The 13th Horseman - By Barry Hutchison Page 0,44

just to go for it. “I think he’s going to try to destroy the world.”

Mel looked back at him blankly.

“I mean, I’m not sure, but he might be.”

“Right,” she said slowly. “Because I was thinking he might be sleeping in his classroom or something. Like, maybe he couldn’t pay his rent.”

“Or it could be that,” Drake backpedalled. “It could be that too.”

Mel considered the alternatives. “Either one’s reason enough to snoop around in the cupboard, I reckon.” She made up her mind. “If he’s planning on destroying the world, then we’ll stop him. If he’s using the cupboard to sleep in then we’ll, I don’t know, fart on his bed or something. Deal?”

“Deal,” said Drake, then he drew in a breath. “Imagine he was planning to destroy the world,” he said. He tried to sound like he was joking, but his voice took on a serious tone all by itself. “What if we couldn’t stop him? What if no one could?”

Mel thought about this. “That,” she announced, at last, “would be a real bummer.”

THIS TIME, THEY waited until lunch before going anywhere near Dr Black’s classroom. He was on guard duty at the canteen, making sure the food didn’t incite anyone to riot. This meant he would be out of the way for at least twenty-five minutes. That left plenty of time for Drake and Mel to snoop around.

The cupboard door, however, was still locked. Drake studied it. He tapped the wood in several places, without having any real idea why. He’d seen them do it in DIY shows on TV before, so presumably it must serve some purpose.

“I suppose I could try walking through it,” he said. One of the good things about Mel, he had discovered, was that he could say almost anything he wanted to her, and she never seemed in the least bit surprised. Like just then, for example.

“You could try that, certainly,” she said. She held up a key. “Or, we could try this.”

Drake’s eyes lit up. “Where did you get that?”

“Like I said, I have my sources. Don’t ask too many questions,” she said mysteriously. Then she added, “It was there. On the desk.”

“Oh,” said Drake, a little disappointed. If there really was something sinister in the cupboard, Dr Black was unlikely to leave the key just lying around for anyone to find. “Give it a try, then,” he urged.

Mel slid the key into the lock. There was a soft clunk as it turned. Mel pushed the door open and a cool breeze hit them both in the face. From within the cupboard, Drake heard the low drone of an air-conditioning system, and a feeling of dread began to pump through his veins.

“Mel, wait,” he said, but Mel was already stepping into the darkened space and fumbling for the light switch. He bounded in after her as the light came on, revealing a room just two metres wide, and about three times as long.

The cupboard was completely empty, aside from a table that took up almost the entire length of the back wall. A black cloth covered the table and hung down to the floor on all sides. On top of the tablecloth were tools and circuit boards and oddly shaped pieces of metal. Above it, bolted on to the ceiling, two fans noisily pumped out cold air.

Mel raced up to the table and began prodding at the circuit boards. Drake was more cautious. The fans were just like those in the Junk Room cave. He kept his eyes open for self-assembly robotic demons as he walked over to join her.

“I don’t believe I’m seeing this,” said a voice from behind them. Drake and Mel turned to find Mr Franks in the doorway of the cupboard. He had his arms folded across his chest and an expression that was halfway between disappointed and furious. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

Mel was talking before an excuse could form in Drake’s head.

“I’m glad you’re here, Mr Franks,” she said. “Something fishy’s going on.”

“You’re breaking into Dr Black’s cupboard. That’s what’s fishy,” the teacher said reproachfully.

“No, check this out,” Mel said, indicating the circuitry and components on the tabletop. “Tell me this isn’t weird stuff for a history teacher to have lying around?”

Despite himself, Mr Franks peered past them. He cast his gaze across the items on the table.

“What is that stuff?” he asked, staying back by the door. “You shouldn’t be messing about with it. Dr Black wouldn’t like it.”

“No,”