Echo McCool, Outlaw Through Time

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Echo McCool, Outlaw Through Time Page 9

by Roger K. Driscoll


  Echo put her boots back on then shuffled around to face him, sitting with the trousers on her lap. “Nay, I need only these breeches. They are made of strong cloth, which I will cut into strips.”

  “How?”

  Echo extended her right hand, palm downwards. Jason hadn’t noticed her unusual thumbnail before. Unlike her short, stubby fingernails it was long, straight-ended and dark in colour.

  “’Tis common among dryads to have such a nail,” she explained. “’Tis as keen as a dagger.”

  With this she began to work away at the trousers, slicing from the waistband in a straight line, all the way down to the end of one leg.

  “Wow!” said Jason. “It’s sharper than a carpet knife!”

  Echo repeated the process then cut away a strip of material no more than a centimetre wide.

  “With many pieces such as this, I can plait them into a sturdy rope.”

  But Jason wasn’t so sure. A rope made from hiking trousers? Would it be strong enough? He watched for what seemed like ages as Echo reduced the entire garment into slices. She discarded the waistband, ending up with fifty or sixty thin individual strips, each about a metre long. She was knotting some of them together, end-to-end, when Jason heard distant voices below. His heart thumped faster, he and Echo sitting absolutely still as Scott and Tiffany returned.

  “Don’t be fooled by Ross Bullivant,” Scott was saying. “He’s not as stupid as he looks. If he says he hasn’t seen the kids, then he hasn’t.”

  Soon the footsteps were below the air-shaft, but Scott and Tiffany carried on walking. Every nerve and muscle in Jason’s body went limp with relief.

  “Looks like we’re safe now,” he whispered. “They’ve given up searching the tunnel.”

  Echo carried on tying her tight knots until she had three separate lengths of material. She collected them up and arranged the three ends on her lap. Then she began to plait them together, the fingers of each hand working so quickly they were almost a blur. In another ten minutes the finished product was ready; a thin rope almost twenty metres long.

  “It will hold, won’t it?” said Jason.

  “For certain,” said Echo. “Now I must widen the hole in the chimney.”

  “Not yet,” said Jason. “I think we should do a gewita, to make sure those two have really gone.”

  Echo nodded and held out a hand. Jason took it and closed his eyes, seeing a sudden, violet flash. Now his astral body was flying like a ghost through the brickwork, whizzing through the tunnel, hand-in-hand with Echo. They emerged at the far end, into the sunlight, drifting down to stand on the old trackbed. Jason blinked, staring all around. He and Echo were in a deep cutting, a line of old telegraph poles along the top at one side.

  “We’ve not been here before,” he said. “This must be at the other end of the tunnel.”

  He let go of her hand and they set off along the trackbed. Soon they were out of the cutting, coming to a row of old loading bays on the left, their crumbling walls gripped with ivy. Jason and Echo jumped up and walked along the edge of one of the bays. At the end, the area opened out into a large, rectangular yard, the ground covered with old railway ballast. In the distance they saw a tall, red-brick building with green window frames and a ramshackle roof. Near the far corner of the yard were five yellow lorries, three of them with skips on board. Beyond them were more skips, and piles of rubbish. Scott and Tiffany were standing at the front of a lorry, speaking to a burly man in jeans and a dark sweatshirt. Jason tried to work out how long ago this was. About twenty minutes, he decided.

  “Let us listen,” Echo said, breaking into a run.

  Jason followed. As he came closer he could read the words, painted on a cab door; Bullivant’s Skips - Waste Disposal. The burly man had dark curly hair, his sleeves rolled up to reveal powerful, tattooed forearms. Jason and Echo stopped a couple of paces away. Though Scott asked the questions, the man’s gaze was on Tiffany.

  “No, I haven’t seen any kids,” he told her. “But I’ll keep a lookout for ’em.”

  “Nice one, Ross,” said Scott. “And if you do see anyone, you’ve got my number.”

  The man’s attention turned to the shotgun in Scott’s hands. “What’s all this about, then?”

  “Just a spot of rabbit shooting,” Scott replied with a wink.

  “Yeah right,” said the man. “But I can’t go searching around for those kids. A driver’s rung in sick for the late shift and I’m run off my feet.”

  “No worries,” Scott said.

  At that moment the man’s mobile rang and he whipped it out of his back pocket.

  “Hello, Bullivant’s Skips,” he said. “Ah, Mr Sangster. Yeah, sorry about the delay. There’s a relief driver on the way but he’ll be at least an hour. No, I can’t deliver it myself.” He glanced towards the nearest lorry. “Yeah, it’s all loaded up and ready.” He paused. “Okay, Geoff, it’ll all be sorted.”

  With that, Ross Bullivant ended the call.

  “Geoff Sangster?” said Scott. “The guy from Wendelford Carr?”

  Ross nodded. “Yeah – do you know him?”

  “Pretty well,” Scott replied. “Through the Landowner’s Association.”

  “A regular punter of mine,” said Ross. “Slow payer, mind you.”

  The lorries began to fade and, suddenly, Jason was weightless again. The gewita whisked him away with Echo… flying… leaving the goods yard behind them… back to the old railway… rushing through the darkness of the tunnel for its whole length… drifting down to stand on the trackbed. Time had moved forward and now they were facing the mouth of the tunnel at the other end. Tiffany emerged from the darkness, Scott switching off the torch as he appeared a moment later.

  “Waste of time,” Tiffany spat. “I bet those kids weren’t in the tunnel at all.”

  “Okay, okay,” said Scott. “We’ll get back to the Land Rover then head home. We’ll ask Maxine – she’ll know what to do.”

  The gewita disappeared as a blaze of white light returned Jason and Echo to the present.

  “We’re definitely safe now,” said Jason, blinking several times, re-orienting himself in the hiding place above the tunnel roof.

  “’Tis time to make the hole wider,” said Echo.

  With one hand holding the rope she edged past him, swivelling around so her feet were facing the side of the air-shaft. She drew her legs back then kicked with all her strength, the soles of her feet slamming against the brickwork. She kicked again, and again, dislodging the bricks around the hole. One-by-one they tumbled away, clattering to the ground below. Jason gulped; it was a long way down. Eventually Echo created an escape route a metre wide and almost as high.

  “Art thou ready?” she asked, threading one end of the rope beneath her armpits then knotting it tightly at her chest.

  “I thought you were supposed to be winching me down,” Jason said.

  “Aye,” said Echo. “But for safety, the rope must also be tethered to me.”

  She secured the other end around Jason in the same way. He could hardly swallow now, his whole body tingling with fear. He had a sudden vision of himself climbing through the hole then the rope snapping, his body dropping like a stone to hit the ground with bone-breaking force.

  “Do not be affrighted,” Echo told him. “Have trust in me, and the rope.”

  Jason’s mouth felt very dry.

  “Okay,” he managed to say.

  Echo moved aside as he crawled to the hole. He turned around and reversed, feeling his feet go over the edge. Echo retreated a metre or so, grabbing the rope to take up the slack. Jason stretched out his arms as he got to his stomach. He inched backwards and soon his knees were at the edge of the hole. Using his elbows he pushed himself further. There came a sudden, horrible moment as his waist came to the edge, his legs dangling down. He closed his eyes, teeth gritted, easing himself further back. The next moment was even more terrifying. His chest hit the edge with a nerve-tingling jolt and his body began to slide.
Now he was clinging to the edge with both hands, hanging from the tunnel roof at full stretch.

  “Thou must let go,” said Echo, pulling on the rope.

  Jason knew he had to trust his friend. He drew in a deep breath, thinking fast, summoning enough courage to open his eyes. One, he counted to himself… two… three! Quickly he released one hand from the edge to grip the rope, then the other. For a panicking moment his body fell again, about a metre, the rope tightening with a sudden jerk. Now he was swinging uselessly in mid-air. Echo kept a strong grip, releasing more rope. Jason began to spin, feeling dizzy as the rope slackened a little, lowering him further. He dared to look down, relieved to see he was almost halfway to the ground. Echo let out yet more rope then called to him.

  “We do not have much left,” she said. “I will untie it from around me, then use only the strength of mine arms.”

  After a few moments the rope slackened again and Jason descended another couple of metres.

  “I think I’ll be okay now,” he called back. “You can let go.”

  “When thou landest on thy feet, bend thy legs at the knees,” Echo shouted. “Then roll onto thy back. I will let go…now!”

  Jason plummeted through the air. He landed heels-first but did as she’d said, rolling over onto his back at the last moment. He lay there wheezing, flat on the ground, limbs stretched out. As the tension in his body slowly disappeared he reminded himself there was no time to waste. He struggled to his feet, untying the rope from around him.

  “We did it!” he yelled, making a fist. “I’m okay!” He looked down at the length of rope. “But how are you going to get down?”

  He craned his neck to see a pair of boots appear at the edge of the hole, followed by Echo’s stripy legs. Next moment she was dangling by her arms.

  “Stand back!” she ordered.

  With this she began to swing back and forth, more and more until her feet almost touched the tunnel roof. Then, with a cry, she let go, somersaulting in mid-air before sailing all the way down to land silently on her feet. She spun around to face Jason, arms out, and he felt like giving her a round of applause.

  “Wow! You’ll have to teach me that trick!”

  As he spoke, the ground shook. The walls and roof of the tunnel quaked, and fragments of brick began to fall. He and Echo stepped back then turned and ran, sprinting away from the air-shaft, away from the increasing noise. Jason stumbled to the ground, striking his knee hard. Echo helped him up and they took off again. Behind them they heard a grinding groan, then a growling clatter. Jason fell again, the ground looming up and crashing into him. He scrambled to his feet, looking back to see a mass of brickwork, shattering and tumbling from the roof around the air-shaft in the distance. He ran again as vast chunks of chalk came next, slamming down in clouds of white dust. Jason’s world was filled with fear. Echo screamed at him to go faster as they continued their desperate escape, looking back once more to see the mounting pile of rubble, glinting in the dusty sunlight beneath the air-shaft. The roof fall stopped as quickly as it started, restricting itself to the very part of the tunnel where they’d been hiding. But they carried on running, heading for the archway of sunlight that marked the end of the tunnel. The daylight engulfed them as they hurtled into the cutting, slowing to a halt on the trackbed where they stood in shocked silence.

  “We…we could have died,” Jason gasped, sickness gripping his throat.

  “Thou wert very brave,” Echo told him.

  Without hesitating, the two of them embraced. Jason felt suddenly safe. This was different to the awkward, embarrassing hug in Witch Wood earlier. He felt intense relief after escaping death in the tunnel, and deep gratitude to his friend for saving him. But it was more than that. This was like the last time he’d clung to Mum and Lauren. The embrace lasted a few more moments before Echo released her grip and drew away.

  “We must go,” she said. “The Bullivant man seeks us here.”

  Bruised and dazed, Jason took stock of his surroundings. He and Echo were at the end of the tunnel near the goods yard. He looked again at his friend. Her face was sweaty and grubby, and she was covered in dust. She was still wearing her green top but, between the tops of her boots and the hem of her dress, her thin mottled legs were exposed.

  “Without the trousers we can’t hide your dryad markings,” he said. “But I’ve had an idea. This way.”

  Echo followed as Jason ran along the trackbed, out of the cutting to the loading bays.

  “We saw all this in the gewita,” Jason said. “Remember when Bullivant was on his mobile?”

  “I did see him speaking into a small object,” Echo said.

  “He’s supposed to be delivering a skip,” said Jason. “One of his men is, anyway, when he gets here. I hope we’re not too late.”

  They crept to the nearest loading bay and climbed up, running along its edge to the end. Jason counted the lorries in the far corner of the goods yard.

  “Great, there’s still five of them,” he said. “That means the man hasn’t gone yet.”

  But Echo’s attention was on the large red building in the distance.

  “Perchance Bullivant is alone in there,” she said. “I could fight him.”

  “No,” said Jason. “Even if you win, and we get away, he’ll still tell the Cobalts. Right now they don’t know where we are – and we should keep it that way.”

  He and Echo jumped back down into the loading bay and out of sight.

  “Here’s the plan,” Jason went on. “In the gewita we saw Bullivant, looking at one of the lorries when he was talking to some customer. I think his name was Sangster, from a place called Wendelford Carr. Sounds like it might be a posh house in town. The lorry will be leaving the yard soon. We’ll sneak round the back of it then climb into the skip and hide. When the driver comes and sets off, he won’t know we’re in there. Once we’re at Sangster’s place we’ll sneak out and hide again. We can’t talk to Sangster, ’cos he knows Scott Cobalt, but we could tell a neighbour what’s happened - someone who’ll believe us. We just need one adult on our side, then maybe the police will listen.”

  “I am most confused by these police people,” said Echo. “Is the Maxine woman not one of them?”

  “Yes, but she’s a bent copper,” Jason reminded her. “Come on.”

  They retraced their steps, out of the loading bay. A line of nearby bushes and elder trees shielded them as they crept back towards the edge of the goods yard. From there they set off, darting behind piles of rubbish and dodging between skips until eventually they arrived at the row of lorries. The last one had a skip on board, ready for delivery. They climbed up and hauled themselves inside it, seeing a large, folded green tarpaulin in one corner.

  “We can hide under there,” said Jason, grabbing and unfolding it.

  But Echo was at the end of the skip by now, clambering up to peer out. Jason joined her. The glass at the back of the cab allowed them to see through the lorry’s windscreen, across the yard towards the building.

  “I think Bullivant’s still in there,” said Jason. “We’ll have to wait for the driver now.”

  The wait lasted ten, almost fifteen minutes. Eventually a man in blue overalls appeared from the building, plodding across the ballast towards the lorry. Jason lowered his head a little, watching as the relief driver came closer. He was a short, florid-faced man with bulldog eyes, his ragged flat cap pushed down so his large ears stuck out. Jason and Echo ducked out of sight, pulling the tarpaulin over them.

  “Bullivant’s probably passed on the message,” Jason whispered. “About two kids on the run. Hopefully the driver won’t look under here before he sets off – but if he does, you might have to take him out.”

  “Take him out where?”

  “I mean fight him – knock him out.”

  Echo nodded, but Jason’s fears were unfounded. He heard the cab door open, then the man’s footsteps on metal as he stepped inside. The door banged. Moments later the engine roared into life,
the whole skip quivering.

  “It does shake my bones,” Echo complained.

  “You’ll be okay,” Jason assured her. “It’ll be just like riding on a cart in the old days, only a bit faster.”

  The skip shuddered even more as the lorry set off. Jason and Echo struggled to keep steady. They moved to the side of the skip, using it for support, the tarpaulin still over their heads. The lorry slowed down and Jason guessed they’d come to the exit. The force jolted them sideways as the vehicle swung out of the yard onto the highway.

  The journey was the most uncomfortable Jason had ever experienced. After twenty minutes, his legs were stiff. He began to think about the Cobalts, his mind travelling back to the last gewita. Scott had said something about returning to Ravenstone Manor, to speak to Maxine.

  “We should do another gewita,” Jason suggested. “To see what the Cobalts are doing now.”

  Echo agreed, and took his hand. Jason closed his eyes, seeing a faint glow that grew in intensity as his other self floated away from the skip. When he looked again, he and Echo were standing to face the entrance of Ravenstone Manor. To the right of the house they saw a courtyard with outbuildings on three sides. The police car was parked in the yard, as were the silver car and blue Land Rover. Scott, Kevin and Tiffany stood near the vehicles, talking to Maxine. Jason and Echo ran over to them.

  “I dumped the dog before I got to the courtyard,” Maxine was saying. “God knows where he’s gone now. Anyway, about those kids. The boy left a bag in my car, with a torch inside and few wrappers and a couple of empty bottles. No clues there I’m afraid.”

  “The kids weren’t in the tunnel,” said Tiffany. “But they can’t have gone far. Maybe we should start a huge search. All our mates from the kung fu club could join in.”

  “Here’s a better idea,” said Maxine. “Why don’t we get a whole police force to work for us?”

  Kevin gave her a bewildered stare. “Whadya mean?”

  “That field, opposite the main gates,” said Maxine. “Part of Des Carver’s farmland, isn’t it? There’s a haystack at the far side – the one the kids ran around earlier. Kevin, go back there and set it on fire. Then I’ll call the station and report it. I’ll tell them what happened at the golf club, about how the kids tricked me into driving them here. I’ll say I got to the gates, then the kids escaped. I went after them but they did a runner and I gave up the chase. Then, a bit later, I saw them again - setting fire to the haystack. They legged it, I couldn’t catch them and by then it was too late to put the fire out.”

 

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