‘Ohmygrass . . .’ wailed Jaycey.
‘Ohmystomachs,’ gasped Sal.
They both hung on to Oxo with their teeth, but even he couldn’t stop himself sliding slowly after the manure, down towards the open end of the trailer, taking Links and Wills with him too.
In the car, Neil realised what was about to happen but had no time to reverse. He could only watch in horror as a ton of straw and muck slid from the trailer towards him. Then his gleaming pride and joy was buried beneath a steaming dung heap and he could see nothing.
Tony whacked the control lever in the tractor cab again, just as the Warriors were about to slide out with the last of the manure. The trailer floor began to level out once more and they were able to scrabble away from the edge.
‘Stay back!’ yelled Tony at the sheep as he returned to the trailer to slam the tailboard shut. By the time Neil and Luke had forced the sports car doors open and struggled out, he was back in his tractor cab again.
‘Och, sorry aboot that,’ he called. ‘I didnae see you so close behind me.’ He waved cheerily and drove off.
When the tractor and trailer had lurched out of sight around the next corner, he shouted at his passengers.
‘Well done, sheep. Let’s go!’
He drove on, whistling to himself, while the Warriors shook the mucky debris from their fleeces and wondered where exactly they were going to.
Neil knew he’d been made a fool of.
‘Don’t just stare at it, then!’ he shouted at Luke. ‘They’re getting away. Dig!’
Then his phone rang. He checked the caller’s identity. It was the Very Nasty Boss again. He decided not to answer. Digging dung with his bare hands was preferable.
16
No Escape
Back in Yorkshire, Tod and Ida had searched the hillside near the railway station for hours, and found nothing except a llama sitting humming to itself.
‘Never mind, Gran,’ said Tod. ‘There’s lots more hills yet.’
‘That’s the trouble,’ said Gran, sounding tired and, for the first time, a bit depressed. ‘There’s too many of them.’
Then, through the clearing mist, they saw Lady Babcott striding uphill to meet them.
‘You’ll never guess,’ she panted. ‘The man at the railway station says five sheep got on the train we saw. Come on. Back to the chopper. They’ll be at Loch Glooming by now!’
*
Tony Catchpole was also heading for Loch Glooming. He was doubling back towards the station, hoping Cousin Angus wouldn’t mind about the missing manure.
Tony was happy. Very happy. His second call on the train had been to Nisha Patel, and Nisha had agreed to meet him at Loch Glooming Station. Now that he had the sheep, Tony could show Organic TV how the poor animals had been modified by aliens. He could point out to the world the electronic collar by which they were being controlled. He could give Nisha another daffodil.
Then, without warning, the smoke-belching roar of the tractor’s engine became a feeble phut-phut, and the tractor and trailer rolled gently to a halt. Tony peered at the fuel gauge. The needle was pointing to Empty. He bashed it with the hammer. Still empty. His happiness evaporated. He pulled out his phone to call Nisha and explain that he would be late. But he was out of phone battery as well as tractor fuel. If he wanted to meet her at the station, he would have to run. Fast.
In the trailer, the Warriors could hear Tony muttering to himself as he jumped down from his seat. They watched him leap the fence into a nearby field and haul up an armful of withered greenery. He hurried back and tossed it into the trailer.
‘Just stay here, yes?’ he pleaded. ‘Stay here. I won’t be long. I’ll come back with Nisha and some petrol and you’ll be really famous. Yes? Good. Good sheep.’ And he ran off.
‘What’s Nisha?’ asked Oxo, when Tony had disappeared. ‘Some kind of nice grub?’ He nosed the withered greenery, which turned out to be the limp remains of last season’s Brussels sprouts. ‘Because no way am I eating this.’
‘I don’t know ‘bout Nisha,’ said Links. ‘But what if he don’t come back, man, and those other dudes show up?’
‘What if he does come back?’ said Sal. ‘Surely we should take a chance now. We all saw the mountains. North is close. What are we waiting for?’
‘Er, Oxo, I think,’ said Wills.
‘Waste not, want not,’ mumbled the Oxford piously through a mouthful of mildewed sprouts.
Then he followed the others as one by one they jumped out of the trailer on to a springy patch of roadside heather and headed north again.
A long way behind them, the yellow sports car, now a blotched khaki brown, had been mostly excavated from the dung heap.
‘Right,’ said Neil, ‘let’s see if we can shift it. I’ll get in, you push.’
‘Why don’t you call the phone tracker guy first?’ asked Luke. ‘That tractor could be anywhere by now.’
Neil didn’t answer.
‘You’ve upset him, haven’t you?’ said Luke.
‘Just shut up and start pushing,’ snapped Neil.
He dabbed at the keypad on his mobile.
‘Who are you calling, then?’ asked Luke.
‘The sheep, of course.’
Luke stared. ‘The sheep?’ he said faintly.
Neil stared back. ‘Because the guy on the tractor who’s got them will answer, won’t he, nerdbrain. Maybe we can do a deal.’
Trotting North, Jaycey suddenly skittered sideways.
‘Ohmygrass . . . Ohmygrass . . .’
The other Warriors heard the noise and quickly gathered round.
‘Ohmygrassohmygrassohmygrass . . .!’
‘Don’t be upset, dear,’ said Sal soothingly. ‘Hearing the voice of Aries so close is a daunting experience.’
Sal took the plastic bag in her mouth to muffle the awe-inspiring sound and as she did so her teeth pressed the answer button. Instantly, the sound stopped. There was a moment’s silence, then they heard a voice. To Sal’s astonishment it sounded human.
‘Hullo? Hullo? Can you hear me?’ It paused. ‘Say something, then.’
Sal let go of the Baaton bag and it banged against Jaycey’s chest. Sal didn’t understand why Aries should be addressing them in human speech but she felt she must reply.
‘Baa . . .’
‘Say again?’
‘Baa . . .’ repeated Sal.
The other Warriors gathered round.
‘Listen,’ said the voice of the Baaton. ‘I’d like to offer you a deal.’
Sal didn’t know what a deal was.
‘Baa . . . Baa . . .’ she answered respectfully.
‘Stop messing around and name your price.’
She didn’t know what a price was either.
‘Baa . . . Baa . . . Baa . . .’
The Warriors crowded closer. They could all now hear a bewildered whispering from the Baaton.
‘He’s talking like a sheep. All he says is “Baa . . .”. It’s really spooky.’
‘Baa . . .’ replied Sal. And then the other Warriors joined in.
‘Baa . . . Baa . . . Baa.’
‘Take it or leave it. This is your last chance . . .’
Wills stiffened. He knew that a last chance was not a good thing. And something else was worrying him. The voice was vaguely familiar, though he couldn’t think why.
‘I think Aries is telling us to hurry,’ he said, and he quickly closed his teeth around the bag and the Baaton.
The voice stopped and Wills led the way onwards, feeling confused and suddenly rather frightened.
Neil stood staring at his phone.
‘He’s rung off.’ He pulled an angry face, then stuffed the phone back into his pocket. ‘But they can’t be that far ahead.’ He put his shoulder to the back of the car to heave it out of the last of the manure. ‘Come on, come on!’ He gestured for Luke to take over and ran round to the driver’s seat. The engine roared, the wheels spun and Luke got covered in a flying brown spray b
efore the tyres finally gripped.
‘Here, mind my upholstery!’ shouted Neil as he saw the state Luke was in.
Luke was beyond caring about Neil’s upholstery. He got in beside him and wiped his sleeve on the white leather seat. Saffron didn’t mind the mess. Or the stink. She jumped in after Luke and sat on his lap, wagging her tail and licking his filthy face.
The car bounced and lurched along painfully for a while, then the unmade lane rejoined the main track and they were able to go faster. Soon they saw what they were looking for.
‘Tractor’s up ahead!’ shouted Luke, feeling relieved. He had changed his mind again about giving himself up. He would get the phone from the little sheep before Neil could, then he would run straight to the police in Loch Glooming. They could divert the money back to its rightful owners.
On reaching the tractor, Luke jumped out of the car before Neil had finished braking. But the trailer was empty. There was no sign of the driver or of the sheep. Luke slumped down in the middle of the road and put his head in his hands.
‘What are you doing?’ bawled Neil. ‘Get back in the car. They’ve got to be really, really close!’
He jumped back in and Luke, feeling he had no choice, followed. Saffron was already there, feet on the dashboard, excited. Neil drove on, steering with one hand, the other arm resting on the open window frame as he scanned the fields around. A few eager minutes later, he shouted again.
‘There they are, look!’
He was right. The sheep were milling about further along the narrow track, where it passed between a high stone wall on one side and a rocky outcrop on the other.
‘Bionic?’ laughed Neil. ‘Super intelligent? No way.’ And he punched the air.
‘Why’ve they stopped?’ Luke asked. ‘There’s no gate or anything.’
‘Don’t know, don’t care,’ replied Neil. ‘They’re just stupid woolbags.’ He savoured the moment. ‘Let the dog out, and we’ve got them.’
17
The North
The Rare Breed Warriors had been halted by the widest cattle grid they had ever seen. It was there to stop farm animals from straying into the thick pine forest beyond. Its smooth rounded bars seemed to grin up at the sheep, as if knowing they dared not step on it. Livestock won’t tread on a grid for fear of getting hooves trapped between the bars.
The rock face to their right was too steep to climb. The wall to their left too high to jump. And the dog and the men who had tried to trap them in London were racing towards them. The dog was barking. They could almost feel its hot breath on their backs.
‘Ohmygrass . . .’ whimpered Jaycey. ‘We’re trappedtrappedtrapped!’
Links didn’t think so.
‘Let’s roll, man!’ he suddenly shouted.
‘This is no time for one of your moves,’ bleated Sal. Then to her astonishment, Links threw himself sideways on the grid, kicked his feet in the air and began to do just what he’d said: roll.
Wills instantly followed. Then all the sheep were on the grid, rolling and wriggling across it on their backs.
‘Go dog! Go!’ yelled Neil, but Saffron was going nowhere. She only barked even more ferociously, to cover up her own dread of stepping on the slippery, gappy bars. She just couldn’t do it. And her sheep moment was fading quickly.
Neil and Luke ran back to the car and Saffron jumped on to Luke’s lap again.
‘Why didn’t you show her who’s boss?’ asked Luke, as they trundled slowly over the grid. Neil ignored him.
‘Chuck her out,’ he snapped, as soon as they were on the other side.
Luke opened the door and nudged Saffron until she had to jump.
‘Go on, you big wimp!’ Neil shouted at her. ‘I paid three hundred quid for you! Prove you’re not completely useless.’
‘She’s not a wimp,’ retorted Luke. ‘She’s sensitive.’
Saffron ran after the disappearing sheep and Neil drove as fast as he could along the winding track after her. He caught up with her standing at a stream at the edge of the forest.
Neil drove straight past the dog and through the stream.
‘What’s the matter?’ he called mockingly back at Saffron, as spray from the wheels soaked her. ‘Don’t like getting your feet wet? Which way now, Superdog?’
Saffron suddenly became agitated, barking towards the wide track in front of the car. The track was straight and steep, cutting uphill through the forest, dividing it in two. It was rutted with wheel marks, for this was a forest where the pine trees were grown and cut down for timber. There was a pile of logs at the top of the hill, and, struggling up towards it, were the sheep.
‘Yes!’ shouted Neil, punching the air again. He drove rapidly on to the wide forest track, revved the engine hard and started up the slope after the sheep.
‘Go get ’em!’ he yelled at Saffron. But Saffron stayed where she was. She stopped barking and watched uneasily as the car roared and bumped up the hill. The sheep were suddenly nowhere to be seen. Where had they gone?
Hiding behind the pile of logs at the top, Jaycey panicked when she heard the low grinding roar coming towards her.
‘Ohmygrass! The beastthebeastthebeast . . .!’
‘What beast? What beast?’ asked all the other sheep, turning to Jaycey in alarm.
‘How do I know?’ she bleated. ‘All forests have beasts, don’t they? That’s what my mum said.’
‘Jaycey, it’s the car, remember?’ said Wills, trying to calm her down.
‘Car! Car! Car!’ cried Jaycey. One reason to panic was as good as another.
‘Shush, I’ve got a plan,’ said Wills. He turned and spoke rapidly to the others. They nodded in agreement. They had to act as one and act fast.
But Jaycey was too frightened to listen to Wills. She dashed out from behind the pile of logs and was instantly transfixed by the two great yellow eyes coming towards her.
Neil had just flicked on his headlights and there it was, all lit up: the black-and-white sheep with the phone in the plastic bag swinging from its petrified neck.
‘Got you this time, woolbag!’ he shouted exultantly.
‘Don’t run it over, then!’ cried Luke.
‘Why not?’ laughed Neil. ‘Can’t bite or butt if it’s squidged.’
The Warriors didn’t hear this nasty threat. Their heads were down, waiting for the word from Oxo.
‘One, two, three . . . Butt!’ he cried, then smashed his great forehead into the pile of logs. The others did the same. ‘And again!’ cried Oxo. ‘Butt! Butt! Butt!’
Neil stared. The logs piled next to the black-and-white sheep suddenly ceased to be a pile. A few bounced off. The ones at the bottom began to slide. Then the whole lot started to roll downhill, towards the car.
‘Reverse! Reverse!’ screamed Luke helpfully.
Neil did so, fast, but it’s hard to steer backwards downhill pursued by half a forest. One wheel left the track, then another; then the car slid sideways and ended in a ditch, right way up but stuck fast. The logs rumbled by, casually denting the roof and doors as they went. The forest fell silent.
‘Are you all right, Neil?’ ventured Luke anxiously.
‘Wonderful, mate,’ came the reply. ‘Absolutely socking wonderful . . .’
‘Look,’ said Luke. ‘Sheep.’
Neil slowly raised his head.
Luke was right. A huddle of the woolbags was standing above them, floodlit by the remaining headlight beam. If Neil hadn’t known better, he could have sworn they looked concerned. Guilty, almost.
‘Don’t worry,’ he shouted at them savagely. ‘The car’s a write-off but we’re just fine. Really comfy.’
The Warriors looked at each other.
Wills shrugged. ‘I suppose that’s all right then,’ he said.
‘Yeah,’ said Oxo. ‘What’s a write-off?’
Wills didn’t know. But the important thing was the plan had worked. The car wouldn’t be chasing them any further.
Luke shivered, and not just be
cause of the plummeting temperature. He was scared. He didn’t like forests. Saffron hadn’t exactly proved useful to them but he was glad when she bounded up and squeezed into the car again.
A noise overhead made him duck. When he risked looking up, he saw only a helicopter. If it had looked like a police helicopter he would have got out of the car and waved his arms and shouted. But it didn’t. At least, he didn’t think the police used bright blue helicopters. He slid further down into the not-so-white leather seat and put his arms around Saffron’s warm body.
The sheep also heard the loud noise in the sky and hurried from the track into the shelter of the trees.
‘Hey . . .’ Oxo stared upwards in amazement. ‘Did you see the size of that mosquito?’
In the helicopter, Tod and Ida gazed down at the purple blackness of the pine forest but didn’t see the sheep. It was an unlikely place for sheep to go, in any case, but there’d been no sign of them back at Loch Glooming or on the rugged open ground near the town.
Then Tod saw a car. It seemed to be very badly parked. In a ditch. He urgently tapped his gran’s hand and pointed.
‘Look, Gran,’ he said. ‘That car. It’s like the yellow one those guys in our field had.’
Gran looked. ‘Could be,’ she said. ‘A bit mucky now, though.’ She laughed. ‘I wonder if his precious upholstery’s still white.’
Lady Babcott’s voice crackled in their headsets. ‘No sign of your sheep?’ she asked.
‘No. Only a car we thought we recognised,’ said Tod.
The helicopter banked away.
‘OK,’ said Lady Babcott. ‘We’ll land at the town and make enquiries.’
Down in the forest, with the sound of the giant mosquito fading, Oxo was anxious to move on.
‘Come on, sheep, let’s ship out.’ He really didn’t fancy pine needles for supper.
The sun was almost down and Sal glimpsed its redness through the trees.
‘Remind me, dear,’ she said to Wills, ‘Turn which way at the sunset?’
The Quest of the Warrior Sheep Page 8