The Monster Within

by Darrell Pitt

  ‘Tiger bites!’ she screeched. ‘Deer hides!’

  She kneed the next man between the legs and he hit the ground, groaning in agony. A man with a beard produced another knife. But Miss Bloxley kicked it away, punched him in the face and snatched up the weapon. Throwing it, she cried out, ‘Dove in flight!’

  It hit the last man in the shoulder. He fell to the ground, screaming.

  Finally, she leapt into the air and landed on the fourth man. ‘Elephant walks!’ she screamed. Bones broke. ‘And jungle shakes.’

  Miss Bloxley turned to Jack and Scarlet. ‘We had best be going children,’ she said. ‘On the double.’

  Speechless, Jack and Scarlet climbed over the group of groaning men and ran at a steady pace for three blocks until they reached the high street. People were everywhere. Delivery trucks dropped off goods. A steam-powered garbage truck picked up bins. Steamcars and horse-drawn carriages crowded the road.

  ‘Miss Bloxley!’ Jack exploded at last. ‘That was incredible! How did you do that?’

  ‘Through a combination of martial arts styles—karate, jiu jitsu, wing chun and several others.’

  ‘Did Mr Doyle teach you?’ Scarlet asked.

  ‘Did he teach me?’ Miss Bloxley looked insulted. ‘Who do you think taught him? Doyle would be far more accomplished if only he applied himself.’ She glared at Jack. ‘Like some others I know.’

  A shot rang out, ricocheting off a wall. Jack turned to see the group of men, bleeding and battered, in a steamtruck halfway down the block.

  ‘Quickly!’ Miss Bloxley said. ‘We must get to the airship terminal—’

  Bang!

  She cried out, gripping her arm. ‘Dash it all! I’m winged!’

  A policeman stood on the other side of the road. He gave a long pull on his police whistle. People ran in all directions, screaming and pushing to get out of the way. Miss Bloxley followed Jack and Scarlet away down the block, but pushed them into a doorway.

  ‘You must continue without me,’ she gasped. ‘Go to Edinburgh. There is a shop called McSweeney’s that specialises in tartans. See what you can find there.’

  ‘We can’t leave you,’ Scarlet said.

  ‘You must. I will take refuge and let Doyle know of your situation.’

  Jack and Scarlet raced up the street. Another shot rang out, and a horse-drawn carriage threw off its driver and raced across the road, slamming into the front of a fruit shop. A garbage truck driver abandoned the vehicle to flee from the scene.

  Scarlet grabbed Jack’s arm, dragging him towards the truck.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he asked.

  She climbed up into the cabin. ‘Taking us for a drive!’ she said. ‘Get in!’

  He scrambled after her. ‘Are you joking? You don’t know how to drive a car, let alone a truck.’

  ‘We’ll be fine. I read how to do it in a book.’

  ‘I’ve read how to fly a space steamer, but I’m not about to fly one!’

  Scarlet examined the dashboard, the pedals set into the floor and the steering wheel. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I think I’ve got this worked out.’

  Another shot rang out. The steamtruck was closing on them. Jack was about to point this out when Scarlet released the brake and slammed her foot down on the accelerator. The truck leapt like an animal from a cage, throwing Jack back into his seat.

  ‘Hold on!’ Scarlet yelled.

  The garbage truck pulled into the middle of the road. It was a one-way street, but horses and cars had scattered in all directions once the shooting started. A horse veered towards them. Scarlet swung the steering wheel about to miss it—instead sideswiping a line of parked cars. People ran for their lives.

  Scarlet glanced into her side mirror. ‘I think they’re gaining on us,’ she said, accelerating again. But just as she did, a terrified family dashed across the road.

  ‘Oh dear!’

  ‘Scarlet!’ Jack yelled. ‘Don’t—’

  She steered the truck onto the footpath, demolishing a row of shop awnings. Produce, books, clothing and bric-a-brac disappeared under the wheels in a mash of destruction.

  Jack glanced to his left. Their pursuers drew level, one of them raising a gun.

  ‘Duck!’ Jack yelled.

  Their windscreen exploded. Scarlet directed the truck into the other vehicle. Metal crunched against metal. Another shot rang out. Scarlet pulled away, trying to accelerate, but rebounded off another line of parked steamcars.

  ‘Look out!’ Jack yelled.

  Ahead, a steambus had begun to pull across the intersection, the driver blissfully unaware of the chaos heading towards him. Scarlet slammed on the brakes and she and Jack were flung against the dashboard. Their pursuers were slower to react, screeching to a halt twenty feet ahead. A man started to climb out, gun raised.

  Scarlet took off again. But a man came sprinting towards them. He leapt onto the running board, throwing himself at Scarlet, trying to drag her through the window. Jack reached across, trying to punch the man in the face, but struck only a glancing blow.

  The man managed to draw back a fist and slam it into Jack’s chin. His rubber nose flew off. Scarlet braked again and the man went flying. Scarlet let out a long sigh, then smiled.

  ‘That wasn’t so bad,’ she said. ‘Was it?’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ‘Not so bad?’ Jack yelled. ‘That was the most insane thing I’ve ever seen!’

  Scarlet brought the truck to a ragged halt at the end of the high street. Climbing out, they looked back at the trail of destruction. Their pursuer’s vehicle was now on fire. Twenty steamcars had been sideswiped. Horses and people ran wildly in every direction.

  ‘Not bad for a novice,’ she amended.

  ‘We need to get to Margate Airfield,’ Jack said. ‘Those men know we’ve got the tartan. It must lead to the Valkyrie Circle.’

  They made their way to the airfield on the other side of town. Airships were leaving for numerous destinations, most within England, but a few were heading to Scotland.

  ‘You notice the one odd thing about this investigation?’ Scarlet said.

  ‘You mean apart from bombs, snakes, out-of-control garbage trucks and tartan?’

  ‘The absence of women,’ Scarlet said, ignoring him. ‘The Valkyrie Circle is supposed to be a female terrorist group, but it seems to have precious few female members.’

  She had a point, but Jack wasn’t sure what it meant. ‘And I wonder how Domina fits into all this,’ he said.

  ‘And were those men who attacked us and Miss Bloxley with Domina? Or some other group?’

  Poor Miss Bloxley. ‘I hope she’s all right,’ he said. ‘She seems almost human now.’

  ‘Not quite so froggy?’

  Their tutor had been particularly harsh with him, especially over his Latin, but she had just risked her life for them both. ‘Not at all,’ he said. ‘She’s actually a nice lady, once you get to know her.’

  After buying tickets for the flight, Jack and Scarlet boarded a hundred-foot long airship calle
d the Empress, which took off a few minutes later.

  Settling into a seat near the window, Jack and Scarlet ate cut sandwiches served by a waiter as the vessel made a long arc over Margate, passing the area where Scarlet had driven the garbage truck. A few small fires were still burning.

  Sitting nearby, an elderly man spoke to his wife. ‘They say an insane girl destroyed half the town,’ he said. ‘And tried to run down the vicar!’

  ‘Outrageous!’

  Exchanging glances, Jack and Scarlet finished their sandwiches and sunk a little lower in their seats.

  Jack thought his mind would be too active for him to sleep, but he soon found his eyelids drooping. When he woke, the vessel was coming in to land.

  After disembarking, they left the airfield, caught a steambus to the heart of Edinburgh and found a small hotel named The Duck Inn.

  Over breakfast the next morning, Jack almost choked on his porridge when he saw the daily newspaper.

  ‘Bazookas,’ he said, glancing about fearfully. ‘That’s us.’

  Their pictures were plastered across the front page. They had been cropped from a group photo Mr Doyle had commissioned. How did the press get their hands on it? Jack wondered. Not only were they wanted in connection with the bombings, but they had also been identified as participants in a wild chase through Margate.

  ‘Best not to draw attention to ourselves,’ Scarlet said.

  ‘Really? I was just about to hurl a chair through a window to see what would happen.’

  After paying up, they began looking for the shop Mrs Bloxley had mentioned—McSweeney’s. Jack had been to Edinburgh once before with his parents. The heart of the city was dominated by Edinburgh Castle on the hill. The town below was a crush of terrace houses, but on the outskirts were the larger housing developments, buildings a hundred storeys high, where the bulk of the population lived.

  After half an hour of searching, they found the shop off the main mall.

  ‘I’ll go in alone,’ Scarlet said.

  Jack nodded and found a nearby bookshop to cruise. Not only did they have the complete set of Zombie Airship books in stock, but the latest had also been released.

  ‘The Zombie Airship Goes to Spain,’ he read. ‘Maybe that explains why it was so dangerous.’

  He purchased the book from the shop owner, an elderly man with huge jowls. ‘Don’t I know you from somewhere, lad?’ he asked, staring intently. ‘Ye look familiar, somehow.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Jack said, trying to appear innocent.

  Today’s newspaper and a cup of coffee were directly in front of the man. He would realise Jack’s identity in a second if he glanced down.

  Jack pointed over his shoulder, saying, ‘Is that A Tale of Two Cities?’

  As the man looked back, Jack knocked his coffee over the paper.

  ‘I’m so sorry!’ Jack exclaimed. ‘Look what I’ve done!’

  ‘Fool!’

  Jack pulled out a handkerchief and roughly rubbed the newspaper, turning it to mash. ‘Your poor newspaper,’ Jack said. ‘Oh no!’

  ‘See what ye’ve done to ma paper!’ The man was furious. ‘I’ll wager yer a thief! A baddun!’

  ‘No!’ Jack said, reddening. ‘It was an accident!’

  ‘Thief!’ The man yelled, grabbing Jack by the collar. ‘I’ll have you arrested!’

  Jack was dragged out to the front of the shop where the man started yelling for help. People stopped and stared.

  Scarlet appeared.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she demanded. ‘What’s he done this time?’

  ‘You know him?’ the owner asked suspiciously.

  ‘I do. He’s my lunatic brother.’

  ‘He threw coffee all over my paper!’

  Scarlet glared at Jack. ‘He’s always doing things like that!’ She punched him in the arm. ‘I’ve told you about that before!’

  ‘Ouch!’

  ‘Did he start eating your books?’ Scarlet asked the man.

  ‘What?’

  ‘He does that sometimes. He swallowed most of the Old Testament last week. I stopped him just before the Book of Jonah.’ She stared intently at the old man. ‘Surely you realise he is non compos mentis?’

  ‘Well, I…’

  ‘Look at that face,’ Scarlet said, thumbing at Jack. ‘That slack jaw. The vacant stare. And the drooling. He’s always drooling.’

  The old man gave up, handing Scarlet over Jack and his book. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘You deserve a medal for looking after him.’

  ‘I know,’ Scarlet said, straight-faced. ‘But we all have our crosses to carry.’

  She led Jack away. They walked half a block before she swung on him. ‘I said not to draw attention to yourself!’ she said. ‘What were you doing?’

  Jack explained the unfortunate series of events. ‘You should be congratulating me,’ he muttered. ‘We’d have the police after us, otherwise.’

  ‘You did that slack-jawed act quite well,’ Scarlet said.

  ‘That’s just my normal expression,’ he grinned. ‘What did you find out about that tartan?’

  She explained the tartan was quite modern, originating from a new castle on the outskirts of Edinburgh.

  ‘A new castle?’ Jack said. ‘How’s that possible?’

  ‘Castles are usually very old,’ she said. ‘But you can build anything if you have enough money. Apparently Castle McDibben looks like the real thing. That’s where the tartan originates.’

  They decided to walk. The castle was a few miles out of the city, but keeping contact with other people to a minimum seemed a good idea. It was bright and sunny, a pleasant day to be outdoors. Despite everything they had gone through, Jack felt surprisingly positive.

  ‘Do you hear very much from your father?’ he asked.

  ‘I get a letter from him each month,’ she said. ‘He’s almost finished work on the Beijing Metrotower.’

  ‘You must miss him.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘How does he feel about our adventures with Mr Doyle?’

  Scarlet blushed. ‘I skim over the details,’ she confessed. ‘Although I record most of our escapades for future posterity.’ She looked at Jack. ‘You must still miss your parents?’

  ‘Every day,’ he said. He took out the locket and compass. ‘Thank goodness I still have these. They remind me of the good times.’

  Coming over a hill, Scarlet checked the address. A castle, not unlike thousands of other medieval castles, sat in the small valley. It was hard to believe it was new. Made from grey stone, it had a tower and two turrets. A creek ran past it to nearby woods.

  A door opened, then two men climbed into a vehicle and drove off.

  ‘Looks like they’re gone,’ Scarlet said. ‘Now’s our opportunity.’

  ‘You mean, now’s our opportunity to find a really nice Devonshire tea? I just love those scones with lashings of cream and—’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Follow me.’

 
A hedge bordering the property intersected with a thick wood. They climbed through the dense undergrowth to the castle. Now they were closer, it was obvious the castle was fairly new. The windows were modern, square and larger than a traditional castle, the brickwork in perfect condition. A patch of newly planted elm trees jutted against one side.

  ‘I’ll take a closer look,’ Jack said.

  ‘I can go.’

  ‘In that dress? Wait here.’

  Jack cautiously advanced. He had to stand on tiptoes to see in the windows, where he saw a desk, a bookcase and a painting over a fireplace. It all looked completely normal—and tidy.

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

  The voice belonged to a bearded man standing at the corner of the building. He had a rifle pointed at Jack.

  ‘Uh, nothing,’ Jack said.

  ‘What do you take me for? A fool?’

  Jack decided it was a rhetorical question.

  The man waved the weapon towards the back door. ‘Get inside. And don’t try anything smart.’

  Jack was forced to a chair in the kitchen. His mouth dropped as a door flew open.

  ‘What an unexpected surprise,’ John Fleming said from the doorway. ‘One of Doyle’s brats has come to play.’

  A pair of handcuffs was produced and Jack’s hands secured behind him.

  ‘Doyle and his secretary have already been arrested,’ he told the other man, ‘but that still leaves the girl.’

  ‘The police are on their way,’ Jack said. ‘Scarlet’s bringing them.’

  ‘What?’ Fleming’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re lying.’

  ‘Maybe he’s not,’ the bearded man said. ‘We should leave.’

  ‘The kid’s lying, Tony. I’d stake my life on it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t,’ Tony said. ‘Get the car from the barn. We’ll move to the house.’

  Smash!

  ‘That came from the front!’