The Time Hunters

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The Time Hunters Page 15

by Ashmore, Carl


  ‘What the -’ Uncle Percy’s eyes were fixed on the road ahead.

  Becky peered through the windshield and let out a gasp of surprise. Before them stood the ruins of a decimated village. Flecks of sand carried like a yellow mist, landing on the scarred remains of burnt out buildings. Then her surprise turned to horror as dozens of human skeletons their flesh having long since been torn off by scavengers, came into view. A massacre. Becky felt sick.

  ‘What happened here?’ Joe said.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘But whatever it was happened a long time ago. It’s none of our concern.’ From the sound of his voice, Becky wasn’t convinced.

  Moving slowly, Uncle Percy steered Bertha towards the Red Mountain. They were now close enough to see something fashioned into the rock. The Great Gate. Uncle Percy drew Bertha to a halt and soon they all stood in an awestruck silence before the colossal metal structure.

  Uncle Percy moved his hands across the thick panelling to a circular space on the left-hand side. ‘The keyhole…’

  Becky’s pulse raced as Joe’s hand slipped into hers. They were so close. At once, Uncle Percy marched to the campervan. He clambered in, keyed something on the panel, and wound down the window. ‘Now Becky, Joe, I won’t be a second. Literally…’

  Becky and Joe exchanged puzzled looks but before they had a chance to say anything – BOOM – Bertha had gone.

  ‘What’s he doing?’ Joe said, alarmed. ‘He can’t just leave us.’

  ‘Worry not, Joe.’ Will smiled. ‘He’ll be - ’

  The time machine reappeared in the same spot. Uncle Percy sat inside, a broad grin on his face. ‘I told you we weren’t going in alone.’ He flung open the driver’s door. ‘I’ve brought the cavalry.’

  Becky watched, her curiosity spiked. The campervan was swaying from side to side. Uncle Percy slid open the side door. Milly sprang out and gave a majestic roar. Beaming, Becky patted her head. Then she heard a high-pitched whine. Milly wasn’t the only Bowen Hall resident to have made the trip.

  ‘Sabian?’ Becky cried, lifting the cub to her chest.

  ‘I thought you might appreciate some company while we’re gone,’ Uncle Percy said.

  ‘You’ve been back to Bowen Hall?’ Becky asked.

  ‘I have, indeed,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘Maria wants to know if you fancy chicken and chips for dinner? Oh, and she’s making blueberry tart for pudding, which I assure you is a real treat.’

  Becky couldn’t believe it. The world of Bowen Hall, Maria, and blueberry tarts seemed such a distant memory.

  Uncle Percy entered more coordinates onto the time-pad. ‘The van is now set to return to Bowen Hall. When Will, Milly and I have entered the caves, I want you to wait one hour. No longer! If we haven’t returned I want you to press this button here …’ he pointed at a flashing amber button, ‘and return to the twenty first century.’

  Becky’s eyes moistened. ‘But -?’

  ‘No, buts,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘You must do as I say. Now, if we don’t return in an hour, it doesn’t necessarily mean that anything has happened to us. However, I do need you to return to the Hall. Then, I’d like you ask Jacob to take you to a pub in Addlebury called The Magpie Inn. I want you to explain everything to Reg Muckle, he’s the landlord. Now, Reg is a smashing chap and an ex-traveller, he’ll know exactly what to do. Do you understand?’

  Becky and Joe nodded.

  ‘Now, will you do that for me?’

  ‘Yes,’ Becky mumbled.

  ‘You promise?’

  ‘We promise,’ Becky said. Joe nodded.

  ‘Thank you,’ Uncle Percy said. But I don’t want either of you to worry. We’ll all be tucking into blueberry tart before you know it.’

  ‘I’m scared,’ Becky said, pulling Sabian closer.

  ‘There is nothing to be scared of,’ Uncle Percy replied.

  Sensing her upset, Milly curled her head against Becky’s leg.

  ‘See…’ Uncle Percy added. ‘Milly isn’t worried, and neither should you be. Are you ready, Will?’

  Will looped his bow over his shoulder. ‘I am.’

  Uncle Percy inserted Edgar’s dagger into his belt. Taking out the Theseus Disk, he approached the gate and slotted it into the hole. Then he took the Suman Stone, inserted it into the disk and waited. For a second nothing happened. Then the key exploded into life. Jets of emerald light spread from the Suman Stone and slithered like cracking glass. Within seconds, the light had fed every inch of the gate, turning the orange metal misty green. Becky felt her heart racing. Joe’s mouth fell open so much he resembled a fish.

  A loud, creaking sound fractured the silence. Slowly, the gate opened, to reveal a long tunnel behind. Thin beams of sunlight filtered in from cracks in the tunnel walls.

  Uncle Percy knelt before Becky and Joe. ‘I promise you that we will come out of this alive,’ he said, ‘and with a Golden Fleece. Now, I bet you didn’t expect to do that in your summer holidays, did you?’

  ‘We would’ve been happy with a day trip to Rhyl.’ It took all of Becky’s resolve not to grab him and not let go. Instead, she placed Sabian on the ground and watched sadly as he and Milly rubbed noses.

  Uncle Percy turned to Joe, who wore his bravest face. ‘Joe, I need you to take care of your sister and Sabian for me. Will you do that?’

  ‘Course, I will.’

  Kneeling, Will met Joe eye to eye. ‘Do not fear. I swear we shall return. There is still much about archery you have to learn, and I would not miss teaching it you for the world.’

  Joe forced a smile and whispered, ‘Just come back.’

  ‘Come, Milly,’ Uncle Percy said. Milly obediently padded to his side. ‘Now, remember. If we’re not back in an hour you must leave for Bowen Hall. Get to the Magpie Inn. Tell Reg Muckle everything.’

  Becky took hold of Joe’s hand. She clasped it tightly. ‘We will.’

  ‘We’ll be back in a jiffy.’ Flashing them a smile, Uncle Percy entered the gateway. Will followed; Milly at his side.

  ‘BE SAFE.’ Becky shouted, as she watched them disappear into the shadows.

  There was no reply.

  *

  Becky and Joe stood there, alone and helpless. Sabian tugged at Becky’s sandals. She picked him up again and pressed her cheek against his. A single thought fixed in her mind: What if she never saw Uncle Percy again? She couldn’t begin to explain how much he and Will meant to her. They were family now.

  ‘We should follow them,’ Joe said.

  ‘No,’ Becky said firmly. ‘We’ll do what we were told.’

  ‘But they might need our help. What if they -’ he hesitated, ‘- what if they don’t come back?’

  ‘They will,’ Becky said unconvincingly. ‘I know they will.’

  ‘But - ’

  ‘No, Joe, we just wait. That’s what we’ve been asked to do, and that is what we’re going to do.’

  Then a voice came out of nowhere. ‘Very wise, Rebecca ...’

  Becky and Joe spun round.

  Standing before them was a tall man with raven-black hair, a gaunt face and tapered blue eyes. Dressed formally in a suit and tie, it would be easy to mistake him for a bank manager or an accountant, except he was a pointing a gun at Becky’s head.

  ‘You really are an obedient little thing, aren’t you?’ he purred. ‘Besides, the last thing your darling uncle needs now is help from two silly children.’

  ‘Who are you?’ Becky said, although she knew the answer. She was staring at the traveller.

  ‘That is of no matter to you. Let’s just say I’m an old friend of dear old Uncle Percy’s.’

  ‘You’re no friend of his,’ Becky snapped. ‘You’re a murderer!’

  ‘Am I now?’ The traveller jeered. ‘How very naïve of you. And if I am, what of it? History is full of murderers.’ He laughed darkly. ‘What is a murderer anyway? Was Winston Churchill a murderer? Was George Washington? Of course, they were. They had men killed, many men. In fact, it s
eems to me, killing is an essential part of true greatness - killing with motivation and just cause. And my cause is certainly just. Show me the truly great man who wasn’t a murderer?’

  ‘My uncle,’ Becky replied.

  ‘He is an ignorant fool. Why, even as we speak he is doing my bidding. He’s just too stupid to recognise it.’

  ‘He’s not stupid,’ she cried, her blood boiling. ‘He’s the cleverest man alive.’

  The traveller smirked. ‘Clever? I really don’t think so.’

  ‘He is,’ Becky shouted, ‘He’s -’

  ‘He’s my puppet. Nothing more, nothing less.’

  ‘HE’S NOT!’ Joe roared.

  The traveller turned to Joe. ‘Ah, the other one has a tongue.’

  ‘Yes, I do. And when my uncle comes out of there he’ll kill you.’

  The traveller scoffed. ‘I doubt that. That would take true courage and he’s far too much of a coward.’

  ‘Then you should worry about Will, then. He’d kill you in a second.’

  ‘I have no doubt about that. But will he get the opportunity?’

  ‘He’ll make the opportunity,’ Joe said defiantly. ‘You just see. Your one little gun will be no match for him.’

  ‘That is the first vaguely intelligent thing you’ve said, child …’ Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a thin pen-like device. ‘But do you really think I’d travel all this way with just one little gun?’ He pressed the gadget’s tip.

  A tremendous swell of cold, artificial wind blew back Becky’s hair. Terrified, she watched as a spiral of red and silver electrical charge filled the air, followed by a succession of very loud booms.

  Suddenly four grey military trucks appeared. Inside, were row upon row of men, each wearing a dark suit, tanned leather overcoat and mirrored sunglasses. Each carried a machine gun. Becky scooped up Sabian and buried his head in her tunic.

  The men leapt from their benches and filed into line, pointing their rifles in the direction of the cave. One of them, a huge, blond-haired man, took charge of the others. Taking powerful strides, he approached the traveller.

  ‘Any problems, Kruger?’ the traveller said.

  Kruger. The name struck a chord with Becky. Otto Kruger.

  ‘No, sir,’ Kruger said. ‘The containment area is set up at the time and place you requested.’

  ‘Excellent.’ The traveller looked down at Joe. ‘You see, boy, I’m not alone at all.’ A cruel smile curved on his mouth. ‘And my Associates have plenty of guns...’

  And then Becky did something she would never have believed was in her. She stepped forward and slapped him hard across the face.

  Chapter 18

  Nephele’s Fleece

  Uncle Percy and Will heard nothing of the activity outside. They were deep into caves and moving fast. Milly jogged alongside as if taking an afternoon stroll.

  ‘Becky knows, does she not?’ Will said. ‘About her father.’

  ‘Yes,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘She’s a bright girl. I had to tell her.’

  A strange expression crossed Will’s face. ‘How much does she know?’

  ‘She knows he was a traveller, that’s all,’ Uncle Percy replied.

  ‘And Joe, what does he know?’

  ‘He doesn’t know a thing. Not yet, anyway. I thought it best we wait until he’s older. Becky agreed.’

  ‘He has much to discover,’ Will said mysteriously. ‘They both do...’

  They trekked further into the winding chasm, neither of them speaking. Then Milly stopped dead in her tracks. Will stared into the darkness ahead and raised his bow. Milly growled.

  A ferocious wind raged against the tunnel walls. Uncle Percy pulled out two squid bombs. Will took aim. The noise headed in their direction. But now they could hear it wasn’t wind.

  Shrieking.

  ‘Oh, no!’ Uncle Percy said. ‘TO THE FLOOR!’ Using all of his strength, he pulled Milly to the ground, and shielded her eyes. Will dropped beside him. A second later, a thick fog of winged creatures charged towards them, flapping, screeching, flailing.

  Bats. Thousands of bats. Uncle Percy took the deepest breath he could. The maelstrom hit. A few seconds later, the bats passed.

  Uncle Percy got to his feet and dusted Milly down. ‘Something spooked them.’ He looked at Will and smiled half-heartedly.

  Will didn’t smile back.

  Soon they were moving again. The further they walked, the dimmer it became until they were in almost complete darkness. Then, in the distance, they spied sunlight.

  They raced to it, emerging into a cavern the size of a football pitch; four enormous tunnels were set into its walls like gaping mouths. A single, thick beam of sunlight shone from a wide fissure above and a shallow stream snaked from one side of the cavern to the other. However, it was the gigantic tree in the cave’s centre which caught Uncle Percy’s eye. A shimmering golden object was hanging from one of its branches, casting a flickering reflection like a thousand fireflies on the far wall.

  The Golden Fleece.

  ‘It’s really here,’ Uncle Percy breathed, as though he wasn’t entirely convinced of its existence in the first place. He edged closer to it, moving as though in a daze, his feet struggling to find their natural rhythm.

  ‘Take it.’ Will’s eyes darted from tunnel to tunnel. ‘We must leave this place.’

  Uncle Percy leapt across the stream. Standing before the oak tree, he found himself mesmerized. Then slowly, delicately, he lifted the Fleece from its branch. Speechless, he clasped it to his chest. It felt weightless, extraordinary, with a texture unlike anything he’d touched before. Then a very odd thing happened. The Fleece seemed to fizzle with energy. His back stiffened as a power surge slammed his body. Visions crashed through his head - abstract, random visions. But he understood them. It was knowledge. Millions of years of knowledge. The knowledge of the ages. His brain screamed, but he couldn’t stop. He needed more. He could see everything, the past, the future. It was he, not the Fleece that had the power. He dropped it at once.

  ‘What’s the matter? Will asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Uncle Percy said, struggling to catch his breath. ‘I just know I shouldn’t touch it. No one should.’ He slipped off his cloak, dropped it over the Fleece and gathered the bundle in his arms. ‘We must go …’

  Then they heard something. A deep, stirring sound. Their eyes flicked to the tunnels. Nothing. They heard it again, louder this time. Where was it coming from? Uncle Percy and Will glanced at each other. Then their heads tilted down. They had their answer … Below.

  ‘Oh, crikey!’ Uncle Percy exclaimed.

  The ground exploded and huge chunks of limestone, soil and rock flew everywhere. Uncle Percy and Will covered their eyes from the blast, paralysed with shock. Slowly, a giant head rose from the ruptured earth. And then another head, then another.

  Uncle Percy gasped as a curved talon gripped the earth and pulled its gigantic body into the light. Eighteen fiery red eyes were glowering at Uncle Percy. The Hydra existed.

  Milly roared.

  ‘DROP THE FLEECE,’ Will shouted, raising his bow. Uncle Percy let the Fleece tumble to the floor. ‘Now, back away,’ Will aimed at the head closest to Uncle Percy.

  The largest of the nine heads, the central head, stared at the Fleece, before snapping back to Uncle Percy, its thin top lip curled. Then, with a tremendous howl, it lunged.

  ‘RUN!’ Will fired, striking the Hydra above its right eye.

  Uncle Percy sprinted towards a tunnel. Milly roared again and sprang. She leapt at the head closest to her and sunk her fangs into its neck. The Hydra screamed, its head twisted violently from side to side. Milly held on. The Hydra whipped its massive tail and struck the cat, dislodging her grip, sending her crashing against the cave wall. Milly landed heavily, unconscious.

  Will sent another flurry of arrows. The Hydra ignored them.

  Uncle Percy watched as another head lunged, its jaws wide open. Dodging it, he hurled himself u
pon the neck. As the head coiled upright, he was hoisted into the air, its jaws opened wide. He dropped a squid bomb into its mouth and leapt free. The head exploded into pieces.

  Uncle Percy looked triumphant. His expression turned to dismay as another head emerged from the bleeding stump. The Hydra had regenerated itself.

  Will was showering arrows into the creature; they barely penetrated its plated hide. The head on the far left attacked. As it pounced, he sprang over the head, somersaulting, and landing perfectly. Aiming above, he fired an arrow where the heart should be. Once again, the arrow fell ineffective. The Hydra repositioned for another attack.

  Uncle Percy reached to his belt, but it was too late. A head soared down at him. He dodged it. ‘AIM FOR THE EYES, WILL!’ he shouted. ‘BLIND IT!’

  Will sent two arrows into the eyes of the nearest head. The Hydra squealed. Will trained his sights on the remaining heads. He fired a volley of shots, each hit its target. Eye after eye was pierced, until six of the nine heads were blinded. He reached into his quiver again. Empty. He cast his bow aside and drew his sword. The Hydra faced him, rearing onto its hind legs.

  ‘HERE!’ Uncle Percy tried to distract it. He threw a grenade at the Hydra’s feet. BOOM! No damage. Uncle Percy pulled out another, when the tail whipped round and caught him off-guard. He crashed into the tree’s trunk and landed badly, blood poured from his arm. The Hydra refocused on Will. A head swooped down. In one powerful movement, Will severed it, only for it to be replaced almost immediately.

  Two more heads attacked; one head knocked the sword from his hands, the next hit him full in the stomach. He fell, winded. A claw pinned him down. Pain seared his body. Then, slowly, the central head opened its huge jaws.

  His vision blurred, Uncle Percy saw the Hydra ready its strike. No. Not Will! He clambered to his feet. Then it struck him - Edgar’s Dagger. He scooped it from his belt. Sprinting towards the Hydra, he leapt, landing on its back.

  For the briefest of moments, the Hydra was distracted. Uncle Percy ploughed the dagger through the Hydra’s skin into its heart. The Hydra squealed.

  Jumping to the ground, Uncle Percy watched as the beast twisted in agonising spasms. Then, with a mighty crash, it fell. One by one, each head fell still.

 

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