The Warrior Sheep Go West
Page 13
“He was a warrior,” she sobbed. “An example to us all. A sheep among sheep…”
“Ohmygrass…” wailed Jaycey. “I shall miss him sooooo much.”
Wills nodded sadly. “He was a brave guy. He deserves a medal.”
“What’s one of them?” asked Oxo, opening one eye. “Can you eat it?”
***
Outside the capsule, the police and the fire service were arriving. In fact, a whole line of official vehicles was bouncing importantly across the desert with sirens blaring.
Sheriff Tiny had been in the first police car but was on horseback now. He’d seen Lightning wandering out of the hillside and baled out to fetch him. Then he’d spotted the woman who’d stolen Lightning, hopping away through the prickly pears. He swung his lasso and it dropped and tightened around her shoulders in a very satisfying way.
“Just a few questions, ma’am, if you don’t mind,” called Tiny, reeling her in. “I never did catch your name.”
The woman straightened up and regarded him defiantly.
“I am Holly Boomberg,” she declared, “and my middle name is Petunia.”
She turned and pointed at the skinny, pale-faced man who was attempting to creep back into the hillside.
“And that is my husband, Professor Stanley Boomberg. The worst scientist in the universe!”
Sheriff Tiny felt a tug on his boot. The little old lady who’d broken out of Gunslinger City jail was standing beside his horse.
“I did tell you,” she said. “He’s Rhubarb. And those”—she pointed proudly at five sheep standing just outside the capsule—“are the Eppingham rare breeds.”
27
The Final Rap
The town of Aries End had a proper airport, with departure screens and marble floors and a VIP lounge. Sheriff Tiny made sure the entire Eppingham posse, as he smilingly called them, got to use the lounge when he saw them off next day. He even arranged a tray of cabbage leaves just for the sheep. And he gave Ida back her bag, which she’d left behind during the jail break. Gunslinger City was now full of Boombergs and white coats awaiting trial on a charge of sheepnapping and exploding a space rocket in a public place.
Ida prized the silver stud from Sal’s ear and dusted the remains of the glitter from Jaycey’s fleece.
“There…” she said, patting them both. “Good girls.”
It still seemed remarkable to Wills that Tod and Ida had come all this way to help. Perhaps there was something about it in the Songs of the Fleece. As he pondered, he was distracted by a familiar chant in the Departures Hall.
“Aries, Aries…Rams, Ewes, and Lambs!”
“Listen, guys,” said Wills. “That sounds like Phoenix and Cameron.”
The chanting came closer and, trotting out into the Hall, the sheep saw a crowd of people wearing black-and-white T-shirts and waving flags. On every flag was a picture of a ram’s head.
“It is them,” said Links. “Look, right in the middle of that lot.”
At that moment, Cameron spotted the sheep.
“Hey, Phee! Look! Our sheep! Mom, Mom, come and check this out! Our sheep! The guys who saved our stupid hides out in the desert!”
Tod and Ida didn’t want the flock out of their sight for a moment and hurried anxiously after them. They were astonished to see two teenage boys on their knees with their arms around Oxo and Sal, and a crowd of others stroking and patting the whole flock.
“Thank you, thank you…” cried the woman who was evidently Mom, kissing each of the sheep in turn. “Cameron, Phoenix, stay there; I have to take a team picture!”
The boys did as they were told, crouching beside the sheep, while Mom got out her camera.
“We finally beat Red Tongue, guys,” said Cameron.
“Whupped ’em out of sight here, at Aries End, just yesterday!” said Phoenix, punching the air.
“What they sayin’?” asked Links.
“They know that Red Tongue got whupped,” said Wills.
He raised a hoof and so did the other warriors, and Phoenix and Cameron gave them high fives all round.
Mom and the rest of the football fans cheered. And Tod and Ida just stared.
BING BONG…a loudspeaker message filled the Hall.
“Will all passengers for London Gatwick please proceed to Gate Five, where Flight RBW One is ready for boarding.”
“Time to go,” translated Wills.
“Better say good-bye then, man,” said Links, and he shook his floppy curls and tapped a hoof as the Warrior Sheep got into line beside him.
“Some humans think us sheep ain’t bright
But it seems you guys have seen the light.
And though we never came lookin’ for fame,
It’s cool that you’ll remember our name.
The Songs of the Fleece told us what to do,
And we had a little help from some humans too.
So now ole Red Tongue won’t slaughter no more,
’Cause the Warrior Sheep has blown him out the door!”
They were rapping toward the Departure Gate now.
The crowd loved the noise. “More, more!” they shouted, walking with the sheep.
“We’d love to visit the desert again,
But now it’s time for some Eppingham rain.
We had a ball in the US of A,
So good-bye, folks. And have a nice day!”
Also available from
Sourcebooks Jabberwocky
When Sal the sheep is bonked on the head by an unidentified falling object, it can only mean one thing: Lord Aries, the Sheep of all Sheepdom, is in trouble, and the sheep posse must save him.
Little do the sheep know that the mysterious object is actually a cell phone dropped by a couple of baaaaad bank robbers who will do anything to get it back. And a couple of woolbags aren’t going to stand in their way!
About the Authors
Christopher Russell was a postman when he had his first radio play broadcast in 1975, having given up a job in the civil service to do shift work and have more daytime hours for writing. Since 1980, he has been a full-time television and radio scriptwriter, and, more recently, a children’s novelist. His wife, Christine, has always been closely involved with his work, storylining and script editing, and has television credits of her own.
The Quest of the Warrior Sheep was the first book they wrote together.