out.
He turned right and followed the fence for about fifty metres. After a while the wood fell back and he came to a pair of gates, firmly locked together with a heavy padlock on a thick, discoloured chain. On one of the gates was a sign, the words painted in faded red paint on a peeling wooden board:
OMEGA ONE PROPERTY OF HM GOVERNMENT TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED
Omega One. Now Matt wondered if the building might have some military use. The sign said that it was government property. The Ministry of Defence? Briefly he examined the gates. They were old but the padlock was new, meaning someone had been here recently. There was no way he was going to get it open. He looked up and saw razor wire twisted round the top. So much for that.
With growing curiosity Matt continued round, following the fence, hoping to find a tree he could use to climb over. Instead he found something better. There was a hole in the wire, where several strands had rusted loose, and it was just about big enough to allow him to squeeze through. He glanced at his watch. The morning was wearing on but he still had plenty of time.
He was about to squeeze through when someone grabbed hold of him and spun him round.
“What are you doing?” a voice demanded.
Matt’s heart lurched. After his time alone in the wood he hadn’t dreamt for a minute that there would be anyone else here. His fist was already curled in self-defence, but then he recognized the fair hair and red face of the man who had approached him in Lesser Malling – the one who had warned him to leave.
“I got lost,” Matt said, relaxing slightly. “What is this place?” He gestured at the building on the other side of the fence.
“It’s a power station.”
Matt studied the man more closely, noticing that he was carrying a shotgun, the two barrels broken over his arm.
“You shouldn’t be here,” the man said.
“I told you. I got lost. I was looking for…”
“What were you looking for?”
“I saw lights in the forest. Last night. I wondered what they were.”
“Lights?”
“And I heard something. Strange noises – a sort of humming. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on around here? You warned me to go away.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I tried.” Matt left it at that. He was in no mood to explain what had happened to him on the moonlit roads. “What were you warning me about?” he demanded. “Why is everyone in Lesser Malling so weird? Who are you?”
The man seemed to relax a little – but his eyes remained watchful. He rested a hand on the barrel of his gun. “My name is Burgess,” he said. “Tom Burgess. I’m a farmer. I own Glendale Farm, down the Greater Malling road.”
“And what are you doing here? Are you guarding this place?”
“No. I’m hunting. These woods are full of foxes. They come for my chickens in the night. I’m out to get a few of them.” He patted the gun.
“I didn’t hear any shots.”
“I didn’t see any foxes.”
Matt looked back at the building. “You said this place was a power station,” he began. Suddenly the shape seemed more familiar. He had seen pictures at school. “Is it a nuclear power station?”
Burgess nodded.
“What the hell is it doing here?”
“It’s nothing.” The farmer shrugged. “It was experimental. The government put it here a long time ago. It was before they started building the real things. They were looking into alternative sources of energy so they built Omega One, and when they’d finished all their experiments they shut it down again. It’s empty now. There’s nothing there. Nobody’s been anywhere near it for years.”
“They were here last night,” Matt said. “I heard them. And I saw lights.”
“Maybe you were imagining things.”
“I don’t have that much imagination.” Matt was angry. “Why won’t you tell me the truth?” he went on. “You warned me I was in some sort of danger. You told me to run away. But I can’t run away unless I know what it is I’m running from. Why don’t you tell me what you know? We’re safe here. Nobody can overhear us.”
The farmer was clearly struggling with himself. On the one hand, Matt could see that he wanted to talk. But strong though he was, and armed as well, he was still afraid. “How could you begin to understand?” he said at last. “How old are you?”
“Fourteen.”
“You shouldn’t be here. Listen to me. I only came to this place a year ago. I was left money. I always wanted to have my own place. If I’d known… If I’d even had the faintest idea…”
“If you’d only known what?”
“Mrs Deverill and the rest of them…”
“What about them? What are they doing?”
There was a rustle in the undergrowth, followed by an angry snarl. Matt turned and saw an animal appear, stepping out of a patch of fern a couple of metres away. It was a cat, its eyes ablaze, its mouth wide open to reveal its fangs. But it wasn’t just any cat. He recognized the yellow eyes, the mangy fur…
He relaxed. “It’s all right,” he said. “It’s only the cat. It must have followed me here.”
But the farmer’s face had turned white. All at once he had snapped the barrel of his gun shut and raised the whole thing to his shoulder. Before Matt could stop him, he pulled the trigger. There was an explosion. The cat had no chance. Tom Burgess had emptied both barrels, and lead pellets tore into its fur, spinning it in a horrible somersault over the grass, a ball of black that spat red.
“What did you do that for?” Matt exclaimed. “It wasn’t a fox. It was just a farm cat.”
“Just a cat?” The farmer shook his head. “It was Asmodeus, Mrs Deverill’s cat.”
“But-”
“We can’t talk. Not here. Not now.”
“Why not?”
“There are things happening… things you wouldn’t believe.” The colour hadn’t returned to the farmer’s face. His hands were trembling. “Listen!” he whispered. “Come to my farm. Tomorrow morning – at ten o’clock. Glendale Farm. It’s on the Greater Malling road. Turn left when you come out of Hive Hall. Will you be able to find it?”
“Yes.” Then Matt remembered. “No. I’ve tried finding my way round these lanes but they don’t seem to lead anywhere. I just end up where I began.”
“That’s right. You can only go where they want you to go.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s too difficult to explain.” Burgess thought for a moment. Then he grabbed hold of a leather cord around his neck. Matt watched as he drew it over his head and held it out. He saw there was a small, round stone – a talisman – dangling from it, and on the stone was a symbol engraved in gold. The outline of a key.
“Wear this,” Burgess said. “Don’t ask me to explain it, but you won’t get lost if you’re wearing it. Come to my house tomorrow. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
“Why not now?” Matt demanded.
“Because it’s not safe – not for either of us. I have a car. You come to my house and we’ll leave together.”
Tom Burgess strode away, heading for the line of trees.
“Wait a minute!” Matt called after him. “I don’t know how to get out of the wood!”
Burgess stopped, turned round and pointed. “Look under your feet,” he shouted. “You’re standing on the road.” Then he was gone.
Matt examined the ground around him. There was a line of black tarmac, barely visible beneath the weeds and the pine needles. He would have to follow it carefully, but at least it would lead him out. The stone talisman was still in his hand. He ran a finger along the key, wondering if it was real gold. Then he slipped it around his neck,
