one another. They cut an odd pairing face to face. It was like a giraffe trying to stare down a rhinoceros. Slowly Billy extended his right hand, and after a while Ryan reluctantly met it in the middle. The shake was short but firm, and a great deal more than words could convey was passed between them in that moment of contact, and through their stares. Tristram looked from one to the other and appeared satisfied that they would not give him any more grief, for the time being at least.
All of a sudden, the air was split by the sound of a gunshot and there came a loud CLANG! as a bullet fizzed off the buggy’s bodywork. Daisy, who had wandered round to the far side of the vehicle when the argument had kicked off, squealed and dived underneath it. The others joined her. A moment later a second shot came whizzing past and buried itself in the tread of one of the huge wheels.
‘Never a dull moment here,’ commented Billy.
‘That’s dreams for you,’ said Tristram, propping himself up on his elbows and straining to see where the gunfire was coming from. A third shot rang out, and a small muzzle flash gave away a hamster with a rifle, crouching by one of the buildings next to the bridge.
‘Right, there’s at least one of those furry gits trying to have a pop at us, but I expect there are more,’ he said. ‘Now, as I told Ryan earlier, one of the most important things about field work is using what is at your disposal, rather than assuming that Dreamweaving is your best and only option.’
‘So?’ said Billy.
Tristram grinned at them with a devilish look in his eye.
‘He’s going to do something stupid,’ said Ryan, not wishing for a repeat of the trouser incident.
‘Maybe,’ Tristram shrugged. ‘Then again, maybe not. It depends on how sturdy this truck you built is.’
Ryan shrugged.
‘It’s a golf buggy. It would probably fall apart if you sneezed on it.’
‘Oh no,’ said Daisy. ‘Billy and I have been all over the countryside in it. It’s great!’
‘That’s a good enough recommendation for me,’ said Tristram. He shuffled backwards across the ground until he was shielded from the shooter by one of the huge wheels. Then he got to his feet and peered back down at the others. ‘Well? Are you coming then?’
They looked at one another and Ryan rolled his eyes.
‘Here we go again,’ he said. ‘Tristram needs another adrenaline fix.’
He reluctantly followed as the others climbed into the buggy after their tutor. Ryan found himself sitting next to Daisy in one of the rear-facing seats, as Billy had positioned himself up front with Tristram. They had just sat down when the gunfire started again in earnest, accompanied by the dazzling glare of a searchlight painting them as a clear target.
‘Hang on,’ shouted Tristram, throwing the buggy into reverse and turning it to face the incoming fire.
The vehicle was open-sided, so it was the only way of affording them any protection, though how long the flimsy plastic screen in front of them would hold up was anyone’s guess. When they were lined up, Tristram put the buggy into forward gear and floored the throttle. The machine let out a raging howl and lurched forward, sinking down so far on its rear suspension that Ryan and Daisy were perilously close to being thrown onto the enormous rear wheels.
Ryan felt her hand grab hold of his trouser leg as she instinctively tried to save herself. He also felt the few leg hairs he had started to grow in that region detach, but he gritted his teeth and was determined to be a man about it, especially with Billy around.
Up front, Sophie’s brother was shouting a stream of pointless orders at Tristram, who was wearing a manic look and appeared to be enjoying the whole experience far more than was strictly necessary.
‘Ryan, this thing’s brilliant!’ he whooped, as he sent it barrelling down the road towards the cluster of buildings.
Suddenly the sporadic gunfire exploded into a full-on hailstorm of bullets, as the rest of the hamsters guarding the bridge cottoned on to what was happening and joined in. The buggy was closing on the buildings fast, haring along a snowy causeway with banks leading down into the vale on either side. It looked like Tristram intended to drive straight through the blockade, but to their surprise – and slight horror – he suddenly turned off the road and down the right-hand bank, before throwing the buggy into a huge drift that kept the bullet-riddled screen between them and their aggressors. By the time it had straightened up they were travelling parallel to the river, heading for the causeway and the buildings perched on top of it.
‘Oh Christ, he’s going to jump it,’ said Ryan, hoping for a contradiction.
‘It sure looks that way,’ grinned Tristram.
‘Don’t put ideas into his head!’ shouted Billy, but Tristram was already hammering the buggy as fast as he could towards the embankment.
Daisy looked at Ryan wide-eyed and gripped hold of his leg again. The only thing worse than pulling the stunt they were about to do, was doing it while facing the wrong way. Ryan grabbed her hand and the small rail next to him and tried to give her a reassuring look.
‘Hang on tight in the back!’ yelled Tristram as the vehicle began to climb the slope. There was a brief moment when they were out of the hamsters’ line of sight and the gunfire abated. The buggy continued to angle further and further up, until Ryan and Daisy had to clench their buttocks to prevent themselves from slipping off the seat.
With a wail from the engine, the wheels left the ground and they burst over the edge of the causeway, crashing through the upper storey of the nearest building and scattering its occupants. There was a beautiful moment of near-weightlessness as the vehicle reached the zenith of its travel, and Ryan couldn’t help throwing Daisy a mad smile. The hamsters ceased firing their weapons and scurried for cover, as the buggy arced gracefully over the road and descended on a building on the far side. Its timber structure was no match for the thrashing wheels, which churned the roof to pieces as they smashed through it. A moment later there was the faintest of impacts, as they landed back on terra firma and tore away from the carnage they had wrought, whooping and shouting to one another.
When they were a safe distance away, Tristram slid the buggy to a halt and turned to face his passengers.
‘Everyone okay?’ he asked, breathing heavily from the rush of excitement. There was still a trace of the manic glint in his eyes, but he was addressing them as their tutor once more.
‘You are a certified nutcase,’ said Billy, whose face was even paler than usual. ‘Having said that, considering we made it through that in one piece, I’d have to say that it was a pretty cool ride.’
Tristram smiled.
‘It’s just as I was saying; sometimes you’ve just got to go with the flow rather than force the story through Dreamweaving. With practice, you’ll be able to pick out the opportunities as and when they arrive. How about you two at the back? Still there, I see.’
‘We’re fine, thank you,’ said Daisy, who was still holding Ryan’s hand and seemed unflustered by the whole experience.
‘That was awesome,’ grinned Ryan, who, despite his initial misgivings, now felt like he was part of an action movie and couldn’t wait for more.
‘Good, good, so who’s up for another round then?’
A bit of the bravado evaporated from the buggy as the three passengers looked at him uncertainly. Tristram pointed across the river to where a similar set of buildings were guarding the far side of the bridge.
‘What are you going to do? Drive across the water?’ asked Billy.
‘An interesting idea, but I think we’ll be using the bridge.’
The three teenagers looked at one another and shrugged.
‘If that last stunt worked…’ said Ryan.
‘Good lad,’ said Tristram, and he floored the throttle again, enveloping the buggy in a blizzard as the wheels churned through the snow.
He drove them in a wide arc, linking back up with the causeway some distance from the bridge, to allow them a good run-up at the checkpoint they had j
ust demolished. The engine howled its approval as the vehicle gathered speed, and again Ryan and Daisy braced themselves for another bumpy ride.
The first gunshots began ricocheting off the buggy’s windscreen, coming not from the hamsters on the near side of the bridge, but from the opposite bank. The flimsy plastic screen continued to hold up miraculously well, although the group remained hideously exposed on all other sides. Ryan suddenly had a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach, as it dawned on him that once they were on the bridge he and Daisy would be sitting ducks for the hamsters they had just terrorised.
He turned round to say something about it to Tristram, but was just in time to see them smash through the blockade and tear onto the bridge.
‘Dizz, get down!’ he shouted, pulling her down across his lap and trying to ignore the rather strange sensation that came over him as he did so.
Up front the gunfire was intensifying, and the screen was now so covered with pock-marks that it was almost impossible to see out of.
‘Go! Go! Go!’ shouted Billy, seemingly unable to do anything useful other than offer encouragement.
But Tristram already had the buggy flat-out, so there was little else that could be done other than cross their fingers and hope for the best. Fortunately for Ryan and Daisy, the hamsters on the near side of the river had been more interested in saving their own pelts, so they were spared from being used for target practice.
All of a sudden, a