by Arnot, Tim
Missed.
Damn!
The rabbits, startled, all made a dash for their burrows. Flick nocked up another arrow and waited. Before long, the rabbits started reappearing and went back to nibbling the grass as if nothing had happened. She let fly the arrow and a rabbit dropped. She turned her attention to another group and let fly. Then another and another. Happy that this would be enough meat to last for a while, she retrieved the rabbits and the arrows, and resumed her trip towards the cottage and Shea.
At the cottage, Flick leant her bike against the wall. She was about to grab the rabbits and go in when she stopped. She adjusted her clothes, and then she remembered. She grinned and undid her top button. Then she reached into her pocket and brought out the tiny glass bottle that she’d taken from her mother’s room. She unstoppered it and sniffed the contents.
That’ll do, she thought, and dabbed a little of the liquid behind each ear and as far down the front of her tunic as she could reach. One last dab on each wrist and she returned the bottle to her pocket. At last she grabbed the rabbits and went into the cottage.
‘Shea, it’s me!’ she called.
There was no reply. She went into the room and stopped. It was empty. The bracken bed was gone. The pots and water bottles, plates etc. were gone. The fire in the grate was gone, kicked out and the ashes cold and scattered. To all intents and purposes it was as if nobody had ever been here.
What could have happened? Shea’s leg couldn’t be better yet, so he wouldn’t just have left. Had he been captured? Perhaps he’d moved to another cottage?
Yes, that was it. Something had forced him to move out and he’d be waiting in one of the other houses.
Flick went from cottage to cottage, calling out Shea’s name, but there was no reply. She felt her pulse quicken. Dropping the rabbits, she rushed to check on the snares that they’d set a few days earlier. Every single one was gone. Her mouth tasted like iron as she ran to the field where his sky-kart had crashed, fearing the worst. Like everything else it was gone.
‘NO!’ she wailed, and dropped to the ground.
After a few moments she picked herself up. ‘Face it, girl,’ she thought, ‘he’s gone, and there’s nothing you can do about it.’ She looked around the field. It was clear from the scuff marks on the ground where the wrecked sky-kart had been. It was also clear that it had been taken away. The ground was well trampled and there were several sets of clear cart tracks leading to the lane. Someone, or more likely several someones, had brought a wagon into the field, loaded the sky-kart onto it and taken it away.
The only question was who.
Was it Kingsmen, or bandits, or someone else? Were they looking for her too? Maybe Shea’s parents had found him. She realised just how little she’d really known about him. Now it didn’t really matter; she would never see him again.
10
Reward Paid on Arrest
FLICK WALKED INTO the kitchen and dumped the rabbits onto the table. She quickly set to work skinning and butchering them, and placed the meat into a big cooking pot. Then she started on chopping some vegetables to go with it.
Rosie came through the door, carrying dirty plates from guests out in the bar. ‘Hey Flick, we thought you’d gone out,’ she said.
Flick sniffed. ‘Onions,’ she said, by way of explanation.
It wasn’t a convincing ruse, because once Rosie had deposited the plates in the sink, she came back and gave her big sister a hug.
‘What happened sis?’
Flick sniffed again, and put down her knife. ‘Nothing.’ Why do people always say that when it’s obviously not true, she wondered. She wiped her eyes. ‘He’s gone. They’ve taken him. I went out there first thing, caught these rabbits on the way; it was going to be a nice surprise. But when I got there, the cottage was deserted. I looked in all the houses and there was no sign of him. The traps were gone. His buggy thing was gone, and there were tracks in the field where they’d dragged it away. They’ve got him and there’s nothing I can do.’
‘Who’s got him?’ Rosie asked.
‘I don’t know.’ She burst into tears, finally overwhelmed.
Rosie hugged her tightly. ‘I’m so, so sorry, Flick,’ she said.
After a moment, Flick brightened a little. ‘I’m sorry Ro, I’m supposed to be the strong one, and hark at me blabbing like a baby!’
Rosie looked up at her, smiling and Flick smiled back. ‘Do you think he could have just gone?’
‘It had to be the Kingsmen or bandits,’ said Flick. ‘They took everything. Shea couldn’t have done that; he could hardly walk, there was no way he could have gone very far on his own.’
‘You only knew him a few days,’ Rosie said. ‘Don’t beat yourself up. It could have been worse. What if you’d been there when they took him? They’d have taken you too.’
‘Of course you’re right,’ said Flick. ‘I keep telling myself the same thing. It’s just that… I… What if they kill him?’ After a moment she picked up the knife again. ‘Better get these vegetables finished then we can have a nice rabbit stew for supper. Waste not want not, eh?’ She resumed her chopping.
Just then Adam burst in. ‘Hey girls,’ he said, noticing the pair standing at the table with their backs to him. ‘I’ve just been down at the Watch, and guess what they’ve just pulled in? Only this really amazing bit of Dark Times tech. They reckon it was actually a proper flying machine, like before The Collapse.’ He swaggered around the kitchen, gesticulating wildly. ‘Shame it was all busted up; must have crashed. It was out at the ridge, by the white horse, and you want to know the best bit? It was me tipped them off; I saw the smoke! If that doesn’t get me into the Watch I don’t know what will!’ He stood, hands on his hips, looking from one girl to the other and grinning.
Flick dropped her knife at the news and it clattered onto the floor. She stooped and picked it up in silence, then slammed it into the carrot on her chopping board. Pieces of carrot flew across the room. She sniffed, put the knife down carefully and wiped her eye.
Rosie turned a withering glare at Adam. ‘How could you?’ she demanded.
Adam stood there in the doorway, looking dumbfounded. ‘What?’
Leave it Rosie,’ Flick said, a slight tremble in her voice.
‘What did I do?’ repeated Adam.
‘Nothing. Go and wash up for dinner.’
Rosie knocked on the door to Flick’s room. ‘Hey Flick, it’s me, Ro.’ She opened the door and went in.
Flick was standing at the small window, looking out over the courtyard. She had Shea’s black box in her hands, turning it over and over. Rosie came and stood next to her, pressing her nose against the glass.
‘What’s that? She asked.
Flick looked down at the thing in her hands. ‘Just something I found,’ she said.
‘It belonged to him, didn’t it?’
‘Yes. I don’t know. Well, I think so.’ She handed it to Rosie, who started examining it.
‘I found it by the wreckage. It was before I even saw Shea. I’d put it in my bike and forgotten about it. He doesn’t even know I’ve got it.’
Rosie handed it back. ‘Do you know what it is?’
Flick shook her head and turned back to the window. ‘Dad’s getting the forge lit,’ she said, stifling a sniff. She wasn’t crying but her eyes were puffy and she avoided looking at her sister.
‘Yes, one of the horses threw a shoe,’ Rosie replied.
They stood there in silence, together at the window, for several minutes watching their father make his preparations.
Rosie put her arm around Flick’s waist and rested her head against her. ‘Do you think there’s any chance they didn’t catch him?’ she asked.
Flick sniffed and wiped her nose. ‘I don’t know, but I think if they had, Adam would have been crowing about it. You know, in a way I’m glad it was the Watch, because they are such a bunch of idiots. Between Fred and Bill and Alf–’
‘And Berry and Stanley,’
interjected Rosie, giggling slightly.
‘–And the rest,’ continued Flick, ‘they couldn’t catch a cold if it ran up and bit them on the behind!’
‘So if they didn’t catch him, what do you think happened?’
‘I don’t know,’ replied Flick, ‘but that lot moves like a herd of elephants, so I reckon he must have had ages worth of notice to pack up and go somewhere else. At least I hope so.’
‘Do you think you’ll be able to find him again?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t see how he could get far, not with that leg of his.’ Flick turned from the window. ‘You know Ro, that’s actually cheered me up. What do you say, we pop down to the baker’s and see if they’ve got something nice we can have for supper, eh? My treat!’
A short while later, Rosie and Flick were returning from the baker’s shop, clutching a bag full of iced buns. As they reached the town hall, they couldn’t help spotting a new sign pinned to the notice board. It read:
BE ALERT
UNIDENTIFIED PERSONS
IN THE AREA.
BELIEVED DANGEROUS
REPORT ALL STRANGERS
REWARD PAID ON ARREST
Flick’s shoulders slumped as she turned and crossed the street back to the inn, saying nothing. Rosie ran to catch up.
In the coming days, Flick found herself searching the woods looking for signs of Shea. She called out his name, but there was no response. She left food in places where she thought he might find it, but the following day either it was still there, or it had been gnawed by animals. Eventually days became weeks, and Flick finally stopped looking. By the third week of April, things were more-or-less back to normal.
Until one day there was a commotion.
Flick heard a lot of banging and shouting out in the street, and ran to the window to see what was going on. A large crowd of people was milling about in the square, and an entire section of the Watch standing guard outside the town hall. The people were pushing and shouting and the Watchmen were holding them back.
Flick ran to the kitchen to find Rosie. ‘You stay here, RoRo. It’ll be safe in the kitchen. I’ll go and see what the fuss is.’
There was no sign of Adam inside the inn, but Flick wasn’t surprised. If there was something happening and the Watch was involved, Adam would be there somehow.
Flick shut and barred the main gate before going out through the front door, making sure it was shut behind her. There were a lot of people in the square that she didn’t recognise, big men mostly. She wondered if they were the mayor’s men. It was certainly unusual, they normally stayed out of sight on the mayor’s estate. She pushed through until she reached the front, and there she saw eight Watchmen guarding the door of the town hall. She recognised Fred among them and called out.
‘Hey Fred, what’s going on? Who are all these people?’
‘Oh, hello Miss. Stay back from the door please,’ Fred replied. He was being jostled by the crowd, and Flick picked up on his formality.
‘What’s happening, Constable?’ she pushed the question. Two can play at that game.
‘Got a prisoner, Miss,’ said Fred. ‘Dangerous villain. Caught him up on the ridge, out by that old chalk pit. Been hiding there for weeks I shouldn’t wonder.’
Flick’s heart skipped a beat and she felt her face flush.
Shea!
Had they caught Shea?
‘Was he injured?’ Flick asked, her voice trembling ever so slightly.
Fred gave her a slightly quizzical look. ‘Dunno, Miss. We’re just here to guard the place; stop there from being a lynching. Didn’t actually see the prisoner myself.’
Flick opened her mouth as if to say something, but Fred cut her off.
‘And no Miss, he’s to have no visitors, by order of the mayor. And we’ve sent Jim, er, Corporal Ross up to Oxford to fetch the Kingsmen down. For the proper interrogation.’
‘What’s he supposed to have done?’
‘Dunno Miss. Our orders are just to guard the prisoner. We weren’t told anything else.’
Flick needed to find out who it was they were holding, but it was obvious that talking to Fred wasn’t going to help. She needed to find another way…
Adam was back in time for dinner. The crowd out in the square had dispersed, leaving just a pair of Watchmen guarding the Town Hall door. Adam had reappeared, looking pleased with himself, but he kept silent as they all sat down to their usual evening meal of stew.
‘Big commotion outside today,’ said Flick, by way of an opening gambit.
Adam nodded, but didn’t stop shovelling stew down his throat.
‘Some sort of dangerous criminal,’ she continued. ‘Anyone get a look at him?’
Both Adam and their father shook their heads. But Adam knew. He’d seen him, down at the station before he’d been transferred to the Town Hall. Got a few good kicks in too.
‘Fred said he was caught up on the ridge. By the old mine. Wonder if he’s an old bloke or a young guy? Do you think he’s injured?’
‘Couldn’t say,’ said Adam, finishing the last spoonful of stew from his bowl. He dropped his spoon into the bowl and said, ‘I’m done.’ Then he pushed back his chair, stood and left the room.
Adam made his way up the stairs. He was feeling particularly cheery now that someone had been caught. It was obviously the Scav that everyone had been looking for, and that had to bode well for his chances of getting in the Watch. The only fly in his ointment was the reaction of the two girls. They had him baffled at the best of times, but ever since he’d reported the smoke and the Watch had brought in the wrecked flying machine, they’d been acting weird. Even he’d noticed.
Going along the passage to his room, he noticed that Flick’s door was open. He glanced inside, and something caught his eye. On the table. He had to double take. Was that what he thought it was?
Checking back down the corridor to make sure that Flick wasn’t following him, he crept into her room. He picked it up and examined it just to be sure, but he was right. This was a radio, exactly like the one that Kingsman lady had shown him, that she was looking for.
Find me, and tell me about it. That’s what she’d said to him, that day at the museum.
Adam grinned. If he brought her the radio, that would really be a feather in his cap; no way would they stop him from joining the Watch. He put the radio back down on the table. No point in taking it until he’d figured out how to contact the Kingsman; Flick would soon spot it had gone and figure out that he’d taken it. And he’d be in all kinds of trouble.
But he had to do it before the Choosing, or it would be too late.
Briefly he wondered how Flick had come to have it, but decided she must have found it while she was out hunting. She was always scrabbling about, picking stuff up. She was almost as bad as the Scavs in that respect. No, the only question in his mind as he lay back on his bed was, how did he find that Kingsman woman?
11
The Hanging
IT WAS THE day before the Choosing, and Adam still hadn’t figured out how to contact the Kingsman woman. But this was his last opportunity to try… what? Something.
He was up early, sitting in the kitchen trying to figure out what to do, when he heard a loud banging on the front door. It took a moment for him to realise that the doors were still locked. He was never the first out of bed in the mornings–normally anyhow–so he never unlocked them. He got up to see what the commotion was.
His father just beat him to the door. ‘All right, all right, I’m coming,’ he called out, at the same time tying his dressing gown about himself.
Two men stood outside, large and scruffy, in black uniforms. At first Adam took them for Kingsmen, and maybe from a distance he would have continued in that belief, but up close the uniforms were shoddy and second rate. These were definitely not Kingsmen. His nose confirmed that assessment; the men stank of stale beer and piss. Not a pleasant smell first thing in the morning.
‘Got orders from the mayor,�
� one of the men said, the odour from his breath causing Adam’s nose to wrinkle. ‘Prisoner’s gonna get ‘is just desserts, and everyone’s gotta watch.’
‘Yeah,’ the other thug added, ‘anyone not outside in half an hour gets a beating in the stocks. And no skulking off neither, all doors to be locked.’
Orders from the mayor? Since when did the mayor give orders? And when did he get a private army?
Adam’s father shut the door. He looked quite pale, Adam noticed, suspecting he didn’t look much better himself after hearing that. He saw Flick standing at the top of the stairs, looking worried and his father went up to talk to her.
‘Come on Adam, we need to get everybody up and out,’ his dad called.
He followed his dad around, banging on doors and rousing the guests, telling them to go into the square as quickly as they could. As the last guest scurried down the stairs, he finally hit on a plan to get the radio. Desperate, but it had to work.
‘Dad, I just need to grab a coat from my room,’ he said.
‘Okay, but be quick,’ his father replied. ‘Flick’s counting everyone out, and we have to lock the door.’
Adam bounded up the stairs to his room, grabbed the biggest coat he had and put it on. Then, as he came back along the corridor, he tried Flick’s door. It opened. Good. He went in. There was no sign of the radio, so he cast his eyes about. The drawers. He rummaged through them; yes there it was. He put the radio in his pocket, pushed the drawer closed and shut the door behind him. Moments later he was outside in the town square.
By seven o’clock the square was filling up with people. Normally there would be a buzz of chatter and excitement, but today everyone was unusually quiet, their faces grim or blank. A fine drizzle fell from the barely light sky, grey clouds adding an ominous overcast to the already gloomy mood.