Monster island, p.1
Monster Island, page 1
About the Book
After following his mum to her top-secret new job, Bernie finds himself on Monster Island.
Here, extinct and mythical creatures are alive! But that’s not the only mystery. Why are there so many mushrooms? Where have the hostile drones come from? And why are they spying on the island’s creatures?
Bernie and his new friend Ivy are determined to find out – even if that puts them in the path of danger . . .
AN ACTION-PACKED ADVENTURE WHERE DINOSAURS ROAM, SECRETS ARE DANGEROUS AND DROP BEARS REALLY DO EXIST!
Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title Page
Dedication
Prologue
A New Job
Out to Sea
Into the Mist
Discovered
Into the Jungle
Dinosaurs
In the Ditch
Lea-Lea
Right Now!
Sandwiches
Paw Prints
Animals
Waiting
Back into the Jungle
Hide
Ms Evans
Fun Guy
More Drones
Mushrooms
Return Journey
Proof
Working Together
Professor Bolete
Poachers
Caged
The Pilot
Pursuit
The Fungal Core
Confrontation
Catered
Epilogue
Bolete’s Report
Fact and Fiction
About the Author
Books by George Ivanoff
Imprint
Read More at Penguin Books Australia
This book is for my awesome kid, Alex, who I imagine would have a wonderful time visiting a place like Monster Island.
SKREEEEEEEEECH!
The metal hatch slid back with a protest, revealing a large chute, black with shadow. For a moment, the darkness within was still, then came a glint from animal eyes reflecting the light.
The creature shot out of the chute and skidded to a stop in the centre of the sawdust-strewn space. It lifted its snout and snarled, displaying two long, curving canines, surrounded by smaller, but equally dangerous-looking, teeth.
It looked like a large reptilian wolf, but with much more pronounced rear legs. It had a squat snout and long ears. Its scaly skin was brown, mottled with green, and spines ran from the top of its head, down its back, to the base of its tail.
Pacing the length of the observation enclosure, the creature warily watched its watchers. Coming to a sudden halt, it lifted its front legs off the ground, as if trying to stand like a human. It looked like a hunched person, spine curved and misshapen, unable to straighten completely. Its jaws opened wide, displaying its needle-sharp teeth, then, as it hissed, a long, forked tongue darted from its mouth, tasting the air.
‘Oh my giddy aunt,’ breathed Doctor Gillian Saunders, Director of Research, taking a step closer. ‘What in the name of zoology is that?’
A group of scientists in white lab coats were gathered in front of a glass wall that looked into the observation room.
‘Zoology is the wrong word,’ said Doctor Hikaru Tanaka, the group’s palaeontologist, coming to stand next to his boss. ‘Cryptozoology might be more accurate.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Doctor Saunders turned from the creature to look at her subordinate.
‘The thing is . . .’ Doctor Tanaka hesitated. ‘It looks like a chupacabra.’
‘Surely, you jest?’ Doctor Saunders had her hands on her hips and an unfathomable expression on her face.
‘No . . . I’m serious. It matches eyewitness descriptions of the famous chupacabra cryptid of Puerto Rico. I realise that no actual evidence of the creature’s existence has ever been produced . . . until now, that is.’ Doctor Tanaka was rambling, caught up in the excitement of the revelations. ‘As a paleontologist and zoologist, I’ve always assumed cryptozoology to be a pseudoscience at best. But I guess I’m going to be rethinking that stance. As a matter –’
Doctor Saunders held up a hand to stop him. ‘That was a rhetorical question.’ The hint of a smile played at the corner of her mouth. ‘I do have a great deal of faith in your professional opinion.’
‘Oh.’ Doctor Tanaka grinned. Then quickly regained a neutral expression. ‘Thank you. Thank you very much.’ He turned to gaze through the window. ‘I call him Chewy.’
Doctor Saunders also looked at the creature. It was back on all fours, pacing the enclosure. ‘I know this island has given us many enigmas, but this is a whole new level. How do you suggest we proceed?’
‘There’s someone I think we should recruit.’ Doctor Tanaka paused, as if uncertain. ‘She has degrees in several disciplines, including zoology and palaeontology, and an extensive research and publication history. She has also conducted some cryptozoological research.’ He hesitated again. ‘I think she would be invaluable.’
‘But?’ prompted Doctor Saunders.
‘But,’ continued Doctor Tanaka, ‘she’s a little unconventional. And . . . well . . . she has just been fired by one of the most prestigious universities in Australia for pursing the study of cryptozoology against the request of her employer. And she’s been publicly ridiculed for her outrageous theories.’
‘Hmmm.’ Doctor Saunders nodded, never taking her eyes from the chupacabra. ‘She sounds perfect.’
Bernie couldn’t see a thing.
He was hiding in the back of the strange car. It was a cross between a limousine and a van – long, wide and with a large storage compartment instead of a boot.
The car had arrived at midnight to whisk his mum off to her suspicious new job. Feeling the need to protect her, he’d had the brilliant idea of sneaking into the back of it. So here he was, wedged between suitcases and boxes in the dark, straining to hear the voices from the front of the car.
His mum was peppering the driver with questions.
‘So . . . which island am I going to?’
‘What’s the name of the ship?’
‘I don’t suppose you know if they’ve hired any other palaeontologists?’
‘I really couldn’t say,’ was the driver’s standard reply. He eventually put on some loud music, obviously to shut Mum up.
It wasn’t long before the music began irritating Bernie. It was too loud. It made it difficult to think. He tried sticking his fingers in his ears, but that was uncomfortable.
Eventually, about half an hour later, the car stopped.
‘Mist Finder!’ Bernie heard Mum talking again. ‘That’s an odd name for a ship, don’t you think?’
‘I really couldn’t say,’ answered the driver.
Bernie couldn’t believe it. Mum wouldn’t answer his questions back home, saying she wasn’t allowed to. And now here she was asking lots of questions that the driver seemed intent on not answering.
‘It’s quite large, isn’t it?’ continued Mum. Bernie smirked. She was never any good at taking a hint. ‘What’s all that stuff they’re loading onboard?’
‘I really couldn’t say.’
‘Of course,’ said Mum, with a sigh. ‘Thank you for the scintillating conversation. Such a shame we have to part company.’ There was rattling sound and then Mum spoke again. ‘Why is the door locked? And don’t you dare say that you can’t say.’
‘Apologies, Doctor Bailey, but access to the dock is restricted,’ explained the driver. ‘They don’t like people wandering about on foot. As soon as the loading is finished, I’ll drive aboard and you can get out of the car. Until then, I’m afraid that you’re stuck with my scintillating conversation.’
Bernie could hear the sarcasm in the man’s voice. And then the music started up again.
The wait was excruciating. Bernie’s leg muscles were beginning to cramp and his back was sore from being pressed up against boxes. And the music kept going and going. It was so loud! Maybe following his mum hadn’t been such a good idea after all. But what else could he have done?
Everything that had happened was just too weird.
Two weeks ago, his mum had been fired from her job at the university because of a paper she’d written about the need for the serious scientific study of cryptids – mysterious animals that most people didn’t think existed. Bernie still couldn’t understand how she could lose her job over something like that. But she had. And there’d been all sorts of stuff in the newspapers and online about how she couldn’t be a proper scientist if she believed in creatures like the Loch Ness monster, the Yeti or Big Foot. But that was the thing . . . she didn’t believe in their existence. She believed in the possibility of their existence. Surely a proper scientist should investigate the possibility of these animals? Bernie wanted to be a scientist when he grew up and he definitely wanted to go in search of hidden animals.
Things hadn’t looked great when his mum suddenly got a phone call from a research centre offering her a job. They said they needed her ‘unique skills and perspective’. They said it was for a ‘confidential research project’. They said she had to start immediately and she had to live at the research centre. As a result of all that, she was leaving him with his Aunt Millie and heading off.
Bernie thought it all sounded super fishy.
‘What exactly is this new job?’ he asked, as him mum packed.
‘I’m not one hundred per cent sure,’ his mum answered evasively, as she threw clothes into her suitcase. ‘And I wouldn’t be allowed t o tell you anyway. I had to sign a non-disclosure agreement. Which means I’m not supposed to talk about the job with anyone.’
‘I’m not just anyone. I’m your son.’
‘Yes, I know that, dear. But I still can’t talk about it.’
Bernie decided on a different question. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Offshore research station.’ His mum was now shoving down on the contents of the suitcase, as if that would somehow make more room.
‘What does that mean?’
‘A research facility on an island.’ She didn’t even look up as she spoke.
‘And where’s this island?’
‘In Bass Strait.’
‘Which island?’ demanded Bernie. ‘King Island? Flinders Island? Clarke Island? Cape Barren Island?’
‘I don’t know. None of those.’ She sighed as she finally snapped her suitcase shut and looked at her son. ‘It’s a small island. I don’t know its name.’ She quickly held up her hand before Bernie could ask anything else. ‘I’m a zoologist, not a geography teacher, kiddo!’
She grabbed the second suitcase and carried it off to her study. Bernie followed. He knew all about Bass Strait and its islands. And he also knew about the Bass Strait Triangle. It was an area of water between mainland Australia and Tasmania, where many ships and planes had mysteriously disappeared over the years. The British warship HMS Sappho disappeared in 1858. The SS Ferdinand Fischer in 1906. Planes such as the Miss Hobart in 1934 and numerous aircraft during World War II. And the most famous one of all – the case of Frederick Valentich, a pilot flying a Cessna light aircraft to King Island, who radioed in a report of seeing UFOs, just before disappearing in October 1978.
The Bass Strait Triangle wasn’t as famous as the Bermuda Triangle (which was near America) and most people didn’t know about it. But Bernie did! And it worried him that his mum was going there. He didn’t want her to disappear. And why would a research centre be there? What could they possibly be studying in the middle of the Bass Strait Triangle? A chill went up his spine.
‘Well, why can’t I come with you?’ asked Bernie.
‘No children allowed, I’m afraid. Not to mention the fact that you have school.’ His mum opened the case and started to load it up with books and papers and files from her overcrowded desk. He noticed that she was packing material on dinosaurs as well as cryptids. What was this job?
‘Do you have to leave tonight?’ asked Bernie, his voice starting to take on a whiny note.
‘It’s a condition of the job,’ she answered patiently. ‘Immediate start. They’re sending a limo to bring me to the dock.’
‘But, Mum –’
‘Bernie, listen.’ His mum stopped packing and came to stand in front of him, putting her hands on his shoulders. They were face to face. At 165 centimetres, Bernie was on the tall side for a 13-year-old and his mum was on the short side for a grown woman. They both had sandy blond hair and light freckles, although his mum’s hair was in a neat bob while his was short and unruly. ‘I need this job, honey. I’m behind on mortgage payments. Electricity, gas and water bills are about to arrive. And then there’s food and school and all sorts of other stuff. Given all the publicity when the university sacked me, other job offers are not going to be rolling in. And . . .’ Her face brightened. ‘This job is very well paid.’ She paused to smile at her son. ‘I know this is difficult. The secrecy. The short notice. The extended time away.’ She paused for a moment to frown, and Bernie hoped that she might come to her senses. But then she continued. ‘And I’m going to miss you. But let’s just make the best of it. I promise I’ll ring every day and message all the time. And send emails and memes and . . . you’ll probably be sick of me by the time I get home.’ Then she gathered him up into a hug.
As Bernie hugged her, he heard her sniffing back a tear.
At last, the car started to move again, jolting Bernie out of his memories. They must be going up the ramp into the ship, he thought.
Finally, the car and the music stopped. There was a loud reverberating clang, the car shook slightly and then there was silence.
Bernie felt disorientated lying in the darkness. He couldn’t wait to get out.
‘Can you unlock the door now?’ he heard his mother ask.
Bernie listened to the car doors open and close, footsteps on metal flooring and muffled voices. He waited a few more minutes until he was sure they were gone.
It was only then that the thought struck him – how was he going to get out?
Bernie had a moment of panic, his heart racing, but he took a few deep breaths to calm himself.
So much for his grand plan. He was beginning to realise that he hadn’t put quite enough thought into it. Oh sure, he’d worked out the first part in detail: say goodnight to his mum; go to bed fully dressed; pretend to be asleep; sneak out of the house five minutes before his mum was due to leave; conceal himself in the back of the limo. But that’s as far as his plan went. If he’d stopped to consider this before sneaking out, he might not have gone through with it.
But he’d been so concerned about his mum. She had lost a job that she loved. She had been publicly ridiculed. She had lots of bills to pay. And he was worried that she was rushing into this new job without thinking things through properly. A job that didn’t feel right. A job that would take her into the Bass Strait Triangle.
He didn’t want his mum to become a mysterious disappearance.
He fumbled about in the dark. His hands found a switch on the inside of the rear doors.
Click!
He pushed the doors open and peered out. It looked like the car had been parked in a large garage. He hardly had the chance to register where he was when a clang made him retreat. He listened as footsteps echoed. There was the sound of nearby rummaging, then more footsteps moving away. Bernie opened the doors, crept out and chanced a peek around the limo. A slightly portly man was walking between vehicles towards the far end of the garage. He wore a drab brown suit and carried a black briefcase. He disappeared from view and another clang indicated that he had left.
Bernie remained crouched behind the limo for a few minutes to make sure he was alone. Then he stood up and glanced around. All seemed clear. Taking a deep breath, he assessed his surroundings. The walls and floor were metal and there were no windows, light being supplied by florescent tubes on the ceiling. He realised that it was the cargo hold on the ship. As well as the limo, there were several jeeps, a couple of utes, a digger, various small vehicles and what looked like a hovercraft. In the far corner, there were large metal storage containers.
Bernie leaned on the limo and heard a click.
‘No,’ he whispered, as he tried the doors. He’d locked himself out. And his backpack was still inside – with his phone in it. Oh well, he thought, it wasn’t as if he’d been planning to call Aunt Millie just yet. He figured that now was the time to explore!
Behind the limo was a large roller door. He wasn’t getting out that way. Instead, he weaved his way through the other vehicles until he reached the far side of the cargo hold. He paused at the door as he heard something behind him. A buzzing sound.
He turned to see movement among the vehicles. He ducked down behind one of the nearby jeeps and watched cautiously. A black shape rose up from one of the utes. It hovered in the air, the buzzing sound echoing around the space. It was a drone. Bernie watched as it began to fly around the perimeter of the cargo hold. It was only a matter of time before it got to him.
Bernie lowered himself to the floor and edged under the jeep. He held his breath as the sound came nearer, then passed by. He rolled out from under the vehicle and stood up just in time to see the drone return to the ute.
