by Piers Torday
‘Maybe they gave Mum and Dad a lift?’ says Polly quietly.
Somehow I don’t think so. I step down and stand in front of her, feeling responsible, like I’m her older brother. She snatches Sidney off my shoulders and hides the cat down on the steps behind her.
*Proceed with great caution,* whispers the General from my pocket.
The engine switches off. One of the panels slides open.
There’s no one inside, just shadows –
Then a pair of metal poles swings out, with a click, on to the paving stones.
Crutches.
Two human legs swing out behind the metal legs. They belong to a tall man wearing a suit and tie under a long brown coat. It is hard to say what he looks like, only that he is white and pale, like he has never seen the sun. The only colour on his face is from his lips, which are pink and blubbery.
The man looks at us and winks.
Then with lightning speed he hops across the flagstones towards us on his crutches. He stops at the bottom of the steps, but doesn’t look at all tired, resting now on all four of his feet.
‘Hello, childrens,’ says the man. His voice sounds foreign, but I can’t work out where from. It sounds like lots of different accents all at once. ‘It looks like it might rain today, yes?’
I really hope not.
He swings his left crutch up towards the clouds. With a hydraulic hiss and the sound of a flag unfurling, a black umbrella squeezes out of the tip and explodes into the sky. The man holds the umbrella over our heads, which he finds really funny for some reason. ‘We don’t want you to get wetted now!’
Polly and I just look up at the umbrella that came out of the crutch, and she holds on to my arm.
‘So childrens, hello. My name is Captain Skuldiss,’ says the crutch-man. ‘Hello, girl-childrens!’ he continues, waggling the tip of his other crutch at Polly, which she shakes as if it was a weird robotic hand.
‘Hello,’ she says in a very low voice.
‘Hello, boy-childrens,’ Captain Skuldiss says, thrusting the pole at me.
I don’t take it.
Ignoring me, he carries on. ‘So, what are you two young childrens doing outside, in the good old Quarantine Zone? Don’t answer yet – plenty of time for answers.’ Captain Skuldiss looks up at the house behind us, his milky eyes scanning the dark windows and roofs.
‘But first let me tell you what Captain Skuldiss is doing, driving round in my special vans. I’m driving round and round this beautiful country, round and round the whole thing, up and down, all over the bloody place – and do you know what I’m looking for?’
He winks at us again and waves the other crutch in the air with excitement. ‘I am looking for some animals, childrens. Nasty diseased old animals. You haven’t seen any sick old animals, have you, childrens?’
We both shake our heads, perhaps too quickly.
*Whatever you do, Sidney, don’t move,* I say without taking my eyes off the crutch.
Captain Skuldiss purses his lips. ‘I see. My big sorry – I should have explained in full, told you the whole caboodle and all, my dear kiddiewinks. What is happening is this: the Factorium – this Mr Selwyn Stone – he comes to me, and he says, – “Hey, Captain Skuldiss. Whatever you are doing now, stop it, and stop it straightaway.”’
‘What were you doing?’ asks Polly.
Captain Skuldiss gives her a sharp look.
‘Oh, never mind, little girls! It was just some soldier’s work far away in the jungle. Some work to talk about another day, which gave me these old things for the rest of my life.’ He picks at the frayed leather straps wound tight round the handles of his crutches. ‘Let us just say I have the very good personal reasons for not liking animals, especially big ones with even bigger toothie-pegs.’
The Captain is lost in his thoughts for a moment, and then clicks his fingers, as if to wake himself up. ‘So, where was I? Of course! Stone! He says, “Captain Skuldiss, we are very worried about this red-eye virus. It has killed so many animals, yes, so cruel and sad.” And I say, “But this is a good thing, is it not?”’ Skuldiss jabs his finger in the air. ‘And he says, “No! That is precisely where you are wrong, my dear Captain Skuldiss.”’ He leans in so close we can see the veins in his eyes. ‘“We are very worried, yes, most worried indeed, that this horrible plague –”’ he beats his heart with his fist and pulls a sad face – ‘“that has killed so many fluffy woodland whatsits, will now kill the numero uno animal on this good planet. Mens!”’ He shakes his head slowly from side to side at the thought.
‘“Very good,” says I. “Anything Captain Skuldiss can do to help his own race of mens.” So I say, “What would you like me to do with these animals and their nasty mutating virus?”’
He whacks the front step again, harder this time. I swear I hear something crack, and I don’t think it was the crutch.
‘“Why, Captain Skuldiss – what do you think? Why have I asked a top soldier type like yourself to help us? We expect you to exterminate them, please. Please, exterminate these leftover animals. Exterminate them all as you might a little bug!”’ He grinds the crutch tip down where he just cracked the step, as if squashing an imaginary bug.
*What is the enemy intruder doing, soldier?* whispers the General from my pocket.
*Nothing,* I say.
For some reason, doing this to the imaginary bug makes Captain Skuldiss laugh, a tee-hee kind of laugh. And then he waits for us to speak.
‘We haven’t seen any animals,’ says Polly eventually. She tries to take a step back, to push Sidney away towards the house and the still-open door.
Captain Skuldiss nods.
He points at me with his crutch. ‘How about you, boy-childrens? A catty got your tongue, has it?’
Does he know? Polly and I swap glances, super-fast.
*I hope you’re not expecting me to run anywhere or move quickly,* says Sidney from her hiding place behind us. *Because that is absolutely not going to happen.*
‘You know, boy-childrens, I’m looking at you and I’ll tell you for why.’ Skuldiss runs the cold tip of his crutch all over me, from the top of my head down to my toes. I shiver. ‘And I’m wondering – this boy-childrens, why is he all covered in mud from head to toe?’
We just stare at him. Polly has gone as mute as me.
‘Covered in mud like a dirty animals.’ He leans forward and sniffs me up and down, big long sniffs over my hair and neck. ‘Yes, he even smells like a dirty animals. So – I ask you again, childrens, have you seen any dirty diseased beasties?’
Out the corner of my eye I catch Sidney trying to peer between our legs.
*Sidney! Don’t move!*
Skuldiss prods my shin with the crutch. ‘So come on. Captain Skuldiss hasn’t got all day. Answer me, please.’
Then, without warning, he raps me hard across my shins with his crutch. I want to rub it, but if I bend over, he’ll see Sidney.
‘He can’t talk, you stupid man!’ says Polly.
‘Oh?’ says Captain Skuldiss, something nasty creeping into his voice. His neck tenses and his eyes roll up to the sky. ‘Stupid, am I?’ He takes aim with the crutch at my shins again, and whacks them – hard this time.
I open my mouth to scream, and nothing comes out. Doubled up with pain, I leave Sidney fully exposed behind us on the steps. She gives a squeaky yowl before darting towards the door – but it’s too late. The umbrella vanishes back into the crutch with a flick of the Captain’s finger, and in less than a second, the end has extended – like a telescope – and pinned down Sidney’s tail under a clawed tip. She squeals in pain.
Polly gabbles – ‘She isn’t ill! She hasn’t got the virus! We followed all the instructions –’
‘Oh yes?’ says Captain Skuldiss. ‘Then why is she shivering?’ He turns again to me, his face going darker all the time. He presses the crutch harder on the cat’s tail. ‘Then why does she have red eyes?’
‘NO! You don’t understand!’ says Polly.
>
‘On the contrary, I understand all too well, little girls.’
Slowly Captain Skuldiss turns around and whistles at the van. The doors to the cab swing open and two men step out. They’re wearing rubber hoods, with gas masks, and rubber gloves and waterproof trousers tucked into their boots. They’re carrying guns, bigger than Polly’s. They’ve got ropes and nets slung over their shoulders, and belts dangling with tranquillizer darts.
Cullers.
Polly kneels down and clutches my arm tight.
The nearest culler strides over and pulls Sidney out from under the crutch with his rubber-gloved hands. She struggles, but is too weak to resist, and the thug carts her away, off down the steps and into the van.
Polly screams, ‘Bring her back! Bring her back! Where are you taking her?’
They chuck Sidney on to the hard metal floor of the van like a sack of coal. As she crawls into a corner, Captain Skuldiss levels his crutch at us. I don’t want to know what else might come out of there.
‘And you kiddies – you are illegally present in a restricted area. Quick march, if you please!’
But Polly is already running towards the van, shouting, ‘As if I would let you take Sidney without me!’
I run down the steps after her, the cockroach safely stashed away in my pocket. Captain Skuldiss shakes his head and hops after us, as Polly and I jump in through the open side door.
‘It’s all right, Sidney, we’re here!’ Polly calls out.
At the sound of her name, Sidney stirs uneasily in the corner. *Is this how we’re getting to the city?* Her voice sounds tired and confused. *I thought you said something about a stag? I’m not ready for my final journey yet.*
*Our plans changed, I’m afraid.* I pat her softly. *Everything is going to be all right, I promise.*
Captain Skuldiss’s head appears in the van doorway. He grins. We get one last look at Wind’s Edge before he rolls the door noisily shut and we are plunged into blackness. Moments later the van starts and reverses sharply, throwing Polly and me against one another in the back. But as her small hand reaches out in the darkness and wraps itself around mine, it does make me feel that I am not alone.
The van goes fast over the bumpy ground, flinging Polly and me from side to side. It is all I can do to stop Sidney and the General being crushed between us. Polly has gone quiet. She was very brave when it was just me to face off, but now I think she’s properly frightened. My shins are stinging with pain that makes it hard to think clearly. But one thing is for sure – I wish I’d never left the stag and his wild.
A panel in the cab wall slides back, just large enough for us to see Captain Skuldiss.
‘Smile please, childrens!’ he says.
Taken by surprise, not thinking, we both turn towards the light.
There’s a blinding flash, and then another. I’m obviously not the only one taking photos of everyone I meet. He slams the panel shut.
In the darkness, circles float before my eyes. Polly clutches my hand, and then Skuldiss forces the panel open again, his white face filling the whole slot.
‘So, childrens,’ he says, ‘a VIP animals-loving childrens we have here, my phone tells me – a very special guest. What we haves here, no less, is the son of another infamous Factorium employee – the son of a certain Professor Jaynes.’
Perhaps it was the van going over another bump, but I feel like my stomach just went through the floor.
Polly looks at me in shock, dropping my hand like it’s on fire. ‘You never said your dad worked for them.’ Her voice has a new edge to it. ‘Is he like this man? Is he like Selwyn Stone?’
I shake my head in the dark. I want to explain to her – but Skuldiss carries on –
‘A most popular young boy-childrens, I am given to understand by my device here. Running away, making one hell of a – how you say? – big stink. Well, don’t worry. There is a call out for you, little one. Chop goes the kitty cat, and then back to Spectrum Hall you shall go.’ A nasty smile. ‘As for your little friend … Your dear Mom and Pops have been arrested in Mons, girl-childrens. For trying to collect some precious formula, meant only for good law-abiding city folk, not wicked outsidery types such as yourselves. Naughty Mom and Pops. So it’s off to Spectrum Hall with you as well!’
He drags the panel shut and we both throw ourselves at the dividing panel, drumming our fists on it. I am never going back to Spectrum Hall – never.
‘Where are they? You have to take me to them!’ screams Polly. But there is no reply, just the sound of the van roaring along the road.
We lean back in silence, and after a while I can feel Polly looking at me strangely. She slides away, over to the other side of the van.
I have to explain to her, tell her –
The reason I’m in just as much shock as she is.
Because Dad doesn’t work for Facto. At least – he didn’t when I left, six years ago –
My thoughts dissolve into nothing as the brakes scream, sending the van into a skid.
The force of it flings us hard against the wall –
And then against the door, which has now become the ceiling –
Then we’re bouncing around like sweets in a tin, everyone apart from me screaming and shouting –
Until finally everything stops.
There’s no noise apart from the engine hissing and whining. I feel all over to check whether anything is broken. There’s a groan beneath me – something very soft and very furry splayed out between us.
*Sidney! Are you all right?*
There’s no reply.
The poor thing feels all limp and lifeless. I hug her close to me, trying to make her warm again. Polly takes Sidney from my arms, rubbing the cat over and over, trying to get her to open her eyes, and then I hear it – a very weak and tiny voice.
*What are you waiting for?*
I clap my hands with relief.
Polly holds her tight. ‘Is she talking, Kester? Can you hear her?’
The fact she’s used my real name for the first time gives me a shock, and I almost smile. But it’s not Sidney speaking.
In the pale blue glow I can just make out the silhouettes of some antennae balancing on what was the base of the van and is now the ceiling.
*How many times do I have to give you an order, soldier? Now open the blasted door!*
Behind me, Sidney coughs like a sick baby in Polly’s arms. Looking at the light squeezing between the doors, I aim a massive kick at them. To my surprise, they swing right open and a gust of wind blows in, sweeping the General off his perch.
Polly pulls herself to her feet, holding out her hand. I grab it, and she drops out of the back of the van, dragging me and Sidney with her, nose-diving straight into a ditch full of twisted roots. There’s mud everywhere, over everything. Sidney has gone at once from being a white cat into a black cat with a few white spots. Polly and I are both spluttering, wiping the soil out of our mouths, her whole face apart from her eyes covered in what looks like war paint.
Now I know what I must have looked like when I broke into her house. No wonder she got her gun out.
Just above us, the General clings to a bumper, bruised but not down. The van hangs over the edge of the ditch on its side, brake lights still on, a spooky red glow over us all. Polly is just sat there, examining the different leaves and twigs, sniffing each one. But this is no time to behave like she’s on one of Dad’s scientific expeditions. I snap my fingers at her, signalling urgently, but she just shakes her head.
*Oh, my dear,* says Sidney, scowling, *do try to keep up. She isn’t going anywhere, is she?*
Looking closer, I can see why. Her left welly has come off, and under a soggy woollen sock her ankle is rapidly swelling to the size of a football. I hoist her arm over my shoulder, and pull her up. She screams, but grabbing at roots I pull us up out of the ditch and – scooping the General into my pocket – we slither on to the road. I turn back to the cat.
*You have to walk now, Sidney,
so I can help Polly.* That tail, whipping the air. *Come on, I know you can do it.*
She can just about, unsteadily, like she’s picking her way over broken glass rather than mud and leaves. I help Polly hobble round as quickly as we can.
*Quick march, soldier, quick march!* shouts the General.
I edge up against the rear of the van. The wheels are raised off the ground and still spinning crazily. There’s a stench of hot metal and a hammering coming from inside the driver’s cab, the sound of a crutch smashing at the van door, trapped shut by a fallen branch – over and over again.
But a fallen branch didn’t stop the van.
Standing just a metre away from the crumpled snout of the machine, his eyes glowing in the headlights, is the stag.
PART 4: WILDNESS
I look up at the sky to spot some unmistakable grey shapes – and a white one – turning in the air above us.
*We never would,* says the stag, sniffing the air as I approach. *We would never leave you, Kester – not after what you promised.*
A promise.
Before I can reply, something knocks me over, something grey and shaggy. The wolf-cub sticks his muzzle in my face, pressing his claws down into my chest.
*We have rescued you, man-child! Not that you deserve it. Stag ran out from behind a tall-home and made the beast-hunter stop. He has proved he is the bravest and strongest stag in the whole world, so now you must come with us, this instant.*
Polly looks first at the stag, standing tall in the headlights, then at the huge flock of pigeons fluttering in the air and finally at the small wolf proudly guarding them all. ‘What is this, Kidnapper? Are these your friends?’
I just keep pushing her towards the deer. And then he says it, just like that, very simply –
Stopping me dead in my tracks.
