The Beast of Seabourne

by Rhys A. Jones

  “If Ellie’s not already out of there, she’s going to be stuck for a while,” Ruff said as he pulled on a sweatshirt.

  “I’m here, you gonk,” Ellie hissed, approaching them from behind. “Came to see where you two slowcoaches were.”

  “Right. This is our chance. It’s going to take ages to get all this sorted. Now’s the time to slip away.”

  Ellie nodded, but Oz saw Ruff hesitate.

  “What?” Oz said.

  “I know that this Beast of Seabourne stuff is supposed to be rubbish, but then who was attacking Ellie?” Ruff asked with a little warble in his voice.

  Ellie shrugged. “Well, no one can find Skelton.”

  Oz stuck his head out of the tent. He saw lots of faces, but in the chaos, it was impossible to recognise anyone. He saw Marcus stoking the fire and a group of six girls huddled in blankets around it. He couldn’t see Dilpak or Niko or anyone else, and he could only hear Miss Arkwright. He ducked back inside.

  “What do you think it was after?” Ruff asked as he pulled on a woolly hat.

  “By ‘it,’ do you mean the Beast?” Oz asked.

  “There is no Beast,” Ellie said angrily.

  “But what if there is?” Ruff argued. “What if it woke Skelton up as it went for Bernice and you? Maybe Skelton’s gone after it.”

  “Funny you should say that, ’cos the bigger one of the two I saw looked a bit Skelton-shaped,” Oz muttered.

  “See,” Ruff said, his voice rising with justification. “Maybe Gerber set the thing on us.”

  Ellie growled with frustration. “There is no such thing as the Beast of Seabourne. Everyone, and I mean everyone—Gerber included—thinks we’re in Cornwall. How could he possibly set the Beast on us here?”

  But Ruff had his answer ready. “You’re forgetting about the Cuckoo. If Gerber recruited her and she really can talk to dead people or see the future—”

  “She’s a fraud, Ruff,” Oz said impatiently.

  “Yeah, all right, but what if she wasn’t a complete fraud and could track you with a crystal ball or something and summon up some sort of supernatural demon thingy? What if that was what you saw?”

  “I think someone put something in your soup,” Ellie said, shaking her head. Both she and Oz waited for the inevitable comparison between their current situation and some obscure Xbox game that Ruff played, but nothing came. Instead, Ruff just stared at them, blinking rapidly.

  “Look, I don’t know exactly what it was I saw, but it wasn’t a demon. Besides, I think this is the chance we’ve been waiting for,” Oz said.

  They both looked at him.

  “I’m not going to like this much, am I?” Ruff said.

  “Shut up, Ruff,” Ellie snapped. “What are you saying, Oz?”

  “We leave now while everything’s mad. Only two things are for certain—Ellie and Bernice’s tent was attacked, and Skelton’s gone. Let’s use that. Since he isn’t here, they might assume we’re with him.”

  “Arkwright is going to go ape-shape,” Ruff said.

  “Yeah, she is, but I don’t suggest we ask permission.

  Look, phones don’t work here, the only other responsible adult is gone, and it’s pitch-black. Arkwright is going to be worried sick, and I hate to do this to her, but I reckon it gives us a good couple of hours before the guano really hits the fan.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Ellie said, grinning.

  “You would say that,” Ruff said, his face, in the light of the fire, a pale, unhappy mask. “But I have a very bad feeling about this.”

  “We’re not going to have a better chance for finding the ring.”

  The other two remained silent. Oz added, “This is what we came here for, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, but that thing that attacked Ellie…”

  “Don’t be such a wimp, Ruff,” Ellie said.

  Ruff threw her a fearful, accusatory glare, but Ellie ignored him and switched on her lantern. Oz quickly pulled her hand down and turned it off.

  “No lights,” Oz said. “Someone will see us.”

  “But it’s completely black out there,” Ruff protested.

  He was right. Beyond the lantern-lit campsite, the mountain was a dense black emptiness.

  “What time is it?” Oz asked.

  “Ten to four in the morning,” moaned Ruff.

  “Right, we’ve got about two hours until it gets light.” Oz reached into his pocket for the pebble. He felt immensely reassured when his fingers found it, and he pressed the maker’s mark. The tickle in his head was welcomingly warm.

  “Soph,” Oz muttered, forgetting to think it. “Can you help us? I need to see.”

  “Of course,” Soph said in Oz’s head.

  Instantly, everything went a strange tinge of green in Oz’s vision. At the same time, he could see every hillock and outcrop, every path and footstep.

  “Right,” he said to the others. “I’ve got night vision. Ellie, you follow me. Ruff at the back.”

  “This is buzzard squared,” Ruff warbled.

  “Shut up and come on.” Ellie grabbed his arm and pulled him forward.

  Quietly, without any fuss, Soph explained to Oz that she had set up a holoshield, so anyone looking at where the three of them now stood would see nothing but the outline of tents. Behind it, Oz, Ellie, and Ruff slipped out of the encampment, and within seconds, the darkness of the Black Mountains swallowed them up.

  Chapter 19

  Stewart And Ogilvie

  They followed the footprints out onto the mountain, walking quickly to keep warm. Oz scanned the countryside, but there was no sign of the two running figures. The moon was still playing a tantalising game of hide-and-seek with the clouds, but as they crested a rise and Ellie stopped so they could take some water from the bottle she’d remembered to bring, the clouds broke open once again to light up a breathtaking landscape. Oz’s vision reverted seamlessly to normal as he took in the expanse of silver and deep indigo that stretched away in every direction. The high moor was like a lake of pearl with frozen waves, white-tipped where the snow had settled on the tussocks. Far off to their right, yellow-and-orange lights twinkled in farmhouses and cottages on the other side of the valley, but to the east, great dark shadows of granite grew out of the moor like slumbering giants.

  “Wow,” Ellie said as she took it all in, the word escaping in a steamy plume from her mouth.

  “So, are we just going to keep chasing after Skelton and the Beast or what?” Ruff asked.

  Adjusting her level of brightness so as not to bleach out the moonlight, Soph appeared next to them.

  “Soph?” Oz asked.

  “As you are aware, I am able to scan for molybdenum silicate alloys within a maximum radius of two hundred metres.”

  “She means the ring,” Ellie said to Ruff.

  “Two hundred metres?” scoffed Ruff. “But this place is massive. I mean, where do we start?”

  “McClelland visited this area because of his deep interest in walking and archaeology,” Soph explained. “He kept returning to this area because he had found something. He writes of Druidic burial chambers in his notes. I also believe that, if he were being pursued, he would have made for one of these sites to hide himself.”

  “So where, exactly, are they?” Ellie asked.

  “I do not know, Ellie. Hamish McClelland did not appear to use map references. He refers only to names—Stewart and Ogilvie.”

  “Great,” Ruff said with a distinct lack of enthusiasm, in a voice quivering with cold.

  “So, we’re looking for two burial chambers, one called Stewart and one Ogilvie?” Oz pondered.

  “They are common Scottish names,” Soph said.

  “But they could be anywhere,” Ruff whined, stamping up and down to keep warm.

  “Maybe Stewart and Ogilvie are clues to something else,” Oz said. “Was there anything on the archive? Did he have a Facebook page?”

  “I have searched for cross-references and there are none. Mc
Clelland used the department’s computer to compose his thesis but did not use it for anything else, apart from backing up his mobile phone address book.”

  “So, were there phone numbers for Stewart and Ogilvie?” asked Ellie. Oz and Ruff looked at her quizzically. “Well, what else do you suggest?”

  Soph’s eyes flashed silver next to them, and Oz knew she was seeking the answer to Ellie’s question. “There are two six-digit numbers listed under Stewart and Ogilvie.886191 and 888127.”

  “No code?” Ruff asked.

  “No.”

  “Maybe they’re local numbers. Where did McClelland come from, again?” Ellie asked.

  “Edinburrrgh,” Ruff said through chattering teeth.

  “There are no Edinburgh numbers with this listing,” Soph said.

  “Damn,” Oz said. He was beginning to feel frozen, too. Standing here like this was not doing his circulation any good. His feet were rapidly turning into blocks of ice. One look at Ruff told him he was feeling exactly the same. Oz felt frustration bubble up inside him. They’d come so far, and yet now that they were here, they had no idea of where to go.

  “Come on, guys, think,” he urged.

  “Well, they’re Scottish names, aren’t they?” Ellie reasoned. “So maybe he didn’t bother to write down the area code because he knew it so well.”

  “Can we go now, please? I’m freezing here.” Ruff shivered.

  “Unless…” Ellie said and didn’t finish the sentence as she frowned in concentration.

  “What?”

  “Unless they aren’t phone numbers. Maybe they’re code numbers. Bank accounts or PINs or…”

  “Grid references!” Ruff yelled, loud enough to make the others jump. “How stupid are we? Soph, what’s the national grid reference code for this area?”

  “SO,” Soph said.

  “Stewart and Ogilvie,” Ellie said, grinning.

  “So, the numbers are grid references,” Ruff said. “Simple, really.”

  Oz stared at him. “Ruff, you’re a genius.”

  Ellie was less complimentary. “How do you know about grid references? You can’t even remember the way to the bus station in Seabourne.”

  “Ah well, Miss Clever Clogs, in Road to Oblivion—it’s called that ’cos there’s been this huge war and all the roads and stuff have gone, so—”

  “I should have known,” Ellie said, folding her arms across herself.

  “I’m only explaining how I know about it,” Ruff said, adding a petulant sigh. “What was the first number again?”

  Soph said, “886191.”

  “Right,” Ruff went on. “So, 88 marks the square running from east to west, and the 6 after it means it’s just over halfway along. The 19 gives the Northing square, and 1 means it’s just a bit north of the lower edge of that square.”

  Oz was staring at him.

  “You can’t even get past the first level of Road to Oblivion unless you know how to map-read,” Ruff explained with a shrug.

  Soph’s silver eyes lit up. “I calculate that one of these grid references is two and a half miles northeast from here.” She turned, and a beam of light shot out from her eyes across the moor.

  “The footprints go more or less that way,” Oz said, looking down.

  Ellie nodded. “So, what are we waiting for?”

  As Oz made to move away, he felt Ruff’s hand on his arm. Oz turned and saw that his friend’s face bore a pale mixture of dread and discomfort. Although he’d had the itchiest feet all of a minute ago, suddenly he didn’t seem that eager. “Do we really have to go into some graveyard? I mean they’re usually full of dead people,” he hissed, trying not to let Soph hear.

  “Don’t tell me,” Ellie said. “In Burial Ground 5, Revenge of the Neanderthal Zombies, there are these three kids on a mountain and…”

  Ruff sent her a reproachful glance. “Maybe it’s sacred,” he argued.

  “And maybe if we stay here any longer, my nose will drop off,” Ellie said, sniffing.

  “She’s right; we have to move,” Oz said. “We’ll freeze if we stay here any longer.”

  They set off with a reluctant Ruff at the rear. After ten minutes, Oz could feel his body warming up under his jacket as he hurried to keep up with Soph. Their path took them down into a shallow gap and up a rise, where another expanse of flat moor lay ahead of them. They followed the footprints across the undulating terrain, and after a while Oz realised they were on a broad path of sorts, set above the surrounding landscape, that stretched ahead of them into another descent.

  “Is this some sort of road we’re on?” Oz asked Soph, who was drifting along ahead of them as a gleaming red beacon, matching their pace exactly.

  “Limestone was quarried here many years ago, and there are many abandoned kilns. The lime was transported on trams. We are walking along one such tramway,” Soph explained.

  “Couldn’t they make them flat?” Ruff gasped from behind them as the tramway rose again towards yet another ridge.

  “At least we’re not freezing anymore,” Oz said, tugging at the scarf he’d tied around his neck to let in some cool air. He waited for Ruff to come back with another whinge but almost collided with Ellie, who had suddenly stopped in her tracks.

  “Look,” she whispered and pointed towards a low cairn to one side of the tramway just a few yards away. “That looks like… Oh, sugar!”

  Oz followed her pointing finger. Another wave of moonlight had suddenly washed over them and bathed their surroundings in platinum.

  “A body,” breathed Ruff from over Oz’s shoulder.

  “Come on,” Oz said, and started running.

  Their feet crunched across the frozen grass and up a steep slope to where the figure lay in a heap.

  “It’s Skelton,” Oz said as they got near enough to make out the colouring and detail of his coat and hat.

  It was indeed their science teacher. He lay face down on the snowy ground, and in the light provided by Soph, Oz knelt and saw a nasty gash on the right side of his temple.

  “Is he okay?’ Ruff asked anxiously.

  “Looks like he’s been knocked out,” Oz said.

  Quickly, Ellie knelt next to him. She slipped off her gloves and felt for a pulse at Skelton’s neck.

  “Yeah,” Ellie said. “His pulse is a bit slow, and he’s icy cold.”

  Oz got up and examined the cairn. Something dark glistened on a stone. “Look, there’s blood here. I reckon he must have fallen and hit his head.”

  “But where’s the Beast?” Ruff scanned the moorland wildly for any sign of movement.

  Oz shook his head as he, too, looked about him. “Dunno. Looks like it got away.”

  “Look,” Ellie said. “The footsteps go off down the valley.”

  The others followed her gaze and saw the dark prints veering off the tramway path, down into a shadowy col.

  “I’m not going down there,” Ruff said, taking a step back.

  Oz nodded. He had to agree with Ruff. Suddenly, everything seemed very complicated.

  “Soph, which way is the reference point again?”

  “It is a mile northeast.” A thin beam of light shot out from Soph’s eyes again. Its direction, however, was at right angles to the footsteps leading off downhill. “I am picking up faint alloy readings in that direction also.”

  “The ring?” Ellie asked.

  “I would need to be closer to know for certain.”

  “What about Skelton?” Oz said.

  Ellie thought and then said, “We can’t carry him back to camp, and we can’t take him with us. I reckon we should wrap him up and come back for him once we’ve been to fetch the ring.”

  Oz nodded. Cold was Skelton’s worst enemy. But Ellie was already taking out a survival blanket from her backpack. It was a light, thin, metal-foil-coated sheet designed to reduce heat loss and wind chill. Ellie quickly unfolded it and, with Ruff and Oz’s help, managed to get it underneath Skelton. They did the same thing with Oz’s. When they
’d finished, their fingers were numb.

  “Okay, let’s go,” Oz said, slipping his hands into his gloves and giving Skelton one last glance. He looked almost cosy lying there wrapped in two blankets on the snow.

  They set off once more, following Soph’s lead. She had dimmed again into a red shadow. With the moon now firmly behind a new blanket of cloud, Oz had reverted to his greenish night vision. The wind came from the north in icy gusts, making the skin on their faces raw and their lips numb. Oz’s world remained green and grey, a landscape criss-crossed by sheep tracks and dotted with tumbledown stone huts and craggy outcrops. Up here on the high moor, way above the roads and the sheep farms, was an alien landscape where few people ever ventured.

  Even as they made headway into the last mile, the sky was changing. A thin line of magenta was just becoming visible on the eastern horizon, the first sign of the approaching dawn. Yet it took them almost half an hour to reach their destination, largely because the last three hundred metres was a steep ascent across an escarpment. At one point, Ellie stopped and grabbed Oz’s arm.

  “Listen,” she said.

  “What is it?” Ruff said.

  “Thought I heard something. Rocks falling behind us, high up?”

  But when Oz listened, all he could hear was the moaning wind.

  “Sheep, maybe?” Ruff asked hopefully.

  “Sheep don’t clamber over the tops of rocks,” Ellie said. Ruff sent her a dread-laden glare.

  In the east, the magenta line was turning into a washed-out blue. Gradually, the grey and unformed landscape took shape as light leached slowly back into the world.

  “How much farther, Soph?” Oz asked.

  “One hundred metres up this slope,” Soph said.

  “So, that’ll take us to McClelland’s beauty spot, but what about the ring?” Ellie asked.

  “I have very strong readings in this vicinity, Ellie.”

  “Really? You mean it’s here?” Ellie was suddenly animated.

  A track took them diagonally across the southern face of the slope, featureless except for some stunted trees and craggy outcrops. Halfway across, Oz stopped, surveying his surroundings.