11
Bungee...!
Sal had realized—a little too late—that the sobbing and sighing wasn’t sobbing and sighing at all. It was the anxious cries of humans, looking up at her from the riverbank far below. But now her world was turned upside down.
Sal’s eyes bulged, her nostrils flared, and a roaring sound filled her ears. Rushing air flattened her fleece and forced her front legs out sideways. She was plunging headfirst toward the river, her hind legs attached to a very long piece of elastic! She could see the river rushing up to meet her, feel the spray thrown up by the nearby rocks. Then, just as suddenly as she had fallen, she felt a tremendous jerk, and the river was rushing away again. She was still head down, suspended from the elastic bungee rope, but now she was shooting back up toward the top of the tower. Minus her sunglasses.
“Ohmygrassohmygrassohmypoorpoorsal…!” sobbed Jaycey, peering down.
The warriors had heard Sal’s cry as she disappeared and were all out on the platform, crowded dangerously close to the edge despite the jumpmaster’s attempts to keep them back. Alice was there too, rooted to the spot, surrounded by sheep. And beginning to feel dizzy.
Sal’s hind legs in their bungee strapping shot past the warriors’ eyes, then, for a brief moment, her face seemed to hover in midair, right next to the platform.
“Hello, dears,” she said. Then she was gone again.
Oxo didn’t think twice. He rarely thought more than once, and certainly not in a situation like this. “Five for one and one for five!” he roared. And he launched himself from the platform.
As rescues went, it didn’t really work.
Oxo’s chest hit the bungee rope and he did his best to grip it between his hind legs. He slid down until his bottom made contact with something hard. It was the stiff plastic cone that protected the strapping around Sal’s hind legs. It made a very uncomfortable seat but stopped Oxo sliding any farther. He hung on tightly as the rest of the warriors landed just above him and slid down onto his broad shoulders. They scrabbled their hooves in each other’s fleeces and wrapped their forelegs around the bungee rope. Jaycey hung on to Links with her teeth. The air whistled up their noses and through their ears as they fell.
“Five for one and one for five!” they shrieked again as they plunged.
The extra weight on the bungee rope made it stretch farther and Sal not only saw the river this time, she felt it too. Sploosh! Her head and shoulders dipped right in. But only for a second.
Boing! The bungee cord had reached the limit of its stretchiness. It went taut, then sprang back, and catapulted its clinging load up toward the top of the tower.
Alice was still there, frozen with fear, balancing giddily on the edge of the platform, clinging to the safety rail with one hand.
“Get away from the edge!” the tense jumpmaster called, trying to reach Alice’s swaying body. “Move back.”
But Alice didn’t hear. As Sal shot past again, the hand that had been holding the safety rail lost its grip and she toppled forward.
The four warriors who had their heads the right way up—Oxo, Links, Jaycey, and Wills—saw Alice’s flailing hand as they plunged past on their way down again. Then they felt the jolt on the rope as she caught hold of it just above their heads.
Alice’s scream was so loud that even Deidre, who was craning out of the hostel dormitory window, trying to see the tower, heard it.
Alice floundered wildly in midair for a second, holding on to the bungee with only one hand. Then her other hand swung round and she grabbed hold with that too. She felt the rope against her legs and clenched it between her knees. She hung on tightly, shrieking loudly as the river rushed up to meet them all again.
Wills had managed to glance up. “It’s the fairy godtingy!” he called down to the others. “Maybe she’s come to—”
He didn’t finish. With even more weight on it, the elastic rope was stretching even farther. Sal gulped and closed her eyes, ready to be dunked headfirst again. Then her attention switched from her head to her hooves. Her hind legs were slipping from their strapping. It was designed for humans with feet that stick out like bars at the end of their legs, but Sal was a sheep with skinny ankles and little hooves. And they were sliding out. She realized she was in for more than a dunking this time. Just a few yards above the river, her hooves slid free of the bungee and she hit the water with a wallop, sinking like a stone.
Boing! Boing! Boing! Without Sal’s weight, the bungee flicked up, then down, then whipped from side to side. The rest of the warriors were flung off and, bleating with terror, landed in the river in a volley of splashes.
The bungee rope shot skyward again, with Alice still clinging desperately to it.
“Ohmysalohmysalohmysal…” gabbled Jaycey, paddling hard to keep her head above water. Then Sal’s head burst from beneath the surface, right next to her.
“No need to panic, dear,” she gasped, blowing water from her nostrils and shaking droplets from her eyes. “All is well…”
“One for five and five for a swim…” yelled Oxo, and he turned toward the riverbank.
Way above their heads, Alice was clinging on to the bungee for dear life. But only with her hands now. Her knees had slipped and her legs were thrusting up and down like a frog’s as she tried to regain her grip. She had stopped shrieking but her mouth was still fixed wide open in silent horror.
And then it was over. A second later there was a final shriek as Alice too lost her grip on the bungee rope and she belly flopped into the water with a whoomph!
On the riverbank, Shelly and a small group of bystanders had been staring in shock, their eyes switching rapidly between Alice and the sheep. Now, they watched as a rescue boat zoomed from the shore and fished Alice out of the water.
She lay gasping and flapping in the bottom, like a fish that had just been hooked.
“No room for the animals,” the helmsman shouted to his mate. “We’ll have to come back for them.”
The warriors weren’t making any headway in their attempts to swim for the riverbank. The current was too strong.
“Best to stop paddling,” panted Wills. “Just go with the flow…”
They were swirled out into the center of the wide river and then across toward the far bank, opposite the tower. The current whizzed them along downstream, faster and faster. Some concerned backpackers broke away from the little knot of people beside the tower and ran along the riverbank trying to keep up with them. But human legs were no match for the racing current and one by one they gave up.
• • •
Alice stumbled out of the rescue boat, dripping wet and shaken and sure she was gong to be asked some very awkward questions. She flipped her wet hair out of her eyes and saw the jumpmaster and her assistant and several other official-looking people striding toward her. Alice quickly decided to play dumb. It didn’t come easily.
The jumpmaster didn’t ask Alice if she was hurt. She merely demanded, “Can I see your ID, ma’am?”
“I’m sorry?” said Alice, with what she hoped was a dazed smile.
“Your identification. I don’t believe you’re Almost Human. You lied to me!”
“Lied to you…?” Alice swayed. “When?” She put her hand to the back of her head and winced. “Oh dear…My head is so painful. I think I must have banged it in the elevator…” She swayed a little more.
“Yeah, right…” The jumpmaster put her face close to Alice’s. “Lady, I want to know what you’re up to!”
Alice kept up the swaying. “I remember some sheep—in the elevator. They rushed in and squashed me flat against the back…” She closed her eyes and began to pant. “And then…and then…” She looked down at her clothes. “Why am I soaking wet? Ohh…” She sank to the ground in an elegant swoon.
The jumpmaster and the other bungee staff looked down at her.
“Concussion?” asked one.
“If she’s concussed, I’m a kiwi,” said the jumpmaster. She looked from Alice t
o the small crowd of people gathering round. “Anyone know who she is?”
Shelly was squeezing through. “Name’s Alice Barton. I picked her up in Auckland this morning. And this is her assistant.”
A breathless Deidre had just arrived. “Miss Barton, Miss Barton, are you all right?”
She dropped to her knees beside Alice. “Oh, Miss Barton, what happened?”
“Chaos happened,” said the jumpmaster through clenched teeth. “Mayhem. Attempted sheepicide!”
“Sheepicide?” Deidre looked up, startled.
One of the backpackers who’d run along the riverbank, trying to keep up with the warriors, was racing back now toward the little crowd around Alice. “They got out about half a mile down on the other side,” he gasped. “I saw them. All five!”
Alice’s mouth twitched when she heard this, but by biting her tongue she managed to remain silent and motionless.
“Oh, thank goodness for that,” said Deidre, though she didn’t have a clue what was going on.
“Well, there you go,” said Shelly briskly to the jumpmaster. “No harm done. Let’s leave it, shall we?
She squatted and put her hands under Alice’s armpits. “Take her feet, Deidre,” she said.
Deidre did as she was told, and between them they carried the dripping woman back to the hostel. Shelly explained briefly what had happened. Or what she’d seen of it anyway.
“I did try to tell her the outfit was a bad idea,” she puffed, nodding at Alice’s ruined clothes.
When they reached the hostel, they hauled Alice up to the second floor, not too worried about her bottom bumping on each step as they climbed. Alice felt every jolt and heard every word, but she gritted her teeth and remained limp and silent.
“Dump her on the floor,” said Shelly, dropping Alice’s top end. “I’m not hoisting her up to the top bunk.”
Once Alice was certain that the jumpmaster hadn’t followed, she opened her eyes. “Where am I…?” she asked faintly.
Her performance was worthy of an Oscar. Even the doctor that Shelly called thought it was possible that a bang on the head had made her forget the last few hours. He suggested she rest for a while. Alice clambered onto the top bunk and sat propped against the pillows—Deidre’s as well as her own—looking pale and weak.
“I’m going down to the kitchen to knock up something to eat,” said Shelly, once the doctor had gone. “You want me to bring you a burger?”
Alice wrinkled her nose. “Is that the best you have?” she asked, her normal tone of voice returning.
“Yep. And I don’t usually do room service,” said Shelly, giving her a sharp look. “Take it or leave it.”
Alice shrugged. “OK,” she said as if she were doing Shelly a favor. “And Deidre, poppet, go and find my photograph. It should be ready by now.”
“Yes, Miss Barton.”
Deidre trotted off to the hut near the tower, the one where Alice had been weighed. There was a display board outside covered with photos. A camera, fixed on a pole beside the river, automatically took shots of everybody the moment they jumped. All the photos were displayed on the board. Deidre scanned the rows of pictures, then stopped. She clamped her hand over her mouth, regained control, paid for the photo, and took it back to the dorm.
“I’m sorry, Miss Barton,” she said as she handed it over. “It isn’t very, um, flattering…”
Alice glanced at the photograph, then at Deidre, who was squeaking quietly as she struggled to keep a straight face.
“Of course,” said Deidre, trying to find something nice to say, “nobody looks their absolute best upside down with their mouth wide open and their knees behind their ears…” she tailed off as the laughter bubbled out.
“Deidre, poppet,” said Alice quietly. “Shut up.” Her pride was hurt but she was also relieved. She had proof that she had jumped. “Get this emailed to Mr. Creeply. And find out what I have to do next.”
The door burst open and Shelly appeared with a tray full of burgers and chips. “Grub up.” She grinned and handed a plate of food to Alice. “Don’t drop any on your nice white trousers.”
“I’m glad you’re so easily amused,” said Alice, but she took the plate. She was suddenly starving. She was still eating her burger when Deidre looked up from the laptop.
“Mr. Creeply’s got the photo,” said Deidre. “And accepted it as proof.” She paused. “Um, Shelly? D’you happen to know anything about…Tickler’s Turnpike?”
“Tickler’s Turnpike?” Shelly laughed. “Heck, yes. Now that will make your eyes water!”
12
Rose’s Ruse
The warriors had followed Wills’s advice and “gone with the flow.” The banks on either side of the river seemed to flash past in a blur of green, and soon they were a long way downstream from the bungee tower.
“Ohmygrassohmygrassohmypoorpoorhooves…” Jaycey had wailed as she was swept through a series of small, shallow rapids and her dainty hooves scraped the rocks beneath.
A bit farther on, the river began to narrow and the current raced still faster.
“Forget the flow,” Oxo had gurgled, trying to talk without getting his mouth full of water. “Swim!” He turned and paddled as hard as he could.
He had spotted a small bay that had been gouged into the nearest riverbank, and seen that the water in the bay was moving more slowly. He’d also seen that Wills and Jaycey were almost exhausted. He paddled harder and harder, then suddenly felt himself being swirled sideways, out of the current, and into the shallow water of the little bay. Sal was swirled in next, then Links. But Wills and Jaycey were too small and too weak to cross the current. It swept them on, past the little bay, toward the next line of rapids.
“Keep paddling!” Oxo shouted to them, then he threw himself back into the current and surged out to the struggling youngsters. He opened his mouth and picked Wills up by the neck, in the way a cat picks up a kitten. “Got goo,” he grunted through clenched teeth.
Jaycey used her own teeth to hang on to Oxo’s tail and he turned and paddled for the bay. Strong though Oxo was, he couldn’t have managed if Links hadn’t plunged in to help. Between them, they shoved and dragged the exhausted young sheep until the current suddenly released them all and they were able to stagger onto the beach.
“This way, dears,” called Sal from the top of a short, concrete slope. “I think we could all do with a nice rest.”
The slope was a slipway in front of a wooden boathouse. A few rubber rafts had been pulled clear of the water and were tied to metal rings fixed into the slope. Outside the boathouse, there was a rack, neatly stacked with kayaks, and another stacked with paddles. The boathouse door was locked. It was getting late and the humans who worked there had gone home. Only a lone backpacker on the other side of the river saw the bedraggled group of sheep emerge from the water. He whooped with relief, turned, and raced back the way he’d come, back toward the bungee tower to pass on the good news.
The warriors made their way around the side of the boathouse to the grassy bank behind it, led by Oxo’s nose.
“All that going with the flow makes you hungry,” he said, ripping up a mouthful of grass.
Sal sat down heavily. “Possibly, dear,” she said. “But my stomachs don’t know which way up they are. I’ll just sit and think.”
Jaycey and Wills sank to the ground close to Sal, their sides still heaving, their wet fleeces plastered flat against their small bodies.
“Wills, man,” said Links. “You is real skinny.”
Wills didn’t answer. He was already fast asleep. Exhausted.
Jaycey’s eyes had also closed.
The older sheep munched on, but for only a short while before they too settled down to dream of barns and home…and maidens in distress.
• • •
It was getting on toward bedtime in Australia too, but Tod and Ida were wide awake and thinking of their little flock of rare breed sheep. In fact, they were getting more and more worried ab
out them.
“Is it too early to Skype Auntie Rose?” Tod asked, looking at the clock on Uncle Frank’s kitchen wall.
“Well, if it’s supper time here in Australia, then it’s breakfast time in England,” said Ida. “And no, that’s not too early.” She sipped her cocoa. “Tod, why am I drinking this? The weather’s far too hot for cocoa.”
“Because it’s good for you, Gran,” said Tod. “You need milk to make you grow big and strong. Here, have a dollop of ice cream to cool it down.”
He plopped a scoop of ice cream into his gran’s mug of cocoa. “Can we borrow your laptop again, please, Uncle Frank?” he asked.
Frank slid it across the table. “I’m one step ahead of you. There’s Rose now. Looking fresh as a dandelion.”
Rose wasn’t feeling as fresh as a dandelion, or a daisy or any other sort of flower. She wasn’t feeling fresh at all. She hadn’t had a good night’s sleep for ages. Not since Ida’s sheep had disappeared without trace from her field by the sea.
She had stopped worrying that they’d fallen into the harbor and drowned. Their bodies would have been found by now. But that was small comfort. Where were they?
The hardest part was knowing what to say to Ida and Tod when they rang and it was even worse when she used the webcam, like she was doing now, so they could see her as well as speak.
“Hello, Tod. Hello, Frank. Hello, Ida,” she shouted at her laptop as soon as she saw them all on her screen. The microphone picked up her voice, and thousands of miles away in Australia, it boomed out of the laptop in her brother Frank’s kitchen.
“Hello, Rose,” Ida shouted back. “How are you?”
“Fine. Just fine.” Rose’s voice rattled the clock on Frank’s kitchen wall.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” said Frank. “This technology malarkey.”
“Brilliant,” agreed Tod. “Deafening too.”
“How are our sheep?” Ida was shouting. “Are you going to let us see them at last?”
“Yes,” lied Rose. “I’m taking the laptop out into the field right now.” She did so, carefully, and put it down with the web camera facing the fence. “There you are. Can you see them?”
The Warrior Sheep Down Under Page 5