“Why are they doing that?” screamed Jamie above the racket.
“Maybe trying to blast their way into the harbour?” screamed Toby back. “Looks like the harbour is packed with wrecked ships.”
“Or perhaps they’re trying to scare anyone or anything away,” said Jamie’s mum. “This will send the dogs crazy; they won’t hang around in Aberdeen with all this going on.”
There was a lull in the bombardment and the only noise was the cracking and popping of the fire as the ships lay broken and burning.
“I need to go,” said Toby determinedly. “I need to get the medicine and find some fuel. You two go for the boat. I’ll meet you opposite this entrance. If I’m not back in an hour, go without me.”
“No!” cried Jamie. “We wouldn’t do that.”
“Toby, listen,” said Jamie’s mum. “I hid everything in the roof space in the Inversneckie Café. You need to stand on the counter and slide off the panel in the ceiling directly above your head. It’s all there.”
Great! I spent hours sitting next to that counter, and all the time the medicine was above my head!
Toby nodded. Jamie’s mum continued, “If for some reason you don’t meet up with us, take my kayak. It’s hidden behind the café, under a pile of rubbish. If we have to move we’ll wait for you on the other side of the estuary. It’ll be safer there. Oh, I nearly forgot — my bike’s at the back of the café too. Take that; it’ll be quicker than going on foot.”
Toby nodded again. A bike would make all the difference, and if he did attract the attention of any dogs, he might be able to outrun them.
Toby left Jamie and his mum crouched in the entrance of the tunnel, and ran stealthily up the beach. Yellow and orange light flickered from the harbour, showing him the way across the pebbles and sand, back up to the row of cafés. He sprinted round the back of the buildings, keeping flat against the walls. The dogs may have run away from the cacophony of destruction in the harbour, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Behind the café he raked through the mounds of litter. Jamie’s mum had been right — the kayak and bike were still there, hidden under layers of soggy cardboard and piles of empty plastic bottles.
He had taken Jamie’s torch with him and, turning it on, shone the light into the café. It was just as they had left it.
He climbed over the rubbish and into the kitchen. Hauling himself on to the counter, he stretched up and, with the tips of his fingers, pushed at one of the ceiling panels. It moved.
As Toby strained and pushed harder, the panel popped up and he managed to slide it to one side. A hole appeared over his head, and a rope dangled down from it. He gave the rope a gentle tug and heard something scraping along the roof space above. He tugged again and a large rucksack flopped over the hole. Another tug and he caught the bag as it fell to the counter.
Ripping open the cord tie on the mouth of the rucksack with trembling fingers, he shone the torch inside. It was crammed with small white boxes. He frantically grabbed one and pulled it out. Printed on the side it had a list of medical sounding names. Toby recognised one of them — penicillin! That’s what he was looking for!
Toby thrust the box back into the rucksack, drew the cord shut and leapt off the counter. He dragged the rucksack straps over his shoulders and stumbled out into the night air as the sky lit up with more flashes. The bombardment had started again.
Toby picked up the bike and heaved it on to the tarmac road. He could feel the bike trembling as the vibrations of the blasts juddered through the ground. Toby flinched as the bangs and crashes thundered from the explosions.
Now where? Where am I going to get fuel from?
Toby watched the rising glow from the burning ships and knew. He had to go to the harbour. He remembered his dad telling him about the fuel tanks at Peterhead harbour. There would be the same here at Aberdeen. Somewhere on the quayside would be huge cylindrical tanks, hopefully with some diesel still left in.
I’ve no choice. I must go to the harbour! I only hope the pirates haven’t blown up the tanks, along with the ships.
Toby swung his leg over the bike and set off, pedalling as fast as he could.
This has got to be the maddest thing I’ve done yet!
18. In the Heat of the Night
As Toby sped along the beach promenade, he realised that he’d left the empty fuel can in the dinghy. His heart sank.
Oh no. Something else to think about. Better hope there’s some lying around the fuel depot.
He whizzed down the streets of the tiny fishing village of Footdee, which nestled at the edge of the harbour, his bike bumping over the cobbles. He knew the frigate must be lying at the mouth of the harbour, on the other side of the cottages. The pirates wouldn’t be able to see him. Besides, they were too busy creating Armageddon.
The guns fell silent. Toby could hear shouting and screaming. Were they preparing to launch a craft and go onshore?
This is bad timing. What if they want the same thing as me? Fuel. Maybe they’re just reloading the rocket launchers? What if they fire a rocket at the fuel depot while I’m there?
Toby felt the familiar clutch of fear and panic clawing at the bottom of his stomach, drawing it into a tight ball.
As he drew closer to the granite walls of the main harbour basin, he could feel the air getting hotter and hotter. Sweat trickles prickled his eyes and his t-shirt stuck to his back. Hazy clouds of smoke floated down to the sea, filling the air with an acrid smell of burnt rubber, wood and molten metal.
Toby stood up on his pedals and scanned for the characteristic shapes of the fuel tanks in the patches of darkness ahead.
Suddenly he threw his brakes on hard and stopped. There in front of him was Aberdeen harbour. Its two main channels were crammed with the dark shapes of ships, their masts and aerials sticking up like antennae from a crazy-looking mound of insects.
Viewed through the wobbling air of the heat haze, it looked to Toby like a scene from one of those World War Two movies that his dad had liked to watch on a wet Sunday afternoon. There were ships piled on top of other ships. There were ships on fire, mere metal skeletons burning like dry sticks. There were ships sinking into the dirty black water. Some had mounted the quayside and lay tipsily on their sides, half submerged.
Ah! There they are!
Three tall towers poked their noses up from the blackness of the quayside. Toby raced towards them, feeling the scorching heat from the fires burning his cheeks.
The spiralling flames licking at the ships threw violent shadows up against the metal fences of the depot. Toby thought he saw demons and monsters lurking at every turn. He screeched to a halt in front of the fuel tanks, gravel spitting from under the bike’s tyres.
Phew! Lucky!
Lying scattered around the depot were empty plastic jerrycans. Toby grabbed one and headed for the boom sticking out of one of the towers. On the end of the boom was a nozzle, like one he had seen in petrol stations. As he neared the metal tank, a wave of heat hit him. He felt like the air was being scorched from his lungs. He tore off his hoodie and, wrapping it around his face, breathed through the cloth.
It’s so hot! This tank could ignite any moment!
He wrenched the nozzle from the boom with his bandaged hand.
What if they start firing again now? Don’t think about it! Concentrate on the job.
He pointed the nozzle into the fuel can and squeezed it as hard as he could. At first just a dribble plopped slowly into the can.
Come ON! Please! There must be some left!
He couldn’t swallow. He could feel panic tearing at his dry throat. He kept on squeezing, grimacing as the hot nozzle began to burn through the bandage. The dribble grew into a flow and within seconds a gush of diesel filled the can. Hands quivering, he screwed the cap on the can and dragged it to his bike. The heat was unbearable. He had to get out of there fast.
The bike was hot, the handlebars were hot, and the pedals were searing holes in his boots. Toby thought he was
about to spontaneously combust.
Bike! Harder! Go! GO! GO!
He could smell a warm rubbery smell as the bike tyres softened in the heat. He hung on to the jerrycan with one hand and steered shakily back the way he had come — back along the quayside and towards Footdee, where he had to stop. The weight of the can was too much; he needed to swap arms. Toby turned and looked at the scene of devastation behind him. Great fountains of brilliant sparks shot into the air from one of the ships, throwing light on to the main quay. Toby caught a glimpse of a lone dog, thrown into relief, watching the harbour. It stood like a statue staring into the night.
Cerberus. What’s he doing? I can’t see any other dogs — have they panicked and deserted him? Why isn’t he scared? I am!
Toby jumped as another rocket blasted from the pirates’ frigate. As it screeched through the air, he saw Cerberus rise on his hind legs, as if in defiance, pawing the air. Then he turned and loped away into the dark.
Where’s he going? I wonder if we’ll ever see him again.
Toby spun the bike round and headed for the beach, cycling as fast as the can jolting by his side would allow. The air grew cooler but was still thick with the smoky haze that billowed across the promenade. The rucksack began to slip off his shoulders and dig into the soggy t-shirt on his back. He stopped to wriggle it straight. Something darted across the road in front of him.
No! Just when I thought I was safe from the dogs!
Another shadow flitted down a side path, away from the beach. Then another, and another. There were dozens of them. The dogs were travelling fast, heads down, noses to the floor, tails tucked in between their legs. They didn’t stop to look at him. They weren’t interested in him at all. They were running as fast as they could out of the city. They were leaving Aberdeen.
Toby scoured the beach for any sign of Jamie and his mum. At first he could see nothing but the shadowy sands, dancing with the flickering light from the blazing harbour. But then, as he was wondering how to fit the large, lumpy rucksack and the jerrycan of fuel into the kayak, something moved near the sea’s edge. He squinted into the gloom and made out two figures climbing into a boat. Belle was splashing around in waves next to them.
“WHOA! I’m here!” he shouted, not caring who heard any more. The dogs were beating a hasty retreat and the pirates were blowing up the city. “WAIT FOR ME!”
He threw the bike down and jumped up and down, waving his arms. Jamie and his mum didn’t look up. They were busy packing something into the dinghy. Toby grabbed the jerrycan and ran, the rucksack bumping around on his back.
“STOP!” he yelled, struggling down the promenade steps on to the stony beach. “STOP!”
He could see Jamie’s mum struggling into the boat, while Jamie pushed it away from the shore and then ran into the waves to leap on to the bow.
Toby dragged the heavy can over the rough stones and shaley sand, tears of frustration dripping down his face.
“Wait!” he cried, coming to a dead halt. He couldn’t go any further. His arms were falling off and his legs had turned to jelly. He dropped to his knees on the wet sand.
“I can’t go on! I can’t do it!” he sobbed.
Get up, you big baby! Stop crying! What would Mum say if she could see you now? What about Sylvie? She needs that medicine right away! GET UP!
Toby hauled himself to his feet, and with his very last ounce of energy, picked up the can and the rucksack. He looked up to where he had last seen the dinghy. It was still there. Jamie had seen him and was pulling it back to the shore, helped by the incoming tide.
Toby staggered the last desperate footfalls as Jamie hung gamely on to the dinghy’s tether.
“Toby! Cool! You made it! We thought you were …”
“I didn’t think I was going to make it,” Toby sniffed, wading into the waves.
Jamie took the can and hoisted it on board, followed by the rucksack. He clambered over the side into the boat and then yanked Toby in beside him.
“Time to go home, hero!” Jamie called out. In the warm orange-red glow, Toby saw a huge smile crease Jamie’s grubby face.
“Yeah, time to go home,” agreed Toby.
The dinghy swung left and headed north.
As the tired crew made their way up the coastline, a pale pink light suffused the sea as the sun started to peek over the horizon. The journey was quiet and uneventful; the little dinghy chugged along, hugging the shore. They didn’t speak; they were too exhausted for words. They stopped once to fill up the fuel tank.
Toby trusted Jamie now, so gave him the tiller, and sat with the telescope, surveying the pinkish landscape in the early dawn. As they skimmed the edge of the suburbs, from Aberdeen to Balmedie, he saw dark figures moving silently across the land. Many more dogs were running away from the city.
But they’re not running in blind panic. Not like when Monty used to run away from fireworks. It looks as if they all know where they’re going, perhaps staying safe until the chaos dies down. Maybe Cerberus does have a plan.
Toby’s own plan was to get home as quickly as possible and, after giving Sylvie her medicine, all he wanted to do was curl up in his cosy bed and sleep for a week. How great would that be? He was tired of being brave.
The sun was fully risen when Jamie finally navigated the dinghy round the last cliff and into the bay at Collieston. Jamie’s mum smiled at Toby’s weary face.
“Not long before you can go to your bed,” she said.
Toby smiled back, but then, as he looked over her shoulder towards the lighthouse, his smile froze.
The Lucky Lady had gone.
19. A New Journey
Toby leapt on to the jetty and ran up the path to the compound. The double gates swung to and fro in the breeze. There were signs of a hasty departure: empty boxes lay strewn around and a few white feathers fluttered in the corner of the yard. That was the only sign of the chickens.
He ran inside, up the stairs and through the hatch into the kitchen. Stuff lay everywhere. Things had been pulled out of cupboards then discarded on the floor. Henry’s hutch on the top of the dresser had gone.
Toby frantically scrabbled through the papers and colouring books on the table, looking for a note from his dad to tell him where they’d gone. But all he could find was the picture of an orange clown on stilts he had drawn for Sylvie.
Dad! Why haven’t you left me a note? For God’s sake! I’ve rushed to get the antibiotics for Sylvie and she’s not here! Where are you?
A horrible thought crossed his mind. What if something terrible had happened to Sylvie? What if his dad had lost the plot and taken off in the Lucky Lady? What if he was too late?
Toby ran up the stone steps to his dad’s bedroom. It was in a chaotic mess, with clothes and toys littering the floor, but there was no one there.
He ran on up to the lamp room, leaping the wooden steps two at a time. The strong sunlight reflecting off the lenses made him squint and screw his eyes up. The telescope was still sitting on the tripod. He put the eyepiece to his eye, and swivelled it round 180 degrees, panning from the bay across the sea. The sea looked intensely blue in the clear, bright light. Waves foamed and broke in the mild wind. But there was no sign of the Lucky Lady.
Toby ran back down to the jetty where Jamie, his mum and Belle were still sitting in the cramped dinghy.
“What d’you want to do?” asked Jamie’s mum. “I don’t think we should stay here. It doesn’t feel safe. Your dad must have left for a reason and, by the looks of it, he left in a hurry.”
Toby gulped back his tears. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. He was going to return as a conquering hero and present his dad with the medicines like a trophy from a war. Why wasn’t his dad here?
“Listen,” cried Jamie, “there’s somebody coming!” From around the headland the heavy throb of a large boat engine could be heard, and then behind it came the familiar chug, chug of another, smaller engine. It was too late to try and hide anyway, so Toby stood on the
jetty and watched as, coming from the next bay up, sailed an old battered minesweeper. Bouncing behind on the wash of the minesweeper was the Lucky Lady, and standing waving out of the wheelhouse door was his dad.
“Dad!” shouted Toby, jumping into the dinghy. “Quick, Jamie, let’s get over to Lady.” Toby waved back, jumping up and down with excitement.
“Steady,” warned Jamie. “You’ll capsize us!”
“Hurry up!” yelled Toby. “Dad! I got it! I got the medicine!” But the sound of the boats’ engines drowned his cries.
The minesweeper shut off its engines and came to a halt outside the bay. It was too big a boat to come in close but the Lucky Lady swung in towards the jetty, and sidled to a halt as the dinghy pulled alongside. Toby threw the tether to his dad, and scrambled quickly on deck.
“Toby! I thought I’d never see you again!” cried his dad, hugging him. “I should be cross with you going off like that, you …”
“Dad! Dad! I got the medicine! I got it, Dad! And I got Jamie’s mum — and she’s a doctor!” squeaked Toby, as his dad’s hug squeezed all the air out of him.
“You did? Wow! I can’t believe it! I thought you were mad going off like that.”
“How’s Sylvie?” asked Toby breathlessly. “Where is she? Is she alright?”
“She’s asleep in the cabin. She’s not woken all day.” His dad’s face showed how worried he was.
“Quick,” said Toby. “We must get Jamie’s mum to look at her.
Jamie and his mum were clambering up on to the deck. Belle jumped up beside them, her tail wagging furiously.
“Hi,” said Jamie’s mum, smiling at Toby’s dad. His dad smiled tiredly back.
“Quick, through here,” he said, leading them all through to the cabin. “Sorry, my name’s Dave Tennant. I’m Toby and Sylvie’s dad,” he added, holding out his hand. Toby was surprised to see his dad blushing as Jamie’s mum took his hand and shook it firmly.
Red Fever Page 13
