Poison Island Read online

  CONTENTS

  TITLE PAGE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  COPYRIGHT PAGE

  If it were up to Zac, the Power family would have stayed right where they were, cruising in a jumbo jet 30,000 feet above the ocean.

  Zac sat listening to music on his SpyPad with the sound turned right up, finishing off his chocolate ice-cream. The cabin was dark. Around him, everyone was dozing. It was as warm and cosy as naptime at kindergarten.

  ‘Zac! Take off those headphones this minute and listen to me.’

  His mum’s cross face appeared beside him in the darkness. She showed him the time on her watch. 12.06 a.m.

  Uh-oh.

  ‘You were supposed to have your gear on three minutes ago,’ his mum said, half-whispering and half-yelling. ‘We can’t afford mistakes at this stage of the mission, Zac.’

  Sighing, Zac reached under the seat for his backpack. He’d been having an excellent daydream about playing a guitar solo in front of thousands of fans. But there was no chance he’d be doing that any time soon.

  Instead, Zac slipped on his jumpsuit, goggles and parachute.

  Zac looked over at his brother, Leon. Leon had already changed and was now busy tucking his favourite book, The Manual of Advanced Electronic Gadgets (4th Edition), safely into his jumpsuit pocket.

  Again, Zac wondered how he’d ended up with a big brother as geeky as Leon.

  Zac’s dad leant over from the seat behind them. ‘Nervous, Leon?’ his dad asked.

  Leon was shaking with fear already.

  ‘What about you, Zac?’ his dad asked.

  Zac shrugged. As if he was worried! He was 12 years old now, and anyway, he’d done this a million times before.

  If anything, Zac was bored. What was the point of death-defying adventures if you had to keep them secret? Zac’s mates had no idea he was a spy for the Government Investigation Bureau (or GIB for short). Or that his code name was Agent Rock Star.

  As far as they knew, Zac was away on another soppy old family holiday. There was nothing cool about that.

  Anger bubbled up in Zac. He was just about to say something to his dad when he noticed an air hostess walking towards him. She had a fake-looking smile on her face. ‘Would you like a lolly, little boy?’ she asked.

  Little boy! Zac’s fists clenched.

  ‘Come with me,’ she went on, ‘and I’ll show you where they are.’

  The air hostess pushed Zac towards the back of the plane and through some curtains. A bowl of lollies sat on the bench. Zac took a red one, but the air hostess slapped it out of his hand.

  ‘No! The green one,’ she said, sounding tough now that they were alone.

  Zac popped the green lolly into his mouth. The sugar coating melted instantly, leaving behind a small disk on his tongue.

  ‘Your mission,’ explained the hostess. ‘Guard it carefully.’

  Then she stepped on a square of carpet and a trapdoor popped open. ‘Into the airlock, Rock Star,’ she ordered.

  Zac stepped down into the dark space beneath the trapdoor. He straightened his goggles and ran his fingers through his black hair. It flopped back into exactly the same place, the way it always did.

  He was ready. The air hostess silently counted down on her fingers.

  Zac took a flying leap out the airlock and into the black night. A second later, he was falling at 200 kilometres an hour.

  Wind rushed past him. It roared in his ears. It sucked his cheeks back hard against his skull. Zac tugged his ripcord and his parachute opened.

  His whole body jolted as he slowed to a drift.

  Finally, Zac’s sneakers slammed into the ground below. He’d found the drop zone. He fell clear of his chute and into a commando roll.

  He got up and looked around. Where on earth was he? He didn’t know what dangers would be waiting for him, or what kind of people he might meet on this mission.

  It was hot, steamy and very, very dark. Zac held his hand up in front of his face. Nothing. He couldn’t see even a centimetre in front of him.

  The darkness made the croaking of frogs and the angry buzzing of insects seem even louder. It was raining hard, and Zac was soaked already.

  I’d better get moving, he thought with a shudder. Before the leeches and mosquitoes find me!

  He felt in his pocket for his SpyPad. The SpyPad looked like a tablet, but was actually way more advanced than that. It was a mini-computer, mobile satellite phone with voice scrambler, laser and code-breaker all rolled into one.

  Zac had the turbo deluxe model, which came with amazing retina display and heaps of cool games. But this was no time for playing.

  Zac spat out the disk the air hostess had given him and loaded it into his SpyPad.

  A message popped up on the screen:

  Suddenly, Zac heard a noise from behind him.

  He turned around.

  Then he heard it again.

  Somewhere to his right, Zac heard footsteps. A hand clapped him across the back.

  ‘Rough landing, son?’ his dad asked. ‘That was Agent Frost playing the air hostess. Hopeless, didn’t you think?’

  Nothing about spying was ever easy or comfortable, in Zac’s experience. He wished they could just get on with the mission. Then he could get home and practise some more Axe Grinder songs.

  His mum’s serious voice cut through his thoughts like a knife. ‘What are our orders, Zac?’

  As Zac passed her the SpyPad, he heard a worried voice. ‘Mum? Dad? Zac?’

  ‘Shhh, Leon! Anyone could be listening,’ said his mum. Then she read the mission on Zac’s SpyPad. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘It’s already one-twenty,’ said his dad. ‘That doesn’t give us much time. We’ll have to split up.’

  Zac’s mum looked at the compass on her wrist. ‘OK, Zac, you and Leon head east to the centre of the island.’

  Then she added in a quiet voice just for Zac, ‘I’m counting on you to look after Leon.’

  Zac rolled his eyes. His mum may as well have put handcuffs on him. Even though he was older, Leon was slow, scared and a generally hopeless spy.

  Zac wished, just this once, he could finish a mission all by himself. He’d really be a hero then.

  ‘Your mum and I will search the coastline,’ his dad continued. ‘If you see anything suspicious, message us with your SpyPad.’

  As his parents left, his mum whispered in his ear. ‘We’re heading straight home after the mission. You’ve got to walk Espy.’ Espy, short for Espionage, was the family dog.

  With that, his parents were gone.

  Zac and Leon were alone.

  ‘Ready, Leon?’ asked Zac gruffly.

  ‘Um, Zac … I’m tangled in my parachute.’

  Zac sighed. It was going to be a very long mission.

  Zac and Leon might have been walking through the jungle, but it felt like they were swimming in glue.

  Zac was hot and tired already, and they’d only been walking for an hour.

  Dripping with sweat, Zac stopped to listen for the crunch of Leon’s footsteps. But behind him, everything was silent. Surely not even Leon could be lost already?

  Zac turned. There was Leon, a few steps back. He was standing with his head to one side, listening to something. His glasses were two round patches of steam.

  ‘Listen, Zac,’ he whispered.

  ‘Who is it? Dr Drastic?’

  ‘No,’ said Leon. ‘Frogs.’

  Zac gave Leon his like-I-care face.

  ‘Hundreds of them,’ Leon continued. ‘And by
the sounds of it, they’re dentrobates!’

  Zac grabbed Leon’s arm. He almost ripped it from the socket. ‘Let’s just keep moving, OK?’

  ‘Dentrobates, or Poison Dart Frogs,’ said Leon in a huff, ‘have the most deadly poison of any known animal in the world. If you just touch one, it will paralyse or even kill you.’

  ‘OK, whatever,’ said Zac, pretending he wasn’t impressed.

  They walked on in silence.

  A few minutes later, something made Zac stop again. He had the creepy feeling that someone was watching them.

  Then Zac heard a noise — it was so quiet he wasn’t sure it was real.

  There it was again!

  It sounded like leaves rustling. He hadn’t imagined it.

  Next, Zac heard a click and the soft whistling sound of something flying through the air.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ he whispered.

  Silence.

  ‘Leon?’ he said again. ‘Are you OK?’

  But Leon didn’t answer. When Zac turned to look at him, Leon had the weirdest look on his face, like he was sleeping with his eyes open.

  Leon wobbled unsteadily on his feet.

  He was going to collapse!

  Zac saw something sticking out of Leon’s back. A dart! That was what he’d heard whistling through the air.

  Zac ran back, bracing himself for a as his brother hit the ground.

  But suddenly a huge net fell from the trees above. Leon was tangled up like an insect in a spider’s web. Pulleys dragged the net up into the treetops again, taking Leon with them.

  It was a booby trap! And the men firing the darts must be Dr Drastic’s henchmen. Was Leon dead or alive?

  Zac couldn’t tell. His stomach twisted in knots.

  He was supposed to look after Leon, but now Dr Drastic had him. He’d failed his parents. Even worse, Zac knew he’d failed GIB.

  Now that Leon was captive, Dr Drastic would know that GIB agents were on the island, looking for his secret lab.

  Whichever way you looked at it, Zac had blown the entire mission!

  Zac had only been standing there, thinking those dreadful thoughts, for a few seconds. But it felt like hours. And it must have given Dr Drastic’s henchmen the time they needed to reload their dart guns, because …

  A hail of darts shot through the darkness, straight towards Zac.

  Zac knew exactly what he had to do. On his first day in spy school, Zac had learned an important lesson:

  He’d have to rescue Leon later. Right now, Zac had to run.

  Dr Drastic’s henchmen were getting close.

  ‘Sending two kids!’ sneered one of them. ‘GIB must be getting desperate for spies.’

  Blood pounded angrily in Zac’s head. Kids! How dare they!

  He’d never moved so fast in all his life.

  ‘Stop him!’ yelled a henchman. ‘He’s getting away!’

  The two henchmen raced through the jungle after him.

  In the heat and panic, voices seemed to rush at Zac from all directions. Which way was forward? Which was up? Which was down? Was he going in circles?

  It didn’t matter. He had to get as far away from those voices as he could.

  Zac had no idea how far he ran, or for how long. Eventually, he noticed the voices behind him fading until, finally, they were gone. He’d outrun Dr Drastic’s henchmen.

  Hiding himself carefully behind a tree, Zac stopped at last. He had to decide what to do next.

  He felt in the pocket of his cargo pants for his SpyPad. Yes, there it was. Safe and sound. He flicked it on.

  He could call his parents, but that would mean telling them he’d lost Leon. He could call GIB, but then he’d have to admit he’d blown his cover.

  For one second, Zac imagined his mum’s face as he told her Leon had fallen into one of Dr Drastic’s booby traps. Then he punched in the secret number for GIB. The phone at Mission Control rang.

  ‘This is GIB. Prepare for security clearance.’

  Zac held his SpyPad to his fingertip while it scanned his fingerprint. Then —

  ‘Hello, Zac,’ said a voice at Mission Control.

  ‘Oh, hi,’ began Zac. ‘I — aahhhhhhhhh!’

  ‘Zac? Do you read me?’ came the voice on the other end of the SpyPad.

  But Zac couldn’t hear it. He’d tripped on a tree root, stumbled forward and let go of his SpyPad. As if in slow motion, the SpyPad was flying through the air. It hit a pitch of sandy ground, then, mysteriously, began to sink.

  Oh no! thought Zac. Quicksand!

  A spy could never be without a SpyPad. Zac had to get it back! He jumped into the quicksand, and straight away his hands closed around the SpyPad. Yes! It was safe.

  Right, thought Zac. Now to get out of this quicksand. It can’t be so hard …

  He tried to lift his left leg out. But the quicksand moved underneath him like liquid. It sucked him down even lower!

  He tried his right leg.

  No luck! He was sinking fast.

  Zac knew the best way to get out of quicksand: stay still and wait for someone to come and pull you out. But no-one except for Dr Drastic’s henchmen knew even roughly where he was.

  An idea popped into Zac’s head. What if he let himself sink all the way through the quicksand, until he reached solid ground at the bottom?

  Then he could use his official GIB Tramp-o-Socks to bounce his way out. Tramp-o-Socks were like ordinary sports socks, except each heel was fitted with an extra-springy miniature trampoline.

  Zac took a deep breath and duck-dived under the quicksand. It swallowed him up with a

  Zac wiggled off one sneaker, then the other. Even the slightest effort made him feel dizzy. He was running out of air!

  But just when Zac thought he couldn’t hold his breath for a second longer, he hit solid ground. With all his might, he hurled his heels in their Tramp-o-Socks against the bottom.

  Zac shot up, up, up through the quicksand and burst out the top. He soared though the air, gasping for air as he flew.

  He landed heavily on solid rock. He was right near the mouth of a cave.

  Zac crawled into the gloomy cave. Rocks cut his knees, but he didn’t care. He was just too tired to stand up.

  The cave smelt awful, like dead bat and sweaty armpit mixed together. Zac hardly noticed. A dark cave was the perfect place to hide for a while. Right now, that was all that mattered.

  Feeling along the rocky cave walls, Zac came to a ledge sticking out. Relieved, he crawled underneath and took out his SpyPad. The message light was blinking. Maybe someone at GIB knew he was in trouble and was sending back-up!

  The message was from Agent Bum Smack (his mum). It said:

  Thieves have raided the Government Mint.

  Millions of dollars stolen. Agent Tool Belt (Dad)

  and I have been sent to investigate.

  We’re sure you and Leon can handle

  Dr Drastic yourselves. x

  Water dripped on Zac’s head. He shivered. Everything now depended on him. Just a couple of hours ago, Zac had been wishing he could finish a mission all by himself. Now that it was really happening, Zac wasn’t sure he liked it after all.

  Zac switched his SpyPad to message mode. He needed to send GIB a full update. He was typing away when he heard a sound.

  It sounded like footsteps!

  Zac crouched down lower under the rock ledge. Yes, it was definitely footsteps, and they were coming his way.

  He stayed statue-still. He hardly dared to breathe!

  ‘How long’s this gonna take, Bruce?’ said a man’s voice.

  Zac listened closely. The voice was the same one he’d heard back in the jungle when Leon was captured. It seemed to come from further inside the cave.

  ‘As long as Dr Drastic says, Bradley,’ said the second henchman.

  What now? thought Zac.

  He could make a break for it and run out of the cave. But he didn’t like his chances of outrunning the henchmen twice in one day. Bet
ter to stay hidden. He might even learn something.

  As though he’d read Zac’s mind, Bradley piped up with a question.

  ‘Anyway, what’s Dr Drastic got in that lab that’s so important?’ he said.

  ‘You fool! It’s the boss’s biggest ever project — Solution X,’ said Bruce.

  ‘Oh, yeah? And how’s he make that?’

  In his rocky hiding place, Zac went red with excitement. This knucklehead was about to give him just the clue he needed to get the mission back on track!

  ‘Seen those poison frogs everywhere? Well, the boss discovered if you boil their poison and add a few secret ingredients, you get Solution X.’

  ‘Wow,’ said Bradley.

  Zac could tell that he didn’t understand anything Bruce had said.

  ‘It’s gonna make the boss rich,’ said Bruce.

  ‘So where do those little brats from GIB fit in?’

  Brats! Zac wished he could shout back something really rude.

  ‘Dr Drastic told the world’s governments he’ll sell them Solution X if they pay one million dollars each within 24 hours. Guess they don’t want to pay. GIB must’ve sent the kids to find the formula before time runs out and Dr Drastic destroys it,’ sniffed Bruce.

  Bradley sniggered. ‘Do they know he’s gonna kill that nerdy Leon kid too?’ he asked.

  Kill Leon? Zac shivered.

  ‘Dunno, Bradley. All we have to worry about is keeping Solution X and the kid safely locked in the lab until the deadline passes,’ said Bruce.

  ‘I’m sitting down then,’ said Bradley. ‘Bet we’ll be guarding the lab entrance for a while. And I’m starving!’

  The lab must be somewhere on the other side of Bruce and Bradley! Zac had to get past them, fast. But how?

  Suddenly, Zac had an idea. It was risky, but things were really desperate now.

  He turned his SpyPad Voice Scrambler on. He took a deep breath and shouted into the microphone.

  The voice that came out didn’t sound like Zac’s voice at all. It sounded exactly like a grown man selling snacks at a footy ground.