31
The Rowboat
Tod and Frank heard the key turning in the lock. “Let’s rush him,” said Tod. “We could manage between us.”
“Not from here, mate,” said Frank. “Not up to our knees in water. Best to keep quiet and stick to plan A.”
The door opened and the beam from Nat’s flashlight suddenly flooded the dungeon with light. Tod saw for the first time a wooden rowboat bobbing gently in the water on the far side of the dungeon.
“Enjoying your swim?” asked Nat with a smirk.
He pointed a remote control pad at the boat and pressed a button on the keypad.
“See you guys, later,” he said from the top of the steps. Then he added with a nasty grunt, “Perhaps.”
He slammed the door behind him and locked it, leaving Tod and Frank in darkness again.
“What’s that noise?” asked Tod.
They could both hear the quiet, rhythmic beep pulsing somewhere close by.
“Dunno, mate…” said Frank. “I never heard it before.”
Tod fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his Eppingham Farm key ring. He didn’t have any keys, but he did have a tiny flashlight on it. It wouldn’t have dazzled an ant. But he kept it on and splashed toward the noise.
“It’s coming from the boat,” he said. “Did you know there was a boat here?”
“There’s always a rowboat here,” replied Frank, rather irritably. “Since the beginning of time. But it’s no use if we can’t open the portcullis.”
Tod was standing beside the boat now. “It’s got something in it.”
“What?” This was news to Frank.
“And that’s what the beeping’s coming from.”
“Show me.”
Tod heard Frank wading through the water toward him. He held his flashlight up and pointed the pathetic little beam down into the boat. It was full of plastic bags, packed tightly together and connected with wires. The beeping seemed to grow louder as Tod and Frank bent to read the print on the bags:
HIGH EXPLOSIVE
WARNING!!!
WILL DETONATE ON CONTACT WITH WATER.
“Walloping Wallabies…” muttered Frank.
Tod swallowed hard. The battery on his tiny flashlight gave up and the light went out.
• • •
Avaricia was enjoying herself in the office.
“You are quite right, Mr. Creeply,” she trilled. “Barton’s Billabong is a pathetic little animal sanctuary in the middle of nowhere. But it also happens to be sitting on this.” From her damp pocket, she took a plastic wallet. It contained a map, which she spread on the desk.
“Carbon. Crystallized. You do know what crystallized carbon is?”
“Diamonds?” said a voice from the doorway.
Nat was standing there grinning. At the sight of him, the lamb in the real Alice Barton’s arms bleated loudly. It remembered the kicks Nat had given whenever he’d had a chance. She squirmed from her owner’s arms and fled.
Alice tried to follow but Nat barred her way.
“It’d be rude to leave before Avaricia’s finished talking,” he said nastily. And he quietly closed the door.
Avaricia smiled and smoothed the map she had spread on the table. Shelly recognized it as one of the papers she’d seen Deidre studying at Tickler’s Turnpike. After Deidre had picked the bag’s lock with a bobby pin.
“Everyone knows this whole area is rich in minerals,” said Avaricia. “Mostly too deep to be worth extracting. But I just love diamonds, so when I saw Mr. Creeply’s notice appealing for an heir to this place, I did a bit of digging. In Mr. Creeply’s computer files. Hacking, I think they call it. And guess what? I found this old survey map showing a whole lot of lovely crystallized carbon. So I downloaded it.”
Mr. Creeply was utterly shocked. “You hacked into the confidential files on my computer? Files I hold on behalf of my clients? How dare you!”
“Oh, I dare anything,” replied Avaricia. “Then I had a mineralogist look at the map and he said it was genuine and there’s a ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent chance of finding lovely, lovely diamonds. Right here. And soooo near the surface.”
Ida suddenly stamped her foot. “Never mind your diamonds. Where’s Frank? Where’s my grandson?”
Nat laughed. “We’re coming to that in a minute.”
“Quite,” said Avaricia. “Now, there’s only one way to be absolutely certain about the diamonds.”
It was Nat’s turn again. “So we’re going to blow the whole place up and have a look.”
“Which, as the rightful legal owner,” continued Avaricia, “I now propose to do.” Her face hardened as she turned back to Mr. Creeply. “As soon as you hand over the deeds and I become the rightful owner.”
Mr. Creeply picked up the deed box and clasped it to his chest.
Avaricia smiled. “We do have an insurance policy to ensure you hand them over.”
She held out her hand for the deeds. “It’s called Frank. I believe he’s locked in the dungeon with the explosives.” She glanced at her brother for confirmation.
Nat gave her a nod. “Yeah, he’s still there. And the clock’s ticking. Five minutes.” He grinned nastily. “Oh—and there’s more. The kid’s in there too.”
32
The Countdown
Down in the dungeon, Frank and Tod were in the water, working on the portcullis wheel again. They had scraped it free of rust but still it wouldn’t turn. The beeping was shredding their nerves and they guessed their time was running out.
“Push again…” panted Frank. The wheel shifted a little, then stuck. “And again…”
They pushed, and this time the wheel creaked and ground round almost half a turn. Tod’s arms were aching and his feet were going numb in the cold water.
“Once more, Uncle Frank…” Tod braced himself and pushed with all his strength on the wheel.
“She’s moving!” cried Frank.
Gradually, as they kept on turning the wheel, the portcullis began to rise. But the beeping was getting faster.
In the office immediately above the dungeon, the tension was becoming unbearable.
“Give her the deeds,” the real Alice Barton sobbed. “I don’t want the Billabong. I don’t want any diamonds. Just give her the deeds and let the old man and the boy go.”
Mr. Creeply hesitated. “I c-c-can’t.” he stuttered. “It would be unethical to give away your rightful inheritance under threat.”
“It would be unethical to let my grandson die!” shouted Ida. “Please!”
Mr. Creeply’s hands were shaking. He clutched the deed box tighter to his chest. “I…I don’t know…”
Nat glanced at his watch again, then strode to the desk, leaned across, and grabbed the deed box. “Come on, Avaricia. It’s their funeral. We gave them a chance. Let’s get out before it goes up.”
He turned to the door and grabbed the knob. It came off in his hand.
There was an awful silence.
“Your funeral too, it would appear…” whispered Mr. Creeply .
• • •
In the dungeon, the portcullis was now half open.
“Can you row, Uncle Frank?” panted Tod.
“Never needed to out here in the bush, mate.”
“Then you can push.” Tod grabbed the side of the wooden rowboat and hauled himself carefully up and over the side. He settled himself as far away from explosives as he could and grasped the oars. “OK, Uncle Frank…Push.”
Frank pushed and Tod used the oars to steer the boat toward the open portcullis.
“Steady…steady…” panted Frank. “Don’t get water on it…”
“I’m trying…” muttered Tod as the boat lurched forward and out into the lake. The beeping was getting louder and he could now see a digital timer attached to one of the bags. It was counting down. From one hundred and twenty seconds.
Tod grasped the oars more tightly and started to row more strongly, trying hard not to splash
. “I can’t wait for you, Uncle Frank,” he called. “Swim round. Find Gran. Warn her!”
• • •
Inside the office room, pandemonium had broken out. Avaricia was screaming at Nat, who was trying, with shaking hands, to fix the door handle, and Ida and Shelly were heaving at the bars which covered the small window.
“One minute!” sobbed Nat, on his knees. “One minute!”
“And counting,” said Ida stiffly.
• • •
Alice Barton’s pet lamb was cowering in the shadows just outside the office door. It had fled from the man with the kicking feet into an even worse dilemma. On the other side of the moat, she could see the crazy Brit sheep. She knew she would feel safe in a flock. Even a flock made up of tourists. But there was the problem of the rope bridge between her and them. She didn’t dare step on it.
The warriors were standing in a bemused huddle. They had expected to find Tuftella again somewhere at the bottom of the tower, along with her pale-faced, blond-haired human, but there had been no sign of either. Then Wills suddenly gasped and stared in wonder at something else. A small wooden boat was emerging from right under the tower. An old man was standing waist-deep in the water some way behind it. And sitting in the boat, pulling on the oars, was a boy they all knew well. The boy who brought them cauliflower and cabbage and other nice treats.
“It’s Tod,” cried Wills.
The Merino lamb had also seen the boat, and with it her chance to get away from the tower without stepping on the rope bridge. She emerged from the shadows and teetered on the edge of the stone rim around the tower.
“And Tuftella!” cried Sal.
Tuftella wobbled for a moment, then hurled herself at the rowing boat and landed with a clack on top of the pile of plastic bags.
Tod flinched and stopped rowing for a moment, shoulders tensed, waiting for an explosion, but nothing happened. The beep went on beeping. Tod ignored the lamb that was now standing bleating agitatedly in front of him and rowed as hard as he could. He had to get the boat as far away from the tower as possible. And then he would have to dive overboard and swim for his life.
The warriors saw their Tuftella’s graceful leap and began trotting along the side of the moat after the rowboat.
Forty seconds! Tod dropped the oars and stood up in the boat. He grabbed the lamb by the scruff of her neck and stuffed her down the front of his shirt. He raised his arms above his head and dived in. It was the split second after his feet left the boat that he saw the crocodile.
33
The Final Thunder
The salty hadn’t had a meal for days. Not since a baby wallaby had been foolish enough to step into the creek for a drink. But since then, the local kangaroos and wallabies had learned their lesson and were drinking elsewhere. Hunger, rather than the taste of Oxo’s fleece, had driven it to follow the sheep all the way from the creek.
Now it was waddling swiftly and silently toward the moat. It hesitated for a moment. To one side, it could see the little bunch of sheep. Revenge would make its meal taste sweeter. But on the other hand…a boy and a tender lamb would make a nice snack too. And they would be easier to catch. They were in the water, a salty’s natural home. It scuttled to the edge of the moat and lowered its head toward the water.
“OhmygrassohmygrassohmyTuftella!” Jaycey’s shriek shocked her fellow warriors. Then she shocked them even more by putting her head down and charging at the crocodile. The little horns she was so proud of banged into its scaly hide. The crocodile stopped and turned its head in surprise. Jaycey ran at it again and this time Oxo was with her. His great head whacked into the startled reptile at speed. The long, strong tail lashed furiously but Links was there too now and he caught the very end of it between his teeth. The next moment, he was whipped off his feet as the tail lashed from side to side. But he wouldn’t let go.
Jaycey and Wills leapt on to the thick base of the crocodile’s tail and jumped up and down, digging their sharp little hooves in as hard as they could. And then Sal clambered up to join them and sat down heavily. The crocodile suddenly found it couldn’t move its tail at all. It was really, really angry. Forgetting the boy and the lamb in the water, it reared round to fight off its attackers. But it was difficult to turn completely with all the weight on its tail end and its vicious jaws snapped uselessly on thin air.
Tod thought he must be going mad when he saw the sheep—his and Ida’s sheep—attack a crocodile. He swam fast, quickly reached the side of the moat, and hauled himself out. The lamb wriggled from his shirt and ran, bleating pitifully, toward the warriors. It hadn’t enjoyed its dunking at all.
Tod paused for a moment, gasping for breath. He shook water from his ears and listened. The bleeps were getting faster and faster. Then they stopped.
“Run!” he yelled. “Oxo, Wills…all of you…Run!”
The warriors had no idea why Tod wanted them to run, but Wills sensed the urgency in the boy’s voice. He leapt from the crocodile’s tail. “Come on, guys!” he yelled. “Run!”
Without the weight of three large sheep and two lambs on its tail, the crocodile suddenly found itself slipping forward. Its whole body had just slid under the water when the boat exploded.
KER-BOOOOOOM!
Tod and the sheep turned and gazed at the great fountain of water blasting up into the air from the moat.
“Ohmygrass…!” breathed Jaycey. It was the biggest geyser she’d ever seen.
Tuftella was huddling close to Sal’s side, whimpering.
“Hush, dear,” Sal said soothingly. “You have nothing more to fear. That was the final thunder.”
• • •
Inside the office the sound of the explosion was earsplitting. The walls shook, and the neat piles of paperwork cascaded into a chaotic jumble again. Everyone except Ida instinctively crouched low with their hands over their heads. The rumble of the explosion gradually died away and there was a moment’s complete silence. Then the handle on the outside of the door suddenly rattled and the door burst open.
“Frank!” Ida, who was still trying to prize the bars from the window, almost threw herself across the room at her brother.
Frank strode in and gave her a quick hug. “It’s OK. Tod’s safe. Wet but safe. I saw him. And, Ida, you’re never going to believe this…”
Ida didn’t hear what she would never believe because Deidre had leapt to her feet and was shouting.
“They’re getting away. Stop them!”
Nat and Avaricia had been closest to the door when the blast happened. Now they had slipped past Frank and were out of the tower and already making their way across the rope bridge. Shelly jumped up to give chase, but Ida caught her arm and held her back. “I’ll do this,” she said. She grabbed a paperweight from the desk.
Nat was racing past the animal pens when the heavy glass paperweight whacked him between the shoulder blades and knocked him to the ground.
“Howzat!” yelled Tod from a little way off. “England’ll sign you for the second test, Gran.”
“Nah,” said Uncle Frank, hobbling across the rope bridge. “She’s no good with the bat.”
The others were all out of the tower now and Shelly was chasing after Avaricia, who was running surprisingly quickly. Maybe it was fear of being caught or maybe all her training on Destiny was paying off. She reached the tangerine-orange truck, leapt in, and roared away in a cloud of fumes and dust.
“Holy-moly!” cried Shelly. “You never start that easily for me, Norm. We’re gonna have words about this when I get you back.”
“Don’t worry, dears, she won’t get far.”
Everyone’s attention switched to the new voice.
An elderly, neatly dressed lady, was standing just outside Frank’s house. She held up a key.
“I arrived a few minutes ago. And locked the gate behind me.”
Ida, Frank, and Tod stared. “Rose!”
34
Crazy Brits
While the family were hugging
Rose, Avaricia was trying to drive Norm straight through the locked gate. But he wasn’t having any of that sort of treatment and stalled. With a brief backward glance, Avaricia abandoned the truck and climbed shakily over the gate. She was plodding away into the bush when the police roared into sight. They’d narrowly avoided a rather dazed-looking crocodile putting as many miles as it could between itself and Barton’s Billabong.
The police picked up Avaricia and locked her and Nat in the tower for safekeeping until they’d worked out what had been going on. Over a cup of tea.
Frank’s kitchen had never seen so many people. Rose bustled around smiling and cutting slices from the many delicious cakes she’d brought in her oversized suitcase, and refilling cups.
“Of course, the police didn’t believe me when I phoned from Murkton to say I’d just seen my brother at Barton’s Billabong being whacked on the back of the head and dragged away.”
“Really?” said Shelly, munching cake. “Shame on them.”
“So I caught the first plane out,” continued Rose, “and they had to listen to me when I turned up on their doorstep.”
The policemen exchanged rueful glances. They had indeed had to listen to the angry old English lady who’d marched in and disturbed their peace.
“What are you talking about, Rose?” said Frank. “How did you see Nat bashing me on the head?”
“The webcam,” said Rose a touch smugly. “It was still on in your kitchen. So when I Skyped for a chat, I saw it all.”
“Go, Auntie Rose,” said Tod. “We’ve got a techno wizard in the family.”
Mr. Creeply had retrieved the box of deeds from where Nat dropped them when he was felled by Ida’s paperweight, and was again hugging them to his chest. He stood up, pushed his teacup aside, and solemnly handed the box to Alice Barton. The real Alice Barton.
“Dear lady,” he said in his quiet, thin voice. “I have pleasure in handing you the deeds to Barton’s Billabong. And I’m”—he sniffed back a tear—“I’m so sorry I almost failed in my duty and gave them to the wrong person.”
The Warrior Sheep Down Under Page 13