Brandon Abroad: The Secret of the Phantom Face

By Al Morin

Ten-year-old Brandon Fletcher and his family are on holiday in France. When visiting prehistoric caves, they experience the marvels of Neanderthal wall paintings.

Among the images of extinct animals are strange little symbols, including an especially baffling one called the Phantom Face. Brandon meets Luke, a French boy with a family

• Language: English
• Publisher: Acorn
• Release date: Jul 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9781913036584

Book preview

Title: Transform Within

Copyright © AL MORIN, 2018

Published by I_AM Self-Publishing, 2018.

The right of AL MORIN to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved.

ISBN 978-1-913036-58-4

This book is sold subject to the condition it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be circulated in any form or by any means, electronic or otherwise without the publisher’s prior consent.

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www.iamselfpublishing.com

Other books in the series

Brandon Abroad: The Mystery of the Ruins

Brandon Abroad: The Maharaja’s Treasure

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Contents

Chapter 1 The Midnight Ferry Crossing

Chapter 2 The Mysterious Announcement

Chapter 3 Let’s go There !

Chapter 4 Tent? It was More Like a House!

Chapter 5 An Interrupted Meal

Chapter 6 Auroch and Roll!

Chapter 7 The Phantom Face

Chapter 8 Neanderthal Number Seven

Chapter 9 Images from the Past

Chapter 10 We’ll Be Famous!

Chapter 11 The Answers are Connected

Chapter 12 The Family Bookcase

Chapter 13 Human Statues

Chapter 14 Making Tools and Jewels

Chapter 15 Surprises on the Hill

Chapter 16 Unearthing the Past

Chapter 17 The Skeleton’s Hand

Chapter 18 The Trip on the River

Chapter 19 Someone’s Secret Hideaway!

Chapter 20 What’s Inside?

Chapter 21 One Last Chance

Chapter 22 The Puzzle Solved

Chapter 23 A Gift or Two

Do you see it? my new friend asked.

Packed against the side of the wall of the massive hole, like a troll’s misshapen sofa, was a long mound of packed earth.

See what?

That!

The circle of torchlight moved, stopping halfway along the mound. There was something pale in colour sticking out of the dirt.

Bones. It was a human foot!

Chapter 1

The Midnight Ferry Crossing

It was early April. There we were at Portsmouth harbour, way past everybody’s bedtime. It was dark except for the fuzzy glow of an overhead spotlight, and the UFO brightness of the docked ferry boat. Jacketed against the chilly mist, I stood leaning against our white minivan, waiting to cross the English Channel.

There were four queues, consisting mostly of cars, SUVs and other minivans – with the occasional motorcycle or campervan. A few coaches and lorries, in a separate line, had already begun to drive onto the massive white ferry.

Some people sat in the shadows of their vehicles. Others, like me, braved the cold. People vaped clouds of white smoke, drank tea from metal flasks or ran on the spot trying to stay warm.

A small child from the car in front of us had spent the last fifteen minutes circling his Volkswagen, singing the first verse of The Wheels on the Bus. Please! Somebody teach that kid the rest of the song!

And, of course, there was my family…

"…but the French drive on the right. So, we need these little doodahs. Nobody took any notice of Dad as he kneeled at the front of the minivan, attaching stickers to the headlights. They make sure we don’t dazzle the oncoming drivers and cause accidents. A friend of mine once…" Blah, blah, blah…

Speaking of accidents, safety-obsessed Mum was inspecting the contents of the first aid kit. "Hmm, don’t seem to have any fingertip plasters… and look at this – the mosquito repellent is two weeks past its use-by date… and why don’t they have any…" Nobody was listening to her either.

My eight-year-old sister Natalie, lost in her own imaginary world, was having a muted conversation with her wild boar hand puppet. "…You’ll be fine, Tusky, these boats never sink… What? Who told you that? I’m sure the wild boars in France are very friendly… And don’t worry about that, either; you know I’d never make you eat that cheese with all the little blue bits…"

Gotcha, you stupid, overgrown lizard! Hayley, who was nearly fourteen, played her new favourite phone game, Jurassic Showdown. For this challenge, you must help your fellow prehistoric humans outwit and capture bloodthirsty dinosaurs.

And I, ten-and-⅚-year-old Brandon Fletcher, was bored. When this happens, I try and find ways to ease the boredom. Once I conducted a population survey on a new box of Cheerios. (2,754, not counting the broken ones.) Occasionally, I stage mock battles with my old toy figures. (Last time, it was Middle Earth Orcs versus Farmyard Animals – not a pretty sight!) And this past Saturday, when I couldn’t think of anything else to do, I found a copy of Green Eggs and Ham on Natalie’s bookshelf – and read it backwards. (…Mouse a with them like not do I. House a with them like not will I… It had a great rhythm and almost made sense!)

But my most effective anti-boredom strategy was to start an argument with Hayley!

Not bad, she mumbled, not looking up from her phone. My holding pit has one Allosaurus, three Velociraptors, two T-Rexes and… and one Spinosaurus! With that last ensnarement, she turned off the game. Another victory for the cave people!

Except for the fact… I said slowly, "…that when dinosaurs were around, there were no people – cave or otherwise. By the time the humans showed up, ol’ Steggysaurus and his pals had been gone a very, very long time."

"I know that, Clever Brother. They were wiped out by an asteroid. Seventy-five million years ago."

"Sixty-five, I corrected. Either way, your game makes no sense."

"That’s why it’s called a game, Neanderthal Brain."

What’s a ‘Nandertaw’? asked Natalie.

Neanderthal, dear, said Mum, closing the first aid kit. Neanderthals were people who lived in Europe a very long time ago.

"Known to some people as cavemen," I said.

"You know, Natalie, added Hayley. They were short and fat and hairy. Grunted a lot. If one wanted to marry you, he’d hit you over the head with a wooden club and drag you back to his cave."

Paleoanthropological nonsense, Hayley, Dad said from the front of the minivan.

Hayley stood with her hands on her hips. Dad, you’re speaking like a professor again.

Mum helped him out. Your father was trying to say that we used to have a bad opinion of the Neanderthals. Early scientists thought that they weren’t very clever. Or creative. Or nice, for that matter.

But now we know that’s wrong, Dad said, standing up to admire his work on the headlights. They were more like us. Capable of planning and inventing things and caring about each other…

You keep saying ‘were’, noticed Natalie, who didn’t miss much. What happened to them?

Good question, Natalie. They—

—Er, Dad, I said, Sorry to interrupt – but we’re going to miss the boat.

We were the only people still outside our vehicle! All around us, in every queue, engines were starting. Wheeled machines of all shapes and sizes started rolling towards a waving, shouting woman in a yellow high-vis jacket.

We scrambled into the minivan. Dad turned on the ignition and we joined the last queue, moving towards the ferry’s gaping mouth.

We’re going to France! We’re going to France! sang an excited Natalie. I love travelling! Then she turned to me. Don’t you love travelling, Brandon?

Hmm? Oh, yeah, me too. I do love travelling, except every time we go somewhere, something weird happens. I wonder what it will it be this time…

Chapter 2

The Mysterious Announcement

Just bring what you need for the night, Mum advised, getting out of the minivan.

"I can’t find my Beanos," whined Natalie, scrabbling on the seat next to me.

Here they are, I said, handing her three comics that had fallen on the floor. I stuffed my travel rucksack with Jules Verne’s Journey to the Centre of the Earth, a reading light, a bag of Starburst sweets and my drawing materials.

Once out