by Jacob Grey
The big man, Jawbone, grinned for real. It twisted his face, making him look even scarier, like a hungry dog. “What d’you say, friends? Should we crawl back to our cells?”
The short man sniggered, and the woman’s tongue flickered over her lips. “I say we refuse his kind offer,” she said. “He tastes a little scared to me.”
Mr Strickham brought his other hand to the hilt of his gun to steady it. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I’m the one with the bullets, and a squad of police officers on the way.” He glanced behind him.
Suddenly Caw felt nervous.
“Leave this to me,” said Jawbone. “I’ll catch up when I’ve dealt with him.”
The others nodded and melted away into the alley – the short man shuffling, his tall companion almost gliding.
“Hey!” shouted Mr Strickham. “One more move and I’ll shoot!”
There was a flash and a deafening crack as Mr Strickham’s pistol went off. A warning shot, but the prisoners ignored it. The woman took one fork, the short man the other. The next moment they were gone.
“Just us now,” said Jawbone, moving slowly towards Mr Strickham.
“I don’t like this,” said Caw. “We should help him.”
In a flash, Jawbone lunged, and his shovel-like hand gripped the gun and twisted it from the Warden’s hand. With a cry of pain, Mr Strickham cradled his arm, backing away.
Jawbone tossed the gun behind him. “Never liked guns,” he said. “They kill too quick.” He reached out and gripped Mr Strickham’s neck, then hoisted him one-handed into the air. The Warden’s legs kicked out weakly as his face turned red, then purple.
Caw’s stomach churned with fear. It was a long way down from where he stood on the roof. He thought he could make it with a couple of jumps, but what then? He swallowed, and swung a leg over the parapet.
Then a new voice called out. “Leave him alone!”
At the end of the alley, a small shape had slipped from the shadows. Caw caught his breath. It was Lydia – the girl from the house! She still wore her pyjamas and a dressing gown. One of the laces of her trainers was trailing. How had Caw not seen her following?
Her father twitched in Jawbone’s death-grip, his face horribly contorted. Jawbone grinned, then threw him aside like a ragdoll. Mr Strickham slammed into the rubbish bin and collapsed in a heap.
“Lydia?” he croaked, managing to get to one knee. “Oh, God. No.”
Jawbone aimed a kick at Mr Strickham’s stomach and he crumpled with a moan.
“Dad!” shouted Lydia, rushing towards him. Jawbone grabbed at her, seizing a handful of her hair and yanking her round to face him. Her face twisted in pain.
“Let me go!” she yelled, scrabbling at his arm.
“Now!” whispered Caw to the crows. “Get him!”
He flipped around so he was facing the wall, then released his grip and plummeted, hitting the ground hard. He fell into a backwards roll, coming up to see that Screech and Glum had already swooped down on to Jawbone’s head. Kow-kow-kow! they screamed.
Jawbone dropped Lydia and swatted at the crows with his massive arms.
“Get them off me!” he bellowed.
The prisoner punched the air as the crows raked his face with their claws. A fist caught Screech and sent him crashing into a wall. He slid to the ground, but flapped away just as Jawbone’s foot came down in a stamp. Glum squawked and stabbed his beak at the prisoner’s eyes. Jawbone staggered, his spider tattoo writhing as he fought off the attack. Screech threw himself bravely back into the fray.
Caw rushed to Mr Strickham’s side, and he and Lydia helped him stand. At the same time Caw realised that the girl was staring at him, open-mouthed.
Mr Strickham frowned in confusion, watching the crows swirl around Jawbone in a blur of feathers. The giant was twisting like a man fighting shadows.
“Come on!” Caw said, pulling Mr Strickham away. “Run!”
But Mr Strickham staggered in the opposite direction, and Caw saw he was heading for the gun on the ground.
“Dad! Leave it!” said Lydia, running after him. Too late. Mr Strickham reached the gun. He wheeled around, bringing the barrel up to point at Jawbone. And the crows.
“No!” yelled Caw. He threw himself at the Warden’s arm, as the gun went off with a crack. The sound lanced through his ears, and Caw clenched his eyes shut against the stabbing pain. When he opened them again, Mr Strickham was mouthing at him furiously, but Caw couldn’t hear the words. He turned and saw Jawbone had gone, and so had his crows.
Gradually sound seeped through his eardrums.
“… saved us, Dad,” Lydia was saying.
“He helped him escape!” said Mr Strickham.
Lydia put a hand on his arm. “That man was going to kill you!”
The radio on Mr Strickham’s belt crackled and panicked voices came through. “Sir, where are you?… Shots fired! … Warden Strickham?”
Mr Strickham plucked the radio off his hip. “Alleyway between Rector’s and Fourth,” he said. “I’ve lost them.”
The hard lines of Mr Strickham’s face softened. He looked at Caw, and his nostrils twitched like he’d smelled something bad. Lydia was looking at him too, and Caw felt his face getting hot. “Who are you?” said Mr Strickham.
Caw didn’t know what to say. If there were police on the way he had to leave, or they’d send him to an orphanage. His eyes searched the roofline for the crows.
“Those birds,” said the Warden. “What was that?”
Caw backed away, letting his feet take him towards the other end of the alley. He felt trapped. The crows were right – he should never have interfered.
“Hey! You’re not going anywhere, young man!” said Mr Strickham. “I need a statement.”
Caw turned and ran. His ears picked up the sound of dogs barking again, not far off. He heard another crackle of a radio. He had to get back to the nest.
“Come back!” said Mr Strickham.
“At least tell us your name!” the girl shouted after him.
Caw reached the street, and saw cops running towards him.
Up here! Screech called.
Caw glanced up and saw the three crows perched on a chain-link fence twenty metres away, where the street ran to a dead end. One of Screech’s legs looked crooked, as though it was broken. He’s hurt, thought Caw. He’s hurt because of me.
There was a patch of wasteland beyond. The old railway station. Caw ran towards the fence.
Arcs of torchlight picked out his body and several voices yelled at him to stop.
He leapt on to the metal mesh, and swung his legs over the top, landing on the other side. When he looked back, he saw a dozen officers coming towards him, with three or four dogs. Lydia and her father were there too.
Caw slid down the embankment and out of sight.
“Hold it!” cried the Warden.
No way, thought Caw. He ran, and he didn’t stop until he’d doubled back to reach the park again. He peered at both ends of the street, making sure that no one was watching, then climbed over the gate. As he scrambled over, one of his flapping shoes came loose and fell to the street. No time to go back for it. He jumped down to the other side.
Finally, his pumping blood began to calm. He was safe here in the shadows. Home.
He walked slowly back to his tree, limping a little on one bare foot.
Well, that was fun! said Glum sarcastically, already in the nest as Caw clambered up.
Did you see me? said Screech. The way I got him? He hopped up and down, mimicking his actions. Peck! Scratch! Claw!
Caw heaved himself on to his bed and lay on his back, letting the sweat cool on his body. He suddenly felt very tired indeed.
I was pretty brave, right? said Screech.
“You were both incredible,” Caw told them.
Milky was perched at the side of the nest, looking completely unruffled. He hadn’t joined in the fighting. His blind eyes stared in Caw’s direction.
“What’s going on, Milky?” asked Caw. “Who were those prisoners?”
The old white crow was silent and still as a marble statue.
I think he’s done talking, said Glum.
“The spider,” said Caw. “I dreamed it. And then it was there in real life, on that prisoner’s chest. You know what it means, don’t you?”
Milky cocked his head and turned away.
aw woke to the crows all squawking as one. The nest was rocking gently.
“What’s going on?” he said.
Get away! yelped Screech, flapping madly. Intruder!
Adrenaline flooded through Caw’s body and he sat up, reaching for a weapon. He managed to find a cracked plastic spoon, just in time to see a head poking up through the hatch.
“Wow!” said Lydia, resting her hands on the timbers of the nest. “This place is amazing! It’s way bigger than it looks from down there.”
Caw pressed himself into a corner, clutching the spoon in front of him like a knife. She was wearing a baseball cap, which made her red hair fall straight, curling under her chin. In the light of day, he realised she had a smattering of freckles he hadn’t seen the night before. Her eyes shone.
“Hey! Don’t point that thing at me!” she said.
“How did you find me?” Caw demanded. “No one knows about this place!”
Lydia beamed with pride. “I’m good at sniffing things out,” she said. “I’ve seen you sneaking around by our place before, watching us from the wall next to our house. So I figured you must live around here somewhere. And when I was out walking Benjy this morning, I found this by the park gate.”
Lydia dropped Caw’s shoe on the floor of the nest.
“I reckoned the park would be a perfect place to go if you didn’t want to be found. So I hopped over the gate and searched until I saw this funny thing stuck up in a tree. Not bad, huh?”
Suddenly Caw felt silly. But he was too embarrassed to lower the spoon.
“What are you doing here?” he said.
Lydia smiled. “I could ask you the same question. Don’t you have a home? Don’t you have parents?”
Caw shrugged. “I live here,” he said. “Just me.”
“Cool!” she said. “Are you going to invite me in?”
Caw glanced at Glum. Don’t even think about it, said the crow, puffing out his chest.
“No,” said Caw.
“Oh, come on!” she said. “Pretty please?”
Give her a little shove, said Screech. The young crow hopped forward menacingly, then skipped back again.
“No!” said Caw. “Leave me alone!”
The girl’s face fell. “All right, all right,” she said. “Chill out. Just give me a second to catch my breath, OK? Then I’ll go.”
As she tucked a lock of hair back into her cap, still with her head and shoulders poking into the nest, Caw’s fear evaporated. She was just a girl. What harm could she do?
Lydia blew out her cheeks. “OK. I’ll leave,” she said.
“Wait!” said Caw. He glanced at the crows then sighed. “You can come in for a bit,” he mumbled.
No! said the crows in unison. Caw lowered the spoon.
“Phew!” she said, grinning. “You could really have hurt me with that.”
Caw couldn’t help smiling, despite himself.
The girl scrambled up into the nest and settled cross-legged on the platform. She was wearing jeans and a pale hooded top, streaked with leaves and dirt. She took off her cap and shook her hair free, watching Screech and Glum with a look of puzzlement. Milky would be outside, Caw knew – he never slept in the nest.
“So these birds are your pets?” she said.
I am not a pet! said Glum.
And I’m not just any bird! protested Screech. I’m a crow.
“Sort of,” said Caw.
Sort of? said Glum and Screech together. Lydia jerked back a little. Caw realised that to her it sounded like two angry squawks.
“They live with me,” he said.
“Did you train them?”
Screech chuckled. Cha-Cha-Cha.
“So what’s it like, hiding out in this park all the time?” Lydia asked.
Caw felt a flash of annoyance. “I’m not hiding,” he said.
“OK then. So why are you always spying on me?”
Caw couldn’t hold her stare. “I wasn’t.”
“Liar,” she said, but with a smile. “I thought you were a burglar at first, but then I thought, no one’s stupid enough to rob the Warden of Blackstone Prison. Anyway, I forgive you. I’m Lydia, by the way.” She held out her hand.
Caw looked at it.
She leant forwards and took his hand, placing it in hers, then shook it up and down. “And you are?”
“I’m … Caw,” said Caw.
Lydia grinned. “What sort of a name is that?”
Caw shrugged. “It’s what I’m called.”
“If you say so.” Lydia looked around the nest. “So did you build this place?”
Caw nodded. He couldn’t help a flush of pride.
With some help! said Screech.
Lydia looked up, narrowing her eyes at the crows.
“With some help,” Caw added.
“Are you talking to the birds?”
Crows, please, said Glum.
“Well …” said Caw. He almost lied, then thought better of it. “Yes. And they’re crows.”
“OK, that’s seriously weird,” said Lydia.
Glum hissed at her.
“Sorry,” she said nervously.
“Don’t worry,” said Caw. “He’s always in a bad mood.”
Take that back! said Glum.
Lydia cocked her head. “I just wanted to come and thank you,” she said. “You ran away pretty quickly last night.”
Caw shrugged. “I just … happened to be there. It’s no big deal.”
“And your crows,” said Lydia. “I suppose I should thank them too. They were very brave.” She turned to them. “Sorry – you were very brave.”
Glum ruffled his feathers. Flattery will get you nowhere, my girl, he said.
“He says it was nothing,” said Caw. Suddenly his stomach let out a rumble. He hadn’t eaten a thing since the chips from the takeaway two days ago.
Lydia’s eyes lit up. “Are you hungry?” she asked, taking off her backpack.
“A little,” Caw admitted.
She fished inside and took out a chocolate bar in a blue wrapper. “Here you go,” she said, offering it to him across the nest.
Caw took it from her like it was a precious thing, and peeled the wrapper away carefully. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten chocolate.
Careful, said Glum. It might be poisoned.
Caw rolled his eyes, then took a huge bite. His teeth sank through the thick chocolate, and it melted over his tongue. The bar was gone in seconds, sweetness coating the inside of his mouth.
“A little hungry?” said Lydia, still grinning. “Here.” She handed him an apple. Caw tried to eat it more slowly, in methodical bites. The fruit’s flesh exploded juice into his mouth, and it dribbled over his chin.
Save a bit for us! said Screech.
Caw tossed the core to the two crows, who attacked it with their beaks. He didn’t worry about saving any for Milky. The white crow rarely ate.
“The scrawny one looks hurt,” said Lydia, pointing to Screech’s crooked leg.
Who’s she calling scrawny? said Screech.
“Come here, little crow,” said Lydia soothingly. “Let me take a look.”
She’d better not be talking to me, said Screech, lifting his beak haughtily. I’m not little.
Glum gave a throaty laugh.
“He’s just a bit nervous,” said Caw.
Lydia leant towards Screech. “I could make a splint,” she said. “You’ve got plenty of junk here I could use. And I’m good with animals.”
Screech hopped away from her.
“Let her try,” sai
d Caw. “She might be able to help.”
“I’ve got another apple,” said Lydia, taking it out of her bag and handing it to him. “Here.”
Caw ate more slowly this time, watching as Lydia fashioned a splint out of twigs and string. Screech extended his leg gingerly, and she fastened the splint into place. Milky, Caw noticed, had dropped into the nest through the small opening in the tarp at the far end. Caw didn’t think Lydia even knew he was there. But the blind crow seemed to be watching them with his sightless eyes.
“Done!” she said, with a clap of her hands. “It’s not broken, but he should keep it rested.”
Screech peered down at the splint. It’s not a half-bad job! he said.
“He says ‘thank you’,” said Caw. He almost smiled again, but caught himself. What was he doing, letting his guard down, welcoming this girl into his most secret place? What if she told her family about it? What if she told everyone? He cleared his throat.
“Look, thank you for the food, but …”
“Are those books?” she said, scrambling across the nest. In the corner, beneath Caw’s tattered sweater, was his latest stack.
“Yes,” said Caw. “But—”
Lydia took one. “They’re picture books!” she said, grinning.
Caw really wanted her to go now, but he couldn’t think of the right words.
“Why are you reading picture books?” she said. “They’re for little kids.”
Caw felt his blush deepen.
Lydia’s look turned to utter dismay. “Wait – I’m sorry. Did you ever learn to read?”
Caw lowered his gaze and managed a tiny shake of his head.
“Hey, these are library books,” said Lydia. “Did you … steal them?”
“No!” said Caw, glancing up angrily. “I borrowed them.”
“You have a library card?” said Lydia, her eyebrow arching.
“Not exactly,” said Caw. “A woman – a librarian – leaves them outside for me.”
Lydia put the book down. “I could teach you to read,” she said.
Caw didn’t know what to say. Why was she being so nice to him?
“I mean, if you want me to,” she added awkwardly. “Maybe we could go to the library together – pick something to help you learn.”
Caw was about to reply when Milky let out a thin cry. Everyone looked at the white crow.