Read Online Raven's Gate by Anthony Horowitz - Free Book Online Page B

way. There was no sound coming from the wood. The electric lights had been turned off. His greatest fear was that he could run into Mrs Deverill, returning from wherever she had been. He listened out for the sound of her Land Rover but there was nothing. He was utterly alone.
    Matt tried to concentrate on what he was doing. He didn’t want to look at the woodland but he couldn’t help being aware of it as it pressed in on him on all sides. The trunks of the trees, in their long lines, were silhouetted against the moon. They were like the solid bars of a huge open-air jail. The branches, swaying slightly, cast a thousand shadows over the ground. The pine needles rustled together and almost seemed to be whispering to themselves as he pedalled past.
    Matt kept his eyes fixed on the road in front of him. He intended to cycle all night. The discovery of the photograph had made him determined. He was just going to have to chance it in London. Without money. Without anywhere to live. The police would probably find him in the end, but that didn’t matter. They could put him in a secure training centre for as long as they liked… Anything, so long as it didn’t involve Mrs Deverill or Lesser Malling.
    Why did she have a photograph of him in her wardrobe? How had she got her hands on a secret police report? And what did the death of his parents mean to her? It was a horrible thought but he wondered if Mrs Deverill had known about him before he had been introduced to her by the LEAF Project. In which case, could she have in some way chosen him? But that would suggest that she had been planning whatever was going on in Lesser Malling for years and years, and that he had always somehow been part of it.
    Well, to hell with the whole lot of them, Matt thought. His aunt, his social worker, Mallory, Mrs Deverill… He had been pushed around for too long. It was time to start looking after himself. He might be able to get a job in a kitchen or a bed and breakfast. He looked old for his age. Grimly, he pushed down on the pedals, urging the old bike forward. He checked his watch again. Two o’clock in the morning! He was surprised so much time had passed since he left the farm.
    There was a crossroads coming up ahead of him. Matt slowed down, free-wheeling the last few metres. He looked around him. There was a choice of five directions and a broken signpost without any names. It took him half a minute to work out where he was. Somehow, the lane he had chosen had brought him round in a big circle. He was back exactly where he had begun.
    Matt was annoyed with himself. He had wasted time and precious energy. Mrs Deverill might have got back to Hive Hall. She would have found the cat under the basket and checked Matt’s room. Perhaps she had already called the police.
    Gritting his teeth, Matt chose one of the other lanes and pedalled forward again. He was beginning to wish he had waited until the morning. No. He would have been set to work on the farm and, between them, Noah and Mrs Deverill always had him in their sight. He concentrated on his rhythm, left foot then right foot, listening to the bicycle chain as it groaned and creaked underneath him. The trees rolled by endlessly. About another twenty minutes passed. Matt was strong and he was fit again after his illness. There was a dull ache in his legs but otherwise he was fine. The road turned a corner.
    He stopped.
    He was back at the crossroads. It was impossible. The lane he had been following had run straight and he must have covered at least two miles. He gazed at the broken signpost with disbelief. It was the same signpost. There could be no doubt of it.
    Now he was angry. For this to happen once was unfortunate. But twice! It was stupid. He jerked the bike round and set off down the fifth lane, the one furthest away. He cycled more quickly this time, using his anger to lend himself strength. The night breeze rushed over his shoulders, cooling the sweat on the side of his head. A