‘There’s people up and about already,’ said Lewis. ‘We’d better get a move on.’
* * * * *
Home for the day was a Water Board pumping station. The little brick building was only four metres on a side and was surrounded by high chain-link fences. But there was no padlock on the gate and the door only took a little persuading before it gave under their combined weights. Inside, amongst the pipes, valves and dials, there was a small table and a plastic chair. It was dark and windowless. ‘This will do nicely,’ said Lewis, and they set about their breakfast.
‘I couldn’t half do with a shower,’ said Push.
‘Yes, you couldn’t half do with a shower,’ said Parker. He received a thwack on the back of his head from her beret.
No sooner had they eaten and unrolled their sleeping bags they were soundly and blissfully asleep. Until around seven a.m. when they were jolted awake by a thunderous sound. It felt as thought the earth itself was tearing apart. Parker jumped to the door in time to see four jet fighters streaming overhead at more or less treetop height.
‘I may be paranoid but I have feeling that has something to do with us.’
‘I think it’s a safe bet that it’s got something to do with our little protest,’ said Push. She yawned and pulled the flap of her sleeping bag back over her head. ‘Let’s just hope the Water Board don’t want to use their hut before we can get some sleep.’
* * * * *
Push only partly got her wish. They had woken in the early afternoon and were busy working out how to make what food they had left stretch for a few more days when the man from the Water Board turned up. As he was driving past he noticed the gate swinging loose and the door to the pumping station standing slightly ajar.
Parker heard the clink of the gate. ‘Rucksacks!’ he whispered and they swiftly bundled their meagre bits of fruit and sandwiches into their back packs. A large face appeared at the door and peered in cautiously. When he decided it was just three children he stepped boldly into the frame of the door.
‘What the hell do you think you are doing? This is private property. Get out of here right now. No,’ he changed his mind, ‘you stop where you are.’ He edged back towards the gate, blocking their escape.
The three emerged blinking into the afternoon sunshine.
‘Aren’t you lot supposed to be locked up in some camp somewhere? Are you part of those maniac children blocking the Southampton road?’ He reached for his hip pocket and pulled out a phone. ‘Put me through to despatch would you please, Janice?’ and added to the children, ‘There’s laws against trespass. You’re stopping here until the police arrive.’
‘We’ve got to stop him,’ whispered Lewis. ‘He can’t use that phone.
Push winked at Parker. ‘Jacket joke?’ she said.
‘No, it would never work.’
‘What have you got then?’ she asked.
‘I haven’t got anything.’
‘Jacket joke it is then.’
She smiled innocently at the man. ‘Excuse me, are you sure you put your handbrake on properly?’
‘What are you on about?’ he said, distracted from his phone call.
‘Well, it’s just that your van is rolling backwards.’
‘Shit,’ he cried and turned to the gate. Parker sprang, grabbed the back of the man’s collar and yanked it smartly down, trapping his arms. The man dropped his phone. Push crouched on all fours behind his legs and Lewis, quickly picking up the plot, did his bit. A quick shove and the man fell heavily onto his backside.
‘You little buggers,’ he wailed and struggled to rise.
Lewis whipped up the mobile. ‘We’ll be needing this. I will post it back to you when all this is over.’
They stepped calmly over the wiggling body and through the gate. ‘I think we’d better leg it,’ said Push and they started to trot down the lane. The man was on his feet and screaming abuse after them.
‘He’s bound to have a radio in that van,’ said Parker. ‘We’re screwed if he calls the police.’
They ran blindly up the lane while Push struggled to pull her GPS phone out of her rucksack. ‘Give me a second, we don’t know where we’re going.’
‘Sod that,’ said Parker. ‘Anywhere is better than here.’
They jumped a stile and ran full pelt across a field. They didn’t stop at a little footbridge that led into a wood. Nor when they surfaced into a cow pasture. They finally collapsed into a field of late barley, its browning ears concealing them from view.
‘Oh God, I don’t want to do this anymore,’ said Parker and started to chuckle. It took a moment for the other two to find any humour in their situation. In seconds they were all rolling on their backs, trying to suppress snorting laughter.
‘Where the hell are we?’ laughed Lewis.
‘That’s what I was trying to say. I don’t know where we are,’ said Push.
Parker’s map was useless. Wherever they were was south of the area it covered. Push pulled up the GPS and fiddled with it for five minutes. ‘I think we’re somewhere near this town.’ She pointed to the tiny screen.
‘We’ll just have to follow the sun. Southampton’s got to be somewhere in that direction. If that bloke phoned the police, and they put two and two together, we’re going to need a hiding place.’ The sound of a distant plane made them twitch.
Chapter Fifteen
Travelling without a planned route or recognisable paths proved trickier than they expected. They headed in the general direction of the sun. Where they hoped to find gates they often found dead-end fields and impenetrable hedgerows. Their clothes snagged on every barbed wire fence they had to negotiate.
Push voted for any kind of cover they could find; a ditch would do. Parker was in favour of getting a few more miles under their belts. Lewis settled it by suggesting that they pushed on until they could find something with a concrete roof to put between them and any searching helicopters.
It wasn’t long before they heard the dogs.
They tried to stick to the shadows at the edges of fields but crossing open country was inevitable from time to time. At the top of a gently sloping field of corn they stopped for a breather. Parker was squinting in the direction they’d come.
‘That’s a lot of dogs,’ he said.
‘Shit,’ said Lewis. On the ridge to the north they could see ten or eleven men wading through a cereal crop. Ahead of them, snaky lines of flattened wheat indicated the presence of hounds.
‘It’s a pack,’ said Parker. ‘A hunting pack, and we’re the fox.’
‘Now, we don’t know that for sure. We just have to keep calm,’ said Push.
A helicopter lurched over a line of horse chestnuts at the end of their field and slewed in their direction. They needed no further persuasion. ‘Run!’ said Lewis.
They dived straight into the nearest hedge, ignoring the nettles, and slid into a small stream. On the other side, a steep climb led to a virtually impassable barrier of hawthorn and brambles. Parker put his head down and used his back pack as a ram to force his way through. The others followed.
‘Make for those trees,’ said Lewis and they made a dash across a corner of a meadow. Sheep scattered in every direction. At the boundary of the wood, they stopped to listen. The sound of baying hounds was coming from all around them. The helicopter was just above the trees.
‘They must see us now,’ said Lewis. ‘We’ll be plain as daylight on their infra-red cameras.’
‘What do we do now?’
‘Push on. It’s all we can do,’ said Lewis. ‘They can’t land that chopper in a wood.’ He prayed that the trees would be more extensive than the coppices they were used to.
Five minutes later, the helicopter was still with them. They found themselves on the ridge of a forested hill, still heading south. The dogs were on the track now. They could hear them smashing through the undergrowth and baying as though they hadn’t been fed for several weeks. At last, the first dog bounded into sight i
n the distance, hammering down the path behind them. They could almost imagine that they could see the slaver of foam at the creature’s mouth.
‘Quick, dump the packs,’ said Lewis.
‘But we need them,’ said Parker, ‘What are we going to eat?’
‘We won’t need food if they catch us.’
Push grabbed her phone and they chucked the rucksacks into the thickest bushes they could find. They legged it down the track.
‘Do you suppose that will hold them up?’ panted Parker.
‘Not for long.’
They slithered down a bank and bounced through bracken and gorse until they found themselves in a narrow strip of orchard. They could hear the chopper but it sounded as though it was several fields away. Below them, a railway line twisted away to the south.
‘Let’s make for the line,’ said Parker. ‘Those overhead cables will keep the chopper off.’
‘They can’t be so desperate that they’d land on a railway line,’ said Push.
‘We are!’ said Lewis.
They moved swiftly, unencumbered by their heavy packs. In the bottom corner of the orchard they found a gate onto the tracks. A sign said something about a £1000 fine for trespass, which they ignored. It also said they should look both ways, which sounded like good advice. The track was empty in both directions.
‘That way,’ said Lewis. They jogged along the sleepers with their shadows bouncing along the rails behind them.
* * * * *
Devonish was a man to hold a grudge. In his previously life, he’d fought as a mercenary in several foreign wars. He’d worked for various governments as a “fixer”; a job which required illegality of every description. In recent years he had graduated to assassin and could command massive fees from shady criminals throughout the world. Jackman was just his latest client.
When the Spottiswood snatch had gone so spectacularly wrong he was furious. His reputation was based on never failing to complete an assignment and this, he resolved, was not going to be the exception.
Through his head mic he directed the pilot. ‘Directly over the track. As low as you can get. Keep 50m behind them.’ He flipped channels and spoke to the ground crew who were marshalling the dogs. ‘Where are you?’
A voice came back; ‘We’re on Bodeswell Ridge. We’re mustering the dogs and moving down to the road bridge at Harper’s Cross.’
‘Quick about it, if you please,’ snapped Devonish.
The only other man in the helicopter was similarly dressed in black and wearing a helmet with attached night goggles. ‘Are we going to take them out now, sir?’ he asked.
‘No we are not,’ said Devonish. ‘I’m going to deliver this package in person to the Prime Minister. I want them squealing but unbroken. Take us down just beyond the bridge, pilot,’ he commanded.
* * * * *
‘Two minutes, I just need two minutes,’ gasped Parker. ‘I can’t run any longer.’
He was leaning back against the parapet of a bridge. Below them was another railway track; a single line that curved under the main line and joined it half a mile to the south.
‘We can’t stay here,’ said Push.
Parker’s head lolled to one side. He took a giant gulp of air and staggered back into the centre of the track. ‘OK. Let’s go,’ he panted.
The sound of the dogs had popped up again but they couldn’t see any activity. Ahead of them, two dark figures appeared on the tracks as if from nowhere.
‘Oh my God,’ said Push. ‘It’s the snatchers.’
The two men walked slowly towards them, machine guns pointing at the ground.
‘Now what?’ said Parker.
At the same time, the barking grew louder and the first of the dogs crashed onto the line behind them. Now there were twenty or thirty, pelting in their direction. A man sounded a horn and the dogs halted while they were leashed in by their handlers. Then they came on again, straining and snarling.
‘Over the edge,’ said Lewis. The bridge they stood on had a signal gantry bolted onto its brickwork. It was made up of two vertical pylons that stood either side of the track, joined by a walkway that held all the signal mechanisms. The metal walkway spanned the length of the bridge, only three metres below the parapet. At one end, a ladder reached up from the track below.
Parker clambered onto the parapet and eased himself over. Unfriendly razor wire decked the gantry’s handrail but it was unprotected from above. Still with half a metre to go, he loosed his grip and dropped. The metalwork creaked and groaned under his weight. The others landed beside him.
Devonish sprinted up the track in time to see the three of them disappear over the bridge. Without waiting to see what awaited him, he vaulted the parapet. He landed with a crunch on the handrail of the gantry and bounced inwards onto the walkway, only a metre away from the astonished trio. His hand shot out and gripped Lewis’s tunic. ‘You’re nicked, kiddo,’ he snarled.
‘Go!’ said Lewis. The other two hesitated but obeyed. The second man was on the parapet now, eyeing the prey with relish. Parker and Push made for the ladder. ‘Stop where you are, or this kid gets it.’
They hesitated again but Lewis’s expression was clear. ‘Go!’ he implored.
They started again for the ladder. This time Devonish picked up Lewis bodily and, in one fluid motion, had him dangling by his collar over the railway track. ‘Stop or Spottiswood dies.’
Lewis kicked uselessly with his legs. The man’s huge upper body strength allowed him to hold the boy almost horizontally out from the gantry. There was a good twenty metres to the track below. ‘Get down here,’ he shouted to the man above him, and then to Parker and Push; ‘If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop where you are. All three of you have got an appointment with Colonel Jackman.’
Above them, feverish dogs were leaping at the parapet to try and get in on the chase. The peep-parp of a train was almost lost in the cacophony.
‘Push, you can’t stay,’ yelled Lewis. ‘You know what you’ve got to do.’
She knew he was right. She gulped and then nodded. ‘Let’s go, Parker,’ she sniffed.
‘OK. Have it your way,’ said Devonish and he held his burden further out.
The sound of rusty pieces of metal scraping together was followed by a click, then a clunk. The down-track signal fell into its lower position. Unfortunately for Devonish, that was precisely where his head was at the time. There was sickening thud and Devonish’s body went limp.
Lewis dropped. He made a lunge for the gantry. His fingers engaged with the lattice of the walkway and took his full weight. Devonish followed, his body doing a perfect pirouette before landing with a crunch between the rails. Lewis slammed into the metal work, grasping with his trailing right arm.
‘Lewis!’ screamed Push.
‘TRAIN!’ screamed Parker.
The double-carriage diesel was already slowing for the bend. Lewis whipped his legs up as the train slid underneath him. Its breaks squealed and its horn sounded continuously. It passed straight over the still body of Devonish. Parker and Push were back on the gantry and reaching for Lewis. He edged arm over arm until his legs found purchase on the rungs of the ladder. Four hands grabbed him and pulled him in.
There was no time for triumph or tears. The second assassin crashed onto the walkway and made a grab for them. They shot down the ladder and up the track, away from the now stationary train. Rather than pursue them, the soldier went to inspect the body of his boss.
A guard had clambered down from the back of the train and walked warily back towards them, expecting a grizzly scene. The soldier opened his weapon and let a few rounds whiz up the line, cracking on the gravel around the guard’s feet. He took the hint and hopped back towards the train. Evidently, witnesses were not welcome. By the time the soldier turned, the three targets had disappeared into the bushes. He didn’t follow.
Dogs are no good on ladders and the hunters had no alternative but to backtrack and find a gateway int
o the fields. Lewis, Push and Parker dodged in and out of bushes until they were round the bend. After half a mile or so, they left the track and ran up a small access path. As it climbed up the side of the valley, they were afforded a good view of the railway line. The dogs were back on the track and picking up the scent.
An arm shot out from the bushes. The hand on the end of the arm connected with Push’s shoulder and yanked her off the path.
‘Waaarrgghh,’ she shrieked.
Parker and Lewis stopped dead in their tracks and dived into the bushes after her. They found Push on her backside, edging away from a man. He was sat cross-legged and giggling.
‘What the devil do you think you’re doing?’ said Parker.
‘Sorry about that, had to get your attention somehow.’
Lewis took a moment to take in the scene. They were inside a hollow circle of gorse bushes. The man was wearing a faded green smock shirt under a tatty waistcoat. On his head he wore a fisherman’s hat, covered in badges, and beneath it poked long, chunky dreadlocks. His face ended in a bushy, straw-coloured beard. His toes peeped out of muddy sandals.
‘What do you want with us?’ said Parker.
‘Little soldier boys and girls, out to play,’ the man tittered. ‘Greybeard wants nothing; just to be left alone. But you bring heap big trouble behind you, don’t you?’ He jerked his head in the direction they had come from. He put his head back and roared with laughter which gradually mutated into a howl. They all stared at each other.
‘Psycho alert!’ said Parker out of the corner of his mouth.
‘He’s as fruity as a nut cake,’ whispered Push.
‘I ain’t mad, and I ain’t deaf,’ said the man.
He looked fierce for a micro-second, then started cackling again. ‘Greybeard is one with the forest, and the forest is one with Greybeard. I’m the guardian of these woods and they are the guardian of me.’
‘And his beard isn’t grey,’ whispered Push.
‘Yes, well, we’d love to stop and chat, Mr Greybeard,’ said Lewis, ‘but I’m afraid we really must be pushing on. Nice to meet you. Goodbye.’
The hand shot out again and caught Lewis’s belt as he was retreating through the gap in the bushes.
‘We have got to go,’ said Lewis, forcibly.
The man looked serious for a moment. ‘Go that way and they will catch you within five minutes,’ he said calmly. Then he started giggling again. ‘Greybeard will sort you out,’ he said cheerfully.