Jet Skis, Swamps & Smugglers

by Robert Muchamore

  Robin hadn’t practised his judo since forever but instinctively hooked his foot around his attacker’s ankle and swept out her leg. As she stumbled backwards Neo made sure she hit the deck by barging her and tore the wrench out of her hand as he charged on.

  Fortunately the chefs and waiters at the back of the boat didn’t want to get involved and the engineer in the long gloves had stumbled as he missed a step on the way down from the bridge.

  A two-person refuelling team had arrived on the dock, but the one who thought about tackling Robin as he sprinted across the gantry to the shore bottled it when he saw Neo’s sturdy frame wielding the giant wrench.

  Robin started a run towards the gate where Swamp King’s berth met the main walkway through the dock, but two beefy security guards were storming it.

  ‘Down on the ground!’ one shouted, as she pulled a bright yellow stun gun off her belt. ‘First and final warning.’

  Robin glanced back at Neo.

  ‘How’s your swimming?’ Neo asked, as he peered over the railing into cloudy water.

  ‘Average,’ Robin said, though his face suggested that was optimistic.

  But the guards were steps from being in range to shoot metal barbs, connected to a wire that delivered 50,000 volts, so Robin vaulted the fence and splashed into water ten metres below.

  Neo landed behind, holding his backpack with the precious navigation unit to his chest so it didn’t flood. The eighteen-year-old had done advanced swimming and lifesaving training before being allowed out in a Delta Rescue dinghy and immediately realised Robin was shocked by the cold as a wave knocked them away from the dock.

  ‘We’re OK,’ Neo said, as Robin spluttered. ‘Breathe normal.’

  Neo used his free arm to grip the back of Robin’s shirt and pull him in close. Then he kicked expertly, ducking under a wave before guiding Robin around so he could grab one of the dock’s thick wooden posts.

  Robin glanced up. He saw there were cross-beams spanning the pilings that held up the pier, and two guards and several other people were peering over the railings. He climbed effortlessly up the slippery wooden post, then grabbed a cross-beam and balanced on top.

  Neo looked up from the water. ‘I think I’m better swimming.’

  As Neo moved his backpack onto his chest and swam towards shore in a rapid backstroke, Robin went in the same direction by clambering through the dock’s chunky supports.

  While guards up top called the cops, Robin reached a six-metre gap where Swamp King’s berth met the dock’s floating walkway.

  Robin thought about a leap and a short swim, but the underside of the dock’s wooden deck had a series of pipes that fed water, fuel and power to the boats. As Neo swam efficiently below, Robin tested the pipes for strength, then gripped the back of a thick fuel hose and went hand-over-hand with legs dangling.

  It took all the grip in Robin’s fingers, and he didn’t dare grab or grasp because he could see the people who were looking for him through gaps in the wooden deck above. He slipped on dark green algae when he landed on one of the giant plastic mushrooms that supported the floating walkway, but after a scary couple of seconds his fingers found a protruding bolt and he steadied himself on a ledge.

  Helpfully the next post had a set of climbing rungs, and Robin’s head bobbed up on the far side of the footpath. After making sure nobody was paying attention, he slithered over a fence and realised he was in the spot with the benches where he’d sat eating donuts minutes earlier.

  The captain had rushed back when she heard the horn blast and was haranguing her staff for letting the boys sneak on board, while one of the security guards tried to calm her down by telling her that the dock had been sealed and police were nearby.

  Water streamed out of Robin’s backpack and he realised he’d smashed Diogo’s sunglasses as he straightened up. He had no chance of blending in while he was dripping wet, so there was no reason not to sprint.

  The walkway was clear, and Robin was delighted when he glanced back and saw that he hadn’t been spotted. But as he neared the shore, a body shot out from between two wooden kiosks.

  Robin fell hard, scraping his knee on the wooden deck, as the woman jumped on his back. When she rolled Robin over, he saw CHEAP DAY TRIPS stretched across her chest.

  ‘Caught the little guy!’ Starlet McGill shouted.

  She pinned one of Robin’s arms, but he gripped her hair with his other hand and ripped out a chunk of hair extensions. Then as Starlet yelped, she saw Robin’s algae and birdcrap-smeared hand come towards her face and instinctively recoiled.

  The motion gave Robin enough space to thrust his torso upwards and knock Starlet away. She tried to get an arm around his neck as he stood, but he spun free.

  Robin’s relief was short-lived, because a guard tasked with blocking the dock’s entrance fired her stun gun at him. But her aim was low and Robin hurdled, making the bolt shoot between his legs and clank into a rotating sign offering two-for-one swamp tours. As Robin looked behind, he saw the captain and the other two guards sprinting towards him. Robin figured it was better to fight one guard than three and charged the woman who’d tried to zap him.

  The stun gun dropped to the ground as Robin collided with the guard. He thought about picking it up, but it skimmed under the side rail and dropped into the water. He stumbled on, gasping, to the spot where the walkway met the beach. Tourists stood about gawping as he saw Neo staggering up the beach with sand coating his legs.

  ‘OK?’ Robin gasped.

  ‘For now,’ Neo answered.

  But there were three people chasing from the dock, and a police van screeching to a halt by the taxi rank on the far side of the old car park.

  26. LEGENDARY FOOTAGE

  ‘Where are you going?’ Neo shouted, as Robin sprinted purposefully across the sand. ‘There’s a vanload of cops up there!’

  Robin’s shoes squelched as he took a dramatic leap onto South Strip Archery’s tall wire fence.

  He yelled, ‘Don’t shoot!’ as he leaped down in the middle of an archery range.

  ‘I can’t climb that,’ Neo shouted, as two burly security guards and the captain of Swamp King closed in. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Meet me around the front, by the gift shop,’ Robin shouted back.

  The archery range was holding a beginners’ lesson for six-to-eight-year-olds. A youthful instructor in one of the range’s branded shirts planted hands on hips and yelled, ‘Excuse me, young man,’ as Robin sprinted towards the little archers at the shooting end.

  ‘Gimme!’ Robin said, as he snatched a pastel pink starter bow from a startled-looking kid and grabbed a handful of battered arrows out of a bucket. ‘I’m sorry!’

  A bulkier instructor tried to block Robin’s path as he headed for the shop.

  ‘Put that bow down, boy.’

  For a kid living life on the run, Robin Hood was blessed with the kind of face that nobody seemed to recognise. But that changed the second you put a bow in his hand.

  ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone,’ Robin said, as he notched one arrow in his bow, slotted three more between his fingers and aimed at the instructor’s toes. ‘These don’t look too sharp, but they’ll still go through your shoe at this range.’

  ‘Robin Hood?’ the man gawped.

  And behind, the little archers chattered.

  It’s Robin Hood.

  Robin!

  He took my bow!

  It’s not your bow, it belongs to the shop . . .

  The instructor backed up with surrender hands and an automatic door let Robin into the shop. Air conditioning sent a shiver down his wet back as he glanced around the brightly lit space.

  The crowd was kids and parents, looking at a mix of archery gear and cheesy merch, like target-shaped fridge magnets and teddies with bows and quivers on their backs. The stuff Robin was after was behind the counter and he startled an elderly cashier as he slid across a glass countertop.

  ‘What in the name of God . .�
��. ?’

  A fellow with leathery skin and an exotic tourbillon watch managed to grab the back of Robin’s shorts. He kicked the man off, then shot him in the shoulder, though the pink kiddie bow was only powerful enough to leave a dull arrow sticking out of his shoulder muscle.

  ‘Do you know who I am?’ the man roared furiously, as he stumbled backwards, knocking baskets of erasers and target tea towels onto the floor.

  ‘Mum, it’s Robin Hood!’ a kid with a bow shouted.

  Robin snatched a carbon-fibre recurve bow from a hook on the wall, then spotted boxes of hunting arrows under the counter and ripped one open.

  Some customers had decided to crouch down or hurry out, but several stuck around as if they were witnessing some promotional stunt, and the cashier finished serving her customer before backing into a stockroom and bolting the door.

  ‘Robin,’ Neo yelled breathlessly, as he came in through the archery centre’s front entrance. ‘They’re right behind.’

  Robin wanted to get a feel for his new bow before using it in anger, so he took two quick shots. With the first, he set off fruit-machine sounds by hitting a bullseye on a fancy £499 electronic target at the back of the shop. He decided a little chaos would make escaping easier, so he shot the second into a fire sprinkler in the middle of the ceiling.

  The burst of water made the remaining customers charge for an exit, as Robin shoved an extra box of arrows in his backpack and slid back over the counter.

  ‘We need to move!’ Neo yelled, somewhere between awed and furious.

  Robin peeked out of the front door in both directions. The archery store’s customers were spreading out across the old car park. There was no sign of cops from the van, but Swamp King’s captain and two guards from the dock were shuffling along the outside wall of the archery range.

  To give himself a shooting angle, Robin ran outside and spun around. One guard went for his stun gun, which was a really bad idea for someone facing Robin Hood with a notched arrow.

  As South Strip Archery’s front security camera made a recording that would get ten million views on YouTube, Robin fired three arrows in one second and smashed three kneecaps.

  The captain and the guards groaned in agony as Robin closed down, ready to shoot again if they gave him trouble. He snatched one of the stun guns and threw it to Neo. As Robin backed up, one of the guard’s radios blasted to life.

  ‘This is Skegness control. We have officers on point. Do you have an up-to-date location on the suspects, over.’

  ‘You reply,’ Robin urged Neo. ‘My voice will sound too young.’

  Neo ripped the radio from the writhing guard’s shirt and walked a few metres away from the moans before answering.

  ‘Control, we are chasing both suspects on foot,’ Neo lied. ‘Running west from the pier, over.’

  ‘Roger that. Will send officers in support. Drones and more back-up will be on scene in five minutes.’

  Robin spoke uneasily. ‘Those cops will see people running from the shop, so that won’t buy us much time.’

  ‘I have no idea where to go,’ Neo said, glancing about randomly as he hooked the guard’s radio to his shirt. ‘But we can’t stick around here.’

  27. LOVELY DAY AT THE BEACH

  Robin kept an arrow notched as Neo led the way, jogging past the archery compound to the edge of the sprawling go-kart track.

  Neo paused to look through wire fencing at the taxi rank a hundred metres north. Six chilled cops stood around their van. Rear doors open, they checked weapons and helped fix Velcro straps on each other’s body armour.

  ‘Awaiting orders, I guess,’ Robin said, as Neo marched on.

  Families who’d been in the archery shop were loitering. A loud honk gave both boys a jolt, but whining electric motors made them realise it was a race starting on the kart track.

  ‘Smile, Robin Hood!’ a girl yelled as she straddled a low wall and snapped his picture.

  She was about fourteen, with two goofy pals hanging off her shoulders.

  ‘Sarah’s mental about you!’ the smallest one said. ‘She’s got the unicorn hoodie. And a Robin Hood Lives poster.’

  Two of the girls jogged alongside Robin, while the shyest of the three dropped back, videoing. Neo took another glance over his shoulder and saw that the cashier had emerged from the back room inside the archery store and was waving both arms as she jogged towards the cop van.

  ‘Can I get a selfie?’ one of the girls asked.

  ‘Those cops are gonna move on us at any second,’ Neo said urgently.

  Robin picked up speed, following Neo, but Sarah kept running alongside.

  ‘Are you local?’ Robin asked her. ‘We need to get out of here fast.’

  ‘There’s jet-ski hire down the beach,’ Sarah said, pointing towards the water.

  Robin and Neo stopped running and gawped at each other. They’d seen jet skis while they were eating lunch, but neither had considered them for a getaway.

  ‘You are a real hero, Robin,’ Sarah said seriously. ‘The world needs a lot more people like you.’

  Robin was embarrassed by the compliment, then startled as Sarah kissed his cheek.

  ‘Come on, lover boy!’ Neo shouted, yanking Robin’s arm, then pointing. ‘Jet ski this way.’

  ‘You kissed Robin Hood!’ the other girls shrieked. ‘EEEEEEEE!’

  ‘I’m gonna upload it! My sister will be well jel!’

  As Robin and Neo began a flat-out sprint towards the waterfront, the cops split into three pairs. Two sweeping left, two right, two straight towards them on the path beside the kart track.

  This stretch wasn’t rammed like South Strip’s main beach, but sunbathers took notice and a game of beach cricket halted as Robin and Neo charged between the stumps. Neo was first to the waterfront, and a concrete ramp with a row of parked jet skis.

  The dreadlocked attendant stood in knee-deep water, showing a nervous teen how to work the controls. Both looked startled as Neo hurdled a chain barrier and started pushing a jet ski down the ramp.

  ‘Mister, are you havin’ a laugh?’ the attendant spat furiously.

  ‘I need the key fob, or whatever starts it,’ Neo said, waving the stun gun.

  The attendant didn’t fancy getting zapped. His credit-card machine fell onto the ramp as he fumbled in a vest with rows of little pockets down the front.

  The cops were closing in, so when Robin hit the top of the ramp he dropped on his belly and shot a warning arrow between the two charging officers.

  ‘You’re that Hood fella!’ the attendant blurted, then grinned at Neo. ‘Take the orange ST-140. It’s reliable and I just brimmed the fuel tank.’

  Neo hooked the stun gun on his belt and nodded thanks as the attendant handed him a wireless starter fob. Robin hoped shooting between the cops would make them dive for cover. But they kept running as he whipped two arrows out of his backpack.

  Robin regularly practised shooting standing up, kneeling, hanging upside down and on the run, but the angled ramp was none of those things and felt awkward. He liked to aim for an arm or leg, but those move too fast when someone is running.

  Even with body armour any chest shot is potentially lethal, and since Robin didn’t want cop killer added to his rap sheet, he aimed for the shoulder. His first arrow was perfect, spearing the officer’s armpit and making her twirl like a ballerina before ploughing into sand.

  The second shot felt wrong the instant Robin released. For a horrible moment he thought it might spear the cop’s neck, but the officer had dived when he saw his colleague shot a quarter-second earlier, and the arrow shattered his plastic face visor.

  ‘You are one badass!’ the jet-ski attendant shouted, holding hands up to his face. ‘WHOO!’

  Smashing the visor absorbed most of the arrow’s energy and it had only gone deep enough to split the wobbly cartilage around the officer’s nose. But people screamed – and shot videos on their phones – because the officer thrashing about in the sand with an arr
ow sticking out of a blood-splattered visor was proper horror-movie stuff.

  Robin had no way of knowing the injury was minor and felt shocked. After a brain freeze, he found Neo holding a neon life jacket and tugging him up off the sandy ramp.

  ‘Get up, put this on,’ Neo yelled. Then to the attendant, ‘I’m sorry I pulled the stun gun. Thanks for helping.’

  ‘The boss can kiss my arse,’ the attendant said as he gave Neo a fist bump. ‘Leaving to go backpacking next week anyways.’

  The two-seat ST-140 was in the water with the engine running, but there were four armed cops somewhere nearby and Neo feared a gunshot as Robin spent precious seconds taking off his backpack, pulling on the life vest and then putting the pack back over it.

  ‘Hold on tight,’ Neo ordered, as Robin straddled the back seat. ‘It’s gonna get bumpy.’

  Robin was shocked by the power as the jet ski hit 70 km/h in under three seconds.

  Back on shore, the officer with the split visor got his helmet off, and while a thirteen-year-old shooting arrows at cops wasn’t everyone’s idea of a good thing, the entire beach was on their feet, knowing they’d witnessed headline news.

  Sarah and her two girlfriends joined a group standing on the harbour wall shouting, ‘Robin Hood lives!’ and ‘Robin, we love you!’

  A cop ordered the nervous teen to get off the jet ski. But by the time the officer had mounted it, Neo and Robin had shrunk to a dot and he didn’t like the idea of falling into the delta wearing hefty body armour.

  ‘They’re not coming after us,’ Robin shouted over the engine, as the speeding craft bounced over waves.

  ‘Don’t count your chickens,’ Neo yelled back. ‘They’ll put up drones and we’re cooked if a prowler starts shooting.’

  28. AAAARGH, SNAKES!

  Two drones circled and there was a relatively harmless Skegness Island police boat in the distance as the jet ski beached on a mud bank on the mainland coast. The local heron population didn’t seem impressed as the boys jumped off the noisy craft into ankle-deep water.