The Moon Stealers Box Set. Books 1-4 (Fantasy Dystopian Books for Teenagers)

by Tim Flanagan

  They travelled for what he thought was nearly an hour, although being in such an uncomfortable position made it feel like twice that length of time. The constant rocking and bouncing of the lorry made the tape feel tighter as well as sharper, like a wire cutting into the soft flesh of his wrists. He had tried on several occasions to loosen the tape, but it was hopeless. However, by pushing saliva through his lips and softening the adhesive of the tape around his mouth he had managed to loosen the tape so that he could suck it within his lips and start nibbling at it with his front teeth. After a lot of work, and with an aching jaw and tongue, Steven had managed to create a small hole that allowed the cool air to blow into his mouth. Encouraged by this small progress, he continued to eagerly bite at the tape in front of his mouth. Once he had exposed his mouth, he might be able to bite at the bonds that held Tracker or Georgia's wrists to the arms of their chairs and free them.

  But, Steven wasn’t given any longer to work at his plan. He became aware that the lorry was slowing down. After driving over the smooth surface of a road, he was jolted up as the lorry mounted something and drove across an uneven surface. There was an ominous dry squeal from the brakes followed by a shake as the lorry came to a stand still. Steven held his breath in the darkness, his ears straining for sounds that might give him clues as to where they were.

  He didn’t have to wait long.

  The back of the lorry opened and the two guards pulled the legs of Steven's chair to the rear edge of the lorry. They then pivoted the chair until it was upright. Steven was sitting on a patch of grass looking down a slope towards the recognisable white building of the National Maritime Museum on the bank of the Thames. Beyond that the tall skyscrapers of the London skyline reached up and touched the low folding grey clouds. Greenwich Park was deserted, the few people that may have survived the attacks by the creatures were still fearful to leave their homes, especially as night was approaching.

  Tracker and Georgia were pulled from the lorry and placed next to Steven.

  'The American specifically requested you visit the park so that you had a clear view of London,' explained one of the guards, who now stood in front of them. 'You have the best seats in the house.'

  'The only seats in the house!' laughed the other guard.

  'You should be able to see the creatures coming across the city.' The first guard checked his wristwatch. 'Shouldn't have too long to wait either,' he laughed.

  Georgia began panting heavily through her nostrils, a look of terror in her eyes. She realised what their fate was to be - left outside as night approached, food for the creatures with no way of defending themselves or finding cover.

  'It's a pity we can't take this one,' sneered one of the guards as he stroked the side of Georgia's face. 'Such a shame.'

  'Please,' muttered Steven through the hole he had managed to create in the tape across his mouth. 'Don't leave us here. The American knows more about the creatures than we do. He's only interested in money and control.'

  The guards turned towards Steven, surprised to hear a voice other than their own.

  'He's got some of the tape off his mouth.'

  'It won't help though,' replied the other guard.

  Steven's plea for help was answered by the fist of the first guard as it struck him across the side of his face with such force that it knocked him to the ground, together with the chair.

  'If it wasn't for The American, loads of us would have died,' the guard said.

  Steven could feel warm blood spreading slowly down the outside of his face.

  'Enjoy the view,' laughed the guards as they climbed back into the lorry, slammed the doors and drove away.

  Within seconds they were alone, on top of a green slope watching the gradually darkening sky and waiting for the first sign of a creature to arrive, together with the end.

  22. A Bitter Snack

  Clouds developed above their heads as late afternoon progressed quickly into evening. Soon the clouds would not be distinguishable from the dark sky, but by then they would probably have been eaten by the creatures. Steven could still hear Georgia's erratic breathing, but from where he had been overturned onto the grass, he couldn't actually see her. Occasionally, a muted whimper would come from inside her mouth. So far, Tracker had been silent. Steven waited, resting his head against the soft, cold grass, giving the throbbing time to subside. He then continued to work at the tape around his mouth until it became nothing more than a loose flap that lifted in the breeze. As he worked at the tape with his tongue and teeth, his eyes watched the distant sky that stretched out above London. Every black dot or distorted shape he saw he examined to see it was a creatures coming out for the night.

  Suddenly his view became blocked.

  Something had landed heavily on the grass in front of him. He took a sharp intake of breath. His first thought was that a creature had already found them, but then he began to recognise what had positioned itself on the grass - it was Tracker. He had managed to rock the chair he was bound to until it became unstable and fell over next to Steven. Unable to talk, Tracker looked at Steven, and then stared at the tape that bound his wrists to the arms of the chair.

  'You want me to start biting?' Steven said to Tracker, understanding what he wanted.

  Both Steven and Tracker then began moving their chairs nearer to each other so Tracker's bonds were within reach of Steven. With a combination of shuffling and pushing with the toe of their shoes, they both managed to get closer, until Steven could stretch his neck and just about reach the tape around the arm of Tracker's chair. He knew that he wouldn't need to bite his way through all of the tape. Once the initial cuts had been made, Tracker should be able to use the strength in his arm to rip the tape free from the chair. But they didn't have much time. By mentally comparing the timings that the creatures had been coming out the previous two nights, Steven knew they were getting earlier and earlier. Time was limited.

  The trees that bordered the grassy hill seemed to pause into silence. The breeze that had created a gentle hiss as it filtered through the branches died down. The air began to smell different - heavy and thicker like a liquid with a metallic taste. The birds that had begun to bravely emerge during the day, once more fell silent, anticipating what was coming. The three spectators on the hill felt something too, an indescribable feeling of change. They stopped what they were doing and looked long and hard towards the horizon. Even though every fibre of their bodies desperately hoped not to see anything, they couldn't resist looking into the ever darkening sky. But, the sky was dead and lifeless, the grey had given way to inky patches that leeched through, turning it darker in twisted coils of cloud.

  Steven pulled his eyes away from the sky and continued to gnaw at the plastic tape that still bound Tracker to his chair. It was difficult for him to concentrate, especially as he knew the creatures would soon be with them. But, unless he managed to get Tracker's hand free, they were just sitting there waiting to be eaten.

  In the distance a sound made them all hold their breath.

  There was a faint noise, almost like the cry of a fox in an empty wood. Immediately they froze, half wondering whether they had heard the sound or not, but their doubts were quickly answered by another scream, this time closer and clearer than the first. It still sounded like it was some distance away so Steven began frantically biting at the tape once again. He could also feel Tracker desperately trying to pull his arm away from the chair and break his bonds.

  Another scream cut through the air which was answered by another somewhere towards the opposite side of the Thames. Tracker heard it too. He pulled up hard with his arm, his body shaking with the effort. From the area that Steven had been working, the tape slowly began to stretch and tear until, in a rush of movement, Tracker's arm sprang free. He quickly pulled the tape from around his mouth then began working on his other arm.

  Their initial excitement was quickly dampened by the noise that was coming from Georgia's throat. She was trying to scream, or at least
get their attention, but all she could manage was a muted sound that pushed its way out of her nostrils. Her eyes were wide with fear as she watched shadows moving from amongst the undergrowth at the foot of the hill they were on, pulling themselves along the ground awkwardly, like bats trying desperately to walk, using the claws on their wings as hands. They stalked along the ground, approaching their prey. The sky was hidden by a number of black flapping shapes that circled above them, an occasional white eye would cast a glance at them, curiously wondering why they were not running before gracefully landing on the grass like a gymnast dismounting a bar. Tracker was still desperately trying to pick the tape free from his other arm, but Steven, unable to do anything except sit patiently on his chair and wait, knew that they could not escape.

  Their time had run out.

  Steven looked across at Georgia, her eyes bulging with fear as she watched the creatures approaching her. She looked over towards Steven. She focussed on nothing else but the colour of Steven's sad eyes and the warm feeling it created in her chest. She was calmer as the creature nearest to her positioned its slimy mouth around her arm and sank its teeth into the flesh as easily as a hot knife through butter. Confused, Georgia glanced down at the black leathery head as it pulled away from her arm, a stringy tendon snapping away from the red bloody mess that had once been her upper arm. The realisation of what had happened then overwhelmed her and her head rolled limply into unconsciousness. A tear welled in the corner of Steven's eye as he watched the other creatures fighting over the morsel of flesh that had once been part of Georgia's perfect body. Other creatures approached Steven and Tracker, who had now given up struggling with the tape, knowing it was too late.

  The screeching and squabbling continued beside Georgia, but then something unusual happened. The creature that had taken the first bite began to bark from its mouth and lurch forward. Confused by its behaviour, the other creatures watched its body contract and convulse in waves as it tried to force the contents of its stomach back up. The creature fell to the floor, arms flapping in a frenzy as it rolled and twisted upon the grass. The other creatures that had also fought for some of Georgia's flesh had also now begun to bark as they attempted to empty their stomachs too.

  'They're trying to be sick,' muttered Steven to himself as much as to Tracker.

  'Why?' answered Tracker.

  'Not every animal has the ability to be sick like we do. If we eat something that is rotten, our body recognises it and pushes it out.'

  'But why would they want to be sick? We've seen them eat humans loads of times, why would Georgia be different?' asked Tracker.

  'Maybe it's the antibiotics. If the creatures are basically the same as the bacteria, then it's possible that the antibiotics could affect them too. But there wouldn't be high enough quantities in Georgia's bloodstream to kill it, just make it ill.'

  Georgia's body remained lifeless in the chair, blood now soaked one side of her body and had begun to stain the grass beneath her chair a dark red. The creatures instinctively avoided Georgia and any contact with her blood so turned back towards Steven and Tracker. They moved more cautiously around the two fallen chairs.

  'Keep working at the tape,' whispered Steven. 'But no sudden movements.'

  One creature brought its head up so close to Steven that he could see every minute crease and fold in its skin. Up close it appeared to be a mixture of dark blues and purples that changed as the limited light reflected off it. There were a series of pin prick holes dotted all over the skin which Steven assumed the creature used to absorb the nitrogen it needed from the air to survive, as well as possibly being ducts like sweat glands that released the corrosive acid he had witnessed. The eye was large in proportion to its body and had a glassy appearance like highly polished marble. The creature's face was so close to Steven that he could smell the decay and staleness that oozed from its body. Instead of attacking Steven, it seemed to be interested in the blood on his cheek where the guard had struck him. From its mouth a short purple tongue slipped out and rubbed against Steven's cheek then pulled back. None of the other creatures approached; it was almost as though they were waiting to see what happened to the one that had tested Steven's blood. Within seconds, pools of slimy ooze began dribbling from the creature's mouth, its body attempting to wash out the blood from its mouth. The group of creatures now started to thin as some began flying off in search of easier, less toxic pray than the humans in Greenwich Park. Those that remained continued to bark and shake as the antibiotic affected their bodies.

  Tracker wrenched his other arm free of the chair whilst Steven looked helplessly at Georgia's body, slumped in the chair losing more and more blood with every passing second.

  23. A Race Against Time

  The creatures of the night didn’t show any interest in them after that. Some curiously approached, but one sniff of Georgia's blood turned them away. Steven didn’t know if they communicated with each other, or whether there was some sort of primitive instinct or sense that made the creatures avoid them, but whatever the reason, he was glad. After freeing himself, Tracker removed Steven's bonds, then they both approached Georgia, not knowing if she was alive or not.

  'Have you got a belt?' Steven asked Tracker. He was thinking quickly of a way of stopping the bleeding in Georgia's arm. The blood was running freely, soaking her clothes and pooling beneath the legs of the chair.

  'No,' Tracker shook his head. 'Would one of my shoe laces be any good?'

  Steven nodded. He placed a hand tenderly onto Georgia's neck.

  'I can feel a faint pulse.'

  Tracker passed one of his boot laces to Steven, who then began threading it beneath Georgia's armpit and pulling it tight before knotting it. Quickly they both began removing the tape that bound Georgia to the chair but the blood made their fingers slip on the rubber coating, making progress difficult. Once her injured arm was free, Steven lifted it up above her head and gradually the blood flow began to slow. Tracker continued working on the rest of the tape until Georgia was free. They then used the chair as a stretcher to carry her towards some cars that had been abandoned alongside the Royal Observatory. Gently they put the chair upright once again onto the hard tarmac of the road. Tracker then ran up and down checking each car until he found one that still had the keys in it. He jumped in and turned the engine on. The car, which originally had a smooth polished roof, now appeared to have one corner wrenched up like a hastily opened tin of baked beans. As Tracker drove the car back towards Steven, the detached roof fluttered rhythmically as air flowed beneath it, releasing a metallic, hollow sound into the night.

  Tracker jumped out and between the two of them they lifted Georgia into the back of the car. Steven then ripped off a loose piece of Georgia's top that was soaked in blood and began wiping it around the outside of the car.

  'What's that for?' Tracker asked.

  'The creatures here know that if they eat us we will make them ill. But, as soon as we leave this area we will meet many other creatures who won't know. Hopefully they will smell the blood before trying to eat us and realise that we are past our sell by date.'

  Once Steven had finished, the car was streaked with dark red lines, like a child's amateur painting. They got in and, in a squeal of tyre rubber, Tracker spun the car round so they were facing the long straight road that would take them out of Greenwich Park.

  'Where's the nearest hospital?' he asked Steven.

  'The main hospitals are in the city, but there's a private hospital in Blackheath. It's not far from here.'

  The car whistled along the road as the air split on the jagged piece of metal that was once the roof. With some urgency Tracker continued to accelerate as the car rocketed between the ancient stone gatehouse, beyond the park walls and onto the main road.

  'Just keep going straight ahead,' shouted Steven over the noise of the car.

  Tracker put his foot down harder on the accelerator, mounted the pavement and tore across open grass fields heading towards a more bui
lt up area. Driving on the fields was a lot easier than staying on the roads; there were a lot less obstacles to avoid.

  Above them, creatures circled in the sky. Black shadows that watched from afar, curious, but cautious. Occasionally, an adventurous creature would peel away from the flock and dive towards the car then swoop back into the air at the last minute. But mainly they watched from a safe distance.

  'Towards that church.' Steven pointed to the steeple he could see ahead of them. The car skidded on the soft grass as it leapt over a rise on the field and narrowly avoided a lamppost.

  They rejoined a road that swept around the church and followed it towards the town. Cars once again littered the sides of the road. A small row of shops on the right showed signs of looting, the large sheet of glass that made up a restaurant window still had the wooden frame of a chair embedded in it where survivors had either broken in to gather food or to escape the creatures. The pavement around a clothing shop was littered with headless mannequins that rolled in the night breeze, their naked plastic bodies disjointed and helpless.

  'Follow the shops,' instructed Steven as Tracker turned the car into another road. Knowing that time was limited, Tracker casually knocked against the sides of cars that were sticking out at angles to prevent them from slowing him down.

  The road turned left and began to go up a slight incline. At the top it divided. Steven indicated the right hand exit with his hand which took them along a wider residential road.

  'It's just on the left,' Steven told Tracker, who had already spotted the sign. The car spun through a gap in a white-washed wall and entered the hospital grounds. On the right was a large white building, whilst on the left, beneath a black and white fronted part of the hospital, they spotted the columned entrance. Tracker slid the car to a standstill. They both jumped out and began taking Georgia out from the back.