Read Online The Amazing Spencer Gray by Deb Fitzpatrick - Free Book Online

pressed the address book button, and scrolled through the names. Airstrip, Karl & Kate, Hospital switch, Milano’s, Reg, School, Surgery, Suzie. He stopped. Mum. He pressed the button and her mobile number came onto the screen. He pressed CALL, then VOICE CALL.
    His heart punched his chest like a fist.
    There was a long silence while the phone tried to connect to her, tried so hard to link them.
    Please, please...
    Spencer heard three too-loud beeps, then silence. He looked at the screen. The mobile’s battery was fine: there was the little battery symbol showing it was almost fully charged. On the left, where the signal strength was usually indicated, he saw it: blankness. Not even one column.
    â€˜No!’ he shouted, and the fear in his voice scared him. He looked again at the screen. Surely there was something, some reception, some phone tower nearby? Spencer’s thumb went into a frenzy, pressing through the list of names in the address book again. Reg. Reg! He could help. He’s the man! Maybe Reg was closer to them, nearer by, and the phone could reach him.
    Spencer pressed CALL again, and held the phone hard against his ear.
    â€˜Come on, come on!’ Crouching, he rocked, as if movement might help the phone signals collide in the air. ‘Trying to connect, trying to connect,’ he murmured.
    But the silence was long and cold. He heard a noise outside and turned around. It was raining. The sky was the colour of a gun.

25
    Since no one else was departing from Skippers Cove airstrip that day, and he wasn’t expecting any arrivals, Reg pulled across the enormous steel doors that closed the hangar to the elements. He noted that the wind had picked up somewhat, could see the sock pulling hard to the south-east, its mouth gaping wide to the north like a plankton-feeding whale shark. He made a mental note to keep an eye on the conditions.
    The Doc and his boy would be back around 3pm, so that gave Reg plenty of time to go home now and have some lunch and a little nap before returning to meet them, help push the Drifter off the runway and sign off on the paperwork for their flight. As the duty pilot, it was his job to make sure the day’s flights were completed safe and sound.
    Right now, though, ham and cheese toasties and a snooze were beckoning him.

26
    The wings of the Drifter intercepted the raindrops loudly. They should have landed gently in the soil, on the small scrubby leaves, a quiet arrival, but not this fat splot splat splot.
    Spencer looked at Dad. His knee had swollen to the size of a footy, despite the ice.
    And Spencer suddenly realised: even if he could wake him, what was Dad going to be able to do? Hop down the mountain?
    The Drifter’ s radio was down. There was no mobile reception. He either had to sit tight and wait for help to come to them, or he had to go and find help himself.
    â€˜Mphhhhh,’ Dad groaned.
    Spencer leaned over. ‘Dad?’
    â€˜Mm?’
    â€˜Dad, if I talk, can you hear me?’
    He moved his lips painfully, and croaked, ‘Yesh.’
    â€˜Okay. I’m gunna talk, and tell you what’s happened and what I know.’
    â€˜Mmph.’
    â€˜We’ve crashed. The Drifter, it’s crashed.’
    â€˜Yesh.’ His eyes moved behind the lids.
    â€˜We’re on the side of the Stirlings. Bluff Knoll. The big one.’
    Dad frowned. ‘Sho shorry ... gushty wind...’
    â€˜I know, Dad, don’t worry about that now, it doesn’t matter.’
    â€˜Shorry...’
    Spencer gripped Dad’s hand. ‘Dad, I think you’ve broken your leg—or your knee. It looks bad.’
    â€˜Mmph.’
    â€˜I think you might have some other ... injuries, too. But I don’t know what they are. It’s just that you’re unconscious most of the time and I don’t think that can be from the leg.’
    There was silence for a moment, then Dad said, ‘No.’
    â€˜Do you know what