Faster Than Lightning

by Pam Harvey

  Carefully at first, Angus pushed against the gutter, stretching himself up. Rolling gently onto his stomach, he started inching his way back up the slope of the roof, but the tiles were slippery and the pain in his hand was screaming at him to stop.

  ‘Wait for the ladder,’ Tom Bentley yelled through the broken window.

  Angus ignored him. Slowly, he crawled back towards the top, his left hand leaving a bloody smear on the tiles. Swinging himself over the apex of the roof, he quickly took in the scene below. King was thrashing around in fright.

  There was a red brick chimney halfway down the other side of the tiles. Angus aimed and slid feet-first towards it. A cry of pain floated over from the yard where the two men held King.

  ‘Get ’em, King,’ Angus muttered to himself, sliding down the last part of the roof and onto a flat, square section. He scrambled over the edge, using two pipes to help him down to the ground—and straight into the rough hands of one of the men who’d been holding King.

  ‘Ya bloody nuisance! What the hell you playing at?’

  ‘King!’ Angus yelled, struggling to break free.

  He swiped at the man with his bleeding hand, smearing his weathered face with sticky red blood. Surprised, the man let go.

  Angus dashed past him.

  ‘King!’ he yelled again, charging around the corner to his horse. King dropped to all fours, pushing his nose into Angus’s chest.

  ‘Good boy, King.’ Angus grabbed the saddle with his right hand, and tried to clamber up onto the horse. His left hand felt thick and useless with pain.

  ‘Stop!’ a voice boomed twenty metres behind him.

  Angus glanced at the man with the bucket and saw that the shiny thing was just a penknife. He hesitated, but Tom Bentley was striding purposefully towards him.

  King arched his neck around and nuzzled at Angus. It was the encouragement he needed to scramble up and into the saddle. He gathered the reins with his good hand, nestling the other beneath his right armpit. He nudged King with his heels and the horse cantered smoothly away from their pursuers.

  Behind them, a motorbike revved.

  ‘C’mon, King,’ Angus yelled.

  King thrust his head forward and bolted. Angus hung on grimly as the horse hurtled through an open gate and charged across a paddock. The motorbike roared menacingly, getting louder by the second.

  The pain in his hand was unbelievable, stabbing him at every movement of the horse. Angus slumped forward, a wave of dizziness and sickness sweeping over him. He felt himself slipping sideways and clutched frantically at King’s mane. It took all his will to haul himself back into the saddle. King felt the shifting weight on his back, and eased up slightly.

  The motorbike surged forward with a sudden burst of acceleration, coming up alongside them. For a few moments, horse and bike raced side by side, both churning up clods of loose grass and earth. Too late Angus realised what the rider was doing: King was drifting closer and closer to the fence line on their right. They were being hemmed in.

  ‘Stop!’ yelled the motorcyclist. He said something else, but Angus couldn’t understand for the noise.

  He glanced about desperately, knowing that in another few seconds he’d have to pull up, or risk being pushed into the wire fence. The situation was worse than he’d thought: they were heading for the corner of the paddock. Now he’d definitely have to pull up: jumping a horse over a barbed-wire fence was too risky—if King even touched the top wire, his legs could be ripped to pieces.

  The motorbike was so close that Angus could feel the heat from its engine on his face. Suddenly a firm hand grabbed his leg. He kicked out with his foot, losing his hold on the reins. The rider let go, his bike swerving dangerously, just as King was putting on an extra spurt. Angus looked up just in time to see the fence only metres ahead of them. The reins flapped uselessly along King’s neck. Angus sensed the bike spinning away from them as his horse leapt high into the air.

  Angus closed his eyes momentarily, a burst of pain searing through his badly gashed hand as he gripped the mane tightly, urging King to get his legs clear of the rusting wire below. King landed easily, picking up his stride again, the fence untouched behind them.

  ‘Well done, King,’ Angus said, patting the side of the horse’s neck. He turned to survey the damage they’d left at the fence. The motorbike had skidded into a post. The rider was on his feet glaring at them.

  ‘Ya forgot ya helmet, ya stupid kid.’

  Angus turned to see his helmet being thrown in his direction, but he wasn’t going back for it now.

  It was a simple jump after that to clear a bit of white railing that was being repaired and Angus guided King onto the dirt road that led into town. The pain in his hand didn’t seem as bad now that they were free, and Angus grinned to himself.

  But something weird was going on at the stud farm. Hannah was clued-up—she’d help him figure it out.

  Chapter 9

  Tamworth Street, Teasdale: Monday afternoon

  ‘Can you come over?’ Hannah said when Angus had finished telling her the whole story on the phone. ‘Gabby and Ling have invited themselves around.’

  ‘You might as well ring E.D. too,’ Angus suggested.

  ‘You can do that.’

  He wrapped his hand up in a bit of bandage, brushed King down and resaddled him, and rode to Hannah’s. His father wasn’t home and Angus felt too nervous to leave King alone. In a way, he was glad his dad hadn’t been there when he’d returned: it had given him a chance to settle both himself and his horse down. And he was worried that Tom Bentley might have called about the broken window.

  The others were already at Hannah’s when he got there. Sean pounced on King, leading him around the back to graze on the lawn. King didn’t seem to mind the small boy handling him. Sean was in seventh heaven.

  Ling took one look at Angus’s hand and asked Hannah for a first-aid kit.

  ‘So I guess I’d be an idiot for suggesting that maybe now it’s time you went to the police,’ Gabby said, watching Ling expertly bandage the wound.

  ‘What do I say?’ Angus began, looking up from the white gauze wrapped around his palm. ‘They’ve got a lab, they locked me up for breaking in, I thought they were going to hurt King and they chased me on a motorbike…to return my helmet.’

  Gabby shrugged.

  ‘They’re up to something, though. They must be.’

  ‘They can’t lock you up like that. I say we go up there and stir ’em up a bit.’ E.D. moved to the window and glared out. Seeing the deep cut on Angus’s hand had made him angry.

  Angus could see that E.D. wished he’d been there to help him out. He stood up, gently fingering his bandaged hand. Ling shut the first-aid box with a snap.

  ‘Give it to us again, Angus,’ E.D. said, turning around. ‘From the beginning.’

  ‘Right. Well, it all goes back to that suspicious bit of behaviour going on at the track yesterday when we found the phone. I’ve been thinking about it. I reckon they—’

  ‘Who?’ Ling interjected.

  ‘Um, the new people up at McCann’s.’

  ‘You reckon they were the ones at the track?’ Hannah frowned.

  ‘Yes. And there’s definitely something going on. There are scientist-type people and a laboratory. Hannah, it was your mum’s friend Natasha Miller that got me thinking. All that talk about making dead things come alive. That’s what I reckon they’re up to.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Hannah asked.

  ‘Well, I reckon they’re doing something to the horses—like Lightning Strikes. It’s a really professional set-up.’

  ‘But Lightning Strikes wasn’t any good,’ Gabby said. ‘He didn’t win the race yesterday.’

  ‘I reckon Lightning Strikes is very good. I reckon the jockey was holding him back. I was watching him through Hannah’s glasses.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ E.D. interrupted.

  ‘It was expertly done. But I just happened to be watching him closely rig
ht at that moment round the back bend.’

  ‘Have we got proof?’ Ling asked.

  ‘Only what I’ve seen,’ said Angus, frowning. He suddenly struck his forehead with his hand, making Ling jump. ‘I am such an idiot! Lightning Strikes was that horse I had trouble with on the track. There were ten riders surrounding him, making my horse nervous. I’m sure I saw that he had two white socks. Then he turns up on race day and I see him getting his legs painted black. Then he’s held back. And with white socks, Lightning Strikes is the same horse that we saw on the internet site!’

  ‘But that horse was called Gale Force,’ Ling said.

  ‘That’s my point. Lightning Strikes is Gale Force! He’s the same! There’s no history of his parentage—his pedigree is probably faked.’

  ‘Are you saying,’ said Hannah slowly, ‘that Lightning Strikes is a clone?’

  There was a silence as Angus stared at her. Then he nodded. ‘When I’m down at the track tomorrow with Dad, I’m going to see if he’s there again.’

  ‘You aren’t going alone this time.’ E.D. thumped the wall. ‘I’m going with you.’

  ‘Me too,’ Hannah said.

  ‘Sorry, guys, I can’t come. I’ve got training.’ Gabby flicked her hair over her shoulders. ‘Swimming training,’ she added, noticing the looks.

  ‘Can I come?’ Ling asked.

  ‘Sure. Great idea.’ Angus smiled at her shyly. ‘Thanks for fixing my hand.’

  Gabby looked across at Angus, then back to Ling.

  ‘Well, actually, I sometimes don’t swim on a Monday. One day off is okay.’ Gabby clapped her hands. ‘So what time do we go trackside?’

  ‘Five-thirty,’ Angus said, moving to the door. It was time he was back home and helping Dad with the jobs.

  ‘What?’ gasped Gabby. ‘That’s even earlier than I swim!’

  ‘You heard him,’ E.D. said, following Angus to the door.

  ‘Let’s go. See ya later.’ Angus lifted his injured hand to the girls; Ling was the only one to wave back.

  ‘How you going to explain that?’ E.D. asked when they were outside, nodding at Angus’s hand.

  ‘Caught it on some wire. It’s nothing.’ Angus smiled as Sean led King away. ‘Thanks, Sean. You’re the best.’

  ‘No worries, Angus. You want me to ride him home for you? What with your sore hand and stuff?’

  ‘Good idea, mate. That’d be great.’

  Angus and E.D. hoisted Sean up into the saddle, then Angus got on behind him. King walked calmly home, paying little attention to Sean’s wayward kicks, urges and shaking of the reins.

  Angus’s dad was heading out for some stores when they arrived.

  ‘What’s happened to you?’ Mr MacDonald paused to look at Angus’s hand.

  ‘Fence.’ Angus nodded vaguely towards the paddocks.

  His father nodded. ‘Run you home, Sean?’

  ‘Thanks, Mr Mac’. Sean reluctantly slid off King. ‘And thanks, Angus.’

  ‘No worries.’

  ‘Won’t be long,’ Mr Mac called, leaning out his side window and reversing down the driveway. Angus watched the car pull away.

  Long enough to get a story from Sean, Angus thought. It was lucky Hannah’s brother didn’t know much more than Angus had already told his dad.

  Teasdale Racecourse, Teasdale: Tuesday morning

  It was cool at five-thirty in the morning. Angus and his father had only one horse at the racecourse and Angus had already ridden him. Mr Mac was on the other side of the track, inspecting a friend’s new horse. Angus rested against the truck until Hannah appeared.

  ‘Are the others coming?’ he asked.

  ‘I doubt it, though Ling sounded keen.’ Hannah shivered. ‘What about E.D.?’

  Angus shrugged. ‘He said he was turning up. Let’s go take a look at Lightning Strikes.’

  ‘Hey, guys! Wait up,’ someone called from between two horse floats, waving an arm.

  ‘Déjà vu,’ Hannah muttered, as Gabby appeared. ‘Where’s Ling?’

  ‘Still sleeping. I couldn’t bear waking her. Guess she’s not used to the early mornings like us.’

  ‘We’re just going to have a quick look at Lightning Strikes. Keep your mouth closed and your head down,’ Hannah said, certain that having Gabby along meant trouble. Gabby went to speak but Hannah rested a hand on her wrist.

  There was plenty happening at the stables. Horses, trainers and strappers were everywhere. No one paid any attention to the three as they walked along behind the stalls.

  Gabby’s nose wrinkled at the smell. She noticed that the others didn’t seem concerned about the huge hunks of manure all over the ground and the stench in the air. They stopped at one of the stables.

  ‘Disgusting,’ she hissed, looking at the ground.

  ‘It’s Lightning Strikes,’ Angus whispered, ignoring Gabby. ‘C’mon.’ They crept into the wooden stall, its floor covered in soft, thick, brown sawdust.

  The horse was massive, bigger than King. Gabby gasped at the bulging veins and solid muscles. ‘My God,’ she whispered.

  ‘He’s exactly like Gale Force,’ Angus muttered.

  Hannah swallowed. She’d thought King was big—until now. Angus calmly walked over to the horse, talking quietly. The horse nodded once or twice as he put his hand out to stroke it.

  ‘What now?’ Hannah whispered. ‘We should’ve brought a camera.’

  ‘We can use my mobile,’ Gabby said loudly, pulling it out of her shirt pocket. Angus and Hannah glared at her. ‘You want me to take some snaps of the horse?’ she added, more quietly.

  ‘That’d be great.’ Angus nodded. ‘Try and get a shot of—’

  They all turned at the noise from the stable door.

  ‘Here, what are you kids doing?’

  Gabby shoved the phone into her pocket. A short guy with a mean-looking face and tattoos on his bare arms strode over and grabbed her arm. Angus swore under his breath. It was stupid to have snuck into the stable like this.

  ‘Jim!’ the man shouted. ‘Get in here.’

  Angus charged at him, hoping that he’d break the guy’s hold on Gabby, but he bounced off and fell back onto the soft floor. He scrambled up quickly.

  ‘Angus! Quick!’ yelled Hannah from the gate. The man turned to make a lunge at Hannah and Gabby felt the grip on her arm slacken slightly. She kicked out with all her might, landing a sharp blow on the man’s shins. At the same time she flung her arms out. The man let go with a gasp of pain. Angus shot past him.

  Gabby burst out of the stable a moment after the others, but immediately crashed into another man with a stomach bulging out of a dark blue singlet like a mountain of flesh.

  She’d hit a vertical trampoline. Gabby rebounded three metres straight back into the stable, collapsing in a heap on the sawdust. The enormous horse bent down to sniff her gently.

  ‘I’ll lock her up in the float and then I’ll get the other kids,’ Jim snarled.

  He slapped a hand over Gabby’s mouth, then bent close to her ear.

  ‘One stupid move from you and you’ll still be lying in a hospital bed at Christmas—you got me?’

  Gabby nodded, wide-eyed, too afraid to speak.

  Hannah had followed Angus into a stable three down. He led a horse into the corner and pulled Hannah in so they were hiding behind it. A moment later, the smaller man glanced in, then ran on.

  ‘What about Gabby?’ Hannah asked urgently. ‘That other guy caught her.’

  Angus looked at a small window above him. ‘Here, give me a bunk up,’ he said quietly. Hannah joined her hands and Angus hoisted himself towards the window. He peered out the opening. Jim was walking back towards the stables, alone. ‘Push me higher,’ Angus urged Hannah. He levered himself up to the level of the opening. ‘Wait here. If Florentine moves, you won’t have any cover. Then you’d better run for it.’

  ‘Who’s Flor—?’

  ‘The horse!’

  Hannah crouched back against the wall as Angus squeez
ed himself through the opening. He jumped down lightly, quickly looked around, and ran off along the back of the stables. A large horse truck was parked there and he dived under it, crawling beneath the cabin.

  The rumble of its engine made him jump, hitting his head on the chassis. Lying on the ground, he made himself as flat as possible so he wasn’t touching any part of the vehicle. The wheels began to move. Angus froze. The truck moved faster. He lay still and breathed out, trying to make himself as thin as he could. Then the truck started to turn.

  Two massive wheels were heading for his feet. He flung himself to his left and the tyres turned just centimetres from his body. But now he was in the line of the back wheels. He recoiled to the right, but not before the back right tyres had caught his shirt. Panic rippled through him and he pulled uselessly. He closed his eyes, waiting for the crunch of his shoulder being crushed. But as quickly as it had started, the truck suddenly jerked to a stop. Angus breathed out and opened his eyes. He was stuck under 5 tonnes of horse truck, but at least he wasn’t squashed.

  ‘’Ere, Griff, you seen a couple of kids running about?’

  Angus recognised Jim’s rough voice.

  ‘Nah, mate. What’s up?’

  ‘Never mind.’

  Jim walked away from the truck. Angus could just see his boots. They were joined by a smaller pair. ‘Where is she?’

  Angus strained around and glimpsed the short guy from the stable.

  ‘I’ve locked her in Lightning’s float. Have you got the others?’ Jim asked.

  ‘No sign of ’em. C’mon.’

  The engine revved and the truck rumbled forward again, releasing Angus’s shirt. Quick as a flash, he rolled out, jumped to his feet and began jogging beside the vehicle. He was shielded from the men’s view, but the truck was gaining speed. He went with it for 50 metres, then suddenly he was running along a dirt road alone. Dust stung his eyes and burned his throat.

  He darted over to the other side and hurled himself into the bushes, waiting for Jim’s shout. Surely he would have been seen crossing the road. But the shout never came. Instead, he heard a girl’s long, ear-piercing scream.