Champagne & Lemonade

by John A. D. Hickling

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” said Jake.

  “Apart from my heart I’m ok,” said Mollie, patting her chest.

  “James?”

  “Yeah, fine, Greg, man.”

  Greg checked over the Jeep while the gang checked themselves and their equipment; Mollie had to wipe a bit of blood off Jake’s face where he had grazed it on the window.

  “Anyway, what was that thing?” asked Mollie.

  “Well, it was no domestic cat; that’s for sure,” yelled Jake as he and James were getting out their rifles and equipment. Greg got his gun and a long canvas bag which housed a trap of his own design.

  “Grab your camera, Moll, and let’s go; it went through that hole there,” Greg said and off they went in pursuit.

  “Sssh,” whispered James as they sneaked behind some trees. The cat was a few metres in front of them, sniffing around a dead deer carcass. It was the size of a tiger but its paws were huge and it had long teeth protruding from the top of its mouth. It was golden brown in colour with faint, black stripes running along the top of its back.

  The gang looked at each other in disbelief before Mollie rummaged around in her rucksack, looking for her camera; she pulled out her compass, a multi-tool, combined Swiss knife, her notebook and an iPad before finally finding it.

  “What the hell is that?” whispered Jake.

  “Well, I’m no expert, and I believe they’re meant to be extinct, but with its long teeth and golden coat it looks like a sabre-toothed tiger to me,” said Mollie as she managed to take a couple of pictures.

  “Right, Jake, you distract it; me and James will snag it,” whispered Greg. James and Greg nodded in agreement, while Jake looked at them gone out, not feeling entirely happy with his role in the plan. Greg jumped as a loud roar sounded from high above them. The cat ran off.

  “It’s the flying thing,” yelled Jake and he began to run as the beast clocked eyes on him and gave chase. He was now wishing that he had hidden himself a bit better. The beast was about ten feet long and green in colour with a long tail and neck — like a serpent, but it also had eagle-like talons and a beaklike jaw. It was definitely reptilian though as its mouth was full of razor-sharp teeth. It was trying to get through the trees for its dinner, which just so happened to be Jake.

  “That’s it, Jake; keep it occupied,” yelled James.

  Jake was dodging in-between the trees as the beast struggled to get down to him, and with Jake involuntarily distracting the beast it gave Greg the perfect opportunity to lay down one of his bag traps in the open clearing. “Jake, bring it over here,” shouted Greg.

  “Try and bring it over this way too, Jake, so I can get a good picture of it,” Mollie also shouted from behind a tree as she held her camera up ready.

  “No problem, and after I’ve done that I’ll nip back to camp and make an à la carte candlelit supper, shall I?” sneered Jake as he shot towards the clearing and the beast swooped down for him.

  “Now, Greg,” yelled James. Greg responded by pressing a button on a remote controlled device which was strapped to his wrist. This made the canvas trap bag spring open and a net shoot upwards; it spun in the air and snared the beast, wrapping so tightly around its wings that it incapacitated its flight and brought it crashing down. The screeching noise it made was deafening as it smashed through tree branches before finally hitting the ground — Jake only just managed to roll out of the way in time.

  Greg and James jumped up and smashed in pegs and tied ropes from the net to nearby trees as the dazed and cut beast made little attempt to redress its situation. It took them little over a minute to secure the net and trap the beast. James high-fived Greg and they both turned to pull a dirty Jake up from the ground. Jake shook his head then smiled as they patted him on his shoulders in gratitude. Mollie was still taking photos of the creature.

  “What the hell is it, Mollie?” asked Greg.

  “Well, it’s certainly no canary, is it?” quipped Jake, swigging from a bottle of water.

  Mollie sat down on a tree stump, slipped off her rucksack and put down her camera. She took out her iPad, which was in an army camouflage case, tapped in her password and then she scrolled through her own database — The Spindle Files — in which she had information on living, factual creatures as well as in-depth research on myths and legends. She tapped her right foot continually as she studied the web and her files. “I’ve come across something like this before, I know I have — ahh, here we are,” said an excited Mollie as some files and pictures loaded on her system.

  The others gathered round. “What? Have you have seen one of these before?” asked James.

  The creature tried to wrestle itself free, but the lads made sure it was secured then went back to Mollie, who continued, “I haven’t seen one like this in the flesh before, but as you can see here, these photos are from thirty years ago and were passed off by the government as fake. You can see the similarities — the eagle talon-like claws on each foot…the beaklike jaw.” Mollie clicked a button that said ‘Archive Files’.

  “I think it’s not long eaten by the look of the blood and flesh around its teeth,” observed Greg.

  “Well now we know what all the reports of missing cattle are about,” said James.

  “Look, mythology records state that these creatures are called wyverns — don’t get too close to the barb in its tail, Jake, it’s venomous. According to this, they come mainly from Great Britain and Ireland, live in caverns or similar protected lairs which can be easily identified by the bones of their prey which they leave scattered by the entrances,” said Mollie, showing the gang all the information.

  The gang stood in awe, admiring the creature, which attempted to do a deafening roar, but the ropes and nets put paid to that.

  “What we gonna do with it?” Jake asked, but before he got an answer they heard the mightiest roar; it shook the trees and made the birds flee from their nests. It was instantly followed by a girl’s scream ripping through the air.

  “Oh my God, what was that?” yelled Mollie.

  “Quick, come on; it came from over there,” bellowed James and off they ran in the direction of the gut-wrenching scream.

  Five minutes later they were negotiating their way through some tall, tight trees when Greg fixed his eyes on the treetops, which were shaking.

  “Someone please tell me I’m not going mad and my eyes aren’t deceiving me because it looks like there are some huge hands on top of them trees,” whispered Jake. The huge hands were the reason why the trees were shaking so violently, sending branches crashing down to the ground; leaves were falling and fluttering everywhere and the birds and animals of the forest squawked and squeaked as they fled for cover.

  The gang were startled as the sound of voices came from behind them. “Be quiet, trust me, you don’t want that thing after you. Hi, I’m Brett Hollis and this is my sister Chez.”

  “Hi, I’m Jake,” he whispered. Jake and Brett shook hands before they all crouched for cover behind some bushes.

  “Hi, I’m Mollie, Jake you already know, that’s James and that’s Greg.” Mollie pointed. A roar made them all crouch further down for a few seconds.

  Mollie smiled at Brett who was a six foot, gangly figure, dressed all in black; his brown hair was swept over his head to form a ponytail at the back, he had a thin goatee and a warm expression was conveyed through his brown eyes.

  “What is that thing? It sounds like King Kong,” Jake asked, trying to whisper louder than Greg and James who were busy discussing plans of action.

  “You’re not far off, mate; it’s some kind of troll thing, me and our Chez have been stalking it to prove that these things do exist,” Brett replied. The gang looked at each other, bewildered at hearing the word troll, but after what they had already witnessed so far that day it wasn’t hard to believe that what Brett was saying was true.

  “What are you all doing up here?” asked Cheryl, who was a pretty, petite girl with short, cropped, brown hair, three piercings
in each ear as well as a nose stud. She too was dressed in black and, like her brother, carried a small backpack.

  “We’re here to catch the big cat that there is a big reward for. The locals are keen to stop it killing off their livestock,” said James.

  “Any luck with that?” asked Brett.

  “Not yet,” was Greg’s reply as he checked his rifle.

  “What now, then, Greg?” asked Jake, but before an answer could be given, a growl came from behind them. They all stood and slowly turned around to be faced with the cat. James slowly eased out his rifle and had just cocked it when the cat yelped and ran off.

  “That was easy enough,” quipped Brett

  “Too easy,” replied James. “What’s that smell?”

  “Urrgh,” said Chez with a shiver.

  “What the hell is that?” asked Mollie as a yellow, greeny coloured, slimy liquid, full of lumps and about ten feet in length splattered onto the ground; it looked suspiciously like drool and some of it splattered over Chez and Mollie. They all slowly turned around, and there, looking down at them from twenty feet high, with bits of grey fur hanging on its grey skin, hands as big as houses, red eyes, a pointed nose and a mouth full of manky, sharp teeth was a —

  “It’s a troll thingy-me-bob — a big ’un at that,” yelled Jake.

  “Run,” was Brett’s command and they did. The troll roared as it started ripping up trees to try to get to them.

  “There’s no such thing as trolls, Jake,” yelped James as he ran alongside him.

  “Well it looks real enough to me, pal!”

  “Freeze,” yelled Commander Durnham. Jake and the rest came to a sudden halt, all of them staring down the barrels of soldiers’ guns.

  One of the soldiers attempted to grab Mollie, who, after taking a karate stance, swiped his legs out from underneath him, but that was the last display of her karate skills as two soldiers pointed their rifles at her, making her nervously smile and raise her hands.

  “Who are you and what are you doing here?” demanded Sergeant Black.

  “Well, we were camping and having a BBQ, but now we mainly seem to be finding a host of things that don’t exist,” sneered Jake sarcastically. A soldier pointed his rifle at Jake, who started whistling as he raised his hands.

  “Enough of that. Can you explain to me why six of you are running about in a dangerous, restricted area? Well?” shouted Commander Durnham.

  Greg stepped forward. “Well, Sir, we have come camping, but we have also come to catch the cat that has been reported in the area.”

  Jack looked the group up and down then said, “A cat is about right. I believe it was someone’s house cat, that is all.”

  James looked at Greg in bewilderment then spoke, “That’s a good one, a house cat, it was nothing of the sort, it was —”

  “Quiet, I can’t have six young people, who don’t understand the situation, running around a restricted area; these men will escort you off the premises.”

  “We know what is going on here, man, and that thing we just saw was different to any house cat I have ever seen,” said James

  “Yeah, then there’s the wyvern we just caught,” said Mollie, waving her iPad.

  “And the troll thingy,” said Brett, looking at the trees.

  Commander Jack Durnham shared a look with Sergeant Black. “What is a wyvern and how do you know all this?” said Jack.

  “Because we have caught it, man,” said James.

  “And you are? Exactly what expertise do you have in such matters?” asked Jack.

  “James, Sir, and I work for the RSPCA as an animal catcher.”

  “Mollie, show him,” said Greg as another roar crashed through the trees

  Jack looked at them with caution; Greg was looking at the hundreds of birds, wondering what was making them flock in the sky. The soldiers were all looking nervous as they had the guns aimed at the rustling, but with no idea what was behind it. They were all startled when a spine-tingling shriek came from what sounded like another creature deep within the forest.

  Mollie approached Jack and started showing him her camera images; Jack gulped, looked at Mollie, and then carried on surveying the pictures. Sergeant Black signalled with his right hand, and some of the soldiers slowly moved forward to see what the rustling was.

  “I would get your men back and get out of here if I was you, boss man,” said James as he started backing away from the shaking trees, but before Commander Durnham could ask why —

  “Aaaaahhhhhh,” screamed four of the soldiers as the troll burst through, throwing the soldiers to their deaths. One soldier fell in front of the troll and started to fire his L85A2 rifle. The troll roared and trod him into the earth.

  The Commander went to pull one of the soldiers to his feet but he slipped and the troll growled and went towards him. Jack took aim but his gun jammed and he thought he was looking death in the eye when…

  “Hey, stinky,” yelled Jake, throwing a stone at the troll which hit it in the eye. While the troll was distracted Jake pulled the Commander to his feet. Grateful, he shook Jake’s hand.

  “Run,” yelled Sergeant Black even though most of them were already doing so. After a couple of minutes of running and shooting, the Commander, Sergeant Black, Greg, Mollie, James, Jake, Brett, Cheryl and the three soldiers that had survived all hid in a trench.

  “Quiet, everyone,” whispered the Sergeant, putting his finger to his lips. They could hear the troll, grunting and sniffing about. Greg and James were thinking about the best way of trapping the thing, with Greg hoping the nets he had invented wouldn’t let him down. Mollie was wondering where the trolls had come from, wondering about their existence. Durnham’s head was full of different scenarios. How was he, firstly, going to sort out the troll and, secondly, salvage the whole operation? Because he, after all, was in charge and the buck would have to stop with him. The others were thinking about their families and whether they would survive to see them again, while Jake was thinking about the date that he had been asked out on a couple of nights ago by Tiffany Bishop, a fellow lifeguard at work. She was the prettiest girl he had ever met and he was really hoping that he would still make their date.

  “What are we gonna do, Greg…James?” asked Mollie and everyone looked at them for an answer, even the military.

  “I wish I could get to the van and get my bag traps.”

  “They wouldn’t be big enough, Greg,” said James. He then turned to Jack and asked, “What have the soldiers got in their bags?”

  “Rope, food, chloroform, tranquilizers. Why?”

  Greg and James whispered a plan, smiles etched across their faces, excited because these were the exact ingredients they needed to put a plan into action.

  “Have you noticed it’s gone very quiet?” mumbled Cheryl. The Sergeant waved his hand at one of the soldiers to go and investigate. The soldier gulped, saluted and slowly climbed out.

  “Right, listen up, we need to sneak out and tie some ropes to the foot of those trees. Next, we calculate the area where this thing is likely to fall and put twigs and leaves there along with some chloroform. That leaves a couple of us to climb up high into the trees with the tranquilizers,” James finished with a grin.

  “I know you’re an animal catcher, James, and you all did a cracking job on the wyvern creature, but I don’t think you have caught anything on this scale before have you?” Jack asked.

  “Well no, Sir, but it’s all the same principle.”

  “It sounds like we might not need your plan, after all, James; it’s gone very quiet. And hey, where did that soldier go?” said Mollie.

  “Good point; get on the radio to him,” ordered Sergeant Black. It was then that they heard a scream and the body of the soldier, minus his head and with his intestines dangling out from his battered body, landed in the trench. Greg and Brett put their hands over Cheryl and Mollie’s mouths to muffle their screams.

  “Right, we go with the plan,” said the Commander, through gritted te
eth, his eyes fixed on the mangled soldier’s body, a man he had served with in Afghanistan and Iraq and had much respect for; it was from this respect that Durnham knew they had to try to do something, and he knew James’ plan was the best that they had. “How do we get its attention?”

  Everyone looked at Jake, who reluctantly nodded his head; James patted him on the back and said, “Jake, take him away and then double back, I can see an area a few yards away that should do; give us five minutes.”

  Jake stood up and peeked out of the trench; he could see the troll a few yards back, eating one of the soldiers: clothes, helmet, boots and all. The crack of the soldier’s bones as the troll chewed on him was stomach turning.

  Brett tapped Jake on the back. “I will go with you, mate.” Jake smiled at him. The others were slowly sneaking out of the trench and making their way to the trap site; they were going to start setting everything up.

  As Brett and Jake were waiting for the others to safely reach their destination they decided to get to know each other a little better. They established that they were both Taurean, which they thought was cool, but Jake supported Tottenham Hotspur while Brett supported their fiercest rivals: Arsenal; but in their current circumstances that didn’t seem to matter so much — for the time being anyway. Brett also revealed he liked, and was good at, swimming, which Jake could appreciate. After their chat they felt that they could trust each other that little bit more and their nerves were slightly soothed.

  When their comrades were in place they both took a deep a breath and cocked the guns that Commander Durnham had given them for protection. “Some camping trip this,” quipped Jake. They both laughed and jumped out of the trench. Jake quietly passed Brett his gun and then picked up a big stick. “Hoh, smelly,” he yelled as he threw the stick at the troll, hitting it on its back. The troll roared as he dumped the remains of the soldier down on the forest floor. He then threw a bigger stick back at Brett and Jake which, for the troll, was a huge tree branch; it was a struggle for them both to get out of the way in time.

  “This way, Jake; quick, it’s coming,” shouted Brett.