The Ruby Redfort Collection: 4-6: Feed the Fear; Pick Your Poison; Blink and You Die. Lauren Child

The Ruby Redfort Collection: 4-6: Feed the Fear; Pick Your Poison; Blink and You Die - Lauren  Child


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came out of the minimart and noticed some kid with a styled-unstyled look – he was standing there with two other boys but he sort of looked like he might be waiting for someone. When she passed him he half turned around like he might say something to her, but he didn’t. Instead he jumped on his skateboard and grabbed the bumper of a passing truck and was carried off into the traffic.

      It was kind of impressive – dangerous, sure – but practical in a cool sort of way. Skitching was something she needed to try.

      When Ruby reached the green she looked up at the old oak and searched for some sign of Clancy. She could see the bike that had once been hers and was now his, but he was not visible. She whistled – two short, one long – and immediately the whistle came back, one long two short. He was already up high in the tree’s branches.

      Bug lay down on the grass – he knew the deal – and he waited patiently while Ruby set about climbing. It took longer than usual, what with her arm trouble, but she was a good climber so she made it OK.

      Ruby and Clancy Crew sat side by side on the old oak’s highest sitting branch. From here they looked down on Amster Green and its surrounding shops. The leaves were so plentiful that no one could see them from the sidewalk. The two of them used the tree not only for hanging out in, but also as a good place to hide coded messages for one another. Even if someone was smart enough to find the origami notes in the knots of the tree’s bark, they certainly wouldn’t be smart enough to decipher the ciphers.

      The sun was still hot considering the time of day, so the foliage provided welcome shade. Though school summer vacation was nearly over, there was no sign of summer’s end or of fall’s beginning anywhere on the horizon – not a frost-curled leaf or a gusty breeze. Certainly no one yet believed that it was ever going to be any different, any cooler. It seemed no Twinforder could remember back to when the weather had been anything less than 30 degrees. It had been a remarkable summer. The best of it had meant beach time and barbecues and long social evenings, swimming in garden pools and hanging out late into the night, but no one could deny that this had come at a cost – the heat-wave had exhausted the city and left forests ravaged by fire. The fire services had been on red alert and crime had been a little higher too, something to do with the temperature boiling people’s minds, or so the psychologists said.

      ‘My mom doesn’t think the weather’s ever gonna break,’ said Clancy.

      ‘Yeah, well, your mom’s wrong,’ said Ruby.

      ‘Well, duh, of course I know that. I’m just making the point that it’s hard to imagine, it just seems so normal, being hot all the time, never having to remember a sweater, for instance.’

      ‘Yeah,’ said Ruby, ‘but any day now it’s gonna break and when it does, you’ll be needing more than a sweater.’ She itched her broken arm by sliding the yellow pencil under the cast and moving it from side to side.

      ‘I can’t wait that long,’ said Clancy.

      ‘Chew on some ice or something,’ suggested Ruby. ‘Oh boy, will I ever be glad to get this cast removed.’

      ‘When are they hacking it off?’ asked Clancy, who was hoping to be there when the nurse cut through the plaster with the electric saw thing.

      ‘Tomorrow,’ said Ruby. ‘They warned me when I had it put on that my arm might be all withered and hairy and not the same as the other one.’

      Clancy stared at her, his mouth forming an O.

      ‘Don’t look so excited about it,’ said Ruby.

      ‘I wasn’t looking excited, I was looking interested. I mean mismatched arms – could be cool.’

      ‘Well, the hairiness is temporary.’

      ‘Shame,’ said Clancy. ‘Hey, have you been watching that show?’

      ‘What show?’

      ‘That illusionist guy, Darnley Rex,’ said Clancy. ‘He has a new show, you know, magic and stuff. Boy does it ever do your head in.’

      ‘It’s all about planting an idea in your brain. It’s all done with words, that’s what you gotta remember,’ said Ruby. ‘Before you know it, they have convinced your mind to think you are seeing something else or even are something else and the next thing you know you are clucking like a chicken.’

      ‘I sorta wish it was magic, though,’ said Clancy. ‘I mean I know it isn’t, but wouldn’t it be crazy if it was?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ said Ruby, ‘if Darnley Rex could get the whole country clucking like chickens then he could take over the world. Not a happy prospect.’

      A minute passed before Clancy ventured, ‘So have they given you a medal yet?’

      ‘Who?’ said Ruby.

      ‘Spectrum, have Spectrum awarded you a medal?’

      ‘A medal for what?’ said Ruby.

      Clancy looked puzzled. ‘For nearly being burnt alive in a forest fire, of course.’

      ‘Why would they do that? People don’t just go around getting medals for not getting burnt alive in forest fires, otherwise everyone and anyone would get one.’

      ‘OK, not just for not getting burnt alive, but how about all that other stuff you did?’

      ‘That’s what I’m paid for, that is my actual job,’ said Ruby. She paused. ‘Though, maybe not for much longer,’ she added.

      ‘What?’

      ‘Spectrum. They’ve taken me off field training indefinitely.’

      ‘Indefinitely?’ mouthed Clancy.

      ‘Well, unless I take this test and pass it – fail and I’m out, stuck at a desk for the rest of my career, like old Froghorn. It’s kind of a last-chance-saloon kind of deal.’

      ‘You’re not serious!’ said Clancy. He was flapping his arms now. ‘You cracked that whole wolf case! They should be giving you a medal, to show their appreciation, a job well done and all that, like in the army, not—’

      ‘Look Clance,’ Ruby interrupted, ‘for A: this ain’t the army, and for B: it wasn’t a job well done. I’m bummed about it too, but I think what you gotta understand is that it isn’t really a thanking-with-a-medal-type situation – I mean there’s no “thanking” in secret agenting. You do well, you get another assignment; you louse up, you get your marching orders – that’s about it. I pulled it outta the bag with the whole code-breaking-and-case-solving thing, but I loused up my survival training, nearly got myself killed, and worse – lost what was left of the Cyan perfume. It’s not medal-worthy stuff. So. . . I guess I’m lucky I’m even getting another chance.’

      She didn’t feel lucky though. She felt royally hard done by. Clancy sucked hard on his drink. ‘What’s the test?’

      ‘No idea.’

      ‘But you’ll pass it, right?’

      ‘I sure hope so,’ said Ruby. She didn’t want to think about what she’d do if she got kicked out of the Spectrum Field Agent Training Programme. Sure, she got a big buzz out of code breaking, but she lived for the thrill of working as a bona fide all-action agent.

      They climbed back down the tree. Ruby was quicker on the descent, though when she made the final jump from the low branch to the ground she stumbled and found she was unable to steady herself. She thumped down on the grass and landed awkwardly on her shoulder.

      ‘Rube, you sure you’re ready to go back to work?’ asked Clancy.

      ‘Sure I’m sure, never felt better, considering.’ She dusted herself down.

      ‘Well, that’s great Rube, but have you considered that this traumatic event may have had a traumatic impact on you? Subconscious and all – but there nonetheless?’

      ‘Have you been reading


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