teaming up with Thaddeus E. Fox and attacking the granny hens put paid to that theory.

  ‘We don’t have any weapons to defeat Thaddeus,’ she said.

  ‘Then we’ll just have to set up a decoy,’ James Pond replied. ‘You three distract Thaddeus while I fit the homing device on Raptorov. Once Thaddeus sees what we’ve done to his new owl buddy my guess is he won’t hang around. Especially without the MOST WANTED Club
to back him up. Now come on.’ He began to limber up ready for take-off.

  ‘Should we take the Emergency Chicken Pack?’ asked Amy.

  ‘I think we’d better,’ said Ruth. She strapped the bulky backpack on over her flight booster engine, her face pensive.

  ‘Don’t worry, Ruth,’ said Amy, ‘we can manage Thaddeus.’

  ‘It’s not that,’ Ruth said.

  ‘What is it then?’

  ‘I’ve just got a feeling something’s wrong. The invitation said something about Raptorov’s “laboratory” and “experiments” and “dinosaurs” before Thaddeus crossed it out. What if Raptorov hasn’t eaten the granny hens at all? What if he’s using them for something else?’

  Amy and Boo glanced at one another. Ruth was still sticking to her alternative fossil theory, despite the evidence.

  ‘Like what though?’ asked Boo.

  ‘That’s the trouble,’ Ruth sighed. ‘I still don’t know.’

  ‘Hurry up!’ James Pond quacked impatiently from above.

  ‘We’re coming!’ shouted the chickens and off they went towards the island.

  This time they landed on the ledge outside the cave. There was no sign of the granny hens or the villains.

  Ruth took out the evil baddie Geiger counter and held it towards the cave entrance. The needle shot to the top of the dial. Raptorov and Thaddeus! The baddies’ combined evilness was too much for the Geiger counter. The two of them together were literally off the scale.

  James Pond took the lead. He crept into the cave, the chickens following behind.

  They were wearing their infra-red super-spec headsets so that they could see in the darkness. Ruth paused at the pile of stones. She picked one up and inspected it carefully. Her face assumed an even more worried expression. Silently she offered the stone to Boo and Amy to take a look.

  Amy could see the outline of another claw. This one was smaller than the one they had found on the beach, but it was still unmistakably that of a dinosaur.