Connor Clover and the Lost Children (Book 1)

by Helen Oghenegweke

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The Rock Dwellers

  They fell weightless inside their bubbles. Connor’s comfort came from knowing Tookar and Sparkie were falling in the pit with him. It happened so fast. As he neared the ground the bubble continued to spin but Connor flipped onto his back.

  His bubble slammed into the ground, rippling and shuddering lightly from the pressure before it popped with a squelchy sound. His back collided heavily on to the rocks from where he’d previously been floating three feet in the air. He tilted his head forward, to avoid banging it, allowing his back to absorb the majority of the impact. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but more of a survival instinct. He hurt but apart from serious bruising, nothing had broken. Now his shield had been destroyed, he lay for several seconds waiting to die – expecting a shadow to blanket his eyes. Inhaling a last breath, Connor looked upward. Death hadn’t claimed him and he was still alive. The shields had been unnecessary.

  Connor lay in shock, but not for long. A commotion a short distance from him, caused him to raise his head. Groaning uncomfortably, he lifted his upper body and rested on his elbows in time to see Tookar unconscious and being lifted away by little grey men, who wore nothing but loincloths. They carried him into a darkened doorway inside the rocks.

  Connor panicked. The little grey men, with their massive black eyes and wrinkly skin, were the same intruders he’d fought in his bedroom, when they’d sliced his skin with their sharp daggers. They were short compared to him, standing at five feet in height and stooping gently. They were gentle with Tookar and carried him away carefully as if he were a prized possession.

  ‘No!’ Connor yelled, drawing unwanted attention.

  Another gang of wrinkly men eyed him curiously. They scrambled towards him with crooked knees. Wincing with pain, Connor staggered to his feet. Tugging the gun from the waistband in his jeans, he armed himself. The adrenaline surged through his body putting his pain on hold.

  He walked backwards until his body slammed against the steep wall enclosure. The little bald men approached him cautiously, wobbling their long noses.

  ‘Come any closer and I’ll shoot!’ he threatened.

  Strangely, they didn’t appear too harmful until Connor waved the gun at them, then their expressions transformed into sneers. The little creatures were confused and communicated to one another in a gabbling alien language, creating an annoying grunting sound. With suspicious faces they surrounded Connor, pulling the familiar shiny daggers from their belts and pointing them at him.

  ‘What do you want with us?’ he shouted. ‘Where have you taken my friend?’

  They spoke. One of them came closer, poking Connor in the chest with the sharp tip of his blade. Connor knocked it away with the gun and fired. The grey creature fell instantly and a second later it disappeared into dust.

  They stopped talking and watched him nervously. In a frantic response, they scrambled away to distance themselves from Connor. On the other side of a rock came a faint whimper. The rock dwellers cocked their heads at the sound and spied Sparkie emerging. The little grey men danced excitedly, temporarily forgetting Connor.

  ‘Ow!’ Sparkie groaned, glancing towards Connor. Whatever else he wanted to say say died on his lips when he caught a glimpse of the strange little men. He shook his head in fear as the creatures turned their attention to him.

  The little grey creatures ran towards Sparkie, lifted and carried him through the same doorway into which Tookar had disappeared minutes earlier.

  ‘No!’ Sparkie screamed.

  Connor ran after them as they passed through the door. He fired his gun and shot another two creatures. He didn’t dare shoot the others surrounding Sparkie, in case he missed.

  As the last creature disappeared, the doorway immediately vanished. The opening inside the hard stone had once more become solid rock. The red stone shone and in some areas sharp as glass. Connor stroked it and sliced the tip of his finger, blood pouring freely from the wound.

  ‘Ouch! What the –?’ he mumbled. ‘Sparkie! Tookar! Can you hear me?’ He thumped the hard stone with his fists. Questions of why he’d been left alone confused him. Why didn’t they want him too? He ought to be glad they rejected him. ‘Give me my friends back! Let them go!’ he screamed. ‘Let me in!’

  He stood alone in the empty pit, screaming for Kia, until his voice turned hoarse. But she didn’t come. What should he do next? He paced the edge of the pit, circling it until he grew in frustration and anger. He kicked the loose rocks beneath his feet, stubbing his toes on an extra large one.

  ‘Ouch!’ he cried, hopping on the spot.

  He stared hopelessly at the stars. He wasn’t afraid to scale a fifty-foot wall but this one appeared impossible. He held his finger tightly, trying to stop the flow of blood. This wall, spiked with rock able to slice his skin like the sharpest blade, trapped him.

  He kicked at the ground again in frustration. Something cracked beneath his foot. He jumped backwards in surprise as something white flashed on the ground. He bent to examine it, lifting it and acknowledging the smoothness along its length. In a fright, he gasped and released it, a lump forming in his mouth.

  In shock, he trembled, for the spot where he stood was covered in bones. Human remains lay strewn on the ground. Connor had stepped on a long bone with nodules at each end, roughly the size of a thighbone, snapping the demur clean in half.

  His stomach tightened. Why hadn’t he noticed them before?

  ‘Oh, no!’ he gasped, afraid to move in case he stepped on more. His eyes scanned the area, lit by the moon revealing so many strewn on the ground.

  ‘It’s not safe,’ a small voice whispered.

  Connor spun round, losing his balance. His heart pounded with adrenaline but he had nowhere to run and nowhere to hide or escape. He hadn’t sensed anyone approaching. Had the person walked straight through the wall?

  ‘Keep away… f … from me!’ Connor stammered. ‘Keep away!’

  ‘Shhh!’ whispered the boy. ‘They’ll hear us. You should go now. It’s not safe.’

  The young boy appeared nervous, so wiry and thin his ribs protruded from his skin. He appeared no more threatening than a wilting daffodil. His eyes however, though wide and scared, clearly held strength and shone an amazing colour blue. His nose wasn’t huge and wobbly but small in comparison to the other rock dwellers.

  ‘Who are you?’ Connor stepped back to avoid standing on more bones.

  The boy had a smooth head and kind eyes. ‘I’m a rock dweller. Come, you must leave now!’

  ‘Not without my friends.’

  ‘No time to argue. Your friend Sparkie has already called for assistance. He wanted me to help you. Your friends are alive but you must go quickly. You are their last hope of escaping, but if you’re caught their hopes will be dashed.’

  ‘You know Sparkie?’

  ‘Yes. He and the other man have been taken to a cell on level three. I’ve been speaking to him. Now escape while you can. I don’t want you trapped. You’re a boy and I won’t help my people capture you.’ The boy’s face saddened. ‘I have to be cleansed tomorrow. My time has come. My fate is sealed but yours isn’t – you can still leave. Go now, while you still have the chance. You can’t fight the rock dwellers alone.’

  ‘But my friends!’ whispered Connor, but his words died on his lips as the boy touched the stone, which shifted to form a ladder up the wall.

  ‘Th-thanks,’ stammered Connor, staring at the boy in awe. ‘Thanks for helping me. Are you sure you can’t help my friends?’

  ‘I’ll doing what I can.’ Clearly agitated, he glanced in all directions. He pointed upward, ‘Go!’

  Connor wasted no more time. Forcing his legs to move, he slowly climbed as the boy vanished through the rock.

  With sheer determination and strength Connor made it halfway up the steep wall.

  He paused. His arm muscles ached, but he’d reach the summit, if it was the last thing he did.

  B
ut a commotion below startled him. The bottom of the pit was moving with angry rock dwellers swarming the area below and screaming at him in their strange language. Once he reached ten feet from the top, a thick rope fell beside him with a loop in the end.

  ‘Put your foot in the loop and I’ll pull you,’ a gruff male voice called. ‘Hurry!’

  Connor had no idea whom the voice belonged to. But with nowhere to run, he had little choice but to trust it. Still holding on to the stone ladder, he nervously placed his foot inside the loop. He grasped the rope and prayed whoever held the other end wouldn’t deliberately let go of it.

  The rock dwellers below placed their palms on to the rock face and the ladder immediately vanished. Connor clutched the rope for dear life, praying he wasn’t going to be released to the hungry mob below.

  But whoever held the rope continued to heave him up. Once hoisted to safety, he collapsed to the ground, exhausted and confused.

  ‘My friends!’ he cried. ‘I must help them!’

  His saviour didn’t speak. Instead he walked towards the edge of the cliff and fired. Many rock dwellers were scaling the rock surface like spiders, but with a single shot they fell and died. The others on the ground scattered, vanishing through the walls.

  The stranger touched Connor’s shoulder and as he did so, the boy became engulfed with the strangest sensation. Like a fire extinguisher calming a roaring fire, he felt calm. His saviour communicated to his body, warming and reassuring him. For the first time since he’d arrived on the planet, Connor felt safe.

  He lifted his head as a huge beast knelt on the ground beside him, with a length of rope slung across its shoulder. Its body, covered in a short layer of soft brown fur, thinned on its face. Metal armour clung to its body, gleaming in the moonlight as if it were a mirror. Wearing black leather trousers with massive black boots it appeared strangely human.

  ‘You!’ gasped Connor. ‘I know you!’ Reawakened memories came to the surface of his mind. He knew this beast in front of him, but the person he’d remembered as a hairy-faced man wasn’t human.

  ‘I didn’t expect you to recognise me. It’s been a long time, aye, a very long time indeed. And you were a toddler at the time.’

  ‘You were the one who took me from my parents,’ blurted Connor.

  ‘Yes I did. It seemed right, since I’m one of your Star-Lord fathers.’

  ‘What?’ gasped Connor.

  ‘I’ll explain later.’

  Connor rubbed his face and leaving a trail of blood, from the open wound on his finger. ‘Thanks for helping me.’

  The beast grimaced at the sight of the wound. He pulled from his pocket a piece of cloth and a small leather bag. Inside the leather bag, he took a tub of thick, white cream, which he dabbed with the cloth and applied to the wound. ‘Keep still, this won’t hurt.’

  As he tended to Connor’s wound, the ointment’s cooling effect penetrated deeper than skin level, soaking into his sore muscles. The tip of his finger instantly stopped bleeding and the throbbing eased. He wiped Connor’s face gently to clean it.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Flutis – it’s a healing ointment.’ The beast replaced it in his pocket. ‘Come. We’ve work to do.’

  ‘But I don’t know your name,’ said Connor.

  ‘Bromie.’

  ‘I’m Connor.’

  ‘I know.’

  When Bromie stood, Connor gaped. The giant, seven-feet tall, gathered his rope and slung it on his shoulder. ‘Sparkie told me to keep an eye out for a boy with scruffy blond hair.’

  Connor gasped. ‘You saw Sparkie?’

  ‘Yes. He still has his corbee with him.’

  ‘Corbee?’ questioned Connor.

  ‘It’s a communication device, similar to a mobile phone but much more advanced,’ Bromie explained. ‘Others from the AAA are working their way through the tunnels now. It’s why I could help so quickly.’

  ‘Oh! How’s Sparkie? Did he mention Tookar?’

  ‘They’re okay for now. But rock dwellers eat humans. Apparently Tookar and he are on tomorrow’s menu, in aid of a cleansing ritual for a young rock dweller named De-ma.’

  ‘I met him.’ Connor explained how a young rock dweller had saved him and provided a ladder to escape the pit. ‘He mentioned a cleansing ritual, but he wasn’t happy about it.’

  ‘Nothing good can happen when someone interfere with your brain,’ muttered Bromie. ‘Tomorrow the goodness from his soul will be stripped away, leaving him changed forever.’

  Connor gulped. ‘We must help him too – but why didn’t the other rock dwellers take me away?

  ‘You’re stronger than them and they sensed it. Besides you have a gun. Rock dwellers don’t enjoy fighting. They enjoy killing their prey quickly and easily. Come. Enough talk. We’re going to the stronghold.’

  Bromie helped Connor on to his feet. They walked in the same direction Connor and his friends had earlier taken. Connor followed Bromie, thinking of Kia and hoped she’d survived.

  ‘I don’t suppose you noticed a flying girl? She’s missing and I haven’t a clue where she’s gone.’

  Bromie paused, with worry. ‘Kia’s gone missing too?’

  ‘You know her?’

  ‘Well, Sparkie mentioned her.’

  ‘The last time I saw her before we fell into the pit. So what shall we do now?’

  ‘Meet the rock dwellers and try to bargain with them.’

  ‘Bargain with them? What with?’

  ‘Their own lives,’ Bromie grinned.

  In the far distance, magnificent mountains framed the horizon, where a warm glow from a fiery beacon could be seen on the tip of a huge monument far away. A few feet from where they travelled, a bubbling pool spurted thick, muddy lumps making rude noises as it did so. Another small lizard, scampered close to the pool, sinking its bright orange skin beneath the soft muddy ooze. Another one followed it.

  ‘Nice place,’ muttered Bromie.

  ‘It reminds me of planet Earth in the future, if people don’t stop destroying it with pollution, greed and power,’ mumbled Connor.

  ‘It’s a bit deep and serious for now.’ Bromie kicked a large stone similar in size to the one which Connor had painfully stubbed his toe and it bounced like a football.

  ‘I read a book once at school. I feel as if I’ve stepped on to the page as the artist ha drawn a world like Dramian.’

  ‘Maybe possessed the power to visualise places without visiting them,’ Bromie suggested.

  ‘Maybe.’ Anything seemed possible after his recent experiences.

  They trudged for a mile and a quarter before they came to rest at a cluster of leafless trees. Bromie squatted, to spy through the large gaps between the branches.

  He lowered his voice and pointed. ‘Look!’

  A gang of Armatripe guarded the entrance to the stronghold. Their backs were covered in black armour and glistened as if they’d been polished for hours. Adding to their grotesque appearance were six crooked arms, complete with claws. Two skinny crooked legs with huge flat feet supported their large bodies.

  ‘What are they? Deformed dung beetles?’ muttered Connor.

  Bromie grinned. ‘Or fried giant cockroaches. We must get past them before we can enter the place.’

  The colour drained from Connor’s face. ‘What? You want us to go in that place?’

  ‘You want to rescue your friends, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes but…do you have a plan?’

  ‘No, do you?’

  The night sky buzzed with activity. A loud humming noise hovered overhead. Bromie pushed Connor further between the trees to hide him. They remained crouched and hidden. The sky teemed with streaks of colour from hundreds of flying aliens strongly resembling stingray fish, illuminated by an eerie blue light. The strange decorative lights passed overhead, shooting and zigzagging through the blackness towards the stronghold. The persistent humming noise continued until the creatures had passed. They were protect
ively guarding something in their group but he couldn’t see it clearly enough.

  ‘They’re beautiful!’ Connor whispered.

  ‘The whizzers are dangerous!’

  ‘And fast.’

  ‘Shhh! Keep still!’

  They watched the whizzers drop something to the ground in front of the entrance. The Armatripe picked the limp bundle. Connor narrowed his eyes to focus. When an Armatripe slumped the object on its shoulder did Connor realise what they had been guarding.

  ‘It’s Kia!’

  But Bromie shushed Connor for the whizzers retreated the way they had come. The low flying, deafening cloud flew above them, reminding Connor of an engine of a small flying craft.

  ‘I hope she’s okay,’ mumbled Connor.

  ‘At least we know where she is. I’m calling for help.’

  He took a small round metal disc-shaped object from his waistcoat and flipped the lid. As he dialled numbers into the device a three-dimensional hologram image projected from it. A large transparent head appeared floating above the device, similar to Bromie but wearing a black eye patch on its right eye.

  ‘Where the devil have you been?’ came an agitated voice.

  ‘I’m going to rescue some of our men but require help.’

  ‘Give me your co-ordinates and I’ll see you in a jiffy. Do you have your bridge with you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Bromie reeled off numbers and their conversation ended.

  ‘What’s a bridge?’

  ‘It’s a way of travelling from one place to another by using co-ordinates. Now we have the co-ordinates to this forsaken country we’ll be able to visit any time without waiting for a full moon.’

  ‘Is it a spaceship?’

  ‘No. A bridge is a small device which has the power to transport you in seconds to a place a million miles away.’

  When Connor came face to face with a nine-foot giant who held weapons in both hands and wore a patch, he patted Bromie on the back in shock. The giant wore leather trousers, tied with a buckled belt, and a matching waistcoat. Speechless, he watched as Bromie greet the stranger.

  ‘Connor, meet Obi, my brother.’

  Connor trembled. ‘Pleased…to meet you.’

  The giant roared with laughter as he shook Connor’s hand. ‘I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. I hope my brother has been looking after you.’

  ‘He saved my life,’ he whispered.

  Obi roared so loud the Armatripe near the stronghold spotted the giant’s head sticking from the tree. He didn’t try to hide.

  ‘Cooeee!’ Obi waved to the enemy.

  Needless to say the whizzers swung back at once to attack Obi, who laughed with pleasure, while Connor remained concealed.

  Obi bellowed louder than Mr Piggott ever did, swiftly swatting one whizzer after another with a weapon resembling a tennis racket. At the same time he poked a large metal rod with a clear crystal at the end towards another whizzer. It zapped and disappeared.

  The tennis racket knocked the whizzers and the metal rod made them vanish. One by one, they flicked their tails at the giant as if trying to sting him but despite Obi’s size, he moved with adept skill and speed. Fascinated, Connor huddled within the branches of the trees, watching him zap the creatures and make them disappear altogether. After a chaotic five minutes the whizzers had vanished.

  ‘Easy peasy!’ Obi laughed victoriously.

  Three Armatripe charged towards the commotion. Gripping his massive sword, Bromie leapt the tree to fight on the other side from where Connor lay concealed. He landed nimbly for someone his size and positioned his legs wide for combat. These Armatripe were armed with the same powerful swords as the ones, which had ambushed Connor and his friends earlier and moved slowly in comparison to the giants. By the time they lifted their swords, Bromie had already swung his weapon above his head to slice the grotesque creatures in half.

  ‘What a party!’ Obi laughed. ‘I haven’t caught so many whizzers for a long time.’ He helped Connor onto his feet. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’ll live.’ Connor wiped the dirt off his clothes.

  ‘One sting of their tail and you’re paralysed for hours! Good job you stayed hidden,’ Obi grinned. ‘But they won’t sting me!’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘The giant howled. ‘I’m too fast for them, that’s how come!’

  Connor took an instant liking to Obi.

  Bromie cleared his throat. ‘Thanks for helping, Obi.’

  ‘It’s what brothers are for,’ he grinned. ‘If it means destroying anything belonging to that over-sized pinkly-doodle-pop, I’ll willingly do it.’

  ‘He means Definastine,’ Bromie explained.

  ‘Why, that oversized-pee-pot-brain!’ Obi carried on, still referring to Definastine. ‘He won’t get away with it!’ He thrashed his rod in the air. ‘I’ll track him and tear him limb from limb.’

  ‘You would?’ gasped Connor, marvelling at his confidence and strength.

  ‘No. He’d probably turn me into a giant jam buttie before I got anywhere near him. So where to now?’

  Bromie pointed to the structure in the distance. ‘The stronghold.’

  Relaxed, Obi took the lead, strolling confidently with massive strides. Connor ran to keep pace.