Echo McCool, Outlaw Through Time

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Echo McCool, Outlaw Through Time Page 10

by Roger K. Driscoll


  “Now I’m with you,” said Scott. “Frame the kids for lighting the haystack! Then every copper for miles around will be after them.”

  “You’ve got it,” said Maxine. “And when they collar them, I’ll make sure the kids get locked away. Very serious offence, fire-raising. Of course, if the kids say anything about Lauren in the basement I’ll convince everyone they’re making it up – to get themselves out of trouble. No way will anybody believe them!”

  All heads turned towards the end of the courtyard. The Rottweiler appeared, dopey and unsteady as he padded into a large cage where he slumped down near his kennel.

  “I hope you kept the receipt for that useless mutt,” Tiffany said.

  Her scowling face began to blur, everything becoming hazy before a new landscape faded in all around. Jason and Echo were in the nearby field, a few metres away from the haystack. They saw Kevin beside it, looking furtively in every direction, a box of matches in his hand. Moments later the stack was ablaze as Kevin scuttled away. The gewita transformed again and now Maxine was sitting in an office, Jason and Echo standing behind her. At the opposite side of the desk sat a man with neat, greying hair. Judging by his smart uniform, he was a policeman of very high rank.

  “The fire brigade have got the blaze under control,” Maxine was telling him.

  “I’m glad to hear it,” the man said. “What I can’t understand is why you didn’t search those children for matches when you had the chance. And how did they give you the slip so easily?”

  “Sorry, sir,” said Maxine. “I guess I messed up. But we’ve got to catch those kids before they commit any more offences. Can’t we contact the TV companies and ask them to make an appeal?”

  “This isn’t a big enough story for the TV people,” the senior officer said. “But we could try the local radio stations. Police are concerned for the safety of these two vulnerable children, that kind of thing. We’ll contact all our officers too.”

  The room began to twist and move, spinning in circles before melting away. An instant later, Jason and Echo were back beneath the tarpaulin in the squeaky skip lorry.

  “Brilliant!” said Jason. “We’ve been framed! Now every copper in Britain’s going to be after us.”

  “Then we must think of a plan,” Echo said.

  But Jason’s mind was a blank. Maxine had completely outwitted them, and rescuing Lauren seemed further away than ever now. The lorry continued to rattle along, but after another ten minutes the skip trembled even more as they hit rougher ground. Eventually the vehicle slowed down then jerked to a halt, its engine dying. The cab door creaked open and they heard the driver stamping out. Next came the crunch of gravel as he walked away.

  “We must be at Wendelford Carr,” said Jason. “Time to hide.”

  He and Echo slithered out from beneath the tarpaulin and stood up, shaking the blood back into their legs. Together they clambered out of the skip, jumping from the lorry and running a few metres into a clump of colourful shrubs. Jason peeped out to see a lawn, sweeping down to a huge Georgian farmhouse where the driver knocked on the grand front door. He was answered by a silver-haired man in a tweed suit.

  “Is this Wendelford Carr?” the driver asked.

  “It is.”

  “Are you Geoff Sangster?”

  The silver-haired man nodded. “And you’re the skip man, I take it. Better late than never, I suppose.”

  “Where d’you want it, guvnor?”

  “Pull it around the back,” Geoff Sangster said with an impatient wave of the hand.

  “That’s just great!” whispered Jason. “Wendelford Carr isn’t a house in a town – it’s a farm.”

  He and Echo watched from their hiding place as the driver returned to his lorry. The engine started and Geoff Sangster beckoned, guiding the vehicle around the side of the farmhouse.

  “This is our chance,” Jason said. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  The shrubs provided enough cover for them to retreat to the farm gateway. Jason saw a rough, uneven track, leading into the distance. Beyond it a patchwork of fields stretched away in every direction.

  “We’re in the middle of nowhere!”

  Near the gateway was a ploughed field, bounded by a high hedge that shielded them from the farmhouse. They followed the field’s edge, all the way to the far corner where they climbed over a stile. Now they were in a meadow of tall wild grass, with a drainage ditch running alongside.

  “This way,” Jason said, following the line of the ditch.

  Eventually they rounded a corner where a distant row of trees came into view. Just beyond them, Jason could make out three decaying chimneys and a sagging roof with half its tiles missing.

  “Looks like a derelict house,” he said.

  They ran again, soon arriving at the trees. They hurried past, seeing beds of nettles and high walls, with weeds peeping out through gaps in the mortar. In the nearest wall was a gateway leading into a rubble-strewn, overgrown courtyard. Echo walked through and Jason followed. There were no signs of life. He saw an old cattleshed at the opposite side of the courtyard and, over to the left, a house with cracked windows and a rotting front door.

  “It’s not just a house,” he said, looking all around. “It’s a disused farm.”

  “’Tis a sad place,” said Echo. “Might it be haunted by spirits?”

  “I hope not,” said Jason, taking another step into the courtyard. “’Cos with everyone after us, we’re going to need a hideout.”

  – CHAPTER EIGHT –

  Fleur-de-lis

  Jason stamped the nettles down, making a path to the far corner of the courtyard. Echo followed him to the old farmhouse where they looked in through a broken window. Even in daylight it was spooky, the floor littered with pieces of wood and shards of glass. The ceilings and upper floorboards had fallen away and most of the roof was missing.

  “We can’t go in there,” Jason said. “Looks like it’ll fall down any minute.”

  He led the way to the cattleshed adjoining the farmhouse.

  “Let’s check this out,” he said as they came to a stable door.

  Together they pushed it open and stepped inside, onto a concrete floor. In front of them were six straw-lined cattle stalls in a row, divided by wooden partitions. Above the stalls, sunlight streamed in through three small glassless windows. Jason glanced up; the tin roof seemed to be in good repair.

  “This is better,” he said. “We’ll hide in here till nightfall, then head back to Ravenstone Manor.” He remembered the map, in his side pocket. “I can find the way. It might take hours for us to walk there, but we’ll do it.”

  “Why must we return to the manor in the dark?” Echo asked.

  “To raid the place,” said Jason. “I’ve seen the way you can fight. If we take the Cobalts by surprise, you could beat them all up – then we can rescue Lauren.”

  “What of the fearsome weapon?”

  “The gun?” said Jason. “Maybe Scott locks it away at night.”

  “Perchance,” said Echo. “But after the events of today, ’tis more likely he will keep the weapon with him at all times. The Cobalts know thou art seeking thy sister. Methinks they will be ready and waiting for us, were we to raid the manor.”

  “What else can we do?” said Jason.

  “I know not,” said Echo. “Dost thou not have any friends who may help?”

  “No one who’d believe me,” Jason replied. “And no one who’d have the guts to join us. I could go back to Brandsby House, I guess, and tell Pauline everything. But I bet she wouldn’t believe me. Even if she did, she’d probably tell the police and then I’ll get nicked for lighting the haystack.”

  “Sometimes ’tis better to stay calm,” said Echo. “Then a plan will come. Let us explore further.”

  She walked along to the end of the stalls where she found a rusty old spade, leaning against the wall.

  “With this I may dig a widdelpit outside,” she said, grabbing the spade.
r />   “A widdelpit?” asked Jason.

  “’Tis a small hole in the ground,” Echo explained. “Thou must know my meaning. When thou drinkest water and eatest food… and then, later… thou needest to…”

  “Oh right,” said Jason. “I get you now.”

  Echo slung the spade over her shoulder, making her way to the door at the back of the building. She cocked an ear to it.

  “I hear running water.”

  She tried the handle then pushed the door open. Jason followed her outside. Now they were in a ploughed field with a grassy pathway a short distance to the right, alongside a low hedge. The field sloped gently downhill, the hedge running in a straight line to a metal handrail about forty metres away. To one side of the handrail was an expanse of tall reeds.

  “Come,” said Echo.

  Jason walked with her along the grassy path. He could hear the rush of water now. As he came closer to the handrail he saw it was attached to a small wooden bridge that spanned a rippling, fast-flowing brook. To the left of the bridge the brook opened out into a wide, shimmering pool with reeds lining its opposite bank. Instead of crossing the bridge Jason and Echo walked over the soft grass alongside the brook, to the nearest edge of the pool. They were completely alone now. Only the trickle of water broke the silence.

  “’Tis fed by springs,” Echo said, looking out across the pool. She dropped the spade and knelt down. “Let us drink.”

  She dipped her hands into the water, cupping them together before taking several long gulps. Jason knelt beside her, drinking deeply the same way. The water was fiercely cold, shocking him, numbing his fingers and chilling him from the inside. He washed his hands and face then he and Echo got back to their feet.

  “I needed that,” he said.

  Echo gazed across the pool again. “’Tis deep enough to bathe in, methinks.”

  “Bathe?” said Jason. “You’d freeze to death in there.”

  “I do not feel the cold,” she told him. “But ’tis good if thou dost not wish to swim, for I would prefer to bathe alone.”

  Jason was about to point out that they didn’t have any swimming costumes, when the truth dawned on him. Echo wouldn’t want to get her clothes wet. She was going to swim naked. He felt his cheeks go red, and said the first thing that came into his head.

  “Those stripes of yours – have you got them all over?”

  “Not on my feet, hands, head and neck,” she replied. “But they are everywhere else – on my legs, arms, back, stomach and chest. They are even on my bottom, but that is not for thee to see.” She turned, pointing towards the old farm. “Perchance thou canst can keep a lookout, for strangers.”

  “But we don’t have time for this,” said Jason. “We’re supposed to be thinking of a plan.”

  “To bathe will make me calm,” said Echo. “Then ’tis more likely a plan will come to me. Remember also, ’tis a long time since I have taken a bath.”

  “Guess so,” said Jason. “But…”

  Echo turned to face him, running a hand down her green top. “I know not how to remove this garment.”

  Jason felt himself blush again as he unfastened the zip for her. She slipped her arms out of the top and let it fall to the ground. “Now, please go.”

  “You’re sure this’ll help you think of a plan?” he asked.

  “For certain.”

  Jason wasn’t convinced, but decided to leave her to it. He made his way back to the hedge then followed the grassy path. As he reached the cattleshed door he glanced back across the field. Echo was still in her dress, by the pool, taking off her boots. Jason walked inside the outbuilding, closing the creaking door behind him. He sat down on the straw in one of the cattle stalls.

  This is just brilliant! he thought. Today was supposed to be the day when he’d finally see his sister again. Instead, unless everything changed very quickly, Lauren would have to spend yet another night in captivity. As for Echo, all she could think of doing was having a bath!

  He heard a splash; the sound of her diving into the pool. Echo must’ve been telling the truth - that she didn’t feel the cold like other people. Even then, the water was so chilling she couldn’t possibly stay in there very long.

  Jason stood up to take a closer look around the cattleshed. It made Brandsby House seem like a five-star hotel. He began to pine for the things he normally took for granted; water from a tap, comfortable beds, hot showers and regular meals. Yes, he was feeling hungry now. He thought about sausages and beans, and ice cream, and cakes and chocolate biscuits. He thought about his mother too. How would she feel to see him in this mess?

  After a few more moments, he decided enough time had been wasted. Surely Echo would be out of the pool by now. He made for door, finding a hole where a knot in the wood had fallen away. He put an eye to the hole, getting a clear view of the field and the reeds beyond the pool. Although the field sloped downwards he couldn’t see the water’s surface – but he managed to glimpse the top of Echo’s wet head as she swam one way then the other. She came to the middle of the pool and stopped, raising her arms before disappearing beneath the surface. Her head re-emerged a few moments later, then Jason heard her shrill voice.

  “I have done a gewita,” she called. “To witness the events of a few moments ago. I did see thee, going to the door to peek on me.”

  “I thought you’d finished,” Jason called back.

  “I did ask thee to keep a lookout,” Echo yelled. “But not this way.”

  Jason drew away from the door. He decided to do as he’d promised, and keep watch for strangers. He walked past the cattle stalls and out into the courtyard. At the far side he came to the gateway and the rough track, where he looked in both directions. The area was deserted, nobody in sight. With all the talk about widdelpits, he needed the toilet himself. Except there wasn’t a toilet. But there was no need to dig a hole; the clump of elder bushes by the high wall made a suitable spot. Once he was finished he came back to the track, looking right and left. He and Echo had to be in one of the remotest areas of the Wolds. But where were they exactly? From his side pocket he took out the map then sat down, unfolding it in front of him.

  After a little searching he found Wendelford Carr on the map. He traced his finger to a nameless grey square that was probably the derelict farm. Wendelford Carr was about fifteen miles from Ravenstone Manor. Apart from that, the map was no help at all. He was no nearer to rescuing Lauren, no closer to defeating the Cobalts.

  He began to envy Echo, and the life she’d lived before her long sleep – especially during the years when her parents were still alive. It must’ve been exciting in those days, living the free life in the forest, carrying out raids and sieges, and raising bands of loyal friends to attack the enemy. Suddenly a vision of Fenella came floating to the surface of Jason’s mind, a flickering memory of his meeting with her at the Nevek Barrier. He felt cold all over. Fenella, he said to himself. He closed his eyes, his brain working furiously as Fenella’s words came back to him. Most of all, beware the crooked officer, but look to the fleur-de-lis for the allies you surely need.

  He understood the first part; Fenella was talking about Maxine Knaggs. It was a warning, and she’d been right. Maybe the second part was a warning too. No, not a warning – it was advice. But what did it mean? Jason knew what a fleur-de-lis was – an emblem of a flower, used by scouts on their badges. As for the rest, it seemed to make no sense. Then he opened his eyes as another thought stirred in him. Echo. Maybe she would understand what Fenella had meant. If not, she could do a gewita to find the answer. Quickly he folded the map, sliding it back into his pocket once he’d shot to his feet. He broke into a sprint, crossing the courtyard to the cattleshed and dashing past the stalls to the door. He looked through the hole in the wood, seeing Echo in her brown dress, sitting on the bridge. He kicked the door wide open and headed for the path, hurtling along to meet her.

  “Thou art a sneaky little lizard,” she said as he arrived.

  “I
wasn’t spying on you,” Jason panted. “I really had thought you’d finished. Anyway, you said having a bath would help you think of a plan.”

  As well as her dress, Echo had put on her boots. She looked far cleaner now, and was using the green top to scrunch her hair dry.

  “Something did come to me,” she said. “That we cannot be the only enemies of the Cobalts. Such evil people are sure to have angered others. That is where we should look for help.”

  “You’re right,” said Jason. “We need allies.” He sat on the bridge beside her, letting his legs dangle. “Listen to this. When I met your mother at the Edge of Time, she warned me about Maxine Knaggs. She also said Look to the fleur-de-lis for the allies you surely need. Without the minstrels you will not succeed. They will need your help in equal measure. Surely it is better to help others, as well as yourself and your sister.”

  Echo tucked strands of damp red hair behind her ears, deep in thought. “It does seem that, for allies, my mother wished us to seek some minstrels. Whoever these minstrels may be, they do need our help as we need theirs. My mother was right in what she said – ’tis noble to help others. Always I did so in mine own time.”

  “Do you know what a fleur-de-lis is?” Jason asked.

  Echo nodded.

  “I still don’t understand what Fenella meant,” Jason went on. “But we could do a gewita to find out.”

  Echo nodded again, throwing the green top to one side then taking his hand.

  “Powers of Time,” she said. “Please show us what my mother did mean by the fleur-de-lis, and the minstrels.”

 

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