The windows, he saw with relief, had not been blown in. Not yet, at least. He peered out of one of them. The panthers had not congregated here — they were too busy lurking by the main door. From here, the storm looked even more ferocious than when they were actually out in it. As he watched, it started to rain again, heavy, powerful rain that seemed to sheet down from different directions. Before long, he could barely see the turbulent marsh waters on either side of the road. The raindrops thundered on the roof of the building, almost — but not quite — drowning out the sound of the wind.
Ben was briefly transfixed by the awesome sight of the storm. And then, peeping round the back of the building, he saw something.
His face lit up.
'Danny!' he called. 'Angelo!'
The two of them turned to look at him. 'What?' Angelo asked, his face full of exhaustion.
'Round the back,' he said. 'I think there's a truck.'
Angelo blinked.
'Look,' Ben continued. 'I can just see its bumper through this window.'
The other two joined him. 'You're right,' Danny said.
The three of them continued to peer out of the window, captivated by the sight of the truck — perhaps their only chance of getting out of here safely. It was as they were staring that Ben noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Danny's gaze was flickering between the truck and Angelo and there was a strange expression on his face. Ben couldn't quite put his finger on it, but whatever it was, it made him uneasy.
Angelo broke the silence. 'How do we get to it?' he asked. 'Because if you think I'm walking out of that door when those panthers are there—'
Danny shook his head. 'Let's see if there's a back entrance. The noise of the rain might distract them.' His voice was tense. Clutching the shotgun, he disappeared into the back room. When he returned, he still had a serious look on his face. He nodded to the others. 'We can get out that way,' he said. 'I put my ear to the door and couldn't hear the panthers. And with a bit of luck there'll be a key in the truck.'
Ben looked out of the window again. The rain was still sheeting down. 'Do you think it's safe? Driving in this weather, I mean.'
Danny frowned grimly. 'Not really,' he said. 'But if these windows break like the other ones did, those animals are going to get in.'
Angelo nodded his head. 'Don't know about you, Ben,' he said, 'but I'm hungry. I'd rather eat dinner than be it.'
Ben shrugged. 'All right,' he agreed. 'Let's do it.'
He and Angelo walked towards Danny, who stepped aside to let them into the back room. As Ben passed him, he noticed that the man's hands were shaking. He stopped. 'You all right?'
Danny's face twitched and he seemed not to want to catch Ben's eye. 'Fine,' he replied. 'Just a bit, you know—' He glanced over in the direction of the main door.
'Right,' Ben replied. It was fair enough — they were all spooked by what had just happened. But still something didn't seem quite right. He tried to put the thought from his mind. He was on edge. They all were. They just needed to find the others and get out of the Everglades. Then everything would be all right.
'We should go out one by one,' Danny called as Ben and Angelo approached the back door. 'There might only be one door open. If we crowd round the truck, it'll take us longer to get in, and with those panthers out there—' He pushed past them. 'I'll go first,' he said. 'I'll open the passenger doors. Give me thirty seconds and then Angelo, you go next. Ben, thirty seconds after that. Keep this door shut — we don't want the panthers getting inside. OK?'
The two boys nodded.
'All right then,' Danny said. 'Good luck.' He opened the back door and the room seemed to fill with the howling of the wind and the rain. Swiftly, Danny stepped outside and shut the door behind him.
They waited in silence. Both of them, Ben knew, could feel the tension.
After about thirty seconds, Angelo nodded. 'Go for it,' Ben said quietly, then watched as his Italian friend disappeared out into the elements.
Now Ben was alone. He listened carefully at the door, his ears straining for the sound of the panthers attacking. But there was nothing. Just the noise of the rain and the wind. He tried not to think of what had gone before: the plane, the alligators, the panthers. The poster he had seen spoke of pythons too. That would be the icing on the cake, he thought to himself glumly as he waited for the time to pass.
Then, when the moment arrived, he took a deep breath, opened the door and stepped outside.
At first he was blinded by the rain. Ben barely took in his surroundings as he rushed to the truck. It was a sturdy-looking thing — a pick-up truck, bright red with huge, off-road tyres. There was a front cab, and the back was covered by a thick fabric that was flapping in the wind but seemed robust nevertheless. Ben sprinted to the front passenger door.
It was only when he got there that he realized something was wrong.
He blinked as he looked through the window and checked again that his eyes weren't deceiving him. But there was no doubt about it.
Danny and Angelo weren't there.
A sick feeling went through him. Almost involuntarily he spun round to see what had happened to them. And it was only then that he saw him.
Danny was standing right behind Ben, only a metre away. His hair was blowing in the wind. In his hands he gripped the shotgun. It was not pointing in Ben's direction, but was held by the barrel. Like a bludgeon.
And Danny's face was set, his eyes narrow.
'I'm sorry, Ben,' he said, quietly but without any real remorse. Without another word he slammed the butt of the gun down on the side of Ben's head.
As he did so, the wind shrieked horribly. It was the last sound Ben heard before he passed out.
Chapter Twelve
When Ben awoke, his head was in agony.
He was lying on his side, his face pressed against something cold and hard. His cheekbone juddered uncomfortably against the surface. Thanks to his grogginess, it was perhaps a minute before he realized that he was travelling in a moving vehicle.
He groaned and tried to put his hands to his head. It was only then that he realized his arms were tied tightly behind his back. He struggled to release them, but without any luck: something was digging deeply and painfully into his wrists, and the more he moved them, the worse it hurt.
It took a supreme effort for him to force his body into a sitting position. Outside the wind was still howling. It made the vehicle shake, which did nothing for the bruises on Ben's body or the pain in his head.
All around him it was dark and gloomy, but he could make out the figure of Angelo, unconscious beside him. His friend was also tied up, and an ugly welt on the side of his face suggested that he had received the same treatment as Ben.
With that thought, Ben remembered Danny. The way he had come up behind him; the implacable look on his face as he raised the butt of his gun and slammed it down on the side of Ben's head. How long ago that had been, Ben couldn't have said; but he worked out that they had to be in the back of the truck. Painfully he turned his head to look towards the front of the vehicle. There, separated from him and Angelo by a pane of glass, was Danny. Their companion was looking straight ahead, clearly focusing on the difficult drive. It was gloomy outside, and the headlamps of the truck illuminated the terrifying way forward. The rain was still sheeting down, and unknown objects were flying around in the air. Danny's gun was resting on the passenger seat next to him. The moment Ben saw it, his mind started working overtime. How could he get his hands on the weapon? How could he get himself and Angelo out of this situation? And what on earth was Danny playing at?